JADE STAR by Catherine Coulter

‘Thank you, Saint.’

But Joe said, ‘I was hoping I’d get sicker. Mom said you might tell me why you’re called Saint if I was sick enough.’

‘Maybe. No luck this time, Joe. What’s that delicious smell, Jane?’

‘Bouillabaisse,’ she said. ‘I heard you liked it.’

Saint, who was filled up to his craw with that particular dish, stifled a groan and forced an agreeable smile.

It was close to ten o’clock before Joe and his older brother, Tyler, were finally tucked into their beds upstairs. Saint leaned back in his comfortable chair, his half-closed eyes resting for a moment on Jane Branigan. She was a fine-looking woman, he thought, with her coal-black hair and chocolate-brown eyes. A bit on the plump side, perhaps, but he was a big man, with big hands. The unbidden thought of his big hands covering her ample breasts and hips made him smile and his loins tighten. A man with big appetites.

‘I know what you’re thinking, Saint Morris!’ Jane leaned down and kissed him lightly on the mouth. ‘You haven’t a subtle bone in your big body.’

‘Probably not,’ Saint said with a lecherous grin. He pulled her down on his lap and laced his fingers together behind her back. Her breasts pressed against his chest, and he felt himself harden in response. ‘You’re a fine woman-, Jane,’ he said, the words rumbling deep in his throat, and leaned her back against his arm to kiss her. She responded with endearing enthusiasm, as she usually did, and before long his fingers were caressing her bare breasts. ‘Nice,’ he murmured. ‘Very nice indeed.’

He felt her press her buttocks downward against him, and smiled even as he kissed her again, quite thoroughly.

They hadn’t enjoyed each other in nearly a week and Jane discovered that she wanted him as much as he did her. In their urgency, they didn’t consider going to Jane’s bedroom. He took her on the carpet in front of the fireplace, kneading her full hips as he plunged into her warm body.

23

‘Ah, Jane,’ he said some minutes later as he watched her face contort with her pleasure. ‘It pleases me so much when you do that.’ Then his huge body tautened as he surged into her.

Jane pulled an afghan over them, then snuggled against Saint’s chest. ‘It’s been too long,’ she said. ‘That was very nice.’

‘An understatement, woman,’ he growled, gently nipping her earlobe. ‘Now, Jane,’ he continued as he felt her hand glide down his chest, over his muscled belly. ‘I’m only a man, after all.’

‘Hmm,’ she said, caressing him in her hand. ‘Now, that, my dear, is the understatement.)

It was close to midnight before they were dressed again and sitting at Jane’s small kitchen table drinking tea.

He never spent the night with her because of her boys. Some nights, like tonight, when he was sated and sleepy, he thought fondly of holding her, her arms wrapped around his body.

‘How’s our little girl doing, Jane?’ he asked, dismissing the thought as he sipped the delicious tea.

‘Much better. She wants me to call her Mary, which I do, of course. She worships you, naturally.’

‘Excellent, but is her sewing good enough for you?’

‘Yes. She’s a bright girl and she wants nothing more than to please. She still likes to stay in the back of the shop, away from the customers, but I expect she’ll gain some confidence soon.’

‘It might take a while-, since most of your customers are men,’ Saint said. ‘You’ve got three women working for you now, right?’

‘Yes, and business is booming. Lord, I think our little shop has made at least two thousand shirts since we opened last year, not to mention more flannel trousers than I care to count!

Saint pictured the fifteen-year-old Mary

– her name in Chinese, he couldn’t begin to pronounce – as she had been two months ago when he had saved her from being sold as a prostitute in a filthy crib down on Washington Street. She had been beaten for her unwillingness, and Saint had examined her carefully while she was unconscious. Luckily, she was still a virgin, but he could imagine that her maidenhead was only a technicality. Poor girl. He sighed, leaning back in the chair. So many poor girls, so many victims.