White Tigress (48 page)

She extended her hand, having the most powerful urge to touch the man's head, to feel the new hair. Or did she simply want to touch him? To reconnect with this most amazing man. Whatever the case, she stopped herself, curling her hands into fists to prevent so rude a gesture.

Then, suddenly, he was done.

He had been holding up Octavia's hoof, but now he set it carefully back on the ground. The horse shifted immediately, settling her weight upon the leg and snorting something that sounded like approval. Joanna stared, unable to do more than state the obvious.

"She's better!"

"Her qi is strong. She is a good horse." Then the man stood, resting his hand on Octavia's shoulder in much the same way he had touched Joanna a few moments before.

Joanna protested, "But she was hurt. Badly. I thought... I feared that my father—"

"She will heal." The man glared at her. "But you should be whipped."

Joanna reared back, shocked. It didn't matter that she'd thought the same thing just a moment before; he had no right to speak that way to her. "How dare you!" she hissed.

His eyes widened. Apparently no woman had ever spoken in such a way to him, either. But his surprise faded almost before she understood his reaction. Abruptly he was looming over her, his entire body taut with fury. "I dare," he snarled, "because she is a living creature of value. She is not a toy or a pet. And women need to be taught how to treat such beings before they destroy them with their stupidity."

"I know how to handle my horse!" Joanna snapped, more irritated with herself than with him. He stood barely an inch taller than her; his clothing marked him as one of the wretched poor, and yet she felt intimidated down to the very pit of her stomach. Intimidated enough that she was fighting back with every fiber of her being, despite the fact that she already knew she had acted irresponsibly.

So she turned her back on him. She lifted his blanket off her shoulders, folding it carefully as she spoke.

"Thank you for your assistance. If you provide me with your name and direction, I shall see that you are well compensated for your assistance."

"Give me your horse."

Her head shot up, his blanket tumbling awkwardly from her grip. "I beg your pardon?"

He stood with his legs spread, his arms folded across his large chest. "You wish to repay me. I wish for your mistreated horse."

Her gaze shot to her mare, who stood quietly at attention, not even eating the grass but waiting patiently, as if ready to be handed over. Joanna turned back to the man. "Octavia is not mistreated!" she snapped.

"If that were so, then she would not be lame."

"She is not lame!" Indeed, right now Octavia looked as if she could even bear a rider. Joanna wouldn't risk it, but the horse truly looked as hale as ever.

The man was apparently unswayed. "You owe me a debt. You said so yourself. I wish your horse. Nothing could be simpler."

"Nothing could be more ridiculous," she snapped. "You can't even feed and clothe yourself. You cannot manage a horse as well." And with those words, she picked up the man's blanket, awkwardly tossing it at him. He caught it midflight, quickly refolding it into a tight, smooth roll.

Then he shrugged. "I will see that she gains a good home."

"She has a good home now," Joanna retorted, finally gaining enough fury to gather the reins. She meant to pass beyond him, to move as fast as the mare could tolerate. But the man stopped her with a single outstretched hand. He didn't touch her, but she found herself unable to physically challenge him.

"There are Boxers nearby. Do you wish to be unprotected again?"

Her entire body clenched at his words, and her spine seemed to slick over with ice.

"Do you?" he pressed.

"Then you are not..." She swallowed. "You are not one of the Fists of Righteous Harmony?"

He straightened as if slapped. "I am a loyal Qin!"

"Of course, of course," she soothed. "But those men. They couldn't be..." Her voice trailed away. They couldn't possibly be the revolutionaries. Not when they'd acted no more honorably than a bunch of dirty highwaymen.

"They were," he said flatly. "And you are a fool to have thought differently."

She nodded, too sick at heart to argue. So much for her great vision of bringing American freedom to struggling Chinese. She certainly couldn't risk contacting those men again. The very thought left her as shaken and vulnerable as when he'd first found her. The only thing she could do to steady herself was to continue talking—arguing—with this man. If she kept talking, perhaps she wouldn't melt into a puddle of terror.

"Please, sir," she said as evenly as possible. "Come to my home. See that our horses are well cared for."

He didn't answer at first, and she found herself twisting uncomfortably as she waited. She did not want to be alone on this road. She did not wish to be left unprotected again. And despite his arrogant behavior, she had the strangest urge to stay near him, to learn more about him, to... She started, appalled at her thoughts. She most certainly didn't want to do
that
with him. But she did. Most powerfully so, it seemed.

Thankfully, he chose that moment to speak, cutting off her startling realization. "I will come," he said flatly. "But only to see that you are properly whipped."

Hungry Tigress

The Way of The Tigress

Book Two

by

Jade Lee

~

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Hungry Tigress

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Page forward and continue your journey

with an excerpt from Jade Lee's

Desperate Tigress

The Way of The Tigress

Book Three

Excerpt from

Desperate Tigress

The Way of The Tigress

Book Three

by

Jade Lee

USA Today Bestselling Author

A businessman was trying to teach his young son to talk flexibly—neither saying yes or no, but remaining ambiguous. "For example," he said, "if someone wanted to borrow food, you could answer, 'I don't know whether we have that or not. Let me have a look, and I will tell you later.'"

The boy kept his father's words in mind, so when a visitor asked if his father was in, the son replied:

"I'm sorry. Some are in, some are not. Let me have a look, and I will tell you later."