Silver Fox (Silver Shifters 2)

“ . . . genderless goat bellies

Cock ribs cow udders

Cricket carapace

Old young blood sinew Armageddon.”

Doris said firmly, “Very original images, Cassandra. I’m afraid I’m fairly ignorant poetry-wise, but I certainly reacted to that imagery.”

“Cricket carapaces,” someone else observed in a tentative voice. “Very . . . unique!”

Joey reflected on how story in any form can be an extension of self.

He was careful not to stare at Doris too often lest she feel it, so he was unprepared for her to say, “And we’re down to our newcomer. Have you anything to offer, Mr. Hu? Or should I say Professor Hu?”

Tell her a story about us, his fox yipped.

FIVE

DORIS

Doris fought against staring at Joey Hu the entire evening.

It should have been easy. Moderating the group took all her attention even when there wasn’t a newcomer. But no matter how hard she concentrated on making sure the talkers didn’t squash the shy, silent people, and seeing that everyone got a turn—and their fair share of comments—she was always aware of Joey. She only let herself take a single look, but she could feel him.

That one glance was imprinted in her mind like an oil painting. He hadn’t dressed to impress, the way Bill did, in flashy clothes that were too tight. She had learned to sew as a child, so she knew about fabric.

Joey wore excellent fabrics in muted colors. His clothes were well made, suited to the proportions of an active man. And she sensed he was an active man. He was not much taller than she, and slim, but she’d noted the curve of muscle in his arms and along his thighs. No paunch or sloped shoulders there!

Now I understand what Godiva means about arm porn, she thought.

All during the last few readers, she was increasingly aware that she was going to have to speak to him. Offer him a chance to read.

She nerved herself to turn his way and keep things professional. Gah! She hated that word, after hearing Bill bash it about week after week. She had to maintain her Teacher Face. That was it. Teacher Face had eased her through many nightmarish parent conferences, and dull meetings with pompous administrators who had never actually stepped inside a classroom once they’d graduated from school themselves.

She could do this.

She had her Teacher Face in full force as she invited Joey to speak—and too many words rambled out. She suppressed a groan, intensely aware of how inane she must sound, calling him Mr. Hu, or should I say Professor Hu.

But he smiled. Right at her. It was not a sarcastic smirk like Bill gave women, or a bland nothing of a smile the way she knew her Teacher Face smiled. It was a quick, beaming smile that acted on her like stepping into clear, warm sunlight after being enclosed in a stuffy, air-chilled building.

He didn’t move an inch, but for a breathless heartbeat they were the only two people in the room, just her and that golden gaze, with an errant lock of hair drifting across his forehead above his slim form. She gripped her hands tightly, trying to squeeze out the urge to smooth that lock back, and feel if it was as soft as it looked.

She managed to wrench her gaze away as he said, “I’ll tell you a very old Chinese myth, the Story of the White Snake.” His voice was soft, mellow, pleasant— and she could breathe again. “I realize it’s late, so I’ll keep it to a short version.”

Now Doris was in agony lest someone be rude to him. She gritted her teeth as Bill smothered a yawn and Cassandra picked at one of her bracelets.

Doris’s attention leaped back to Joey as the mild, warm voice went on, “There are many versions, for this legend is centuries old. Likewise she has various names, but we’ll stick with the simple Lady Bai—bai meaning white.”

He smiled as he held up his hand. “She had a best friend, another snake, named Lady Green. The two snakes had spent many years studying the classics

in order to improve mind, body, and spirit. The heavens granted them the ability to become humans, and so, one day, she and Lady Green transformed themselves and strolled over a bridge in order to enjoy a beautiful spring day.”

His hands swooped, indicating an arched bridge, and then he spread his fingers to sketch trees blossoming in spring. Doris was so mesmerized by his hands she almost missed the thread of the story.

“ . . . the two maidens reveled in the clear, warm air, the chuckle of water under the bridge, and the green of spring. They began a game, each composing a poem to celebrate their delight. They clapped at the efforts of the other—but Lady Green insisted that Lady Bai, whose improvement exceeded that of her friend, was the best. Then they were taken by surprise as from the banks of the river a voice rose, offering a poem in compliment to Bai’s. The two snakes crossed over to discover a handsome young man on the far bank, also enjoying the scenery. His name was Xu Xian. He was a student preparing for the imperial examination . . .”

Doris shut her eyes against the distraction of those beautiful hands, the quick glimmer of humor in Joey’s voice as Lady Bai and Xu Xian fell in love over poetry and the music of nature in spring.