by Jeannie Lin
“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 onto her hand. “I’m going with you.”
“What are you going to do out 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. The 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 dishon
est 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.
“Where are we going to go without any carriers?” she asked.
He climbed in beside her and, for a moment, she enjoyed the feel of being close to him, reclining in the shade upon silk pillows.
She ran a hand over the polished wood of the interior, stalling for more time. “I’ve never been inside a palanquin.”
“If only I could offer you wealth and privilege. Your feet would never have to touch the ground.”
“I don’t mind walking…beside you.” This was so hard. How could she confess everything she felt for him when he still hadn’t said anything? She took a deep breath and held it. She might be holding her breath forever given how taciturn he could be.
“I didn’t expect any of this,” he began, finally. “I want you more than anything. When I’m around you, I can barely think.”
“I want you, too.”
“I have nothing to offer you.”
He was so hardheaded! “Don’t you dare apologize,” she warned. “I’ll kill you if you do. And then I’ll shave my head and join a convent and never think of you again.”
Shen Leung was just sitting there. Not holding her, not kissing her, not whispering heatedly to her and declaring his devotion. All he could think of was objections when her heart was so full she thought it would burst.
“Shave all that beautiful hair?” he asked finally.
When she dared to look at him, he was grinning. She scowled at him.
“That’s a pretty face.” He was laughing now.
“You waited long enough to say something.”
“You don’t already know?” He leaned close so that his mouth grazed her earlobe. “Every time I touch you, it’s a promise.” His mouth explored a sensitive spot on her neck, sending a shiver through her that curled her toes. “And I always keep my promises.”
He twined his fingers around hers and she had never felt so safe, so secure. She was beginning to see who Shen Leung was; a man who was endlessly loyal. He made his decisions with the same quiet strength that he projected, and he held onto them. She would never have to doubt him.
“Wherever you’re going, I’m going with you,” she insisted. “I won’t stay behind and wait for you while you risk your life for the empire.”
“You can protect me with your butterfly swords.”
He kissed her gently, turning her to draw her into his arms. Her skin warmed to him. This was where she belonged. He tugged at the curtain so they were hidden inside the palanquin.
“But we’re on the road,” she protested.
“I told you, you make me forget myself.” He smiled wickedly and pulled her onto his lap. “Stop fighting me, Mei Lin.”
She settled onto him, all protest gone. His thighs were hard beneath her. Another part of him grew even harder as she circled her hips. It was wonderful being able to watch him like this, close enough to see every muscle along his jaw clench with desire.
His mouth found hers. His hands slipped inside her tunic and pushed the cloth aside.
“I must get you to a proper bed.” His skilled touch smoothed over her shoulders and the soft skin of her breasts. “Someday,” he amended, breathing hard.
He wrapped his arms tight around her to pull her nipple to his mouth. His tongue licked over her, slightly rough on her skin. She gasped and her body grew damp. He switched to the other one and soon she was writhing and clinging to him, no longer caring where they were. Only that they were together.
He lifted her momentarily and his clever hands worked between them, pushing their clothes aside. She undid his shirt and ran her hands greedily over the packed muscle of his chest. One day she would get to see him, every powerful inch of him. She couldn’t wait.
“This morning, you came back on your own didn’t you?”
“Of course. I bested you in that swordfight.”
“There’s something I should tell you about that.”
“Hmm?” Shen Leung took hold of her hips and eased her down onto him in a single smooth, powerful glide. He thrust upward and her vision blurred.
“I’ll—” Her body tightened around him as he moved inside her. “I’ll tell you later.”
“Those were the terms, were they not?” He was watching her with such intensity, possessing her with each loving stroke. For the first time, he looked smug. “You belong to me, Mei Lin.”
His voice sounded far away as the pleasure built between them.
“Yes,” she sighed happily. “Completely yours.”
She arched her neck back and hid her smile.
If you liked this story, look for BUTTERFLY SWORDS by Jeannie Lin from Harlequin Historicals. Turn the page for to read a preview….
Butterfly Swords Preview
758 AD China—Tang Dynasty
The palanquin dipped sharply and Ai Li had to brace her hands against the sides to stay upright. Amidst the startled cries of her attendants, the enclosure lurched again before crashing to the ground with the splintering crack of wood. She gasped as the elaborate headdress toppled from her lap and she was thrown from her seat. A tight knot formed in her stomach, and she fought to stay calm.
What she heard next was unmistakable. The clash of metal upon metal just beyond the curtain that covered the wedding sedan. Sword-strike, a sound she woke up to every morning. With her heart pounding, she struggled to free herself from the tangle of red silk about her ankles. This skirt, the entire dress, was so heavy, laden with jewels and a hundred li of embroidery thread.
She fumbled behind the padded cushions of her seat, searching frantically for her swords. She had put them there herself, needing some reminder of home, the way another girl might find comfort in her childhood doll.
Her hand finally closed around the hilt. She tightened her grip to stop from shaking. From outside, the sounds of fighting grew closer. She ignored the inner voice that told her this was madness and pulled the swords free. The short blades barely fit in the cramped space. She had no time for doubt, not when so much was at risk. With the tip of one sword, she pushed the curtain aside.
A stream of sunlight blinded her momentarily. The servants scattered like a flock of cranes around her, all posts abandoned. Squinting, she focused on the hulking
figure that blocked the entrance and raised her blades in defence.
A familiar voice cried out then, ‘Gngzh!’
Old Wu, the elder lieutenant, rushed to her while she faced the stranger. Her armed escort struggled against a band of attackers. In the confusion, she couldn’t tell who was who.
Wu pulled her behind the cover of the palanquin. The creases around his eyes deepened. ‘Gngzh, you must go now.’
‘With them?’
She stared at the thugs surrounding her. Wu had been a bit too successful at finding men to pose as bandits.
‘There are clothes, money.’
Wu spoke the instructions and the head ‘bandit’ grabbed on to her arm. Instinctively, she dug in her heels to resist him. Everything was unfolding so quickly, but she had known there would be no turning back.
The stranger relaxed his grip, but did not release her. An act, she reminded herself, fighting the panic constricting her chest.
‘There is no more time,’ Wu pleaded.
‘Your loyalty will not be forgotten.’
She let herself be pulled through the trees, stumbling to keep up with the ragged band. Who were these men Old Wu had enlisted? When she looked back, he was standing beside the toppled sedan, his shoulders sagging as if he carried a sack of stones. The secret he’d revealed to her two days ago weighed heavily on her as well. Ai Li hoped that she could trust him.
God’s teeth, the scent of cooking rice had never smelled so sweet. Ryam’s stomach clenched as he stared across the dirt road. An open-air tavern stood empty save for the cook stirring an iron pot over the fire. The establishment was little more than a hut propped up in a clearing: four beams supporting a straw-thatched roof. Bare wooden benches offered weary travelers a place to rest between towns and partake of food and drink.
Travellers with coin, of course. The only metal Ryam had touched in months was the steel of his sword. He was nearly hungry enough to eat that.
The proprietor perched at the entrance, whip-thin and wily in his black robe as he stared down the vacant trail. Nothing but wooded thickets in either direction. A single dirt road cut through the brush, leading to the stand.
