While Kassian wasn’t her target, he did stand between her and her goal, making him one thing—collateral damage. She’d fight tooth and nail to get back to that meeting. To receive the gift she had every right to claim.
How dare he interfere?
Struggling against his strength was getting her nowhere, so she did as he asked. Relaxing her muscles, she went limp. Her gaze landed on the side table a few feet from her. Perfect.
He released her. “Thank y—”
She jabbed her elbow into his nose, then lunged for the glass bottle of sparkling water on the table. Wrapping her hand around the neck, she spun and cracked the bottle against his skull.
The glass thwacked his head with a deafening thud.
Kassian didn’t crash to the ground unconscious, like she’d hoped. Instead, fury burned deep in his darkened eyes, his nostrils flared, and he folded his hand over hers, still holding the bottle to his head.
Oh, crap. The spirit of the Ox flickered over Kassian, and if the animal cloaked him again, there’d be no escape for her. She could handle any human opponent, but Kassian wasn’t human. The warrior spirit inside him made him something more.
A nearly invincible force not even a Lotus could best…in a fair fight. Good thing Lotus were trained to fight dirty. It would take every trick she’d mastered to make it out of here.
With painstaking deliberateness, he lifted the bottle from her grasp while maintaining a death grip on her hand. His fuming glower never parting from hers, he flung the bottle at the door, shattering it into a thousand sharp, menacing splinters coated in bubbly water.
She cringed, easing her lashes up to regard him. A tic worked the tightened muscle of his jaw. Rage and betrayal swirled in his tense scowl.
She swallowed hard against the sudden dryness in her throat.
He lifted their hands and backed her to the wall, their bodies converging. With unblinking steadfastness, he stared into her eyes and pinned her wrists level with her head.
His chest rose and fell as though he struggled with whatever he wanted to say. “If I had any intention of trusting you, you blew your shot.”
The words were low, cold. Everything she deserved. It didn’t make it hurt less, though. She bit her lip, searching for any reasoning that might convince him to release her. If hosting the Snake meant spending an eternity with Kassian scowling at her, did she still desire the spirit?
Hell, yeah. The image of Mali’s small, cold hand flashed in her mind. Whatever Nat had to endure, she would. She’d failed Mali once and would never rest until she’d avenged that little girl.
She met his gaze straight on. “I don’t care about your trust. Release me.”
A slight shake of his head. “You don’t want the Snake, Nat. Not the Snake.”
Her indignation lessened. The concern in his pained tone and the furrow in his forehead were almost…endearing. Kassian believed he was protecting the seventeen-year-old girl who couldn’t even stand up to her own father.
“Yes, I do, Kassian.” She sighed. “I need this.”
His grip relaxed. He eased some of his weight off her while keeping her wrists pinned to the wall. “Listen to me. Let me explain what you’re getting yourself into.”
She tilted her chin up. “I already know.”
Kassian swallowed hard. Was he wrong about her, about the Snake? Sure as hell didn’t feel wrong. The blaze of tenacity in Nat’s eyes had never been there before. Hell, the girl he’d known had made him purge her bathroom of spiders. She’d never failed to exercise a vise-like grasp around him on the rollercoasters he’d dared her to ride. Fuck, she’d made him walk first into every cave they’d explored.
Yeah, he didn’t buy this whole tough-girl act. Sure, she’d learned a few moves. Probably took a self-defense class. That didn’t make her a seasoned warrior capable of dealing with an ancient spirit who was, at best, mischievous and, at worst, well, evil.
The spirit of the Snake was inside Lucy, Sheng’s woman. Before that? A bastard named Zhao had hosted the spirit, and he’d committed heinous acts using its powers.
There was no missing the worried glances Sheng sent Lucy’s way or the increasing pallor of her features. Sheng seemed determined to get the spirit the hell out of Lucy as soon as possible.
Kassian vowed to be as stubbornly opposed to sending Snake into Nat.
Even so, guilt ate at him. They needed the Snake. Lucy also hosted the Rabbit, but she couldn’t cloak two spirits at once. The bigger their numbers, the greater chance they stood against the evil forces gathering against them. Tasked with restoring balance to the world, the Chosen were the guardians standing between peace and total chaos. They alone held the power to balance the forces of yin and yang.
He was torn. The fate of the world…or Nat’s. As desperate as the Chosen were, he refused to involve Nat in their war.
“No, you really don’t know. Despite whatever rainbow-encrusted fluff the Matchmaker fed you, you’ve gotta trust me. You don’t want this spirit.”
She moistened her lips with a soft flick of her tongue. His cock jerked in response. Dammit, not now. Her slender hands beneath his were small, delicate. Fragile. He’d seen her broken before and refused to watch her break again. He might never forgive her for their past, but neither would he allow her to ruin her future.
Six years ago, he and Nat had been closer than friends, his heart teetering on the edge of love. The night before she’d flown home, he’d acted on impulse, stealing a kiss. The next day, she’d rejected his sorry ass with nothing more than a fucking text.
Don’t try to find me. Don’t try to contact me. I never want to see you again.
He flinched as the words stabbed into his brain. With precise movements, he released Nat’s hands, scrutinizing her for any signs of tensing. When she didn’t, he blew out a breath of relief and stepped to the side. She lowered her arms and rubbed both her wrists.
“Sorry. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” Crap. Sometimes, he forgot his strength. He held out his hand for hers, but then she did it again.
She fucking tensed.
“Bloody hell,” he boomed as Nat darted to the left, toward the balcony on the far side of the living room. Instead of chasing her, he strode to his closet and rummaged around until he dug out a set of handcuffs.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Her frustrated grunt came from the opposite side of the flat.
He side-stepped toward Nat, blocking her sole possible exit—the door.
The balcony access was bolted shut better than a maximum security prison. He lifted his hand and pointed to his finger pads, then to the scanner next to the balcony door.
“Seriously? A little paranoid, aren’t you?” She planted her hands on her hips and glared at him until her eyes widened at the sight of the handcuffs. “Uh-uhn. No way.” She protested while he pressed forward.
“We’re at a stalemate, so you’re going to put these on.”
She arched her brow. “Just like that, you expect me to surrender?”
He casually raised and dropped a shoulder. “You can deal with me or Ox. Your choice.”
He had to give her credit. She’d learned to hide her emotions well. The only hint of her unease was the thin pressing of her lips.
Wariness flickered in her eyes as he approached with the cuffs. He lingered a second too long on her slender wrist before slapping the first one on, if the parting of her lips was any indication.
“Are you trying to seduce me?”
The blunt question zapped through him, reminding him of the task at hand.
If only… If only she knew. He wasn’t into kinky stuff or any stuff. Not anymore, at least. She’d known him as a player, so he forgave her jumping to the wrong conclusion. His mouth quirked, and he cocked his head at her. “If by ‘seduce,’ you mean toss you on the next plane out of KL, then yes.”
Her elegant, small nose scrunched. “I’m not leaving.”
“We’ll see about that. Tomorrow, I’m putting you on a
plane. Tonight, you’re staying here, where I can keep both eyes on you.” He didn’t bother cuffing her other wrist as he half-dragged her toward the bathroom. “I need to shower. Since we’ve established I can’t trust you to behave, you’re coming with me.”
“I’m not going in there with you.”
Yeah, she would. Her resisting footsteps were no match against his strength. He was hot and sweaty from chasing her around and more than a little in need of a cold shower. He’d be damned if he pointed out the other reason, though.
***
Nat huffed and planted her feet against Kassian’s steel grip. “I don’t think so, mate.”
Yet, with a slight tug of his wrist, Kassian manhandled her to the shower and latched the other manacle around the curtain rod. Well, at least he hadn’t stuck her beside the toilet. Damn him. While her feminine instincts appreciated the macho act, she was not the damsel in distress.
She was the hero.
“Look, I get it, but you don’t know who I am or, rather, what I am.” She jiggled the manacle against the rod, but it was securely bolted, and she wasn’t ready to give up her hidden resources yet. Frustrated, she blew the hair off her face. “I’m not some helpless girl anymore. I rescue the innocent, protect the weak, and fight against evil. All by my little self. Imagine that.”
“You done inflating your ego?” he teased from over his shoulder as he unbuttoned his dress shirt and slid it off those broad, muscled shoulders.
He didn’t intend to bare it all in front of her, did he?
Her throat suddenly became parched. What the hell was wrong with her that she’d love to watch him undress?
She gave another resentful yank against the curtain rod. It didn’t budge. “Damn you, Kassian. I’m a Lotus.”
He spun around, took one long step toward her, and stared her down. “Why?”
She sucked in a breath at his low tone. That might be one word, but it contained a thousand questions. None of which she could answer. She gazed into his eyes, unblinking. “You might be a Lotus, but you’ll never be a Chosen.” After declaring his cold threat, he twisted back around.
“When you’re ready, please do enlighten me as to what the hell your problem is, other than the obvious, of course. You arrogant, stubborn, overbearing ass—”
The word stuck on her tongue, sizzling out like a dying match as Kassian tugged down his pants. No boxer-briefs for him. Commando all the way. Those glutes could pose for any men’s athletic magazine. Damn, he had a great ass. Round, firm, well-defined muscles gave way to thick, powerful thighs. If the back of him looked this good… Nope, don’t go there.
He didn’t pause long enough for her to snap a decent mental picture as he stepped beneath the spray. The sheer ivory curtain didn’t hide as much as it should have. Nat squeezed her eyes shut and averted her face. No sense in musing over temptations that had no business being entertained.
A minute after the hum of the water switched off, she cracked open one eye. Kassian had dried off and wrapped a towel around his waist, the white linen resting low on those lean hips, accenting the deep sculpting of his obliques and rock-hard eight-pack.
She dragged her appreciation to his face, where his confident smirk—highlighting his damned dimple—flashed at her.
“Your turn.” His raised eyebrow questioned, but his eyes… Oh, they practically begged. Was it her imagination or did the bulge on the front of his towel expand?
She licked her lips. Seduction was a talent every Lotus mastered. Nat was no exception. If she couldn’t reason with Kassian, she’d employ her other skills of negotiation.
She shook out her hair. “Sure, I’d love to get wet.” His eyes darkened a degree, and a slight hesitation marked his steps as he approached and unlocked the handcuff. Withdrawing from her, he blocked the doorway with his large body, unaware her plan was no longer to escape this apartment, but to lay siege to him.
He folded his arms across those massive pecs and stared at the bathroom tiles. Like she’d be shy or something. Modesty was the first quality the Matchmaker’s intensive training program had rid her of.
She’d paraded about nude in front of more men than she cared to count. “Can you unzip me, please?” His head jerked up as she spun to give him her back. She lifted her hair in one hand. His rough, calloused fingers paused a second too long on the curve of her neck. Just as his hand had on her wrist earlier.
Would they pick up where they’d left off? The last time she’d been with Kassian, he’d kissed her. Our first and only kiss. Still, flutters of nervous energy swarmed her stomach just as they had back then. She’d deserted him at the worst time. If they hadn’t kissed, would he be so angry? So unreasonable?
The next morning, she’d gone back home…to a real-life nightmare. With one horrendous act, her world had flipped upside down. The Matchmaker had arrived in time to save Nat, mostly. On her doorstep, she’d presented Nat with the decision that had shaped her destiny.
Her one stipulation? Nat had to leave everyone behind. Including Kassian.
The terror of that morning fresh in her mind, she’d made her choice. The right choice—eliminating their future together. Despite her feelings toward Kassian, or maybe because of them, she’d known then that she couldn’t do this, not with him. Not to him. A wife, a mother, a happily ever after wasn’t in her destiny.
The new path the Matchmaker laid out before her that morning had been the perfect escape…
Undressing in front of him now, she had no words to explain any of her past to Kassian.
He unzipped her dress and she eased it down her shoulders, letting the silk pool around her feet. Kassian hissed in a breath.
Oh yeah. She hadn’t worn any undergarments, either.
***
Kassian trailed his fingertips down Nat’s waist, over the curve of her hip, bent and untied the Chinese fan she’d lashed to her upper thigh. Her skin was soft. So soft. Fuck. “Let me guess. That’s not just an accessory?”
She winked at him over her shoulder. He flicked open the fan. The razor-sharp bladed edge glinted. He snapped it shut and tucked it into the back of his towel. “I’ll be confiscating this.”
She lifted and dropped her shoulder, then sashayed into the tub. Kassian had called the wrong damn bluff. The shy, uncertain girl? No trace of her remained.
The Matchmaker really had molded Nat into a Lotus.
He couldn’t fucking take his eyes off her. Swallowing against the thickness building in his throat, he didn’t even bother calming his aching hard-on.
Her awkward, teenage figure had blossomed full-force into a woman’s body. Slender shoulders and a sculpted back that arced inward at her waist and flared back out at her hips gave her a perfect hourglass figure.
By the gods, her ass. He’d love to grip the contours of her supple flesh while he drove inside her. He fisted his hands at his sides, but doing so didn’t help. His gaze got stuck on the narrow gap between her toned thighs. As she swayed her hips, he caught sight of her pretty, pink pussy taunting him.
His jaw ached from grinding his teeth so tight.
Nat sighed under the spray as though she hadn’t a care in the world.
Did she always shower in front of men? A sudden bolt of jealousy speared beneath his skin. Was this what the Matchmaker had taught her to be? His normally steady composure snapped. Ripping his focus off her, he heaved a steadying breath. She was playing him. Just as she had a thousand other men.
Because that was what she had become. One of the Matchmaker’s seductresses, if he used the nice term.
Shaking his head, he stared into the mirror. He forced his hands to lather his cheeks with shaving cream and snatch up the razor. The blunt blade scraped his skin, burning an edge of reason into him.
Three damn years, he’d not looked at a woman. With Nat? He’d almost fallen into her black widow’s web. Lotus League, my ass. He rinsed his face with ice cold water. Even if he’d been interested, this was Nat. His childhood friend, and his gr
eatest grudge.
She hummed the tune to a popular song on the radio. A smile tugged at his lips, but he’d be damned if he peeked. Her games were over. She’d lost.
If he excelled at one thing, it was control. Having spent years doing penance for the recklessness he’d indulged in, he wasn’t about to step into that shit pile again.
Nat switched off the water. Making sure to keep his gaze at eye-level, he offered her a towel. As she knotted it around her torso, a patch of pale skin caught his eye. He peered closer and then jerked back. “That’s a bullet wound.”
“Really? I hadn’t noticed.”
He clenched his jaw at her dry tone. How could she act so casual? “Who shot you?”
She pressed her lips together at his demand, clearly not willing to elaborate. Fine. He handed her one of his shirts from the bathroom closet and gave her his back while she toweled off.
Nat cleared her throat.
He spun around. She braced her hands on her hips, her small body engulfed in his large shirt. The hem grazed the middle of her thighs and, with her hands positioned like that, her hardened nipples taunted him through the taut white fabric.
He dragged his gaze to hers. “Nice try.” He leaned in and droned against her ear. “I’m afraid, while you’ve been well-trained, your tricks won’t work on me. I’m not interested in women.”
The sputter on her lips was priceless. He smirked while she gaped at him with wide eyes, which narrowed and focused downward on his nether region.
“Are you sure?”
Oh, she had noticed. Suddenly, clarifying his vow of abstinence felt akin to castrating himself. He raked one hand through his damp hair, spiking the locks. “Don’t flatter yourself. It wasn’t for you.” He tilted his hips away from her. He might be able to explain away one erection, but not two.
Closing his eyes for a moment, he eased his mind into a place of meditation. The technique worked, as it always did. His cock shrank back into submission. His muscles relaxed. If he could get through the next few hours…
“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize you were gay.”
By the Horns Page 2
