"Black, mainly. The special kind of black."

"When are you meeting him again?"

"Who says I am?"

"I do. You're a good pearl man, Teddy, but you're greedy. The goods are stolen. You know it as well as I do."

"I don't know any such thing." He smiled an off-center smile. "So tell me how is it better if you buy them than if I do?"

"They're already half mine by law."

Teddy shut his mouth, studied Archer, then slowly shook his head. "Nope. I'm not buying it."

Hannah flicked her nails against the tabletop, drawing Teddy's attention. "You'd better buy it, boy-o, or you'll go to jail for receiving stolen goods."

"Who's she?" Teddy asked.

"Hannah McGarry. She owns the other half of Pearl Cove, the Australian pearl farm that grew those black rainbows."

"Well... s.h.i.t." Teddy leaned back in his chair and sighed hugely. "On the good-news side, I wasn't looking forward to seeing the Dragon Moon again."

Neither was Archer. But how he felt about it wasn't on the table. "When?"

"Tomorrow morning."

"You weren't flying very far today, were you?" Hannah asked idly, but her eyes were cold indigo.

"Just down to San Francisco."

She raised her dark eyebrows.

"Look," Teddy said defensively, "he gave me a bill of sale "

"In Chinese, which you don't read," she cut in.

" for those pearls. That's all the law requires."

For a moment she closed her eyes. Weariness rolled through her like a long, breaking wave. "The letter of the law. Lovely." Then, before Teddy could say any more, her eyes opened again. They were as bleak as Archer's. "I'm not judging you, Mr. Yamagata. If I did, I'd say that you're more honest than the law requires in the vast majority of your dealings. This deal, however, was the exception that proved your rule."

Teddy grimaced and didn't argue. "There's something about those pearls...."

"They blunt a man's judgment," she said curtly. "I'm surprised you sold them."

"I'm a trader, not a collector. For me it's the deal, not the goods."

"What time tomorrow are you meeting Yin?" Hannah asked.

"Six a.m."

"I didn't think the Dragon Moon opened that early," Archer said.

Teddy shrugged. "They probably feed a lot of the invisible workers."

"Illegal immigrants," Archer explained to Hannah. "The ones who work for a few bucks a day in eight-by-ten sweatshops or fancy restaurants to pay off the smuggler who got them into the U.S. Obviously a Red Phoenix Triad smuggler, in this case."

Teddy winced. "C'mon, Archer. The place is a dump, but not that bad."

"The Dragon Moon is the Red Phoenix base in Seattle," Archer said matter-of-factly. "There are apartments above the restaurant for visitors from Hong Kong, Kowloon, Shanghai, the southern provinces of China, and anywhere else the triad has its tentacles. Everything the triad buys, sells, steals, or makes in illegal labs can be found inside the Dragon Moon's riot-proof metal doors."

"How do you know?" Teddy demanded.

"Does it matter?"

"Not to me," Teddy decided instantly, remembering again the rumors he had heard about Archer's past. "Anything else you need before I catch my plane?"

"How will I recognize Yin?"

"He's got a black eye the size of a pizza and a gash across his chin."

Archer's eyebrows rose, but all he said was, "Does Yin speak English?"

"No. He put out a pearl, I put out money, and when the amount was right, we exchanged. But there was a translator a few tables over. She was working with a bunch of guys in silk suits. She was pretty fancy herself. s.e.xy enough to make a man sixty feel like sixteen."

"Chinese?" Archer asked.

"ABC."

Hannah glanced at Archer.

"American-born Chinese," he said without looking away from Teddy. And probably her name was April Joy. The description certainly fit. So did the method. It wasn't the first time she had worked as a translator in order to penetrate a triad. "How many more pearls are we talking about?"

"Twenty times what I bought before. Two hundred pearls. Maybe more. Hand signals only go so far as a way of counting."

Another shot of adrenaline kicked into Archer's bloodstream. "Does he expect cash?"

"Yeah."

"Are you telling me you were going to walk into the Dragon Moon with a hundred thousand in cash?"

Teddy looked pained. "That's what he wanted. Besides, I got him down to one eighty-five."

"Did you see the pearls he wants to sell?"

"You bet I did."

"Describe them."

"Three sizes. Twelve, fourteen, and sixteen millimeters. Round as marbles. Same black opal orient."

Hannah felt as though her stomach had dropped through her shoes. She examined her fingernails and prayed that nothing showed on her face.

"Matched?" Archer asked.

"Hard to tell in that light. They looked good to me. No big surface flaws. Fine orient. And they rolled across the table without staggering. Round. Really round. Beautiful goods."

Deliberately Archer picked up his coffee and drank a swallow. "Drilled?"

"Nope. Virgin. Just like the others."

"Sounds like a steal at ten times the price," Archer said casually.

"Yeah." Teddy's voice was wistful. "I was going to put half of what I made in a school fund for my grandchildren. I've got eight of the little darlings and another on final approach."

"Look at it this way. Now you'll live to see them graduate."

"Oh, Yin didn't look like that tough a monkey."

"I wasn't talking about Yin." Archer stood up. "Have a nice trip. And if you see any more of those pearls, Teddy, call me. Just me."

The Donovan was an inch taller than his sons, and Susa was inches smaller than her daughters. Despite that, Susa wasn't as fragile as she looked. The steely discipline of an artist underlay her porcelain skin. The even tougher will of a mother lay beneath her warm smile. Because it was a party, she had dressed in a turquoise silk tunic top with slim black pants underneath. A necklace of baroque abalone pearls and handmade silver links circled her neck. Matching earrings and bracelet gleamed with each movement. The pearls had been a birthday present from her oldest son. The unusual design and workmanship were her twin daughters' present. The odd turquoise and gold of her eyes was a gift from a grandfather she had never met.

The door of the Donovan condo hadn't closed behind Susa before she recognized the approaching footsteps.

"Archer," she said, delighted. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to make it. Don was maddeningly vague about your plans." As she spoke, she glanced over her shoulder at the man who filled the doorway. His thick black hair was streaked with silver, his body was straight and strong beneath the casual rust sweater and black slacks, and she smiled with pleasure just at being near him.

"Miss one of The Donovan's command performances?" Archer said, grinning as he crossed the living room to the entry. "Not likely. I feel guilty about everyone rescheduling the party just for me, though."

"Don't be silly," she said, holding out her arms. "Don said he could have a birthday whenever he d.a.m.n well pleased."

Archer scooped his mother up in a big hug. Only Susa called The Donovan by his given name, just as only Susa was privileged to wind The Donovan around her little finger. The power flowed both ways, because she was wound just as tightly around his.

"More beautiful than ever," Archer said, kissing his mother soundly. "But still too skinny."

"Bite your tongue," she muttered, and gave him another kiss. "I'm just fashionable."

Though he smiled, he looked over his mother's honey-gold hair to his father. The Donovan nodded slightly, silently telling his son that Susa's health was good. Archer let out a long, silent breath. The thought of his mother hurting made him feel helpless. It wasn't a feeling he liked. "Is she here?" Susa asked. "She?"

"Len's widow."

Again Archer looked at his father.

The Donovan smiled rather sadly. "She knows. She knew before she married me. I just... wanted to spare her any..." Susa's small fingers threaded through her husband's. She smiled up at him. "Silly goose." On tiptoe she kissed him. "Wonderful goose. I knew I wasn't your first."

"You were my last."

"Yes. And you were mine. That's all that matters." He bent down and murmured something against her ear that made color rise in her cheeks and put a sparkle in her eyes. "Wicked, wicked man."

Archer grinned. "You wouldn't have him any other way, and you know it."

"Hush. I don't want him to know it."

"Too late, Mom. The cat got out of that bag before I was born."

Hannah walked into the living area and stopped cold, feeling like an intruder. The affection between the three Donovans was as clear and potent as sunlight. But that wasn't what made her go still. It was the change in Archer. Though he was dressed in black jeans and a black sweater, he looked... lighter. Nowhere did she see the remote, controlled man he had been to her since he had stalked out of the bedroom last night.

Tension deep inside her loosened and relief swept through her, leaving her with a feeling close to floating. Obviously he had gotten over his rage and was ready to be reasonable about their relationship. Two consenting adults, nothing more... and nothing less. The searing ecstasy she hungered for was once again close enough to touch, to taste.

He turned, sensing her. The instant he saw her, he changed. Doors slamming, bolts going home, shut down. Shutting her out. The fires that burned within him were out of her reach.

Emotions stabbed through her like dark lightning. She chose anger and ignored the rest, because admitting that she was hurt was something she refused to do. She lifted her chin, squared her shoulders, and walked up to Archer's parents.

"Mr. Donovan, Mrs. Donovan, I'm Hannah McGarry. It's kind of you to let me stay in your home. Since it's obvious you're going to have a full house tonight, I won't impose. Perhaps you could suggest a hotel where "

"No." Archer's voice was cold. "You came to me for two things. It's easier to protect you here than in a hotel."

The tension crackling between Hannah and Archer made Susa's eyes narrow. Don looked from his son to the daughter-in-law he had never known. She was tall, nicely curved, with short sun-streaked brown hair and eyes so dark a blue he at first thought they were black. Their indigo gleam was repeated in a silk blouse whose open collar revealed a smooth throat, a large pearl choker of dubious quality, and just enough cleavage to tempt a man. The black jeans she wore fit her like a shadow and were so new they whispered when she walked.

From a man's point of view, it was a walk worth watching.

Susa glanced from her suddenly icy son to the tall woman with stunning eyes and a chip as big as a fist on her shoulder. "What's wrong?" Susa asked bluntly.

Archer looked at his father. "Unless you object, I'm telling her all of it."

His father shrugged. "Go ahead. She'd get it out of me before morning anyway."

In the neutral, concise manner of a man giving a report, Archer told Susa about Pearl Cove, Len, the Black Trinity, and the danger to Hannah until Len's murderer was found. Archer didn't mention the Red Phoenix Triad, April Joy, or the international p.i.s.sing match over the luxury pearl trade.

Susa listened, but it was Hannah she watched, Hannah she weighed as though she was an incomplete canvas.

"I see," Susa said when Archer was finished. "You're welcome here as long as you want to stay, Ms. McGarry."

"I won't impose long. With luck, we'll find the Black Trinity tomorrow. Then we can ask Yin how a Pearl Cove employee came to have a fortune in stolen pearls."

"Yin is your employee?" Don asked sharply. "He was," Archer said. "Obviously he's gone freelance." Don grunted, gave his son a glance from wintry, cobalt blue eyes. He knew Archer was leaving out some important things; he didn't want Susa to know what those things were. "Are the girls here yet?"

"Jake and Summer are dressing," Archer said. "Honor and Kyle are frosting a cake in the kitchen, Lianne is on the phone with Hong Kong about some jade, and Faith is facedown in her room. She's been working eighty-hour weeks, and those are the short ones."

Susa smiled rather grimly. "She could work twice that and still be better off without that... without Tony."

"No argument here," Archer said. "One of the best days of my life was two weeks ago, when she showed up without that son of a b.i.t.c.h."

Kyle strode in from the kitchen area. "Hi, Mom and Dad. Are we speaking of the s.h.i.t-eating insect?" he asked cheerfully between licks on a frosting-covered spoon.

"Do tell us how you feel about your sister's ex-fiance," Susa said in a dry tone.

"I just did." He bent down and kissed the corner of his mother's mouth. "You're looking good enough to frost and eat."

Warily Susa licked her now sweet lips and watched the masculine hand waving a spoon heaped with icing. "Try it and I'll make you sit for a portrait."