"That was a wonderfully generous thing you did back there," Meg commented as they sat in her car outside the temple.
"Wei's money. It was the least I could do." John responded, surveying his surroundings carefully, watching traffic on the street, people walking by the temple. "He destroyed so many lives."
"You should be keeping some of that for yourself. He destroyed your life too." Meg
stated gently.
"I've taken enough from Wei. I want nothing more. I have provided for my sister and my mother out of his money. I have taken nothing for myself." John replied, his eyes slowly finishing their sweep of their surroundings and shifting to meet Meg's gaze.
"But John. You deserve--" Meg began. He made a dismissive gesture, then reached into his breast pocket.
"Mr. Wei was destructive to your life and livelihood as well," John said carefully. "I want you to accept this, as you accepted the money I sent from China."
He held out a second bank book, this with her name on the cover. John smiled encouragingly.
Meg accepted the book, brows drawn, "I don't understand..."
"Open it," John urged quietly.
Meg accepted the proffered bankbook and flipped it open. Her eyes automatically fell to the balance line. Her jaw dropped and she was speechless for one of the few times in her life.
"John, I can't accept this!" Meg finally exclaimed, recovering from the initial shock. It was an obscenely large amount of money, more than she ever hoped to see in her lifetime.
"I want you provided for. I hope that you will choose to spend your life with me. But if you do not, or if anything should ever happen to me, I need to know that you are taken care
of."
Meg looked at John sharply. Little clues began to fall together. Icy fingers of fear clenched around her heart.
"What aren't you telling me?" Meg's voice was calm and steady, an incredible feat of self control since she felt anything but.
"Nothing, Meg. I have planned this for six months. You were right, all those months ago. I destroyed your life when I entered it. It has always been my intention to make up for that."
Meg continued to look at John, searching for signs of dissembling. His face was impassive, betraying nothing, in that aggravating way he had.
"Bullshit," Meg responded finally, remembering the accusation. "Professional hazard. It wasn't your fault you did the right thing and got punished for it."
"Still, you should have this." John replied.
The unease she felt would not go away. The idea grew and took root that he had been pursued from China. She'd been too distracted by events and the joy of having him back to notice. Had too readily accepted his assurances that all was well.
Meg knew he was only trying to protect her. She loved him for it. But she wasn't the one who needed it. She put her internal security system on red alert.
She would not challenge him, knowing only too well that he would continue to conceal from her that which he did not want her to know. But she knew the rules to that game as well.
"John Lee, no amount of money could ever replace you. I don't want this, I don't need this. I won't take this. I just need you. Alive and well. With me." Meg closed the bankbook and handed it back to John.
He pulled the deposit record from her hand, and slipped it back into his pocket, his eyes sad.
"Meg," he began, "Please let me do this for you. It is important to me to know that you are provided for."
Meg put her fingers to his lips, "Don't talk like that. I've got you here, safe, and you're going to stay that way, you hear me?"
He kissed her fingers, then reached up and removed them, pulling her close, kissing her deeply.
"So anything else to tend to?" Meg asked a few minutes later, guiding the car through mid afternoon traffic.
"No. Not today," John replied, his eyes fixed once again on the side mirror.
Meg was keeping her own surveillance on rear and side mirrors, her mind alert. While she had not been able to detect anyone following them, that did not mean that they weren't out there, just out of sight.
"I'd like to stop by my place for a few minutes," Meg announced quietly. "If I'm going to stay at your loft, I need some more clothes. And my laptop, I'm going through computer withdrawal. Are you up to a side trip?"
"Of course," John smiled at her, taking his eyes off the side mirror for a moment. Fatigue disappeared from his face, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Meg smiled in return. There were times when she could read that normally inscrutable mind of his. Just like a millions of women before her were able to read the minds of their men.
"We've really got to start pacing ourselves," she said dryly. "You're still recuperating!"
Their destination decided, John settled back in the car seat, pondering the last hour even as he resumed his surveillance.
The anger which had flared in Meg's eyes when he attempted to give her the bankbook gave him pause. She was still a mystery to him at times, possessing the ability to profoundly surprise and delight him.
He had expected many reactions but not the one he had received. He had expected resistance to the gift, but not an outright and seemingly final rejection of it. She had dismissed the issue of money, focussing solely
on the idea of something happening to him. He was warmed by her stated protectiveness, but also frustrated by it. He had seen a growing knowledge in her velvet brown eyes. He had hoped to keep her oblivious, to keep her from unnecessary worry.
John knew that he should have been more careful in his choice of words, his lack of subtlety had thwarted his intention. It had been a misstep to bring up the idea of anything happening to him. Meg had issues with
separation and loss, he knew. Her own parents gone forever when she was young. Her years in America's not always perfect social system.
His heart ached for the life she had led, not so very different, in its way from his own or his family's. Disenfranchised, never allowed to just be.
She could deny the money for as long as she wanted, it would be hers regardless. Eventually he would convince her to join him in the quest for a new and better life, encourage her to use some of the money he'd liberated on her behalf from Wei's enterprises to fund her heart's desire.
If he could neutralize the threat that he knew was out there casting its shadow on them all.
It was his intention that never again would Meg need to do the very thing that had brought them together. He was desperate that she should turn away from her risky life as a documents forger. Zedkov might be turning a blind eye for now, but circumstances changed, cops moved on or died. He wanted for her what he wanted for his family, a new life and new hope.
All of this would come in time. He would make sure of it. For now, it was enough that they had each other.
Meg shivered, although lying in John's arms she was not truly cold. He was dozing again, while she remained awake, alert. On guard.
Listening.
Alone in her apartment, they had taken advantage of its privacy, falling onto her
bed before completing even one of the errands she had come to perform. Their lovemaking had been bittersweet, Meg haunted by John's earlier words; fear for his life mingling with sensual pleasure.
John's tenderness in desire had been breathtaking, soul soothing. The demons had retreated, for a while at least, coming back to her only now.
She was angry with herself for letting her natural caution lapse, felt again the threat closing in on them, faceless and nameless. She'd been blinded to danger by love and her own enjoyment in the moment. That would not happen again.
Meg was not about to let anything happen to him. She was going to make it her life's mission to keep him safe and well. She would protect his life, and that of his family with her own if it came to that.
Her motives were not completely altruistic. She cherished the contentment she'd felt since his return. Felt treasured and love in a way she had never experienced. Included in a family full of genuine warmth for her for the first time in her life. She didn't want to lose any of it.
Yet even as she snuggled closer to John, her mind wandered down paths of self doubt.
Never having loved before, she wasn't sure of the rules, the protocol. Mostly she wasn't sure of herself. Her reaction to his wanting to provide her with more money than she'd ever imagined deeply puzzled her. The old Meg would have jumped at the opportunity to live a life of ease and comfort, no matter the strings attached. Sure, she'd have had a fight with herself, and her damned overdeveloped streak of independence and self reliance, but the money would have won out in the end. Never having had enough of it and the security it represented had made her supremely practical minded.
Love complicated the equation.
With John, all the old rules she'd lived her life by no longer applied. In his eyes she saw herself as he saw her, as someone worthy of love, respect and devotion. She wanted nothing more than to live up to that wonderful vision he held of her.
Further she knew she could trust him. John Lee would never hurt her, never break her heart intentionally as her father had broken her mother's heart and spirit.
Meg had never understood why her lovely, lively mother, who could have been anything she wished, joined her life with an abusive alcoholic who demeaned her every hope, dream and wish. Who crushed her soul. Who had in the end, caused the injuries that had killed her. Her mother had offered her no other explanation for why she stayed other than that she loved her husband. Even as she lay dying.
She knew nothing of love, a great deal about dysfunction. Her foster parents had provided no alternate reality. She'd spent the time in foster care before she made her escape to independence evading the lascivious and shutting out the disinterested. There were good foster parents out there, she knew. She had just never been lucky enough to land with any of them.
She had always considered herself damaged
goods. Lacking a major chunk of what it took to know love and return it. It came to her again that John deserved better than that.
Damaged goods. Meg shivered again.
John sensed her distress, even as he slept, his arms drawing her closer, pressing her body against his warm, solid form, offering her without waking, the comfort of his presence.
She accepted it, turning in his arms to bury her face against him, to lose herself in his warmth, his scent.
end of Chapter 12
"Wei's money. It was the least I could do." John responded, surveying his surroundings carefully, watching traffic on the street, people walking by the temple. "He destroyed so many lives."
"You should be keeping some of that for yourself. He destroyed your life too." Meg
stated gently.
"I've taken enough from Wei. I want nothing more. I have provided for my sister and my mother out of his money. I have taken nothing for myself." John replied, his eyes slowly finishing their sweep of their surroundings and shifting to meet Meg's gaze.
"But John. You deserve--" Meg began. He made a dismissive gesture, then reached into his breast pocket.
"Mr. Wei was destructive to your life and livelihood as well," John said carefully. "I want you to accept this, as you accepted the money I sent from China."
He held out a second bank book, this with her name on the cover. John smiled encouragingly.
Meg accepted the book, brows drawn, "I don't understand..."
"Open it," John urged quietly.
Meg accepted the proffered bankbook and flipped it open. Her eyes automatically fell to the balance line. Her jaw dropped and she was speechless for one of the few times in her life.
"John, I can't accept this!" Meg finally exclaimed, recovering from the initial shock. It was an obscenely large amount of money, more than she ever hoped to see in her lifetime.
"I want you provided for. I hope that you will choose to spend your life with me. But if you do not, or if anything should ever happen to me, I need to know that you are taken care
of."
Meg looked at John sharply. Little clues began to fall together. Icy fingers of fear clenched around her heart.
"What aren't you telling me?" Meg's voice was calm and steady, an incredible feat of self control since she felt anything but.
"Nothing, Meg. I have planned this for six months. You were right, all those months ago. I destroyed your life when I entered it. It has always been my intention to make up for that."
Meg continued to look at John, searching for signs of dissembling. His face was impassive, betraying nothing, in that aggravating way he had.
"Bullshit," Meg responded finally, remembering the accusation. "Professional hazard. It wasn't your fault you did the right thing and got punished for it."
"Still, you should have this." John replied.
The unease she felt would not go away. The idea grew and took root that he had been pursued from China. She'd been too distracted by events and the joy of having him back to notice. Had too readily accepted his assurances that all was well.
Meg knew he was only trying to protect her. She loved him for it. But she wasn't the one who needed it. She put her internal security system on red alert.
She would not challenge him, knowing only too well that he would continue to conceal from her that which he did not want her to know. But she knew the rules to that game as well.
"John Lee, no amount of money could ever replace you. I don't want this, I don't need this. I won't take this. I just need you. Alive and well. With me." Meg closed the bankbook and handed it back to John.
He pulled the deposit record from her hand, and slipped it back into his pocket, his eyes sad.
"Meg," he began, "Please let me do this for you. It is important to me to know that you are provided for."
Meg put her fingers to his lips, "Don't talk like that. I've got you here, safe, and you're going to stay that way, you hear me?"
He kissed her fingers, then reached up and removed them, pulling her close, kissing her deeply.
"So anything else to tend to?" Meg asked a few minutes later, guiding the car through mid afternoon traffic.
"No. Not today," John replied, his eyes fixed once again on the side mirror.
Meg was keeping her own surveillance on rear and side mirrors, her mind alert. While she had not been able to detect anyone following them, that did not mean that they weren't out there, just out of sight.
"I'd like to stop by my place for a few minutes," Meg announced quietly. "If I'm going to stay at your loft, I need some more clothes. And my laptop, I'm going through computer withdrawal. Are you up to a side trip?"
"Of course," John smiled at her, taking his eyes off the side mirror for a moment. Fatigue disappeared from his face, there was a mischievous glint in his eyes.
Meg smiled in return. There were times when she could read that normally inscrutable mind of his. Just like a millions of women before her were able to read the minds of their men.
"We've really got to start pacing ourselves," she said dryly. "You're still recuperating!"
Their destination decided, John settled back in the car seat, pondering the last hour even as he resumed his surveillance.
The anger which had flared in Meg's eyes when he attempted to give her the bankbook gave him pause. She was still a mystery to him at times, possessing the ability to profoundly surprise and delight him.
He had expected many reactions but not the one he had received. He had expected resistance to the gift, but not an outright and seemingly final rejection of it. She had dismissed the issue of money, focussing solely
on the idea of something happening to him. He was warmed by her stated protectiveness, but also frustrated by it. He had seen a growing knowledge in her velvet brown eyes. He had hoped to keep her oblivious, to keep her from unnecessary worry.
John knew that he should have been more careful in his choice of words, his lack of subtlety had thwarted his intention. It had been a misstep to bring up the idea of anything happening to him. Meg had issues with
separation and loss, he knew. Her own parents gone forever when she was young. Her years in America's not always perfect social system.
His heart ached for the life she had led, not so very different, in its way from his own or his family's. Disenfranchised, never allowed to just be.
She could deny the money for as long as she wanted, it would be hers regardless. Eventually he would convince her to join him in the quest for a new and better life, encourage her to use some of the money he'd liberated on her behalf from Wei's enterprises to fund her heart's desire.
If he could neutralize the threat that he knew was out there casting its shadow on them all.
It was his intention that never again would Meg need to do the very thing that had brought them together. He was desperate that she should turn away from her risky life as a documents forger. Zedkov might be turning a blind eye for now, but circumstances changed, cops moved on or died. He wanted for her what he wanted for his family, a new life and new hope.
All of this would come in time. He would make sure of it. For now, it was enough that they had each other.
Meg shivered, although lying in John's arms she was not truly cold. He was dozing again, while she remained awake, alert. On guard.
Listening.
Alone in her apartment, they had taken advantage of its privacy, falling onto her
bed before completing even one of the errands she had come to perform. Their lovemaking had been bittersweet, Meg haunted by John's earlier words; fear for his life mingling with sensual pleasure.
John's tenderness in desire had been breathtaking, soul soothing. The demons had retreated, for a while at least, coming back to her only now.
She was angry with herself for letting her natural caution lapse, felt again the threat closing in on them, faceless and nameless. She'd been blinded to danger by love and her own enjoyment in the moment. That would not happen again.
Meg was not about to let anything happen to him. She was going to make it her life's mission to keep him safe and well. She would protect his life, and that of his family with her own if it came to that.
Her motives were not completely altruistic. She cherished the contentment she'd felt since his return. Felt treasured and love in a way she had never experienced. Included in a family full of genuine warmth for her for the first time in her life. She didn't want to lose any of it.
Yet even as she snuggled closer to John, her mind wandered down paths of self doubt.
Never having loved before, she wasn't sure of the rules, the protocol. Mostly she wasn't sure of herself. Her reaction to his wanting to provide her with more money than she'd ever imagined deeply puzzled her. The old Meg would have jumped at the opportunity to live a life of ease and comfort, no matter the strings attached. Sure, she'd have had a fight with herself, and her damned overdeveloped streak of independence and self reliance, but the money would have won out in the end. Never having had enough of it and the security it represented had made her supremely practical minded.
Love complicated the equation.
With John, all the old rules she'd lived her life by no longer applied. In his eyes she saw herself as he saw her, as someone worthy of love, respect and devotion. She wanted nothing more than to live up to that wonderful vision he held of her.
Further she knew she could trust him. John Lee would never hurt her, never break her heart intentionally as her father had broken her mother's heart and spirit.
Meg had never understood why her lovely, lively mother, who could have been anything she wished, joined her life with an abusive alcoholic who demeaned her every hope, dream and wish. Who crushed her soul. Who had in the end, caused the injuries that had killed her. Her mother had offered her no other explanation for why she stayed other than that she loved her husband. Even as she lay dying.
She knew nothing of love, a great deal about dysfunction. Her foster parents had provided no alternate reality. She'd spent the time in foster care before she made her escape to independence evading the lascivious and shutting out the disinterested. There were good foster parents out there, she knew. She had just never been lucky enough to land with any of them.
She had always considered herself damaged
goods. Lacking a major chunk of what it took to know love and return it. It came to her again that John deserved better than that.
Damaged goods. Meg shivered again.
John sensed her distress, even as he slept, his arms drawing her closer, pressing her body against his warm, solid form, offering her without waking, the comfort of his presence.
She accepted it, turning in his arms to bury her face against him, to lose herself in his warmth, his scent.
end of Chapter 12