Holidays are Hell

Joseph kissed her. He dragged Six off her feet and pressed his mouth hard against her mouth, dragging from her a groan of pleasure as he kissed the fear out of her body, replacing it with a liquid heat that made her writhe and twist against him. Her leg curled around his hip, her arms snaking around his shoulders, binding him tight, and when he backed off for just a moment, she traveled with him, kissing him again, dragging his bottom lip between her teeth. Joseph shuddered. One hand trailed up her waist, sliding beneath her blouse. Her breath caught as he touched her ribs, and then the swell of her breast. A fingernail grazed her nipple. She gasped.

Joseph set her down. She felt his hard heat press through his pants against her belly, which only made it more difficult to let go when he stepped back, breathing hard. "We should move," he said roughly. "It's not safe here."

Which should have been her line. Six swallowed a deep breath. She was losing her head. She had to be careful, or she just might lose more. She had been a survivor too long to toss it all away now.

She followed Joseph a short distance to a small gate covered in red banners. On either side were two pots full of water and tall bamboo. A peach blossom lantern hung from the iron knob. Joseph pulled a small key from his pocket and fit it into the gate. It swung open with a tiny rasp that was met with an answering creak from inside the house. They hardly had time to walk through the gate when the door beyond the small courtyard opened. An old woman poked out her head. She peered at them both, but it was Joseph she smiled at.

"Finally!" she said. "You're home. But what a surprise. I thought you would be going north for Spring Festival."

"Change of plans," Joseph said, pulling Six behind him. "Wenxia, this is Six. Six, my very good friend, Wenxia. She looks after this place for me when I'm away."

"Which is all the time," said the old woman. She moved back into the house with a pronounced hobble. Six looked down and had to take a moment to reconcile her vision. Wenxia's feet were terribly small, hardly the size of a fist.

"Your feet," she said without thinking. "They were bound?"

Wenxia paused, and glanced over her shoulder. "I came from a traditional family. They thought it would help me find a rich husband. And it did. But not much else."

"I'm sorry if we woke you," Joseph said.

Wenxia waved him away. "I was cooking. And a good thing, too! We will eat well today, my boy. Dumplings and candy!"

Joseph kissed the top of the old woman's head. "Six and I have been traveling all night. We need to rest."

"You know where your room is." Wenxia hesitated, her gaze flickering to Six. Joseph raised his brow, and a smile touched the old woman's mouth. She turned around, humming, and left the room.

Six watched her go, then looked at Joseph. "She is your family."

"There are many different kinds of family," he said, leading her up the rickety stairs. "But yes, she's mine and I'm hers, and it's all good. I met her a long time ago through my father. She really was rich, but everything was taken from her during the Cultural Revolution. A mob killed her husband right in front of her, strung him up from a tree. Then she and her son were sent north for re-education on one of the state farms."

"Where is her child now?"

"Dead. He cut his hand on something rusty. It happened early on. She's been alone for a long time."

Joseph pushed open a door at the end of the hall. He stood in the entrance, unmoving, looking at his hands. "You know, if you're not comfortable, there's another room."

Six hid her smile and pushed him gently aside. The room was small and dark, filled with richly carved antiques that gleamed and smelled of lemon oil. A large window looked down over the canal they had passed over. She could see more of it now. The sun was rising.

Joseph did not turn on any lights. He moved behind her, sliding his arms around her waist and tugging her close. He kissed the back of her neck.

"First, we make you well," he murmured. "Then, we see about everything else. Sound good?"

"Yes," she said, and allowed herself to be drawn to the bed. They sat together on the mattress. Joseph made her lie down, and then leaned over her body, his eyes dark, his mouth set in a hard line. Six did nothing but study his face. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to be in a position so vulnerable. To even be alone with a man for such an extended period of time, let alone rely on one, in any capacity outside her work.

It was not as uncomfortable as she thought it might be. Or maybe she had been around the wrong men. Either way, Joseph made her feel safe. And that was rare, indeed.

"This could be easy, or it could be difficult," he told her softly. "You've been infected, Six. A body can reject that poison, but sometimes it doesn't want to."

She struggled with her fear. "I cannot imagine that."

"It happens." Joseph trailed his finger down her cheek. "But not this time."

"You are very confident."