Just not entirely moral. Unless Nathan really was a member of an organized-crime syndicate. A very unsuccessful one. “I don’t think that’s possible,” she hedged. “I think I was very wrong about him.”
Mike smiled and gently pulled her passkey from her hand. “How ’bout we leave the question of guilt to the professionals? You just fix his sink, and I’ll hang around noticing things.” His gaze abruptly sharpened. “Unless there’s something you’re not telling me.”
She shook her head. “Nothing, Mike, I just feel weird about this.”
“That’s why you’re a landlord, not a cop.” He grinned as he opened the door. “Hello? Housekeeping! Anybody home?”
She rolled her eyes. Mike sure liked catching bad guys. She followed him into the apartment, her eyes immediately absorbing the familiar surroundings. “Mr. Gao?” she called, half hoping, half dreading to see Nathan. “I’m here to fix the sink.”
Silence. Well, silence except for the neighbor in 4B. This time the sound coming through the wall was a basketball game and another loud argument over the phone.
Mike frowned, obviously listening hard. “How come we can’t hear that in the hallway?”
She shrugged. “Soundproofing. I must have missed the wall between the two apartments.”
“I guess so.” He gestured to the bookcases, cushions and perfectly made bed. “He always this neat?”
“Yeah, I think so.”
Mike wandered over to the bookcase, scanning the titles with a leer. “Look at this. Sexual Secrets of the White Tigress. Tantrism for Beginners. Yeah, our boy here is up to his mother’s tricks.”
“They’re just books,” she snapped. “And lots of people are Tantric. Sting, for one.”
“Because people always get their religious guidance from a rock star.” He pulled a book off the shelf and flipped through it. “Sex books right next to accounting texts. Business school for madams.”
Tracy dropped her toolbox with unnecessary force. “You don’t know that. Maybe he’s legit.”
“Sure, he is,” Mike said as he tilted a book to her. “And I’m sure Mother Teresa often preached orgasms to see God.” He snorted. “Like anyone would believe this crap!”
Tracy sidestepped the tears that threatened and moved straight to righteous indignation. “You’ve already made up your mind about him. Just because Tantrism is different doesn’t mean—”
“Is this his laptop?” Mike knelt down to where Nathan’s computer rested on the floor near where he’d been studying the night before. The screen was up but dark.
“I think so,” Tracy said.
Mike tapped a key and the screen powered up. It had been in sleep mode. “Well, look at that, it’s still on. There is a God.” He sat down on the floor right where Nathan had been last night.
Tracy turned to the sink, unable to watch. The sense that she was betraying Nathan made her physically ill. “I’ll just go fix the disposal,” she murmured.
Mike gave her a distracted wave. Meanwhile, the neighbor cursed loudly and vehemently before killing his television. Apparently, his team had just lost.
They were there for another hour. The disposal was in pieces before Mike leaned back with an enigmatic expression. “I gotta get back. We’ll talk more later.”
Tracy put down her wrench. “Wait a minute! Did you find anything?”
Mike wouldn’t answer. He just waved at her and disappeared out the door before she could press for more. She stared at her friend’s retreating back, refusing to bellow after him, and in that moment, Tracy came to her own decision. If she wanted to know more about Nathan, then she would have to find out her own way. They could talk like normal people. She could ask her own questions. She could…
She wiped off her hands on a rag then grabbed her car keys. Forget Mike. She had her own idea. But first she had to get home and grab a few things.
SHE WAS IN HIS APARTMENT when he came home. Somehow Nathan knew she would be. That was why he’d gone to the library after class, then loitered in the back of a Chinese restaurant, hoping to pick up an illegal busboy job. The answer was no, but he’d tried. Then he’d finally faced the inevitable and headed home long after she would normally have left for the day.
But she was there. Not in the downstairs hallway, but in his kitchen, putting away tools while the scent of some very American-looking casserole filled the tiny apartment. She looked up as he entered, her eyes lighting with delight even though her body posture seemed reserved.
“Welcome back!” she said. “I put in a new garbage disposal. Yours was toast.”
He nodded, but couldn’t speak. Her beauty hit him sideways like that—catching him unaware even when he expected it. It wasn’t that she was dressed to seduce. Far from it. She wore grubby jeans and a grimy T-shirt. Her face was flushed from her exertions and her hair was tied back in a ponytail that caught most but not all of her wavy tendrils. But the life flowing from her soul hit him straight in the solar plexus. She was alive and vibrant, and so damn beautiful she stole his breath.
“I made dinner. The disposal took longer than I expected. Do you mind if I use your bathroom? I just need to change clothes.”
He stared at her a moment, his sense of humor finally surfacing. “No problem. But I don’t remember any plans for tonight.”
“High-school gym. Girls’ volleyball, to be exact. Joey’s there to watch his girlfriend. I thought we’d eat, watch the match, then go out for ice cream afterward.”
He arched his eyebrows. “You did, did you?” How different she was now from last night when the pain from his rejection had rolled off her in waves. Today she was casual. Controlled. Suspiciously so. “Why?”
Tracy straightened to face him square-on, her shoulders stiff with tension. She wasn’t as calm as she pretended. “I had a revelation while I was fixing your sink.”
He blinked, his mind whirling. Was she already getting divine messages? Had she progressed that far as a tigress?
“We went too fast. I mean, I don’t regret it or anything, but we don’t know each other well enough yet to decide about anything. So I thought we’d just go out. We’d learn about each other’s families. We’d, you know, talk as friends. We can do that at a volleyball game.”
Yearning burned through his belly. “It won’t work,” he said to himself more than her. “You are a tigress. I cannot—”
“Yadda yadda,” she interrupted. “Give me this Stephen’s e-mail address. I’ll contact him on your laptop if you like.” She swallowed. “And there’s this other thing, too. I have some questions. I…I don’t want to keep noticing men. I mean, Hugh Jackman is one thing, but every healthy guy that walks by? No. So how do I stop it?”
“You train at the temple in Hong Kong,” he answered wearily. Then he turned away rather than show her how much he really did ache for her. “It has been a very long day.” A long day of regret. Of dreaming about what might have happened if her inner tigress had never woken. If they could have met and dated and talked as friends first. “I don’t really feel—”
“Just friends, Nathan. Are you telling me you don’t want a friend?” Her voice trembled slightly. “That you don’t want me as a friend?”
“Tigresses don’t have friends,” he answered automatically. And once again, the message was for himself, not her. She would learn the truth about that soon enough.
“Well, then, I guess I’m not a tigress.”
He looked at her. She held her head high, but the color had leeched from her face. He was hurting her, but he didn’t see how he could do this—be friends and then lose her. And yet, he couldn’t stand strong against her pain. The truth was he’d happily take whatever tiny piece of her he could have, but that way lay disaster. How could he be friends without wanting more? Without spending his nights wrapped in torment?
“Tracy…” he began, reaching for the only excuse he had. “Even volleyball games cost money. I don’t have —”
“Oh, God, you’re not going to go all annoying for five bucks? I’ll pay—”
“No!” He spun around, allowing pride and frustration to cover other more vulnerable feelings. “Allow me some self-respect. I have nothing to offer you. I can’t take you out on dates the way you deserve. I have no money. I can’t teach you—it’s forbidden. I can’t even pay you my rent next month! And that…” He gestured angrily at her casserole. “That will be the first real meal I’ve had since coming to this country.”
She paled. Her mouth worked, but no sound came out.
