Silk, Swords and Surrender: The Touch of MoonlightThe Taming of Mei LinThe Lady's Scandalous NightAn Illicit TemptationCapturing the Silken Thief

by Jeannie Lin

  He stiffened. “I don’t like to.”

  “Why didn’t you draw your sword?”

  “If I had, I would have killed that man.”

  These weren’t the barbarian pastures. There were laws to be upheld.

  “I wouldn’t have felt any regret.” She fought to keep her voice steady as he dabbed at the corner of her mouth. The sight of her beautiful face marred like this sent a fresh wave of anger through him.

  “Me neither,” he said.

  He should have trusted his instincts from the beginning. He should have never walked away from Mei Lin. Tenderly he ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes to absorb his touch. The tension in his body transformed immediately to desire, but he fought it. This wasn’t the time—yet her fingers tangled into the front of his tunic, willing him closer.

  “You’re only frightened,” he protested.

  She shook her head. He knew what she was asking. It was torture to keep denying her when he’d wanted her since his first glimpse of her standing in the sunlight. When some bastard had nearly taken her from him.

  “Let me take you home.”

  “I thought I would die when I saw you walk away,” she whispered.

  “We can talk later.”

  “Stop fighting me.”

  There was trust and longing in her eyes. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe forever. She had stopped trembling. He brushed his thumb over her jaw and her lips parted with a sigh. He kissed her, gently at first, then deeper with each moment. His hand slid down to the small of her back and she pressed feverishly against him.

  Mei Lin’s arms circled his neck as she explored his mouth. He grew hard in an instant. She didn’t want a protector, she wanted reassurance and comfort. She wanted him. In a moment of decision, he braced his knee against the rock and dragged her into his arms.

  Her hands stole beneath his tunic while he carried her to the riverbank and laid her down in a patch of wild grass. The touch of her hands over his bare skin drove him mad. She roamed over his chest and stroked lower over his stomach. He grew tight with anticipation, his cock heavy.

  “When I saw you, I knew,” he said.

  He ran his hands through her hair. She was looking up at him with her eyes lidded and sensual, her flawless skin framed by the tall grass around them. She was too beautiful for words. He kissed her because he had to. He needed to absorb her, take her and make her his.

  “I knew this was how it would be with us, but I denied myself. I didn’t want to dream.”

  “You talk too much,” she chided.

  Her clever fingers pulled the ties of his trousers loose and suddenly he was throbbing with her hands around him, so soft. He thrust mindlessly into her grasp, reaching toward heaven.

  * * *

  Mei Lin’s heartbeat quickened. This was so reckless of her. Anyone could come and find them and at that moment, she didn’t care. Her world had narrowed until there was only the man above her, his face blocking out the sky. From all the stories the old wives told, she should be frightened. Her virtue was in peril. She would be scandalized. But Shen Leung didn’t frighten her.

  His flesh swelled against her palms, the skin fine and smooth like silk and hot to the touch. His eyes were closed and his expression bordered on pain, every muscle in his face taut. He had one hand fisted in the grass beside her ear and his breathing was labored.

  She had no experience in these things, but she had good instincts. She ran her hand over the thick length of him.

  “Mei Lin.”

  He gasped out her name as his fingers tangled into her hair. His kiss was almost forceful. His warm tongue took her mouth and her breath became his breath. She grew dizzy. Before she knew what was happening he had opened her top to caress her breasts.

  Her fingers slipped listlessly from him as pleasure arched through her in waves. His touch was so knowing, so experienced. For a second, she wished that she could be wearing perfume and silk and be enchanting.

  She parted his tunic as well, following his lead. He was as beautiful and strong as she remembered. She ran her hands over solid muscle. The image of his bare chest had plagued her through the night.

  He brushed her hands aside and for a moment she was confused. But only for a moment. His mouth descended to close over her breast and suddenly her body was no longer her own. It arched into him, a wild, wanton creature. A strangled cry escaped her lips. She wanted more.

  He gave her more. His tongue slid over her nipple and she writhed in his arms. He did it again, rougher this time, his teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive bud. No longer careful, almost cruel. She sobbed and held on to him while he parted her legs. There was no time to even remove all of their clothing. The wickedness of it took her breath away.

  He entered her, flesh to flesh easing deep and invoking a confusing tumble of emotion. Surrender and possession. There was an exquisite pain as he filled her, a focusing of all sensation at the point where their bodies joined. And she was surprised to discover she loved all of it—the sensation of being stretched beyond bearing, even the slight hitch of pain. She cried out as he entered her completely. Her legs wrapped around him and she buried her face against his throat. His pulse thrummed against her lips, calling to her.

  He groaned her name and she bit his neck. She’d learned that from him. She learned a lot of other things, too. When she lifted her hips he held her tighter. His fingers pressed into the small of her back and his movements became more jagged and uncontrolled.

  The pleasure-pain reached a crest and her entire body tightened. Her vision blurred. Everything vanished. Even Shen Leung, except for the unrelenting swell of him within her and the solid muscle of his shoulders where she clung to him.

  When she opened her eyes again he was watching her. He cradled her, lifting her away from the ground while he rocked into her, watching her face with each thrust.

  It didn’t take long. His body tightened and he crushed his mouth over hers. It wasn’t a kiss anymore. The caress was raw and desperate. He ground against her lips as he pushed himself deep. Then he held her tight while he shuddered over her, groaning with his release as the skies opened.

  The stillness afterward went on for a long time.

  A long time.

  Honor was everything to Shen Leung according to the tales they told. Would he marry her now? Was it even possible between a wandering swordsman working for the imperial court and a nameless girl in a nothing town? She blinked up at him, waiting.

  He stroked her hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers. “You’re so beautiful,” he said finally, and she held her breath. He would tell her now. He had to.

  “That dog Zhou and I are going to have a conversation,” he said instead. “Today.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  Shen Leung took her back to the edge of town. His hand remained cradled around her the entire time, but then he left her.

  “Zhou will never harm you again,” he vowed.

  But that wasn’t the vow she was waiting for. He had to realize that. She wanted to know what it was between them, whether he thought of her with each breath, the way she did with him.

  She halted when she reached the noodle stand. The tables had been upended, the bowls and dishes smashed. Uncle shuffled among the ruins and Auntie dragged her broom silently through the fragments.

  “This was all because of you.” Uncle’s voice shook. “So disobedient! And ungrateful! Zhou made a good offer, better than you will ever have.”

  Uncle went on and all she could do was stand with her eyes cast downward as he berated her. Auntie went on sweeping and said nothing.

  “Now you’ve angered him. See all this?”

  “Yes, Uncle.”

  It would have been disrespectful not to answer. Uncle and Aun
tie had fed and provided for her since her parents had died. They weren’t kind, but they were far from cruel.

  “What are we going to do now?” he ranted.

  “I’ll take care of this, Uncle.”

  “You’ll do nothing!”

  The broken benches reminded her more than ever that she had never belonged. She had brought this turmoil upon their peaceful town. She was more an outsider than even Shen Leung. The only time the world made sense was when they were together. But why had he left so quickly after the things he’d said to her? After the things they’d done?

  “Worthless.” Uncle left her to grumble at Auntie Yin.

  Wang hovered outside the stand. His left arm hung in a sling and he winced when he saw the bruise on her cheek.

  “There were two of them,” he reported. “I wasn’t here to stop them, but next time...”

  His cronies circled the avenue restlessly, prowling for a fight. For once, she felt an itch of pride in their dogged obedience.

  Wang lowered his voice, sounding genuinely anguished. “I should have never left you alone, Mei Lin.”

  “It would have been worse if you hadn’t found Shen Leung.”

  “Shen Leung?” He blinked at her. “But I never called him.”

  She had assumed Wang had sent Shen Leung to her rescue. If Shen had returned to her on his own...

  She took a deep breath. “Take care of Uncle and Auntie.”

  Wang nodded solemnly and, just like that, their old grudge swept away on the breeze.

  She hurried to the house. They lived not twenty paces from the noodle shop, in a two room hovel that was cramped even before she had arrived. She went to the mat in the corner of the front room. The butterfly swords were there beneath it, her only possessions. She thought of Shen Leung as she lifted them.

  He had returned for her.

  His lips had brushed against her hair after they made love. She had nestled against him, afraid to ask what would happen next. She didn’t even know the words for it. There was more than honor and the need to set things right. She had to believe that.

  Once outside, she bowed to Uncle. “Thank you for your generosity all these years.”

  Uncle snorted and turned his back on her as she started down the road. Auntie hurried over and tried to press several coins into her hand, but she wouldn’t take them.

  Her fate was decided in so many little movements. No matter what happened that day, she couldn’t come back. She was nothing but a burden to her aunt and uncle.

  She was halfway down the lane when the patter of footsteps sounded behind her. The familiar stride brought tears to her eyes.

  “Mei Lin, Mei Lin!” Little Cho grabbed on to her hand. “I’m going with you.”

  “What are you going to do in the wide world out there?”

  What was she going to do? She pushed the thought away.

  “I’m going to learn how to fight with swords,” the boy insisted.

  “But then who will take care of your mother and father?”

  His hand tightened willfully over hers. She could have shaken free and sent him back, but instead she straightened. Like her, Little Cho only became more stubborn when someone told him no.

  “All right, then. Do you need to say farewell?”

  He shook his head and wiped his sleeve over his nose. She started toward the edge of town. With each step, his feet dragged more and more. By the last row of buildings, he grew stiff and his small legs locked in place, refusing to go farther. He stared wide-eyed into the trees beyond and then looked up at her, blinking furiously.

  “We’ll see each other again someday,” she said gently.

  His hand slipped from hers and he turned around, running as he always did. With a deep breath, Mei Lin faced the woods. From the moment she’d refused Zhou’s demand, she’d taken her fate into her own hands. Shen Leung was out there. He expected her to stay behind while he faced her enemy, but she didn’t need his heroism. She needed him.

  Unlike Little Cho, her feet carried her forward without pause.

  * * *

  She found Shen Leung at the main juncture, standing perfectly still as he watched the road like a hawk. He was magnificent like that. Confident and impenetrable.

  He cast her a long look when she took his side and then returned to his vigil. He seemed almost meditative, while she could barely stay still. All she could think of was how their bodies had joined only hours earlier and that it was torture to be so close to him and not touch him.

  And it was so damn hot standing here.

  “You’re certain Zhou is coming this way?”

  “He’ll be here.” The muscle along his jaw tightened. “And then I’ll make sure he never threatens you again.”

  She knew he had some clandestine mission he’d been sent to do. Whatever it was, his work for the empire had to be more important than a quarrel between a spurned magistrate and a small town. It had to be more important than some silly, love-struck girl.

  “I don’t regret what happened between us,” she said.

  There was a pause. “I feel the same.”

  She didn’t tell him about what had happened back home. He probably assumed she could still return and wait for him until his travels brought him back.

  “When we fought yesterday, I knew you were unlike anyone I would ever meet again,” she said.

  “I’m honored, Mei Lin. I truly am.”

  She gripped the hilt of her sword to keep from slapping him. Did he always have to maintain such discipline? She longed to have him pressed over her again, all control gone as he lost himself inside her. These feelings couldn’t be hers alone. Yet he revealed nothing. Was this enduring silence a sign of strength among men?

  She considered telling him that she had thrown that fight all along. He might have something to say then.

  A covered palanquin appeared in the distance, hefted by four carriers and a small escort of two guardsmen. A curtain over the front shielded the occupant from view.

  “Are you sure you want to be involved in this?” he asked.

  “Don’t insult me. I’m already involved.”

  She caught the very corner of his mouth lifting. The litter continued its steady approach. Her heart welled with emotion as she watched Shen Leung in profile. So proud, righteous and humble.

  “So Shen Leung gets caught in local skirmishes and is praised as a hero through no fault of his own,” she teased. “Is that how it always happens?”

  His gaze lingered on her. “Nothing has ever happened like this.”

  Heat rose to her cheeks and she wanted nothing more than to remain by his side, even if she had to challenge him to another swordfight for the right. Even if she had to seduce her way into his heart. She was new to the mysteries of men and women, but she was a quick learner.

  The carriers halted before them with the palanquin balanced over their shoulders.

  “Who are you to block the road?” the guardsman called out.

  Shen Leung started to answer, but Mei Lin was there before him.

  “Come out, Zhou, and face your little wife,” she challenged.

  The term was used to refer to a man’s mistress, his kept woman. She advanced on the guardsmen before they could draw their weapons. She kicked the lead man in the groin and he fell back against the carriers. One end of the sedan toppled to the ground. The men stumbled as the wooden box shifted over their shoulders and the entire contraption crashed a moment later. The carriers shrank back when she started toward them.

  “Mei Lin, they’re unarmed,” Shen Leung admonished.

  The curtain swung open and Zhou’s eyes narrowed on her. “Demon girl,” he spat.

  “Dog spawn,” she retorted.

  She raised her sword and Zhou darted back inside. T
he curtain fluttered over the opening.

  Shen Leung came forward. “I have no quarrel with you,” he said to the servants. “You may flee with your lives.”

  Always so honorable. They listened to him and fled. The remaining guardsmen fell back when Shen unsheathed his sword.

  “It is your misfortune that you serve a dishonest master,” he said.

  These country louts had little in the way of formal training. In two strikes, he disarmed them and sent both of them running. Only Zhou remained, cowering inside the wooden sedan.

  Shen Leung turned to her and held out his sword. “Hold this for me.”

  “What makes you think I won’t kill Zhou myself?”

  He shot her a warning look and she lowered her weapons. The moment Shen Leung’s sword passed from his hand into hers, another bond formed between them.

  With a sweep of his arm, he tore aside the curtain and grabbed the shrinking official by the front of his robe.

  “Lord Zhou,” he greeted.

  “Unwashed barbarian. You’ll hang for this.” Zhou tried to claw himself free. She had never noticed how much he looked like a vulture before. A vulture squabbling for its life.

  “I will kill you with my bare hands if you ever threaten Lady Wu or her family again.”

  “That fox demon is no lady!”

  Shen dragged him close, until they were eye to eye. “Look at my face and remember it. I will kill you myself if you threaten her or her family,” he repeated. “My name is Shen Leung and I honor my promises. Now, I think you have a long way to walk home.”

  He released the man and Zhou shot her a glare before fleeing. His blue robe disappeared in the distance.

  She smiled as she returned the sword. “You can be impressive when you lose your temper.”

  “Like a common bully.”

  “Nothing of the sort.”

  He slid the weapon back into its sheath and held out his hand. Her heart beat faster, her mind full of questions as his fingers closed around hers. But he only meant to help her into the palanquin. The gesture was pleasantly chivalrous, but so much less than what she hoped he would offer.