Burning Tigress (2 page)

Michael Reed Gach, Ph.D.

Chapter 1

September 10, 1898

Shanghai, China

Charlotte Wicks dashed down the third-floor hallway after her younger brother. Unfortunately, at sixteen William was much too fast to catch, and with a mental age of about seven he was much too strong-willed to listen.

"William!" she called again as she spun into their Chinese servant's room. She skidded to an abrupt stop as she took in the sight before her.

What a large penis!
That's all that she could think.
Ken Jin has an immense penis.
She made a valiant attempt to divert her thoughts. Why, for example, was Ken Jin kneeling half naked on the floor in the middle of the afternoon? Why were three very large needles embedded in the flesh right above his very large organ? And why couldn't she look up into the man's face?

She didn't ask any of these questions, of course: All were completely inappropriate. Despite the debauchery that ran rampant in Shanghai—and in this very house sometimes—Charlotte wasn't supposed to know about men's organs or what they did with them. Or that Ken Jin had entertained a good number of her friends with his
very large penis.

Her brother, of course, had no such restraint. "Mama says not to touch that," he said loudly and pointed at Ken's Jin's dark red erection. "She says you'll go to Hell and burn for eternity with the devil." He frowned. "But she didn't say anything about needles."

Ken Jin didn't respond, except to leap to his feet and hastily drag up his pants. That successfully hid the view, but it probably also drove the needles even deeper into his flesh.

"My goodness," Charlotte breathed, "doesn't that hurt?" She blinked, startled by her own stupid comment. Of course it hurt. Taking hold of her curiosity and her errant brother, she made herself turn away from the blushing Chinaman. Then she addressed her gangly, adolescent sibling.

"You cannot go bursting into people's chambers, William, even if it's a servant's room. It's simply not fair." And who knew what one might see? she added silently. "Come along now. We'll let Ken Jin collect himself and ask him politely to visit us in the library, shall we?"

She tried to lead her brother out, but the boy had been growing again and was larger than she. When William didn't want to leave, she couldn't force him; and right now, William would not be distracted from their father's Chinese First Boy. Truth be told, Charlotte was also intrigued by the handsome young Chinaman. He was desperately intelligent, running her father's extensive business dealings single-handedly while keeping her debauched father and religious mother in opposite corners of the city. With his help, Charlotte was able to keep the house servants in line and manage her rather unusual younger brother. Plus, every one of her friends had commented on how very handsome and skilled he was in a variety of bedroom arts. She couldn't vouch for the latter, of course, but she could attest to his looks.

Ken Jin was tall and muscular, of twenty-eight or twenty-nine years, and had lush black hair pulled back into the most perfect queue. His face was nicely formed, his shoulders were broad, and he had a generous... Well, all his physical attributes were built along generous lines. Still, she had no idea that Chinese men—even young healthy ones—were so largely endowed. Or perhaps, she was simply uninformed. After all, her only real experience with men's organs came from assisting her brother with his bath. Perhaps Ken Jin was normal and her brother abnormal. It would stand to reason.

"You shouldn't scratch there either," William said loudly, doing just that. "It makes it worse."

Ken Jin nodded formally to Charlotte's brother. With his trousers back in place, the only indications of anything untoward were the dark flush to his cheeks and the expanding circle of crimson on his tented pants.

"One of your needles has drawn blood," she said, once again proving that she was an utter failure at keeping her attention fixed where it ought to be—on her brother and not on the bleeding servant. So she tried again. "Come along, William. Ken Jin will join us in the library." Assuming he didn't bleed to death first.

"But Nanny said he would take us to the park," William wheedled.

Charlotte nodded. "Yes, yes, of course, dearling, but the park is outside, you know, and we can't get there by staying here."

William blinked in his uncomprehending way, then abruptly turned back to Ken Jin. "Why do you have needles in your stomach?" he asked.

Charlotte sighed. Sometimes her brother could fixate on the most inappropriate topics. It didn't help matters that she was desperately curious to know the answer as well.

Ken Jin bowed again, no doubt driving the needles deeper. "It is a form of medicine, Master Will," he responded in his low, smooth voice.

"Yes, William," Charlotte agreed. "A Chinese form of medicine. Now let us—"

"I want to see," William interrupted. Then, to her horror, her nearly six-foot-tall brother lumbered forward, his hands going for Ken Jin's pants.

"That is quite enough!" Charlotte cried in her best disciplinarian voice. William stopped his advance, thank God. "Into the library, young man. Now!"

Another long moment went by as the boy hovered, obviously undecided. Then Ken Jin spoke, his manner extremely pleasant. "I should be happy to take you to the park, Master William, but you must let me don the appropriate shoes."

Charlotte's brother frowned at Ken Jin's bare feet. They were nice feet, Charlotte noticed, and wasn't that an odd thing to think about a servant's feet? But they
were
nice: The skin was smooth and not hairy, the toes long and well shaped. They were masculine without being a coolie's hoary feet.

"All right," William finally said, spinning on his heel and abruptly dashing out of the room. Charlotte felt her lips curve into a soft smile. Truly, her brother was a sweet boy even if he was sixteen and slow.

She turned back to Ken Jin. "Thank you for your assistance—"

"My shoes," he interrupted, his voice uncharacteristically tight. "Please, Miss Charlotte, let me put on my shoes."

She frowned, abruptly realizing that she wasn't looking at his feet but at the dark bloodstains on his pants. There were three circles now, exactly above the three needles, and the tenting fabric wasn't quite so pronounced.

"Miss Charlotte?"

"Shoes. Yes, of course," she babbled. "I'll see you in the library, then?" She didn't know why she was lingering. She couldn't truly ask Ken Jin why he had stuck needles into his... She ought to be going. And yet...

"Ken Jin..."

The muscles of his jaw bulged as he clenched his teeth. "Yes, Miss Charlotte?"

"Do you require any bandages or salves?"

"No, Miss Charlotte."

She swallowed. Of course he didn't. Ken Jin was the most self-sufficient man she'd ever met. "Well then," she snapped, abruptly bringing her thoughts back to order. "I shall just wait for you in the library. After you... um..."

"After I don my shoes, Miss Charlotte."

"Yes. Your shoes." And with that, she spun around and fled.

* * *

Ken Jin waited an eternity for the door to close. When it at last clicked shut behind Miss Charlotte, he hurried to unbuttoned his pants, wincing as he saw how deep the acupuncture needles had pushed. Digging them out was going to burn like hot coals. On the other hand, his dragon thrust forward like a proud beast. Perhaps he had just been too careful in his stimulation before. Perhaps Miss Charlotte's interruption had been fortunate in that it forced him to stab the needles deep into his Sea of Vitality, thereby finally awakening his slumbering yang fires. That was possible, he supposed. He had no other explanation for the return of his suddenly rearing dragon.

A noise came from down the hallway, and Ken Jin applied himself to gently removing the deepest needle, the one planted firmly in the Gate of Origin. The young master was probably becoming impatient. And the young miss...

His dragon twitched in interest, the yang fire clearly strengthening, though indiscriminate in its tastes. Ken Jin didn't care. At least there was interest. At least he wasn't completely depleted, as he'd feared.

It had been unwise to perform his exercises in the middle of the day. He had taken the precaution of returning to his own bedchamber, but he'd known the young master had no respect for closed doors—and at sixteen, the child had the strength and speed to outrun his maid and sister. Yet, Ken Jin could not quarrel with the result. Even as he drew out the last of the needles, his yang surged hot and full, his dragon a strong organ once again. It had been over a year now since his dragon had shown such vigor.

He smiled in pleasure despite the knowledge that his new vitality would create more problems. The overly curious Miss Charlotte was going to plague him with oblique questions and veiled stares.

His dragon reared again. Clearly it enjoyed female attention no matter the source. Fortunately, his self-discipline was more than adequate. His employer's daughter would be no more a lure to him than any other grasping, overblown, white woman. Or so he told himself.

Reaching for a change of clothes, he chose the loosest of his white-man trousers. Truthfully, he missed his boyhood coolie pants held up by a rope. A man could do anything in those pants. It was as close to being naked as one could get in public.

But he was a rich First Boy now, a reflection of his employer's status and wealth. Certain things were expected. He slid his pants over his vitals, closing his eyes to appreciate the expanding yang heat as fabric caressed skin. In his mind's eye, he saw the blond miss as she'd burst in on him. Her blue eyes had widened with shock, her skin had flushed, and her lips had reddened... Truly, she was a woman of strong yin.

She had no idea, of course. Though he no longer thought the whites as insubstantial ghost people, he knew they understood nothing of their own passions. The men expressed their lusts without restraint, while the women bottled them up until the yin river dried to dust. Unless, of course, they chose the path of a "slut." He had indeed harvested a great deal of yin from Charlotte's more exploratory friends.

Once when he'd first laid eyes on Miss Charlotte, he had been nearly overcome by the need to stroke her yin fountain to its fullest glory. But he had been busy angling for the position of the family's First Boy while half carrying her drunken father across the threshold. Debauching the daughter of the household would not have helped his cause. Still, the temptation lingered, especially as the girl matured into a frustrated, lonely woman prone to her own fits of impulsive desires.

Sadly, he could not help her. If he lost his job, his entire family would starve. He sighed, already mourning the day when Miss Charlotte lost her dewy spring. She was twenty-five now, and her eventual withering was not long off, especially if her mother had anything to say about it. But such was the way with pure white women, and he did not have the time to teach an entire barbarian race the truth about their energies.

He glanced at the clock on his desk. He had little time to take Master William to the park. Fortunately, they were between shipments. There was no cargo for him to supervise, no inventories to examine. Charlotte's father was at his favorite whorehouse, and her mother at her prayers. All that demanded his attention was the regular correspondence that came with a white man's empire in China. That, and the work required to keep his flagging qi strong.