Bride of the Moso Prince Page 2

  “What kind of illness did she get?”

  “Some dizziness. Doctor Yang said it wasn’t a big deal.”

  “Dizziness? That’s it?”

  “Yes. I feel bad that it worried her sister like that.”

  “Well, it’ll be a vacation for her.” He stood up. It’s time. He didn’t want to be late and keep her waiting.

  “By the way, I let Jinmei have a few days off since she hasn’t gone home for a while and there is no tourist around anyway.”

  “Can you do without her?” Nobul paused at the door.

  “Of course I can. I’ve been taking care of the house all my life. I wouldn’t need any helper if it weren’t for the tourists!”

  “All right.” Nobul smiled, “Do whatever you wish.”

  “But Namu insisted to come over to help me make dinner.” Sadama said with a sly smile.

  Nobul avoided his mother’s eyes. “That’s nice of her.”

  But Sadama wouldn’t let him get off so easily. “That’s nice of her…is it all you can say? Son, she’s refused a dozen suitors since you returned a year ago.”

  “Mother, it won’t work. Namu is like a sister to me.” He met his mother’s eyes firmly.

  “Why? Because you grew up together? Come on, son. That can’t be a reason. All kids in the village grow up together.”

  She was right. Nobul sighed. But he couldn’t tell her that a walking marriage wasn’t for him.

  “It’s your decision, son.” Sadama sighed, “but you’re already thirty-five. Don’t you wish to have a woman to go to at the end of the day?”

  “Sometimes,” he said, turning towards the door, “not always.”

  Truth was that he wanted more than that. When he was on the road he thought with a bit of annoyance. But how was he going to explain to his mother without disappointing her? He brushed that thought aside and instead thought about what to say to Snow when he saw her.

  “Hi, I’m Nobul, I came to pick you up.”

  “Good afternoon, are you Miss Sharon Liao? I’m Nobul. It’s nice to meet you.”

  “Miss Yu! Welcome to Women’s Kingdom. How was your trip?”

  Unsatisfied with any of these, he stopped the attempt. What would he do when she was here? He would show her around of course. He would take her to the island. He would give her a tour around the lake. He would show her the Goddess Cave… What else? Was that it? She was coming from California, must have seen plenty of water and islands. She would probably be bored. He should take her to Lijiang to see the ancient town, if she cared for a bit of local culture and architecture. Would she be picky about the living condition? Summer seems to be happy about it, but her sister? He gripped the handlebars tightly, then relaxed. She would enjoy it. Shangri-la was a highly rated hotel by domestic and international tourists. Besides, he would make it enjoyable for her.

  And then the market square came into sight.

  ***************

  Vans driven by locals were circling in the square and picking up passengers from the bus. One of the drivers offered to take Sharon to her destination, Algae Village.

  “No thanks. Someone will pick me up shortly.”

  “It’s going to rain in a minute.” He said.

  Sharon shook her head, “No thanks.” She would rather get soaked than be sold for a mountain bride. She had read from online news just recently that in some mountain areas in China there were men too poor or too ugly to afford bride-prices who would buy kidnapped women for that purpose. Better be cautious.

  Finding nothing interesting to look at, Sharon fixed her attention at a group of women squatting on roadside sucking pipes peacefully, unconcerned with anything that passed by them. For a second Sharon wondered how it would be like to live like this, smoking her days away in a mountain village. No deadlines to meet.

  When she heard the faint rumbling of an engine she looked up to the road. It was just a motorcycle. No, it wasn’t just a motorcycle. It was a motorcycle ridden by a cowboy! Her heart leapt to her throat. Chinese cowboy? That was something unexpected. When the motorcycle got closer she decided that the hat wasn’t really a Stetson, but merely a broad brim hat. Yet the person who wore the hat had a cowboy’s broad shoulders, lean body, long legs, and bronze skin. If only he were wearing a leather jacket instead of a windbreaker, and jeans instead of trousers, and of course, riding a horse instead of a shining Harley. Then he could pass for a real cowboy… Then what? It was none of her business. She tore her gaze away from that sight, and back to the smoking women.

  Nobul slowed down as he reached the market square. His gaze fell on a slender body against a lamppost on roadside, with two suitcases at her feet, observing women smoking as if nothing else in town was worth looking at. It had to be her. Her hair gathered gracefully into a bun, but with a strand fallen carelessly on each side. She was wearing a black scoop neck long-sleeve t-shirt, revealing her graceful, swanlike neck. Her slim-fit denims tugged over her shirt, accentuating her long legs and her slender waist. Nobul caught his breath in the sight of her. He had seen Han women with striking figures, fancy hairdos, and conspicuous clothes. But this woman in plain clothes dazzled him with her simply grace even on a gloomy day like this. There was nothing like the warm, sisterly look that he was prepared for, but there were coolness and confidence, things that he hadn’t thought would make a woman appealing.

  Searching in vain for the line he had decided earlier, he stopped next to her.

  Chapter 2

  The rumbling got beside Sharon and as she turned she found herself face to face with the most gorgeous face she had ever seen. Straight nose, well-chiseled lips, squared jaw, narrow eyes… in short, a handsome cowboy’s face! The bike was inching towards her slowly while the rider stared at her intensely as if assessing a statue. Sharon shuddered under those eyes as dark and as brilliant as black agate beads until the heat from the engine rose to her face and made her lips dry.

  “Get on!” The rider commanded as he got off the vehicle. He was a head taller than she was.

  “Pardon me?” Sharon was so startled that she could utter nothing else.

  “Hurry up! Rain’s coming!” It was a deep masculine voice. The sound of it struck a chord in her body and the resonance made her tremble again. As if being hypnotized, she was about to succumb to command and get on his bike…until she saw his hand reaching eagerly for her luggage. She came to her senses: she had seen good-looking, charming thieves in movies and on TV.

  “It doesn’t mean I’ll get on your bike!” She looked away from him, afraid her eyes would betray her.

  He was taken aback for a moment but smiled at once. “I don’t see you have any other choice.” He took hold of her suitcase and lifted it onto the back seat.

  “Wait!” She held on to her suitcase desperately. The smile was irresistibly charming and it alarmed her. She shouted, “If you’re trying to rob me, you’re making a big mistake. My help is on his way.”

  It was an effective attempt and the man put down her luggage.

  Then he straightened his long and masculine torso and looked down at her under the broad-brim hat. His lips curved up beautifully but contemptuously.

  “Unfortunately I am your help, Miss Snow!”

  Miss Snow? Sharon frowned briefly and then dared a mocking smile at him, “Nice try. But no, I’m not Miss Snow, neither am I Miss Rain.”

  Was she really the warm-hearted big sister that he had come to pick up? Nobul squinted at the almond shaped brown eyes under the thin, arched eyebrows. So crystal clear. If they were warmer and softer, it would feel really good to be stared by them. But no, they were icy cold at the moment, and they made him shiver. After silently observing her for a moment, he detected the vulnerability distrust in those cold eyes. He smiled: of course, she was waiting for Urcher's truck!

  Another devastatingly charming smile that would put a prudent woman off her guard, Sharon inhaled deeply to battle her agitation. What did this handsome stranger want from her? Her luggage or her? Co
uld he be a bride-kidnapper? But this man in front of her was far from being either poor or ugly. And she bet he could have a dozen brides if he wanted to. Sudden she remembered that Snow was the Chinese translation for Sharon. Could he be Urcher? But he wasn’t driving a truck. Besides, Urcher was supposed to be amicable. And this guy was certainly not.

  As she was thinking the man pulled out his cell phone. “Hello, Summer? Has my mother spoken to you? Good. Listen, your sister doesn’t want to go with me.”

  He handed the phone to Sharon and Sharon took it with a moment’s hesitation. Who was Summer?

  Charlene’s voice was on the phone, “Sharon?”

  “Yes, Charlene?” Sharon spoke in English, “How are you feeling, sis?”

  “I’m fine, Sharon. What about you? Are you tired?”

  “No I’m not. But listen, Charlene, who is this arrogant mule? Don’t tell me this is Urcher?”

  “Hush, Sis,” Charlene pleaded on the other end, “he understands English. He is Nobul, Urcher’s brother.”

  “Darn,” Sharon blushed as she was aware of the piercing gaze of the man on her side. She walked a few steps away, “He heard it. Now I have one more reason not to go with him.”

  “But Urcher took the truck to transport lumber. It was a sudden change of plan on the seller’s side. I’ve just found out from his mother. He wouldn’t be back until late tonight.”

  “Are there hotels in town that where I could stay a night?” Sharon mumbled, knowing how ridiculous it sounded.

  “But I’m dying to see you, Sharon. Don’t worry. Nobul is not as formidable as he appears.”

  Sharon thrust the phone back to Nobul’s hand. She wanted to apologize for the misunderstanding but decided not to. After all, it wasn’t all her fault. He hadn’t introduced himself properly.

  Without further questions, Nobul lifted the suitcases to the back seat. “Seems like you plan to live here for awhile,” he said while fastening her luggage on the seat with an elastic rope.

  “Not at all,” Sharon answered, “Most of the things are for my sister.”

  “Oh? Let me guess. Corn flakes, raisins, and honey cashews.”

  “Good guess.” Sharon smiled embarrassedly. She had sent these items to Charlene over the months, but this time, she hadn’t had time to visit the grocery store. They were books that Charlene had asked her to send her over a month ago.

  “More books?” He looked amused. “Half of her room is filled with books.”

  Sharon knew he wasn’t exaggerating. Back home, Charlene had filled their garage with books.

  “By the way, my name is Sharon, not Snow.”

  “I know. But I prefer Snow. It sounds better, don’t you think?”

  What? Sharon was stunned by that haughty comment. “What do you mean you prefer? It’s my name!”

  Nobul grinned, “But I do the calling.”

  “How would you like it if I called you Devil?”

  He laughed unexpectedly. “Devil? I like it. Much better than my other nickname.”

  “Which is?”

  “Prince.”

  “Prince?” Sharon looked at him up and down, “Devil suits you better for sure.”

  The suitcases took most of the back seat and left little room for Sharon. While she was wondering how she would sit a woman ran to them from a shop, asking whether Nobul would take a little something to her relatives in the village.

  Nobul agreed without hesitation.

  Moments later he returned. The little something turned out to be a big box of beer. Nobul placed it alongside the suitcases. Sharon frowned at the tiny square of space left for her while Nobul got on the driver’s seat.

  “What’re you waiting for?”

  “There’s no room.”

  He turned to look at the seat and measured her up and down. “There is room for one more person your size.”

  Enraged by the way she made fun of her she squeezed in the tiny space between his broad back and the tough wall of suitcases.

  Soon they were out of town and into the mountains again. Sharon grasped the seat under her tightly to keep herself from bumping into the driver. But no matter how hard she pushed herself back, she couldn’t avoid touching his shoulder with her chin and detecting his scent that had the flavor of smoky pine. The bumpy road and the slippery seat made it impossible for her to keep a space between them. The tips of her breasts brushed against his back frequently and her inner thighs were pressing tightly against his. She hadn’t had such intimacy with any male for a long time. In the midst of roaring engine she could hear her heart pounding wildly.

  The road got narrower as they went in deeper into the mountains. Sometimes half of the road surface was flooded with rain, other times rocks from landslides presented themselves as obstacles. It was a nuisance of rainy season. Nobul slowed down at these places, as he didn’t want to wet his passenger with rain water on the road. She was doing her best to keep a distance between them, but still he felt the warmth of her body behind him, and was aware of her nipples brushing against him. Only as the road became more and more treacherous, he forgot about her and focused on the driving. At a hairpin turn he had to push the bike to the edge to avoid some stones sitting on the road. There he heard her gasp and felt her arm slipping across his waist. He stiffened and almost faltered.

  They were actually on a cliff and Sharon caught a glimpse of the river down below. The current was quick. She grabbed the man tightly while gazing wide-eyed at the formidable mountains and the devious river. There was a bridge swaying on top of the river. It looked like it was made of thin wires and would be blown away by the wind in any minute. They wouldn’t be passing that bridge, would they? Oh no, to her absolute horror, they were. Without warning the bike turned onto the planks held by the wires. Sharon closed her eyes tightly and prepared for disaster. This was some scene out of an adventure movie. She hadn’t expected anything like this when she was packing. Poor Charlene, how had she survived the cultural shock? She heard the roaring of water below, felt the rocking and swaying of the bridge, but it didn’t disturb her. For the driver whose waist she was holding onto was absolutely calm and confident. Curiously she opened her eyes to a narrow slit, and immediately saw frantic currents below that threatened to swallow her alive. The bridge was wide enough for two cars to pass side by side, but the bike steadily ran a straight line in spite of the uneven surface and the swaying motion of the bridge. She couldn’t help but admire the driver for his skills. Those rancorous motorcycle riders in LA might be able to show off with a dash on a well paved highway, but they wouldn’t last on a bridge like this! The realization cheered her and she looked back at the bridge with a triumphant smile as they reached the road on the other side of the river.

  Raindrops splattered onto her face when she had gotten a glimpse of the tiny green squares of fields and the blue mirror of the lake beyond the valley.

  Nobul stopped on the side of the road, took off his jacket and swung it over Sharon's head.

  “I don’t need it!” She protested.

  But he got back to his seat without listening.

  In no time he himself was soaked. Rainwater dripping from the ends of his raven hair trickled down to his neck and his back. His shirt was reduced to a transparent film pasted on his skin, revealing the beautiful curves of his shoulders and his arms. Leaning closer to that drenched body Sharon held up the jacket so it covered parts of him too. The action brought her cheek against his nape and she drank the warm and masculine musk.

  It didn’t take long before the vehicle stopped.

  “Are we there?” She asked when she peered out of the jacket.

  They were on the foot of a mountain.

  “No, we’ll take shelter.”

  “Take shelter?” It didn’t take her long to understand what he meant. There was a cave a few steps away. The idea of staying in a dark cave alone with a stranger, an attractive stranger, made her uncomfortable.

  “We don’t need a shelter.” She clung to her s
eat, “we should just keep going. After all, you’re already soaked.”

  “But you aren’t.”

  “I don’t mind if…”

  He lifted her off the seat and swept her in his arms.

  “Put me down! I can walk!” She screamed, kicked her legs, and beat his arm with her fists.

  But it was useless. That man’s grasps were firm and his arms were made of steel. She felt like a helpless kitten in a hawk’s talons.

  He deposited her at the entrance of the cave and took off her wet jacket.

  “Now, Snow, be a good girl and wait for me right here.” He patted on her head as if she was a pet dog.

  She glared at him “Sure, Prince!”

  He grinned. When he was running back to the road she realized a subtle allusion: Prince and Snow…white?

  He parked the bike under a big pine tree, and covered the suitcases with the jacket. Then he held her hand and led her into the cave.

  There were tree branches scattering on the floor and in the center of the cave was the remnant of a fire.

  “Good, someone has been here not long before.” He went to the fire and added branches to it. After a few blows, the flames burned fiercely.

  “It’s a rest station,” he explained as he was making the fire. “Not long before the only transportation tools were our own legs. And it took at least half a day to get to town from the villages. So we made use of the caves along the way.”

  Still resentful about being forced into the cave, she muttered, “What kind of a rest station is it? Doesn’t even have a chair.”

  “Chair?” He laughed as if the suggestion was absurd. “Chairs are not part of our culture.”

  "You must be kidding." She looked at him skeptically.

  But Nobul looked serious when he said, "No I'm not. We sit on the floor, just like the Japanese." While saying, he sat down cross-legged on the floor matted with pine needles, and tapped on the space next to him, beckoning her to join him.

  Oh my god, she gasped. She hadn’t expected such primitive conditions. Poor Charlene, how she must have suffered! And why didn't she tell her?