Chapter Five

NÜWA’S COOL PALM cupping her chin was heaven. Julia leaned into her command. Power rolled off her, filling Julia with desire. She stilled, captured by Nüwa’s gaze. The sensation of being seen, truly seen and understood, undid her. She knotted her hands together at her waist to stop their trembling.

“You’re shaking. Like a little bird. What do you need?” Nüwa traced her thumb over Julia’s lower lip.

“A kiss, Ma’am.” Julia shivered as Nüwa’s penetrating gaze stripped her to her soul. Exposed, given the gift of being honest about her desires in a way few understood, Julia wallowed in Nüwa’s permission to be naked in her want. Need unfurled in her belly as she waited for Nüwa’s answer.

Nüwa peered down at her. “Close your eyes.”

Julia obediently shut her eyes. Nüwa shifted her hand to the back of her neck, curled her fingers tightly in Julia’s curls. The other hand gripped her chin. Firm fingers held her still. Julia gasped at the first brush of Nüwa’s lips over hers. Soft and warm, then hard, a firm kiss that melted Julia’s knees. Nüwa held her in place as she sipped from her lips.

Nüwa stopped. Julia kept her eyes closed, desperate for another kiss, fearful to ask for more.

“Your mouth is delightful,” Nüwa whispered against her ear. “Do you want more, my sweet?”

“Yes. Please.” Julia swallowed on a dry throat as her nipples tightened.

Nüwa stroked her fingers over Julia’s throat. “You pulse is so rapid. Do I scare you, little one?”

“Yes. It’s been so long.” Julia cringed at the needy tone of her voice. “I’m sorry, Ma’am.

“Shh. Be still.” Nüwa took over then, took Julia in her arms and kissed her throat, drew her lips along her jaw before she devoured Julia in a long slow kiss.

Julia swayed, moved her hands to Nüwa’s hips. A growl from Nüwa made her drop her hands back to her side. Another, sweeter kiss was her reward. Eyes still firmly shut, Julia relaxed into the comfort of Nüwa’s strong arms and firm kisses.

Nüwa broke the kiss. “Obedient. I like that. You may open your eyes.”

Julia blinked her eyes open. Nüwa’s dark stare swallowed her whole.

The rattle of the door between the garage and the kitchen opening and the slam as it closed sent them both jerking apart from each other. A flush stole over Julia’s face.

“Nüwa? Who’s here? Where are you?” The frenzied pitch of Lian’s voice matched the expression on her face as she skidded into the kitchen.

“Right here, Mother. Why are you shouting?”

Lian leveled a lethal glare at Julia. “What are you doing here?”

“I was…” Julia squared her shoulders and met Lian’s harsh gaze.

“I invited her for coffee.” Nüwa spoke over Julia, her cool tone a sharp contrast to her mother’s fury. Lian shifted her gaze to Nüwa’s face.

Gerald came into the kitchen, rattling his keys and whistling. “Julia! How nice to see you.”

The glaring match between Lian and Nüwa continued. Julia edged along the cabinets and toward the door. “Nice to see you, Gerald. I was just leaving. Thank you for the coffee, Nüwa.”

Nüwa shifted her gaze to Julia. “My pleasure.” A flicker of acknowledgment flowed between them and a subtle nod of her head to indicate Julia had her permission to leave made Julia catch her breath. She ducked her head and exited the kitchen.

The sounds of angry voices were muffled by the door between the house and the garage. Julia slipped her feet into her boots and tied the wet muddy laces. At the top of the step, she studied the garage door buttons beneath a keypad and found the one labeled for the bay her truck was parked in. She tapped the button. Nothing. She tried all of them. None of the doors opened. She chewed her lip as she slipped her boots back off. Squaring her shoulders, she stepped into the hall.

“Why? Are you trying to expose yourself? Destroy all the work I do to keep you safe? What is wrong with you?” Lian’s vicious tone echoed through the hall. “And you—encouraging her.”

“I wouldn’t have let her into the house if I didn’t trust her, Lian.” Gerald’s patient baritone rumbled down the hall.

“She’s not a risk, Mother. I’m not stupid.”

“I can’t believe you two. A common girl like her? How do you know she’s not going to sell what she knows to the press? Have you forgotten the standing offers from those idiots for information about you, Nüwa?”

“Excuse me,” Julia shouted down the hall. “This ‘common girl’ would like to get her truck out of your garage if someone could unlock it.” She turned on her heel and stalked back to her truck, pausing only long enough to jam her feet into her boots. Inside her truck, she clicked her seat belt into place.

The door to the garage opened. Lian stood at the top of the steps. She pressed a series of buttons on the keypad and slapped the top bar to raise the bay door. She made eye contact with Julia through the windshield as she rested her hand on her hips. Julia lifted her chin and returned her glare. Lian drummed her fingers over a bulge at her waistband. Julia swallowed her fear, no mistaking the concealed weapon at Lian’s side. She lifted her hand and waved once before she backed her truck out of the garage.

Rain dribbled out of the sky. Julia eased the truck down the long drive leading to her home at the far end of the property. She touched her lips, tender and swollen from Nüwa’s bruising kiss, wondering how she would ever recover from it.

 

NÜWA STARED AT the back of her father’s head as he bent over the sink filling the kettle. “What is Mother’s problem?”

“She loves you, Nüwa.” Gerald turned to her. He placed the kettle on the base. Both of his shaggy eyebrows lifted at once. He snatched a paper towel from the roll under the cabinet. “Here. Wipe your mouth. Unless you want to deal with more.”

“What?” Nüwa took the paper towel from her father.

“Your lipstick—is…” He circled his mouth with his finger.

Nüwa flushed. She rubbed the paper roughly over her mouth and avoided his gaze. Her father’s phone pinged at the same time Nüwa’s phone vibrated in her pocket.

“That’s me.” Her mother strode into the kitchen. “I sent you the new codes for the garage doors.”

Gerald groaned. “I just memorized the last ones. Why change them again?”

Lian leveled a cool glare at Nüwa. “In case someone compromised our security.”

Nüwa crumpled the red-stained paper in her fist. “If she had the codes, Mother, why would she have needed you to open the door?”

“Criminals are very good at appearing harmless.”

Rage roiled in Nüwa’s body and she jammed the paper towel into her pocket.

“It’s not your fault. Some people are entirely too trusting. Like you. And your father.” Lian lifted her chin. “Would you make yourself useful and bring in my packages, dear?”

Nüwa’s father spun on his heel, his steps crisp and the set of his shoulders all Nüwa needed to know about his mental state. Her father had a long fuse but even he had his limits.

After her father had left the kitchen, Lian stepped closer to Nüwa. “I had some of my people investigate Julia’s history. Do not invite her into this house again.” She rested her hand on Nüwa’s arm.

“What are you talking about, Mother?”

“She worked as an escort.” Her mother sniffed. “Not even an expensive one.”

“So? What has that to do with anything? She isn’t now. And what if she was?”

“If she was, she wouldn’t be on this property. If she’s willing to sell her body, why wouldn’t she sell information? I can’t even imagine how much she would get. And that’s just from legitimate sources.”

Nüwa yanked her arm away from her mother. “I don’t believe you. Not everyone’s a criminal, Mother.”

Lian clasped her hands together at the waist. “And you know for certain she’s trustworthy? Because you are such a wonderful judge of character?” She sniffed loudly. “You and your father. Trusting souls, no matter who gets hurt.”

Guilt twisted Nüwa’s rage as her mother’s steady gaze pierced her. “Why don’t you just say it? Go on. I know you think it. It’s my fault Jane’s dead. My fault my career’s over.” Nüwa stepped back and away from her mother. “My fault you feel compelled to watch over me like I’m a child.”

Her father came into the kitchen, two bulging shopping bags clutched in each hand. He shifted his gaze from Nüwa to Lian. “Stop yelling. I could hear you in the garage.” Gerald placed the bags on the kitchen island countertop.

“Don’t put them there.” Lian pointed to hall. “Take them to our bedroom.”

“Don’t you have to wash the clothes? Why take them there and then have to carry them back here?” Gerald’s voice rose in pitch.

“Lower your voice. Because I want to try them on again. And what do you care? Just take them to the bedroom.”

Nüwa turned away from her parents’ bickering and strode through the living room, down the long hall to the door to her apartment. She paused with her hand on the doorknob. The ordinary sounds of her parents arguing floated down the hall. She turned away from the narrow confines of her apartment and walked back to the great room. Through the sliding glass windows, rain pelted the patio. The raindrops bounced back up from the wide puddles on the gray stone.

She eyed the large blue and yellow striped golf umbrella her father kept near the door. The dark-green wall of firethorn surrounding the maze called to her. After her brother’s death, when she wanted to hide from all the sorrow and pain in the house, she would take her lunch and a book and settle on a bench in the center of the maze. Words and the gentle sound of the fountain would smooth away the rough edges of her life, a welcome break from the overwhelming grief over her brother’s death.

She opened the sliding glass door. A cool wet wind blew through the crack. Outside the rain fell in a steady drenching shower. No one would be out in this. She would be safe.

Nüwa chewed her lip. Lian’s shouted accusations, and her father’s bellowed denial, spurred her. After toeing off her shoes, she placed them next to the door. The nylon fabric of the golf umbrella rustled as she lifted it with trembling hands. Nüwa stepped through the door and pressed the tab to open the umbrella. The patio pavers were cold under her feet. Her father’s outside slides were next to the door. She slipped her feet into the rubber shoes. A little too large, but better than going barefoot. Nüwa scrunched her toes against the damp rubber. The steady patter of rain on the umbrella was soothing. Nüwa squared her shoulders and walked to the steps leading from the terrace. A plastic sheet covered the broken side of the wall. Yellow tape held down by five-gallon buckets fluttered in the wind where Julia had been working. Rain dripped from the edge of the umbrella.

A shiver rattled her as her feet landed on the bottom step. Her hand ached where she clutched the umbrella. Her mother’s accusations and revelations about Julia were not surprising. Nüwa had wondered about Julia’s nameless Mistress, thought she knew who it was, and her mother’s revelations had confirmed it.

Nüwa stepped off the stair and stopped. The maze lay two hundred feet from the house, at the base of the lawn. It hid a winding path to the lower half of their estate. On the other side of the maze lay the old garage and the apartment Julia rented. Nüwa wondered why the original builders had built such a wildly out of place maze. During her travels she had spent time walking mazes in different cities, mostly boxwood or yew. She had never come across a maze planted with firethorn. Pyracantha, firethorn, the wicked hedge of thorns was resplendent in its spring glory. Tiny white flowers stood out against its dark-green foliage.

Another step. The wet grass squeaked with her steps. Pressure settled under her ribs. She could do this. Across the open yard she strode. Less than one hundred feet now. Dense forests on either side of the lawn separated her family home from their nearest neighbor a solid five acres on either side. Once she was in the maze, she would be safe. Anyone who didn’t know its secrets would never find her. Another step. Longing. For the before. For the freedom of movement. Her home had become a cage, a gorgeously appointed cage, and she had slammed the door closed herself.

The hush of the rain-soaked yard filled her ears. Rage bubbled up again. Her mother’s taunt ground salt into her mental wounds. Her mother blamed her. Still. For Jane’s death. For the expense involved with Nüwa’s trial and the ongoing security, but most of all for the unwanted publicity. The horrible press surrounding the trial. Nüwa stormed across the yard, the poor fit and squelch of her father’s shoes adding to her agitation. Leave. She should move to her own home. Take back her independence. But where? Where besides here would she ever feel safe?

Lost in her thoughts, Nüwa found herself halfway between the house and the maze. Julia’s apartment lay on the other side of the maze. Nüwa shoved her hand in her pocket and rolled the edge of the paper towel with the smear of her lipstick on it. The taste of Julia’s mouth was still on her lips. More. She wanted more of the sweet woman. An escort. Nüwa paused on the crest of the hill as the yard swept down toward the maze. Less than twenty feet to the entrance. The glossy leaves dripped sheets of water. Puddles dotted the cobbled entryway. Nüwa clasped the umbrella with both hands as she glanced toward the house. Would her parents take a break from arguing long enough to notice she had gone? A constant situation since her brother’s death, most days Nüwa tuned it out. Today it made her skin feel too small. Nüwa turned back to face the maze. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders. She had made it. She could do this. She was Nüwa Zhou. Showtime.