by Jeannie Lin
“Dao.”
“Dao.” He said it to test the feel of it on his tongue.
“But I prefer An-Ming,” she insisted. “It’s so much grander.”
“Dao suits you.” His lips made a trail down to her shoulder. “Like a sweet, ripe—” he curled his palm over the lush shape of her breast “—summer peach.”
He nipped at the soft underside of it and she gasped.
“Scoundrel.”
“Why this new name for me suddenly?”
“Because a man changes after he has a woman,” she accused.
“How would you know? You haven’t had any men before me.”
“How do you know?” she challenged.
“I know.”
She had called him her first lover. First. She had already decided there would be another. He was like any man with his share of jealousy. He countered it by positioning himself between her knees and easing his length into her again. Her breath caught and she made a soft, startled sound as her body accepted him that told him all he needed to know. That she was his.
A man did change. He became ensnared, bewitched. A handful of days without her and his body had become impatient and greedy. He sank fully into her sooner than he meant to. His hips lifted and pushed forward slowly. He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers. Her breath grazed his cheek. Her nails dug into his shoulder as she throbbed around him.
“This is the last time we’ll be together,” she said once they had stilled.
Her tone was heavy, resolved. Sad. She ran her fingers lightly over his face, tracing the lines of it as if she were etching a picture of him in her mind. He tried to kiss her fingertips as they skimmed past, but the touch was too fleeting to catch.
He couldn’t reassure her when he wasn’t certain himself what would happen. Instead he hushed her again. His kiss was tender this time, trying to reach past her stubborn head into her heart. To the part that, for all her outward fierceness, was still abandoned and afraid.
He dreamed of more nights like this. Days as well, until the end of time. He had dreamed about turning the horses and riding west. Or even south back to the cities of the Tang Empire. Any place where he wouldn’t have to give her up. But running away would mean exile and isolation and that wasn’t what he wanted. Not for Dao or for himself.
Chapter Seven
A cluster of yurts came into view in the distance. As they approached, more dwellings appeared. This settlement was four times the size of the one Dao had visited in the southern region. A patrol of armed horsemen rode out to greet them. The men dismounted and bowed to Kwan-Li. One after another, they clasped his arms in greeting as if long lost brothers while she looked on in confusion. After the exchange, the riders climbed back into the saddle to escort them. With each step, she could feel Kwan-Li slipping further away.
Her entire purpose for coming to Khitan was to become an alliance bride. There was no place on this earth where they could be together. She couldn’t spend their last moments in regret.
At the border of the camp, Kwan-Li instructed her to dismount and reached out to steady her as she lowered herself to the ground. Dao took his hand, but he held on long after she had her footing. His fingers tightened over hers and he gave her a look so intense that her heart was in her throat.
“Is this proper?” she whispered. She had to be a princess again.
His only answer was a half smile before he let go.
Ruan came out to meet them. His grizzled face broke into a grin as he clasped Kwan-Li’s arms in greeting. The grin faded as he looked from Kwan-Li to Dao.
“Princess,” he said, with more seriousness than usual.
She looked about worriedly. “What of the others?”
She didn’t see the other tribesmen who had ridden with them, but Ruan laughed. “Good. Strong. We Khitans are tough,” he boasted.
Ruan switched to his native tongue to speak to Kwan-Li. The two men conferred briefly before Ruan left them.
“The Uyghur delegation is here,” Kwan-Li reported to her. “They arrived a few days ago. We are going to see the khagan now.”
His expression had become as guarded as it had been at the beginning of their journey when they had been strangers to each other. The sight of it sent a stab of panic through her. She wanted Kwan-Li back.
They walked toward the center of the camp. With each step, her stomach twisted. By the time she saw the large canvas tent surrounded by banners, she was so tangled up she couldn’t remember the greeting she had rehearsed. The speech had sounded so stately and grandiose a few months ago.
Dao had filled her head with ideas that this would be easy. She would be covered in jade and gold and no one would ever know that she was nothing but a floor sweeper. For the first time, she lamented that her ridiculously lavish procession had been left behind.
“Do I look like a princess?” she whispered frantically.
Kwan-Li’s gaze traced over her face. “Always.”
She didn’t feel like a princess. She was covered in dust and her hair was wind-battered and uncombed. They paused at the threshold of the yurt. The entrance flaps had been pulled wide and several grim-faced guards stood at the opening.
“Do you truly want to marry the khagan?” Kwan-Li asked softly.
“It doesn’t matter what I want.”
She wanted to be back in the endlessness of the steppe. With him.
As they entered the yurt, she could feel the circular wall enclosing her and trapping her. Each breath was forced and her tongue grew thick and useless. Her feet sank to the floor like lead.
The structure was large enough to encompass an assembly of thirty men, but there was only an elderly man inside flanked by two advisers. The khagan was seated upon an intricately woven rug. His headdress was decorated with several silver fox tails.
This was the man she was here to marry. His complexion was swarthy from a lifetime in the sun. There were crinkles at the corners of his eyes and creases around his mouth, but he wasn’t as fearsome or as old as she had thought.
She knelt at the edge of the rug facing him. Kwan-Li lowered himself between them to translate the conversation. The khagan was honored she had come. She was honored to be there. His land was vast and plentiful. Her empire was the greatest under the sun. How fortunate that the khagan would be blessed with two brides.
“Two brides?” Dao ranted.
“The khagan has already given his word that the Uyghur princess will be his first wife,” Kwan-Li explained gravely.
“Tell him he can’t catch fish with both hands!”
“I cannot tell him that.”
The khagan was looking at them with interest. Dao swallowed her retort. All their struggle and the khagan didn’t want to marry her. She knew what happened to secondary wives. They were used, cast aside, ignored. Apparently it was the same for servant girls or princesses. A women’s fate was decided by her husband.
“The khagan assures the princess that she will be treasured. That she will be given a position of respect which is her due—”
“In his harem.” Her blood boiled. “This is an insult.”
Kwan-Li’s eyes danced with light as he pressed his mouth tight. Was he trying not to laugh? Her future depended on this!
She wasn’t an underling anymore. She had power. For all they knew, she was a princess. A princess from the most powerful empire in the world.
“Tell him—” Dao grasped at the right words. How would A
n-Ming react? “Tell him he’s an old lecherous goat!” she raged.
The khagan’s eyes shot wide. Kwan-Li made a choking noise.
“Tell him I won’t have this,” she told Kwan-Li. “That the Emperor will be angry. That I am angry.”
It seemed Kwan-Li was spending his energy trying to calm her down rather than serve as interpreter. That upset her even more.
“I was shot at,” she complained directly to the khagan. “With arrows.”
The khagan said something to Kwan-Li in response, which she had to wait impatiently for him to relay to her.
“The khagan says he thought Han princesses were supposed to be elegant and graceful.”
“You are laughing,” she accused.
Kwan-Li’s gaze was warm. He all but caressed her with his eyes, making her heart flutter. She tried very hard to ignore it.
How could Kwan-Li be so calm? His demeanor was impenetrable.
“You tell him the Emperor’s niece is no lowly concubine,” she demanded. “Tell him now.”
Kwan-Li turned to the khagan and spoke with a sense of authority. Apparently he was well-spoken in any language. Whatever he was saying, it must have been very good because the khagan was nodding. Then a messenger came in. Whatever he had to say sent the two advisers into a whirlwind of chatter.
“What is it?” she asked beneath her breath. It was so difficult not being able to understand anything.
“The Uyghur princess is now outside demanding an audience,” Kwan-Li informed her.
“Tell him that if he marries her, I will take his fastest horse and ride back home.”
The khagan looked like he would rather be on his fastest horse, riding headlong into battle.
Kwan-Li presented the khagan with a stream of words that she was certain contained much more than a translation of her threat. The khagan made a weary gesture toward them at the end of the exchange. He appeared to have aged a few years.
Kwan-Li stood and ushered her to the side of the yurt. “The khagan has given me leave to explain the situation to the princess. I have proposed a compromise.”
“What compromise?”
“Another peace marriage. Not to the khagan, but to the Yelu chieftain’s son.”
“He wants to appease me with a marriage of inferior status—” She stopped as Kwan-Li’s eyes darkened. The earth shifted beneath her feet before settling again. “You’re the Yelu chieftain’s son.”
The pieces all came together. Kwan-Li would have to be a very valuable hostage to be sent to the imperial court to ensure peace. Despite his courteousness, he’d never acted like an underling. Throughout the entire journey, he had commanded everyone around them. The Khitans had deferred to him, but Dao assumed it was his affiliation with the Tang imperial court that gave him status. She, like all others in the Tang Empire, assumed the sun rose and set on their kingdom. She was a fool.
“You are blushing, Princess.”
She was more than blushing. Her face was on fire. Her mortification knew no bounds. When it came to diplomacy and politics, she was an ignorant peasant and he was practically a prince.
“But the alliance—”
Kwan-Li lowered his voice. “When you revealed you weren’t truly a princess, I realized how little the Emperor must value this alliance. As you can see here, it is also obvious the khagan would rather uphold relations with the Uyghurs than the Tang Empire.”
“So no one wants this marriage?” she asked skeptically.
“Apparently not, but no one can admit this. It would cause ill will.”
She made a face that was certainly not princesslike. “Diplomacy is complicated.”
“I did spend twelve years in the imperial court learning about it.” Kwan-Li smiled and she felt herself warm all the way down to her toes. He leaned close and his voice dropped low. “So I must ask again, what do you want, Princess? Will you accept an inferior marriage?”
His frown deepened as he waited for her reply. He looked so serious.
“If I must,” Dao replied. It was very, very difficult not to smile.
The khagan let out a sigh of relief when he heard the response. “Let this be done quickly,” he declared in roughly accented Han.
Kwan-Li held his hand to the small of her back as they were ushered outside.
“For a moment, you looked worried in there.” It was the first time she’d seen any break in his confidence, now that she thought of it.
“I spoke of politics and diplomacy, but the one thing I could not negotiate for was your heart.” He regarded her with an earnestness that touched her deeply. “You have always been so adamant about what you wanted, but I could never be certain whether you wanted me.”
Her throat tightened. Kwan-Li had given her the choice. Her. A lowly servant who was a lowly servant no more.
“I do,” she told him. “More than all the gold in the empire. But what would you have done if I had refused?”
“How cruel to even ask such a thing.” Kwan-Li straightened and glanced down at her. He was quite handsome when affronted. “I have been your slave ever since you insisted on falling off that horse.”
Her chest swelled with so much feeling that it was wonderful and painful all at once. She had loved him from the moment they stood together by the bonfire that very same night. She had been surrounded by strange music in a foreign land full of mystery, but she knew she would be safe as long as Kwan-Li was with her.
She reached out to him, lacing her fingers through his. “Once we’re married, will you still call me ‘Princess’?”
The corner of his mouth lifted. “Always.”
* * * * *
What happened to Dao’s sister? Read her story in My Fair Concubine by Jeannie Lin, available now from Harlequin Historical wherever ebooks are sold:
Yan Ling tries hard to be servile—it’s what’s expected of a girl of her class. Being intelligent and strong-minded, she finds it a constant battle.
Proud Fei Long is unimpressed by her spirit—until he realizes she’s the answer to his problems. He has to deliver the emperor a “princess.” In two months can he train a tea girl to pass as a noblewoman?
Yet it’s hard to teach good etiquette when all Fei Long wants to do is break it, by taking this tea girl for his own?.
And look for these other titles by Jeannie Lin on sale now:
Harlequin Historical
Butterfly Swords
The Dragon and the Pearl
Harlequin Historical Undone
The Taming of Mei Lin
The Lady’s Scandalous Night
Capturing the Silken Thief
About the Author
Jeannie Lin grew up fascinated with stories of Western epic fantasy and Eastern martial arts adventures. When her best friend introduced her to romance novels in middle school, the stage was set. Jeannie started writing her first romance while working as a high school science teacher in South Central Los Angeles. Her first two books have received starred reviews in Publishers Weekly and Library Journal and The Dragon and the Pearl was listed among Library Journal’s Best Romances of 2011.
You can visit Jeannie Lin online at http://www.jeannielin.com
Enjoy more passion through the ages with the sensual Harlequin Historical UNDONE titles on sale now:
What a Cowboy Wants by Lauri Robinson
How to Live Indecently by Bronwyn Scott
Taming the Highland Rogue by Te
rri Brisbin
A Pleasurable Shame by Linda Skye
To Rescue or Ravish? by Barbara Monajem
Flirting with Ruin by Marguerite Kaye
The Widow and the Rake by Lyn Stone
One Reckless Night by Helen Dickson
The Sheriff’s Last Gamble by Lauri Robinson
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ISBN: 978-14592-3892-3
An Illicit Temptation
Copyright © 2012 by Chi Nguyen-Rettig
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