by Jeannie Lin
“What is that?”
She started toward the weapon, but paused to stare at the scattered pile of his belongings. The letter protruded from the knapsack.
The letter with the imperial seal.
“Mei Lin.” He lunged for her at the same moment her fingers closed around the paper. “Give me that.”
His body stretched over hers and she twisted until they were once again face-to-face. The paper crumpled as she tightened her grip. Her eyes narrowed defiantly.
So beautiful, and she didn’t even realize it.
This time their struggle was brief. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.
* * *
The first touch of his lips streaked hot through her. She had experienced Shen Leung’s strength in their duel, but now his magnificent body anchored her to the ground. His hand twisted into her hair, angling her to him. He urged her lips apart and her body curved into his without thinking.
He kissed as well as he fought.
Vaguely she felt his fingers work over hers, loosening the letter from her grasp.
“You’re not a gentleman at all,” she murmured against his mouth.
He laughed. By now he had retrieved his precious letter, but she didn’t care. He captured her mouth again. His tongue caressed hers wickedly, making her dizzy with pleasure. He tasted like rice wine. She let her arms circle his shoulders, gliding her hands over sleek, smooth muscle.
What had she come to do? Seduce him? Kill him? She didn’t remember anymore. She only knew she wanted more of him.
“We shouldn’t,” he protested, but his hand slipped into the opening of her tunic.
His hand closed over her breast and he stroked her nipple with his thumb. She arched into him, her eyes squeezed shut to savor the feelings he was showing her. The first time anyone had shown her.
“Shen Leung.”
“I like that.” He worked the sash at her waist. “Say my name again.”
His mouth found her throat, seeking out a spot that was especially sensitive. She lifted her chin to give him access, to give him anything he wanted. He kissed her neck before biting gently and she jumped at the shock of the touch.
“I imagined this.” His fingertips trailed down over her stomach. The exploring touch sent ripples down her spine. “While you stood across from me in the town square. I could barely concentrate.”
“I...I felt the same.”
She didn’t know what to say to him that wouldn’t sound inept. How could she tell him that she’d never felt so close to anyone? That she’d felt this way the moment they stood across from each other, swords drawn. What would he think if he knew the extent of her surrender?
Her breath caught as his hand traced a line to her other breast and circled lazily, stoking a slow fire in her. He watched her so intently, breathing harder with each caress. Her body grew damp down below, responding to him in hidden ways she’d never known.
His voice was low and sensual. “I wish I could promise you anything you wanted.”
She reached for him, her hand curling around the back of his neck to pull him back down. He yielded and kissed her with a raw edge of hunger that thrilled her.
He was so strong and wonderfully...male. She couldn’t think of any other words. His hard member pressed against her hip. She had only vague notions of what this all meant—the secrets between men and women. The mystery of it excited her even more.
He forced himself apart, still fighting her. “I won’t let this happen.”
He should have known better than to challenge her like that. She raised her hips to him and Shen Leung groaned. His hands fisted in her hair and his eyes closed, the look on his face caught between pleasure and agony.
“I can’t stay,” he said through gritted teeth.
She held on to him. The feel of him hard against her was too wonderful to relinquish. She wanted his hands on her again, his mouth on her, touching her everywhere. Boldly she reached for the edge of his trousers. Her fingertips skimmed the hard muscle of his stomach.
“No.”
He snatched her hand away, once again pinning it over her head. But this time his fingers threaded through hers. The savage tenderness of it rendered her heart in two.
Every muscle in his body strained above her and his breathing came in ragged bursts. “I have to go. There are... There are duties I’ve sworn to fulfill. If we gave in and made love tonight, what would happen to you when I leave?”
“What if you swear to me?” she asked.
“What?”
“Tell me you’ll return and I’ll believe you.”
She burrowed her face against his neck to hide from the reckless need coursing through her. She’d never begged anyone for anything. The shame of it.
“Mei Lin, you’re worth more than this.”
His words only made her burn for him. She choked back tears of frustration.
“Must you be so honorable?”
Slowly he eased her away so that he could see her face. “I can’t promise you anything when I don’t know what the next day will bring for me. I don’t know if I’ll be near or far or if I’ll be fortunate enough to be breathing.”
She touched a tentative hand to his cheek. “Are you saying there’s a chance you can be killed?”
His eyes had grown dark and serious. He hesitated before answering. “Nothing is certain.”
“It’s dangerous work you do for the empire, isn’t it?”
From the way his jaw tightened, she knew she was right and that he would say nothing more. Her desire faded only to be replaced by an even greater longing: the need to remain close to Shen Leung and know that he was safe.
“You should go home now,” he said.
“Let me stay just a little longer,” she pleaded.
“No.”
He planted a kiss on her lips and then another on her forehead. Then he rested his brow against hers and for a few precious moments, she listened to the sound of his breathing and wished that the moment wouldn’t end. Finally he got up and moved away.
So she went. With every step, she wondered about the stories they told about him: acts of nobility, protecting the weak and righting small injustices. There was so much more to him she wanted to know. She thought of the hunger in his eyes and hoped that if she walked slowly enough, he would call her back. But he didn’t.
CHAPTER THREE
She awoke earlier than usual to open the noodle shop. Actually she hadn’t slept at all. By daybreak, she was already standing between the empty tables, staring at the stretch of road leading through town. What if Shen Leung rose before dawn and left without a single farewell?
She’d stayed up, thinking over every moment she had spent with him. The memories that had started out so bright and clear had become twisted while she lay curled up in bed. He was worldly, so much more experienced than her in every way. Her overtures must have seemed laughable to him.
But he had kissed her. Again and again, like he wanted her and needed her. He’d called her beautiful. He did want her, but not enough—
“Mei Lin!” Uncle’s sharp tone cut through her meandering thoughts. “You’ve been wiping that same bowl for an hour.”
She stared at the dishrag in her hands and the porcelain with its faded blue pattern. Uncle started grumbling his usual rant about how she ate all the rice and was nothing but a worthless girl. Her temper suddenly got the better of her.
“This bowl?” She held it high and then dashed it to the ground. An angry sound pierced the morning as it shattered to pieces. “Now I don’t need to wash it anymore.”
“Disrespectful! You’ll pay for that.” He shook his finger at her and grumbled his way down the lane to share morning tea with old Chang.
As soon as he disappeared, she regrett
ed her rashness. Breaking things and causing a storm so early in the morning simply because she was lonely. It was the first time she’d admitted it. She was lonely here.
She bent to pick up the porcelain shards and found herself face-to-face with Shen Leung. He’d somehow come to kneel beside her. Her hands fumbled over the broken pieces while he tried to help. His fingers were long and graceful and she was so clumsy. They stood at the same time and she was at a loss as she looked up at him.
“I’m not always like this,” she said in a near whisper.
His flawless manners had returned. “I can pay for that.”
“Nonsense. This wasn’t your fault.”
But it was because of him. The sharp edges of the porcelain dug into her palms. He had filled her head and taken over her thoughts. She wanted to cry just looking at him and she didn’t know why. It was unbearable to want someone so much, so quickly.
He pressed a copper into her hand. His thumb traced the edge of her palm needlessly. He slung his travel pack over one shoulder and the sight of it caused an immeasurable sadness within her.
“Won’t you stay and have something to eat?” Her attempt to sound bright failed.
“No, I should go.”
He was standing close enough for her to feel the heat of his body and search every expression that flickered across his face. She was still holding on to the broken bowl awkwardly and there was nothing clever she could conjure up to keep him there a few moments longer.
Her voice grew faint. “Please be careful.”
“It is beyond my right to demand this, but don’t accept any more of those challenges. That is no proper way for a maiden to find a husband.”
It wasn’t as if she wanted these ridiculous fights. Or that she had any choice when Zhou was intent on harassing her. Still, his request was kindly meant.
“You can make any demand you wish.” She looked down demurely. “You did win our duel.”
He fidgeted with the strap of his pack. “Perhaps my travels will take me back this way one day.”
It wasn’t quite a promise, but her heart leaped. If they weren’t in the middle of town, would he have kissed her? She was already spinning dreams in her head.
“Lady Wu,” he said with a slight bow. And then added, “Mei Lin.” He lingered over her name like a slow caress.
“Master Shen.”
And with that, he was gone.
* * *
Mei Lin hefted the basket in her arms and hurried through the woods surrounding town. Auntie Yin had protested that the wash didn’t yet need to be done, but Mei Lin had grabbed several clean articles of clothing before rushing out. There was a view of the road from a bend in the river. If she hurried, she might catch just one more glimpse of her swordsman.
“Eh, Mei Lin!”
The hated Chen Wang. What was he doing out here without his cronies anyway? She skirted around him.
“Wait, where are you going so quickly?”
“I’m busy.”
“It seems even the great Shen Leung can’t bear your temper.”
She ignored the heat rising up the back of her neck and walked faster.
He clung to her like a shadow. “Maybe toothless Lo needs a wife.”
“How’s the eye, Wang?” she countered.
There was a notable break in the determined rhythm of his footsteps behind her. “I was drunk!”
All of her skirmishes with Wang and his brood seemed inconsequential now, like incidents from another life. Shen Leung had brought a new awareness that her corner of the world was so small. Beyond these woods were greater towns and cities, glittering palaces and dangerous missions.
She spun around to chase Wang and his mosquito buzzing away, but a hulking figure among the trees caught her eye.
“Wu Mei Lin.”
Another stranger with her name on his lips. This time a cold shudder ran down her spine as the intruder’s black eyes skimmed over her from head to toe.
Wang shoved himself between them. “Who are you?”
“Let’s just say an acquaintance of Lord Zhou. He sends his regards.”
Zhou again. But this one didn’t look like the other fools who had strutted into town. He didn’t move like them. His eyes never left hers while he stalked toward them, taking up all the space in the clearing. There was a knife at his belt. Her hands tightened over the basket.
Her swords were tucked away beneath her mattress. Their little town had always been a quiet place. A safe place.
The stranger grinned. His teeth gleamed against the darkness of his beard. “You’re as pretty as Zhou said.”
“Wang, get out of here.”
But Wang stood fast. “Run, Mei Lin.”
Blood pumped through her, sick with fear. She threw the laundry basket at the stranger’s head. At the same time, Wang leaped forward and threw his arm over the man’s neck. The skinny merchant’s son wrestling an ox by the horns.
“Run!” Wang shouted.
“Yes, Mei Lin,” the stranger mocked. “Run.”
There was a snap followed by a howl of pain. She looked back to see Wang on the ground. His face was twisted in agony. He had one hand clutched over his arm.
But Zhou’s minion had no interest in Wang. He came after her, his long stride closing the distance between them. Her heart was hammering so hard it took over her senses. Her head pounded. Her hands shook.
She aimed a kick for his groin, but he was ready for it. Her foot landed against his thigh and he laughed at her. In desperation, she struck at his throat. The heel of her palm connected and he staggered back, wheezing. Behind him, Wang had pulled himself onto his knees.
“Get help,” she called out.
She was running again, dodging toward the trees and praying she was fast enough. Suddenly the forest looked foreign to her. Nothing made sense. Her legs felt sluggish in her panic. A rough hand clamped on to her arm and jerked her backward.
Something struck her across the face. The pain blinded her and she staggered, but the stranger held her up. His fingers dug into her shoulder and she tried to claw at him. The powerlessness overwhelmed her. He struck her again and then tossed her to the ground.
She tasted blood, blood and the salt of her own tears. The pain wouldn’t go away.
The stranger stood over her like a conquering lord. The faint rustle of cloth sent a new stab of fear through her.
“Zhou said to come begging at his doorstep and he might be generous. That is, if you can still walk when I’m done with you.”
He stepped closer. She clutched a hand to her cheek. She forced herself to look up, otherwise the fear would choke her and she’d drown. Her master had defied warlords and defied men far more powerful than this vagrant. Mei Lin tried to summon that fighting spirit into herself, but all she could find was a ghost of her master’s strength.
“When I see that coward Zhou—” Her swollen lips trembled. “I’ll cut his throat.”
She hated that tears stung in her eyes. Hated that he laughed at her, this man who was there to violate and possibly kill her. All because she had dared to say no to an appointed official.
A coldness took over and her body no longer felt like her own. She bit down hard against her lip as the stranger loomed overhead. He loosened his belt and his tunic hung open. She screamed at herself to flee, to fight, to do anything.
Suddenly he was dragged away. Another figure appeared before her, lean and tall and strong. One she would know anywhere.
CHAPTER FOUR
Shen Leung grabbed the man and planted a fist into his nose. His knuckles jarred against bone and flesh. He caught sight of Mei Lin crumpled on the ground and hit the man again.
“Get up.”
There was no skill involved. Only brute strength and ang
er. He flexed his fingers and ignored the dull throb in them as he advanced on the coward. The man was larger than he was, yet he dared to hit a woman. Not any woman. His Mei Lin.
His.
A film clouded his eyes and a dark wrath filled him. The surge of power was nearly frightening. The fiend stumbled back against a tree with blood pouring from his broken nose. The man made the mistake of reaching for his knife.
The sight of a weapon sparked some instinct within Shen Leung. His hand closed over the hilt and the knife became part of him. In a single smooth motion, he stabbed the blade through the man’s palm, pinning it against the tree.
The scream tore through the woods.
The sound woke him from his bloodlust and he was able to break through the anger and look at this animal impassively. Violence was sometimes unavoidable. Men like this only responded to swift, decisive action.
He leaned in close while the man cursed him. “Run far,” he commanded quietly.
Shen Leung didn’t watch to see how the man detached himself or where he fled to afterward. His anger refused to cool as he listened to the fading footsteps.
Mei Lin stood with her arms hugged around herself. She spoke his name as he circled an arm around her shoulders.
“Are you hurt?”
“No.”
But he could see where she’d been struck. He touched her mouth gingerly. “Zhou?” he asked through clenched teeth.
She could only nod. Mei Lin had tried to be strong. He should have expected that when she insisted that the old tyrant was harmless. She pressed against his side and fitted herself against him, trembling. He led her to the river and sat her down on a flattened stone on the bank. Without a word, he bent to soak his handkerchief in the water. She sat with her hands folded, watching him. Her lip bled and he could see the darkening signs of a bruise over her cheekbone.
He pressed the damp cloth against the swelling. The grateful look she gave him pierced straight to his heart.
“I didn’t know Shen Leung could lose his temper like that,” she said.
