Taming of Mei Lin (3 page)

He forced himself apart, still fighting her. “I won’t let this happen.”

He should have known better than to challenge her like that. She raised her hips to him and Shen Leung groaned. His hands fisted in her hair and his eyes closed, the look on his face caught between pleasure and agony.

“I can’t stay,” he said through gritted teeth.

She held onto him. The feel of him hard against her was too wonderful to relinquish. She wanted his hands on her again, his mouth on her, touching her everywhere. Boldly she reached for the edge of his trousers. Her fingertips skimmed the hard muscle of his stomach.

“No.”

He snatched her hand away, once again pinning it over her head. But this time his fingers threaded through hers. The savage tenderness of it rendered her heart in two.

Every muscle in his body strained above her and his breathing came in ragged bursts. “I have to go. There are…there are duties I’ve sworn to fulfill. If we gave in and made love tonight, what would happen to you when I leave?”

“What if you swear to me?” she asked.

“What?”

“Tell me you’ll return and I’ll believe you.”

She burrowed her face against his neck to hide from the reckless need coursing through her. She’d never begged anyone for anything. The shame of it.

“Mei Lin, you’re worth more than this.”

His words only made her burn for him. She choked back tears of frustration.

“Must you be so
honorable
?”

Slowly he eased her away so that he could see her face. “I can’t promise you anything when I don’t know what the next day will bring for me. I don’t know if I’ll be near or far or if I’ll be fortunate enough to be breathing.”

She touched a tentative hand to his cheek. “Are you saying there’s a chance you can be killed?”

His eyes had grown dark and serious. He hesitated before answering. “Nothing is certain.”

“It’s dangerous work you do for the empire, isn’t it?”

From the way his jaw tightened, she knew she was right and that he would say nothing more. Her desire faded only to be replaced by an even greater longing; the need to remain close to Shen Leung and know that he was safe.

“You should go home now,” he said.

“Let me stay just a little longer,” she pleaded.

“No.”

He planted a kiss on her lips and then another on her forehead. Then he rested his brow against hers and for a few precious moments, she listened to the sound of his breathing and wished that the moment wouldn’t end. Finally he got up and moved away.

So she went. With every step, she wondered about the stories they told about him; acts of nobility, protecting the weak and righting small injustices. There was so much more to him she wanted to know. She thought of the hunger in his eyes and hoped that if she walked slowly enough, he would call her back. But he didn’t.

She awoke earlier than usual to open the noodle shop. Actually she hadn’t slept at all. By daybreak, she was already standing between the empty tables, staring at the stretch of road leading through town. What if Shen Leung rose before dawn and left without a single farewell?

She’d stayed up, thinking over every moment she had spent with him. The memories that had started out so bright and clear had become twisted while she lay curled up in bed. He was worldly, so much more experienced than her in every way. Her overtures must have seemed laughable to him.

But he had kissed her. Again and again, like he wanted her and needed her. He’d called her beautiful. He did want her, but not enough—

“Mei Lin!” Uncle’s sharp tone cut through her meandering thoughts. “You’ve been wiping that same bowl for an hour.”

She stared at the dishrag in her hands and the porcelain with its faded blue pattern. Uncle started grumbling his usual rant about how she ate all the rice and was nothing but a worthless girl. Her temper suddenly got the better of her.

“This bowl?” She held it high and then dashed it to the ground. An angry sound pierced the morning as it shattered to pieces. “Now I don’t need to wash it anymore.”

“Disrespectful! You’ll pay for that.” He shook his finger at her and grumbled his way down the lane to share morning tea with old Chang.

As soon as he disappeared, she regretted her rashness. Breaking things and causing a storm so early in the morning simply because she was lonely. It was the first time she’d admitted it. She was lonely here.

She bent to pick up the porcelain shards and found herself face-to-face with Shen Leung. He’d somehow come to kneel beside her. Her hands fumbled over the broken pieces while he tried to help. His fingers were long and graceful and she was so clumsy. They stood at the same time and she was at a loss as she looked up at him.

“I’m not always like this,” she said in a near whisper.

His flawless manners had returned. “I can pay for that.”

“Nonsense. This wasn’t your fault.”

But it was because of him. The sharp edges of the porcelain dug into her palms. He had filled her head and taken over her thoughts. She wanted to cry just looking at him and she didn’t know why. It was unbearable to want someone so much, so quickly.

He pressed a copper into her hand. His thumb traced the edge of her palm needlessly. He slung his travel pack over one shoulder and the sight of it caused an immeasurable sadness within her.

“Won’t you stay and have something to eat?” Her attempt to sound bright failed.

“No, I should go.”

He was standing close enough for her to feel the heat of his body and search every expression that flickered across his face. She was still holding onto the broken bowl awkwardly and there was nothing clever she could conjure up to keep him there a few moments longer.

Her voice grew faint. “Please be careful.”

“It is beyond my right to demand this, but don’t accept any more of those challenges. That is no proper way for a maiden to find a husband.”

It wasn’t as if she wanted these ridiculous fights. Or that she had any choice when Zhou was intent on harassing her. Still, his request was kindly meant.

“You can make any demand you wish.” She looked down demurely. “You did win our duel.”

He fidgeted with the strap of his pack. “Perhaps my travels will take me back this way one day.”

It wasn’t quite a promise, but her heart leaped. If they weren’t in the middle of town, would he have kissed her? She was already spinning dreams in her head.

“Lady Wu,” he said with a slight bow. And then added, “Mei Lin.” He lingered over her name like a slow caress.

“Master Shen.”

And with that, he was gone.

Mei Lin hefted the basket in her arms and hurried through the woods surrounding town. Auntie Yin had protested that the wash didn’t yet need to be done, but Mei Lin had grabbed several clean articles of clothing before rushing out. There was a view of the road from a bend in the river. If she hurried, she might catch just one more glimpse of her swordsman.

“Eh, Mei Lin!”

The hated Chen Wang. What was he doing out here without his cronies anyway? She skirted around him.

“Wait, where are you going so quickly?”

“I’m busy.”

“It seems even the great Shen Leung can’t bear your temper.”

She ignored the heat rising up the back of her neck and walked faster.

He clung to her like a shadow. “Maybe toothless Lo needs a wife.”

“How’s the eye, Wang?” she countered.

There was a notable break in the determined rhythm of his footsteps behind her. “I was drunk!”

All of her skirmishes with Wang and his brood seemed inconsequential now, like incidents from another life. Shen Leung had brought a new awareness that her corner of the world was so small. Beyond these woods were greater towns and cities, glittering palaces and dangerous missions.

She spun around to chase Wang and his mosquito buzzing away, but a hulking figure among the trees caught her eye.

“Wu Mei Lin.”

Another stranger with her name on his lips. This time a cold shudder ran down her spine as the intruder’s black eyes skimmed over her from head to toe.

Wang shoved himself between them. “Who are you?”

“Let’s just say an acquaintance of Lord Zhou. He sends his regards.”

Zhou again. But this one didn’t look like the other fools who had strutted into town. He didn’t move like them. His eyes never left hers while he stalked toward them, taking up all the space in the clearing. There was a knife at his belt. Her hands tightened over the basket.

Her swords were tucked away beneath her mattress. Their little town had always been a quiet place. A safe place.

The stranger grinned. His teeth gleamed against the darkness of his beard. “You’re as pretty as Zhou said.”

“Wang, get out of here.”

But Wang stood fast. “Run, Mei Lin.”

Blood pumped through her, sick with fear. She threw the laundry basket at the stranger’s head. At the same time, Wang leaped forward and threw his arm over the man’s neck. The skinny merchant’s son wrestling an ox by the horns.

“Run!” Wang shouted.

“Yes, Mei Lin,” the stranger mocked. “Run.”

There was a snap followed by a howl of pain. She looked back to see Wang on the ground. His face was twisted in agony. He had one hand clutched over his arm.

But Zhou’s minion had no interest in Wang. He came after her, his long stride closing the distance between them. Her heart was hammering so hard it took over her senses. Her head pounded. Her hands shook.

She aimed a kick for his groin, but he was ready for it. Her foot landed against his thigh and he laughed at her. In desperation, she struck at his throat. The heel of her palm connected and he staggered back, wheezing. Behind him, Wang had pulled himself onto his knees.

“Get help,” she called out.

She was running again, dodging toward the trees and praying she was fast enough. Suddenly the forest looked foreign to her. Nothing made sense. Her legs felt sluggish in her panic. A rough hand clamped onto her arm and jerked her backward.

Something struck her across the face. The pain blinded her and she staggered, but the stranger held her up. His fingers dug into her shoulder and she tried to claw at him. The powerlessness overwhelmed her. He struck her again and then tossed her to the ground.

She tasted blood, blood and the salt of her own tears. The pain wouldn’t go away.

The stranger stood over her like a conquering lord. The faint rustle of cloth sent a new stab of fear through her.

“Zhou said to come begging at his doorstep and he might be generous. That is, if you can still walk when I’m done with you.”

He stepped closer. She clutched a hand to her cheek. She forced herself to look up, otherwise the fear would choke her and she’d drown. Her master had defied warlords and defied men far more powerful than this vagrant. Mei Lin tried to summon that fighting spirit into herself, but all she could find was a ghost of her master’s strength.

“When I see that coward Zhou—” Her swollen lips trembled. “I’ll cut his throat.”

She hated that tears stung in her eyes. Hated that he laughed at her, this man who was there to violate and possibly kill her. All because she had dared to say no to an appointed official.

A coldness took over and her body no longer felt like her own. She bit down hard against her lip as the stranger loomed overhead. He loosened his belt and his tunic hung open. She screamed at herself to flee, to fight, to do anything.

Suddenly he was dragged away. Another figure appeared before her, lean and tall and strong. One she would know anywhere.

Shen Leung grabbed the man and planted a fist into his nose. His knuckles jarred against bone and flesh. He caught sight of Mei Lin crumpled on the ground and hit the man again.

“Get up.”

There was no skill involved. Only brute strength and anger. He flexed his fingers and ignored the dull throb in them as he advanced on the coward. The man was larger than he was, yet he dared to hit a woman. Not any woman. His Mei Lin.

His.

A film clouded his eyes and a dark wrath filled him. The surge of power was nearly frightening. The fiend stumbled back against a tree with blood pouring from his broken nose. The man made the mistake of reaching for his knife.

The sight of a weapon sparked some instinct within Shen Leung. His hand closed over the hilt and the knife became part of him. In a single smooth motion, he stabbed the blade through the man’s palm, pinning it against the tree.

The scream tore through the woods.

The sound woke him from his bloodlust and he was able to break through the anger and look at this animal impassively. Violence was sometimes unavoidable. Men like this only responded to swift, decisive action.

He leaned in close while the man cursed him. “Run far,” he commanded quietly.

Shen Leung didn’t watch to see how the man detached himself or where he fled to afterward. His anger refused to cool as he listened to the fading footsteps.

Mei Lin stood with her arms hugged around herself. She spoke his name as he circled an arm around her shoulders.

“Are you hurt?”

“No.”

But he could see where she’d been struck. He touched her mouth gingerly. “Zhou?” he asked through clenched teeth.

She could only nod. Mei Lin had tried to be strong. He should have expected that when she insisted that the old tyrant was harmless. She pressed against his side and fitted herself against him, trembling. He led her to the river and sat her down on a flattened stone on the bank. Without a word, he bent to soak his handkerchief in the water. She sat with her hands folded, watching him. Her lip bled and he could see the darkening signs of a bruise over her cheekbone.

He pressed the damp cloth against the swelling. The grateful look she gave him pierced straight to his heart.

“I didn’t know Shen Leung could lose his temper like that,” she said.

He stiffened. “I don’t like to.”

“Why didn’t you draw your sword?”

“If I had, I would have killed that man.”

These weren’t the barbarian pastures. There were laws to be upheld.

“I wouldn’t have felt any regret.” She fought to keep her voice steady as he dabbed at the corner of her mouth. The sight of her beautiful face marred like this sent a fresh wave of anger through him.

“Me, neither,” he said.

He should have trusted his instincts from the beginning. He should have never walked away from Mei Lin. Tenderly he ran his fingers through her hair. She closed her eyes to absorb his touch. The tension in his body transformed immediately to desire, but he fought it. This wasn’t the time—yet her fingers tangled into the front of his tunic, willing him closer.

“You’re only frightened,” he protested.

She shook her head. He knew what she was asking. It was torture to keep denying her when he’d wanted her since his first glimpse of her standing in the sunlight. When some bastard had nearly taken her from him.

“Let me take you home.”

“I thought I would die when I saw you walk away,” she whispered.

“We can talk later.”

“
Stop fighting me.
”

There was trust and longing in her eyes. He wanted to wrap his arms around her and keep her safe forever. She had stopped trembling. He brushed his thumb over her jaw and her lips parted with a sigh. He kissed her, gently at first, then deeper with each moment. His hand slid down to the small of her back and she pressed feverishly against him.

Mei Lin’s arms circled his neck as she explored his mouth. He grew hard in an instant. She didn’t want a protector, she wanted reassurance and comfort. She wanted
him
. In a moment of decision, he braced his knee against the rock and dragged her into his arms.

Her hands stole beneath his tunic while he carried her to the riverbank and laid her down in a patch of wild grass. The touch of her hands over his bare skin drove him mad. She roamed over his chest and stroked lower over his stomach. He grew tight with anticipation, his cock heavy.

“When I saw you, I knew,” he said.

He ran his hands through her hair. She was looking up at him with her eyes lidded and sensual, her flawless skin framed by the tall grass around them. She was too beautiful for words. He kissed her because he had to. He needed to absorb her, take her and make her his.

“I knew this was how it would be with us, but I denied myself. I didn’t want to dream.”

“You talk too much,” she chided.

Her clever fingers pulled the ties of his trousers loose and suddenly he was throbbing with her hands around him, so soft. He thrust mindlessly into her grasp, reaching toward heaven.

Mei Lin’s heartbeat quickened. This was so reckless of her. Anyone could come and find them and at that moment, she didn’t care. Her world had narrowed until there was only the man above her, his face blocking out the sky. From all the stories the old wives told, she should be frightened. Her virtue was in peril. She would be scandalized. But Shen Leung didn’t frighten her.

His flesh swelled against her palms, the skin fine and smooth like silk and hot to the touch. His eyes were closed and his expression bordered on pain, every muscle in his face taut. He had one hand fisted in the grass beside her ear and his breathing was labored.

She had no experience in these things, but she had good instincts. She ran her hand over the thick length of him.

“
Mei Lin
.”

He gasped out her name as his fingers tangled into her hair. His kiss was almost forceful. His warm tongue took her mouth and her breath became his breath. She grew dizzy. Before she knew what was happening he had opened her top to caress her breasts.

Her fingers slipped listlessly from him as pleasure arched through her in waves. His touch was so knowing, so experienced. For a second, she wished that she could be wearing perfume and silk and be enchanting.

She parted his tunic as well, following his lead. He was as beautiful and strong as she remembered. She ran her hands over solid muscle. The image of his bare chest had plagued her through the night.

He brushed her hands aside and for a moment she was confused. But only for a moment. His mouth descended to close over her breast and suddenly her body was no longer her own. It arched into him, a wild, wanton creature. A strangled cry escaped her lips. She wanted more.

He gave her more. His tongue slid over her nipple and she writhed in his arms. He did it again, rougher this time, his teeth scraping lightly over the sensitive bud. No longer careful, almost cruel. She sobbed and held onto him while he parted her legs. There was no time to even remove all of their clothing. The wickedness of it took her breath away.

He entered her, flesh to flesh easing deep and invoking a confusing tumble of emotion. Surrender and possession. There was an exquisite pain as he filled her, a focusing of all sensation at the point where their bodies joined. And she was surprised to discover she loved all of it; the sensation of being stretched beyond bearing, even the slight hitch of pain. She cried out as he entered her completely. Her legs wrapped around him and she buried her face against his throat. His pulse thrummed against her lips, calling to her.

He groaned her name and she bit his neck. She’d learned that from him. She learned a lot of other things, too. When she lifted her hips he held her tighter. His fingers pressed into the small of her back and his movements became more jagged and uncontrolled.

The pleasure-pain reached a crest and her entire body tightened. Her vision blurred. Everything vanished. Even Shen Leung, except for the unrelenting swell of him within her and the solid muscle of his shoulders where she clung to him.

When she opened her eyes again he was watching her. He cradled her, lifting her away from the ground while he rocked into her, watching her face with each thrust.

It didn’t take long. His body tightened and he crushed his mouth over hers. It wasn’t a kiss anymore. The caress was raw and desperate. He ground against her lips as he pushed himself deep. Then he held her tight while he shuddered over her, groaning with his release as the skies opened.

The stillness afterward went on for a long time.

A long time.

Honor was everything to Shen Leung according to the tales they told. Would he marry her now? Was it even possible between a wandering swordsman working for the imperial court and a nameless girl in a nothing town? She blinked up at him, waiting.

He stroked her hair, letting the strands fall through his fingers. “You’re so beautiful,” he said finally, and she held her breath. He would tell her now. He had to.

“That dog Zhou and I are going to have a conversation,” he said instead. “Today.”