Taming of Mei Lin (2 page)

“Take your bride,” Wang said. “From your battle we can see the wedding night will be quite an adventure.”

His cronies hooted with laughter. She considered blackening both of Wang’s eyes and perhaps breaking his nose as well.

“Don’t be ridiculous, Brother Wang.” Shen Leung looked embarrassed when he glanced back at her. “There will be no wedding.”

Her chest squeezed tight. Heat rushed up her neck and flooded her face while he bowed once more. The noble swordsman didn’t want her.

“Thank you for the match. Lady Wu is a formidable opponent.” He turned to leave. The cronies chanted their congratulations and ushered him toward the tavern to celebrate.

Mei Lin was left alone, her sword fallen in the dust. The curious eyes of the townspeople bore into her while the cruel sun beat down upon her back.

Shen Leung extracted himself from the tavern to taunting and cries of “One more round!” The chorus finally faded by the time he made his way to the shed behind merchant Wang’s house. The storage area had been cleared and swept so that a cot could be laid out to serve as a bed. He unclasped his sword belt and managed to shrug out of his tunic before sinking onto the cot.

Among the many cities and villages he’d passed through, this place was truly remarkable. The people were generous, the wine strong. And the woman…

He closed his eyes and she was there. Mei Lin. Pretty, pretty Mei Lin and her deadly butterfly swords. The noodle shop wouldn’t be open this late, otherwise he’d go there now and spend what little coin he had even though he wasn’t hungry.

He’d stolen glances from the tavern to search the stand throughout the evening, but she’d never returned. There had been such a quiet sorrow about her after the duel was finished. He’d felt the echo of it inside him. Every time he tried to make an excuse to leave, he’d been dragged back by well-wishers demanding stories of his travels.

Perhaps there would be time in the morning. He’d visit the stand before he left and she’d be there in the sunlight, as beguiling as she’d been when he’d first seen her. She had such delightful skin. The women of these southern regions were so soft and curved and feminine. So different from the harsh northern steppes. He pulled the quilt over his shoulders and prepared to dream.

With a sharp crack, the door flew open. He jerked awake and sat up so fast that the world tilted. A wash of moonlight highlighted the form in the doorway. He’d know that silhouette anywhere. That slender waist and graceful neck. His eyes had already committed Mei Lin to memory.

“Shen Leung.”

Tentatively she stepped forward. Her hair was pulled up into a simple knot and her skin glowed in the pale light. Elegant. Sweet. Tempting.

She blinked at him, then glanced away. The blanket had slipped from his shoulders and the stir of the air against his skin reminded him that he was half-naked before this maiden. Blood gathered in his loins alarmingly.

“Mei Lin?” His voice came out thick and huskier than he had expected.

Her mouth pressed tight. It was then that he noticed the glint of the butterfly sword in her hand.

“Shen Leung, you are going to die tonight.”

She lunged at him and his pulse jumped, survival instinct taking over. He flung his quilt at her and she stumbled, temporarily blinded. He scrambled for his sword. Mei Lin was pinpoint precise with those blades and she might be aiming for something lower than his heart.

Her knee struck the edge of the cot and she struggled to regain balance. She ended up sprawled over his thighs and the wooden frame cracked beneath him. They crashed to the ground in a heap of arms and legs.

The shattered fragments of the cot dug into his back as he tried to catch his breath. The sword fell from her grasp, but that didn’t stop Mei Lin. Her elbow struck his ribs when she reached for his throat. She didn’t feel nearly as soft as she looked.

“Bastard!”

He caught her wrists. “Lady Wu—”

“Don’t you talk to me.”

Her knee jammed precariously close to his groin. He flipped her onto her back and anchored her down with his weight pressed over her. The glimpse he caught of her eyes promised murder.

“What has got into you?”

The sound of footsteps came running from the house. He shoved the door closed with his foot and clamped a hand over her mouth, using his free arm to pin her wrists to the floor.

“Master Shen? We heard a sound.”

Voices hovered just outside while Mei Lin squirmed like a wild fox beneath him, her cries muffled by his hand.

“I’m fine. I just fell—”

He bit off a curse as the demon girl bit down hard.

“Are you all right?” the merchant asked.

“Yes! Please go back to bed, Master Wang.”

He tried to shake his hand free of Mei Lin’s teeth while still keeping her gagged. She only dug in deeper and glared at him. How had he ever imagined her to be sweet? He must have been bewitched.

The footsteps finally retreated and he pulled his hand free.

“I was trying to protect your reputation!”

She strained against his hold. “Why won’t you marry me?”

“Marry you? Why would anyone want to marry you?” His hand throbbed mercilessly. “You’re the meanest woman alive.”

“Dog-faced…bastard.”

“And the most foul-mouthed.”

She started struggling again and he made sure to keep her pinned. He didn’t trust what she’d do to him if she even had a hand free. Unfortunately his body was responding to being pressed so close to warm, feminine flesh and it wasn’t at all thinking of self-preservation.

“If you didn’t want to marry me, why did you bother with the fight?” she demanded.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Don’t you know?” Some of the hostility drained from her. “Didn’t they tell you about the challenge?”

She told him about the magistrate who tried to force her into marriage. “It was the only way I could think to escape,” she said bitterly. “But it only made matters worse. When I realized that Zhou hadn’t sent you, I thought…”

She looked away. He struggled with the right words, but couldn’t find them. It angered him that an appointed official would abuse his power in such a way.

“It wasn’t my intention to embarrass you,” he said.

“I know that now.”

Her voice broke at the last part and it was all he could do to keep from kissing her. They spoke in whispers, pressed close like lovers once he relaxed his hold. If she only knew how desirable he found her from the very first moment. The swordfight had been a welcome excuse to approach her.

Of course the fools at the tavern hadn’t told him the whole story. They’d piqued his curiosity by boasting about the girl with the butterfly swords and then goaded him into the duel. Now she’d been publicly humiliated and there was nothing he could do to set it right.

They were still lying among the wreckage of the sleeping cot with the quilt tangled between them. She went still and soft beneath him. He could feel her heart beating against his chest. The last dregs of wine still swam in his blood and he sank his head down over her shoulder. The day had brought a long journey, an unexpected duel, several rounds of drinking and then finally this wild tussle with a beautiful she-demon. The scent of her hair assailed him. Orange blossoms mixed with something mysterious and feminine.

“You smell nice,” he said dully.

She said nothing. All he did was turn his face the slightest bit and his cheek brushed inadvertently against hers. Smooth, cool skin.

He inhaled. “You wore perfume to come and kill me?”

A ribbon of tension rippled through her, but nothing for him to be alarmed at. Yet. She took a long, shuddering breath before she spoke.

“I wasn’t coming here to kill you at first.”

“No?” He couldn’t help himself. He burrowed into the space above her shoulder. His lips brushed her neck. Just enough to still be accidental. He hoped.

“I first thought I would…I came here to…” She let out a sigh, defeated. “I thought I would seduce you.”

Fierce, hot lust slammed into him. He stiffened and hoped that the quilt was strategically wedged between them.

“But when I saw you, I realized I had no idea how to seduce a man. So I thought it would just be easier to kill you.”

Laughter erupted out of him. “Mei Lin, there is no other woman like you.”

“Stop it. Stop laughing at me.” She was on the verge of tears. “You must understand that either you marry me or one of us must die. I won’t be able to live with the shame otherwise.”

“I’ve been in the highest courts of the land and no one would say such a thing.”

“I’ll be ridiculed!” She slapped the ground in frustration. “An outcast.”

He fought the urge to take her in his arms. Instead, he straightened and moved away. His body was so heavy with arousal that he needed the distance or he wouldn’t be able to trust himself. The headiness of the wine had faded, but her touch made him more drunk than any spirit.

Fumbling around in the dark, he found the oil lamp Wang had left behind and lit the dish before placing it between them on the floor. Mei Lin sat up and blinked at him through the halo of light. She scanned the wreckage around them, looking lost. Her hair had fallen loose in the struggle and it flowed over her shoulders like water.

Barely able to catch his breath, he sat back, painfully erect. If only he were in the wild plains of the north. If these were still his brash, younger days.

“So this man Zhou. Is he making things difficult for you?”

“He’s just an old goat,” she muttered. “I don’t want to waste my breath even talking about him.”

“What are you doing offering yourself in an appalling contest like this? You’re a remarkable woman, Mei Lin. Talented and—” He took a breath. “Beautiful.”

She looked down at her feet, blushing furiously. “You say these things, yet you won’t marry me.”

“A woman such as Lady Wu doesn’t need a worthless scoundrel like me.”

“I’m not a lady,” she sulked. “No one will ever want to marry me.”

The teeth marks glared red against the heel of his palm. She was vicious one moment and demure the next. A confusing, enticing combination. He tried to be rational.

“Of course they will. What about that boy—Wang?”

Even before the words left his mouth, a rash of anger spiked through him at the thought of Mei Lin with any other man.

She scowled at him. “Are you throwing me to that imbecile Wang because you won’t have me?”

“That wasn’t my intention.”

“They say that honor is everything to Shen Leung,” she challenged.

“They say many things.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. He would have preferred to not have such a reputation, but no one could control the way stories spread. People expected the impossible from him. Even the imperial court believed he could convince errant warlords to swear loyalty and bring traitors to justice. No man could live up to such expectations.

“If I could correct this, I would,” he said. “But how can I marry you? I have nothing but these empty hands. No property, no money—”

“I don’t care about those things.”

Her voice grew quiet. She was looking at him with dark and vulnerable eyes. It was impossible to try to speak reasonably when his body was demanding that he take what she offered. All that softness, all that warmth.

It wasn’t only his body reacting. He longed for much, much more from Mei Lin than a brief night in the dark, but it was impossible. Heroic poems aside, he was of mixed blood with nothing to offer.

“Mei Lin.” Heaven, even saying her name aroused him. “You need to go.”

Her expression hardened and she shoved the quilt away with her foot. “Fine, I’ll go.” She glanced around until she spied the hilt of her sword buried beneath a wooden plank. “But there is something you should know about our swordfight.”

“What is that?”

She started toward the weapon, but paused to stare at the scattered pile of his belongings. The letter protruded from the knapsack.

The letter with the imperial seal.

“Mei Lin.” He lunged for her at the same moment her fingers closed around the paper. “Give me that.”

His body stretched over hers and she twisted until they were once again face-to-face. The paper crumpled as she tightened her grip. Her eyes narrowed defiantly.

So beautiful, and she didn’t even realize it.

This time their struggle was brief. He lowered his mouth to hers and kissed her.

The first touch of his lips streaked hot through her. She had experienced Shen Leung’s strength in their duel, but now his magnificent body anchored her to the ground. His hand twisted into her hair, angling her to him. He urged her lips apart and her body curved into his without thinking.

He kissed as well as he fought.

Vaguely she felt his fingers work over hers, loosening the letter from her grasp.

“You’re not a gentleman at all,” she murmured against his mouth.

He laughed. By now he had retrieved his precious letter, but she didn’t care. He captured her mouth again. His tongue caressed hers wickedly, making her dizzy with pleasure. He tasted like rice wine. She let her arms circle his shoulders, gliding her hands over sleek, smooth muscle.

What had she come to do? Seduce him? Kill him? She didn’t remember anymore. She only knew she wanted more of him.

“We shouldn’t,” he protested, but his hand slipped into the opening of her tunic.

His hand closed over her breast and he stroked her nipple with his thumb. She arched into him, her eyes squeezed shut to savor the feelings he was showing her. The first time anyone had shown her.

“
Shen Leung
.”

“I like that.” He worked the sash at her waist. “Say my name again.”

His mouth found her throat, seeking out a spot that was especially sensitive. She lifted her chin to give him access, to give him anything he wanted. He kissed her neck before biting gently and she jumped at the shock of the touch.

“I imagined this.” His fingertips trailed down over her stomach. The exploring touch sent ripples down her spine. “While you stood across from me in the town square. I could barely concentrate.”

“I…I felt the same.”

She didn’t know what to say to him that wouldn’t sound inept. How could she tell him that she’d never felt so close to anyone? That she’d felt this way the moment they stood across from each other, swords drawn. What would he think if he knew the extent of her surrender?

Her breath caught as his hand traced a line to her other breast and circled lazily, stoking a slow fire in her. He watched her so intently, breathing harder with each caress. Her body grew damp down below, responding to him in hidden ways she’d never known.

His voice was low and sensual. “I wish I could promise you anything you wanted.”

She reached for him, her hand curling around the back of his neck to pull him back down. He yielded and kissed her with a raw edge of hunger that thrilled her.

He was so strong and wonderfully…male. She couldn’t think of any other words. His hard member pressed against her hip. She only had vague notions of what this all meant; the secrets between men and women. The mystery of it excited her even more.