# Silk, Swords And Surrender: The Touch of Moonlight / The Taming of Mei Lin / The Lady's Scandalous Night / An Illicit Temptation / Capturing the Silken Thief

Jeannie Lin

Be swept away to a land of silk and swords, passion and surrenderFrom USA TODAY bestselling author Jeannie Lin comes a tantalizing new five-story volume. Take a journey to Tang Dynasty China and join five unique heroines as they fight, seduce and steal their way into their heroes' hearts.Rediscover four reader-favorite stories and immerse yourself in The Touch of Moonlight, the brand-new sexy novella from this highly-acclaimed author!

Be swept away to a land of silk and swords, passion and surrender

From USA TODAY bestselling author Jeannie Lin comes a tantalizing new five-story volume. Take a journey to Tang Dynasty China and join five unique heroines as they fight, seduce and steal their way into their heroes’ hearts.

Rediscover four reader-favorite stories and immerse yourself in “The Touch of Moonlight,” the brand-new sexy novella from this highly-acclaimed author!

Praise for award-winning author of Silk, Swords and Surrender Jeannie Lin

‘This is one bit of fancy and fearless footwork that you won’t want to miss.’

—Heroes and Heartbreakers on A Dance with Danger

‘Lin has a gift for bringing the wondrous and colorful world of ancient China to readers.’

—RT Book Reviews on My Fair Concubine

‘Lin’s politically and culturally rich story is atypical, sensual, and filled with honour and wit.’

—Publishers Weekly on The Sword Dancer

‘The action never stops, the love story is strong and the historical backdrop is fascinating. For the adventurous reader...this is a treasure.’

—RT Book Reviews on Butterfly Swords

Award-winning author JEANNIE LIN started writing her first book while working as a high school science teacher in South Central Los Angeles. Her stories are inspired by a mix of historical research and wuxia adventure tales. Jeannie’s groundbreaking historical romances set in Tang Dynasty China have received multiple awards, including the Golden Heart for her debut novel Butterfly Swords.

Silk, Swords and Surrender

Jeannie Lin


www.millsandboon.co.uk

Table of Contents

Cover

Back Cover Text

Praise

About the Author

Title Page

THE TOUCH OF MOONLIGHT

THE TAMING OF MEI LIN

THE LADY’S SCANDALOUS NIGHT

AN ILLICIT TEMPTATION

CAPTURING THE SILKEN THIEF

Extract

Copyright

THE TOUCH OF MOONLIGHT

Author Note

I started writing the earliest novella in this collection six years ago. I remember the joy of writing it—I had just sold my first novel, Butterfly Swords, and The Taming of Mei Lin was originally a story-within-a-story of that larger narrative.

When it was released, I remember posting instructions on how to download it, since so many readers had never read an e-Book before. How times have changed! Six years in a writer’s life isn’t a great expanse of time, yet it feels as if publishing has lived a thousand lives.

During that time, I’ve alternated between full-length novels and shorter works, expanding my Tang Dynasty world. With the shorter stories I was able to experiment with condensed timelines and building conflict quickly. I was able to explore ways of creating a vibrant world in fewer words while playing with multiple side stories and characters.

In this collection there are linked stories to Butterfly Swords, The Dragon and the Pearl and My Fair Concubine. Capturing the Silken Thief was written as a lead-in to the Lotus Palace series. And the new addition, The Touch of Moonlight presents a girl-next-door tale, Tang Dynasty style, to counterbalance the sword fights and high drama.

I loved writing these stories and I’ve always been proud of them. I’ve always hoped they would be gathered into a single collection for readers to enjoy and here they are! Dreams do come true.

You can find out more about these stories or contact me online at my website jeannielin.com. Let me know which story is your favorite.

Contents

Author Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter One

Tang Dynasty China, 841 AD

A flock of young ladies hovered near the garden wall. The neighborhood girls were on their afternoon stroll, and a pleasant cloud of chatter and gossip surrounded them. Baozhen appreciated the familiar sight after nearly a year away from the city. He appreciated it enough to stop at the end of the lane to watch and listen.

He knew all these lovely sparrows, of course. Everyone knew everyone in this ward. The courtyard houses were packed closely together, with only their surrounding walls to provide privacy. Families lived in the residences from one generation to the next, sharing news big and small across the narrow alleyways between them.

Lian was among them, a face perhaps a little more familiar than the rest. She was merchant Chen’s daughter, and the Chen family were his closest neighbors. Lian had her eye to an opening in the garden wall while the other girls giggled around her. The odd thing was that Lian—sensible, serious Lian—was giggling along with the rest of them.

“Now, this is a sight these eyes have missed,” he announced.

The ladies scattered like peach blossoms in the wind as he approached, only to regroup with a fresh round of giggling.

“Baozhen!”

“You’re back.”

“Did you bring me anything?”

The last voice was the quietest of them. “You’re home early.”

Little Lian was blushing when he looked at her. The last time he’d seen her had been on the day of his departure. She’d come out to her front gate to wish him a safe journey, wearing a blue robe the color of a clouded sky. Odd that he’d remember that now.

Her father had a formidable reputation in the East Market. He’d cleverly negotiated lucrative deals with foreign traders from the northwest and had a reputation for being able to procure anything. Chen was a serious businessman, with no tolerance for fools, and his daughter was the same. Lian never blushed. Baozhen simply had to see what was on the other side of that wall.

“What could have everyone so distracted that they’d forget to greet an old friend?” he accused lightly as he went to the aperture.

“Oh, just the new object of our admiration,” one of the girls teased. “You’ve been away for so long we’ve all but forgotten you.”

A chorus of voices agreed. They really were pretty little songbirds and, as always, he appreciated the attention. He had grown up with them. There was always some infatuation or another among them. It was with curiosity rather than jealousy that he searched out the figure through the wall.

“Liu Jinhai?”

More giggling.

Jinhai was flamboyantly dressed as usual. His father dealt in textiles, and Jinhai never gave up an opportunity to display his wardrobe. He was probably on his way to the drinking house. Baozhen might even join him later.

“I’m wounded.” Baozhen grinned as he faced them. “For a couple of bolts of pretty silk you’ve forgotten me.”

“No!” they cooed.

“Never.”

“He’s not as handsome as you.”

One girl took his right side and another quickly swept in to take his left. Lian remained apart, looking upon the theatrics somewhat impatiently.

“When did you return?” she asked.

“Yesterday evening. I was actually coming to pay your family a visit for tea.”

As entertaining as the cooing and flattery was, Baozhen shifted into conversation with his neighbor and the others took the hint. They flitted away to other diversions.

His family managed several transport routes to the cities of the southern provinces. This last trip had taken longer than usual as it had been time for him to learn the routes and meet their many business associates.

“I had heard you wouldn’t be back for another month at least.”

Lian seemed subdued, and much less enthusiastic than the others about his return. Something else seemed to occupy her thoughts.

“I missed being in the city,” he said.

They fell into easy step beside one another, making their way down to the lane where their families resided. Lian was looking straight ahead and he took the opportunity to scrutinize her a little more closely. She seemed somehow...different walking beside him. Something about the way she carried herself.

Baozhen broke into a smile. “I missed you, as well,” he added as an afterthought.

She didn’t show any response to the casual flirtation. Instead she smoothed her fingers through her hair, tucking the left side neatly behind her ear, and continued inquiring about his journey and the state of his father’s business.

He should have known better. This was the child with the dirty knees who’d run wild through the alleyways in pigtails. The girl he’d teased for being bony and the one who’d thrown crab apples at his head whenever he’d done so. They were too familiar for any tantalizing innuendoes between them.

And he hadn’t really missed Lian while he’d been away. Well, he hadn’t exactly thought of her much, but now that she was here beside him maybe he had missed her. Was it possible not to know how much you’d missed someone until you saw them again?

“Is Liu Jinhai an acquaintance of yours?” She was looking away again, occupied with straightening her sleeves.

Baozhen frowned. “You could say.”

“Hmm.” She made a soft, noncommittal sound beneath her breath that he would spend the rest of the day trying to interpret.

He went on talking about Hangzhou. The lushness of the forests and the great West Lake. Hadn’t Lian been excited that he was going to these faraway places? When she’d bade him farewell, the way she’d regarded him, with eyes shining and full of wonder, had made his chest puff out. She was only the skinny neighbor girl, but she was still female, and female admiration was not something to be shrugged aside.

But Lian was barely paying attention to him now that she wasn’t so skinny anymore. Her eyes had taken on that faraway look again and her cheeks were tinged pink.

“Baozhen.” She interrupted his tale without remorse. “We’re longtime friends, aren’t we?”

Lian’s midnight-dark eyes were finally fixed on him and he was reminded of another time when she had approached him so directly. An unexpected knot formed in his throat.

“Of course,” he said casually, with a smile that he found he had to force. He who was so careless with his smiles. Who was notorious for them.

“Can you introduce me to him?”

“To who?”

She blinked away from his gaze, batting silken lashes that were longer than he remembered. Heaven, everything was different from what he remembered.

“You know who,” she said impatiently. “Liu Jinhai.”

* * *

Baozhen barked out a laugh, and Lian didn’t have anything to throw at his head besides a poisoned look. His skin was a shade darker, turned copper by his travels in the sun, and he did appear more worldly—though that was likely her imagination. She could see his boyish behavior hadn’t changed.

“Did you just remember an old joke?” she asked, glowering. “Because I haven’t said anything funny.”

“Since when do your attentions follow the whims of that flock of songbirds?”

“I don’t pay any attention to what the others are fawning over,” she protested. “For instance, now that you’re back they’ll likely return to swooning over you. I find Liu Jinhai interesting, that’s all.”

Baozhen stopped short, forcing her to halt and turn back to him. “Interesting?” he challenged with a quirk of his mouth.

She lifted her chin stubbornly. “Yes.”

His eyes creased at the corners as he regarded her. That was twice he’d paused to look her over. Lian glowed inside with triumph. Finally Baozhen was the one who was confused and trying to figure her out.

She had known him for as long as she could remember. Their families lived side by side, with only an alleyway separating them. When the neighborhood girls had started gossiping, and calling Baozhen handsome, Lian had stared at him, eyes squinted, trying to figure out what they were talking about.

He was six years her elder, and infamous throughout the ward. Even Ming-ha, her older cousin, had been infatuated with him at one point. Lian had caught them kissing once, behind the shrubbery in the garden. Lian alone had seemed immune to Baozhen’s charms—until three years ago. Since then it had been torture to maintain her veneer of indifference. It was torture to continue to be overlooked every single day.

Now, for the first time, Baozhen was actually paying attention to her. All it had taken was the mention of another man’s name. She should have guessed as much. Men were like rams, battering their hard heads together.

“Liu Jinhai is a no-good wastrel,” Baozhen began. “He drinks. He frequents gambling dens and cavorts with song girls. Completely unsuitable for you.”

Lian listened to the litany, each denouncement adding to her good mood. “The same things can be said of you. Every single one.”

“I’m not suitable for you either.”

He tapped the tip of her nose with a finger and graced her with one of his smiles. It was a bright flash that tickled her insides and weakened her knees. Baozhen had a way of doing that without any effort at all. He made her feel important, as if all that radiance shone only on her, but she knew that wasn’t true. He had that effect on everyone.

Lian didn’t give him the satisfaction of swatting his hand away. It would play into his view of her as a young and impetuous brat, and she was tired of playing that game.

“I don’t need your opinion of him,” she insisted. “All I want is an introduction.”

“I can’t stand by and watch a dear friend be devoured by a wolf. Why, you’re practically like a little sister to me.”

Oh, she didn’t like that at all. “No matter, then,” she said with a wave, and continued toward home. “I’m sure there are countless places where I can run into Liu Jinhai while I’m alone and in distress...”

Baozhen caught up to her in several long strides. “All right, I surrender. I’ll introduce you to your precious prince if only to keep you out of trouble. I never knew you could be such a she-demon when you wanted something.”

Chapter Two

“You can’t go looking like that,” Baozhen declared.

Apparently her family had immediately welcomed him into the fold. He was roaming about their courtyard once again as if he lived there.

“You’re going to be late,” she told him.

He paid no attention to her reprimand. Instead he frowned as he looked her over. She had taken care to dress in a light summer robe with many eye-catching colors. The outer layer was a hand-painted gauze which revealed the barest hint of her arms through its sheerness. The morning air was cool in the garden, with a slight breeze rustling the cypress trees. A flood of heat swept through her as Baozhen’s gaze lingered at the lowered neckline.

“Too obvious,” he declared. “Any man seeing a woman like this would know that she’s interested.”

“So?”

“A lady should be a bit more subtle. Yin is the essence of darkness and secrets, after all.”

Lian stood her ground. “Of course. It’s so much better to be so subtle and secretive that I’m never noticed at all. Not even when someone has known me for years and years.”

Baozhen’s scowl deepened as he considered her words. A look of displeasure creased his brow, but within moments it had been smoothed out to his usual careless look. The one that so easily charmed the world.

“There are other ways of being noticed,” he drawled.

The low suggestiveness in his tone took her off-balance and she scrambled to recover. “What are you doing here, anyway? Cousin Ming-ha and I were just headed out to the park.”

They were supposed to “accidentally” meet Liu Jinhai in an hour.

“I came to bring you your gift.” He produced a parcel from the fold of his sleeve. “I saw this in Suzhou. It made me think of you.”

The package was wrapped in plain sackcloth. Despite its humble appearance, the gesture warmed her, and a little shiver of excitement ran down her spine as she loosened the twine. Baozhen folded his hands behind his back and hovered to watch.

She held up the polished hardwood frame wrapped with red cord. “A slingshot?”

He beamed proudly. “You used to be quite dangerous with one of those.”

When she was twelve. “What did you get Ming-ha?” she demanded.

“A bottle of perfume,” he replied with a shrug.

Her cousin warranted a gift that was pretty and feminine, to match her pretty and feminine self, while Lian received a child’s toy. She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. Baozhen really was insufferable.

“You don’t like it?” he asked, hurt.

“No, it’s wonderful. Perfect,” she said through her teeth.

“You’re upset.” He was following her through the garden. Still smiling. “I can bring you another gift if you’d like.”

She turned on him. “You didn’t speak to Liu Jinhai at all, did you?”

“Of course I did. I have nothing to fear from him.”

His smile widened. That devastating smile. It confused her so.

“You’ll get your chance encounter, but—looking as made-up as you do—I’m thinking you’re hoping for a little bit more than an introduction.”

She realized he was gradually backing her into the corner of the garden, behind the pruned cypress. Now he was back he was obviously looking for more conquests to add to his collection. Her hand shot out to brace against his chest, where she collided against a solid wall of muscle.

“Scoundrel.”

The scoundrel laughed. “It’s just a kiss, Lian.”

She couldn’t help the way her stomach fluttered, nor how her heart pounded. He ventured a step closer, but she held firm. She knew Baozhen too well. He had no control over his effect on women and had come to accept their adoration as a matter of course. It took no effort for him to make her feel these things. He did it without knowledge and without care, taking no responsibility for her hope, her excitement or her pain.

He was blissfully ignorant while her spirits soared or plummeted at his whim.

She gave him a little shove, though it did little to move him. “Maybe it’s not you I want a kiss from.”

“You asked me for one once.”

She froze.

Any gentleman would have conveniently forgotten her request. She had been young and had foolishly gathered her courage to ask for a kiss. Baozhen had been older and more experienced. He had refused her. Even worse.

“You laughed at me.” The sharp, piercing embarrassment came back to her. She had shrunk inside to nothing more than a wisp of smoke and disappeared into her room for days.

Baozhen looked stricken. “I didn’t laugh at you.” He paused, as if trying to recall. “Or I didn’t mean to, if that’s what happened. You surprised me. It was just that you were—”

He struggled for words, his smooth charm failing him. He seemed earnest in his uncertainty and she let down her guard.

“Perhaps I was waiting for a better time,” he said, but his tone was more gentle than beguiling.

A small crack formed in her resistance. He backed her farther behind the cover of the shrubbery and this time she let him. She let him because it was Baozhen, and it had hurt so much when he’d rejected her. She had been fifteen years old and foolish, and now she was eighteen and not so foolish—but she still very much wanted that kiss.

He didn’t put his arms around her. Instead he rested his hands over her shoulders as he bent to her, holding her carefully, as if she were made of porcelain. She couldn’t breathe. Baozhen was so close and she had imagined this for so long, in so many different ways. She could feel the sigh of his breath against her lips, and then his mouth was on hers.

His lips were softer and warmer than she’d imagined—but in no more than a heartbeat he was gone.

She was left blinking up at him. That was all? Baozhen straightened abruptly, and for a moment they simply stood there. The tingle of the maddeningly brief touch had already faded. She didn’t even have any time to consider returning his kiss.

“I’ll see you at the park.” Baozhen wasn’t smiling or teasing, or really doing anything but staring at her oddly.

“Until then,” she said, her voice dull.

She stood clutching that ridiculous slingshot to her breast as he turned to go. Someone as adept as Baozhen couldn’t even flirt with her properly. She truly was as hopeless as she had always feared.

* * *

Baozhen had just arrived at the park when he saw the yellow-pink flash of Lian’s summer robe through the green. She was at the far end, strolling along beside her cousin. Within moments she caught his eye but quickly looked away, pretending to be absorbed with something Ming-ha was saying.

“I thought we were going to the tea house,” Jinhai said from behind him.

Usually he found Liu Jinhai to be an agreeable companion. They had similar interests and he was good-humored and unpretentious. Today, Baozhen found him unbearable.

“In a while. There’s something we must do first,” Baozhen said, resigned.

The two ladies glided along the pebbled walkway, making an unerring path toward them.

Conveniently, it was Ming-ha who called out. “Why, it’s Baozhen!”

Lian came up beside her, her robe catching the breeze just enough to tease them with a glimpse of the rounded curves beneath the delicate material.

Baozhen stepped out in front of them. “What a surprise. This pleasant morning has become more enjoyable.”

“Ah, now I see...” Jinhai’s murmur came low and amused from behind him.

Baozhen suppressed a scowl and positioned himself squarely at the lead, to greet Lian and her cousin. Ming-ha was the taller of the two. Her features were slender and elongated and he had been thoroughly fascinated with her once for half a summer, in the way of a boy just beyond childhood.

It was Lian who had his complete attention now. She was softer in the face, with eyes that were keen like a cat’s. After such a long time away, he had decided he did find Lian pretty. This morning had confirmed it. Why else would he have been so compelled to kiss her? Now, every time he saw her, he couldn’t look away. His senses demanded to be constantly fed with this new discovery.

“It’s been too long, Miss Lian,” he said with an overflow of meaning.

“Nonsense, Baozhen. We live next to each other. We see each other too often, one might say.”

Lian had drawn a red tint over her lips since they’d parted. The little fox. She also had a fan in her hands, which she wasn’t using at all to her advantage. It was supposed to be an excuse to bring attention to shapely hands and bared wrists, but instead she was waving it in short, impatient movements while trying to glance around him.

“Your friend, here, is another matter,” she said pointedly. “I don’t believe we’ve ever met.”

Her directness was refreshing—except that it was directed at the wrong man. Baozhen could sense Jinhai similarly trying to weave around him to make an introduction. Any man would, the way Lian was dressed and painted like a newly ripened peach, ready to be plucked.

“Liu Jinhai’s father is a textile merchant in the East Market,” Baozhen offered rather magnanimously. “And this is Miss Chen Lian.”

“Miss Lian.” Jinhai executed a rather courtly-looking bow.

Baozhen noted with displeasure how Jinhai immediately adopted the more intimate form of address. He also had nothing good to say about the way Lian’s eyes fluttered downward. She echoed Jinhai’s name between her lips with a sweet murmur that set Baozhen’s pulse into a dangerous fervor.

“Miss Lian’s family lives in the courtyard beside ours. We’re very close,” he added.

“Our families are very close,” Lian corrected, flashing him the eye.

Jinhai had managed to maneuver around him to stand beside her. He granted her a smile that was full of even white teeth. “You must have interesting stories to tell about this fool.”

“I do...but only if one wants to hear about Guo Baozhen. Do you?”

“On second thought, I don’t. Not really.”

They shared a laugh. How charming.

Baozhen was preparing to insert himself back into the conversation when dear Ming-ha chimed in. “Let’s go see the fish pond.”

She took his arm and held on tight before he could slip away.

“Let’s all go together,” he said, loud enough to interrupt Lian and Jinhai. Ming-ha’s nails dug lightly into his forearm.

Jinhai gallantly took Lian’s side as they circled the pond, remaining a respectful arm’s length away—which was still too close in Baozhen’s opinion.

“Our fathers often do business with each other,” Jinhai was saying. “Mister Chen is a tough businessman, but always fair.”

“My father speaks very highly of yours, as well,” Lian replied. “Funny how our families know each other but we two have never met.”

“I’m grateful that fate brought me to the park this morning, Miss Lian.”

“I was having the same thought.”

Baozhen snorted, causing both of them to turn to look at him. Lian lashed him with a glare. He replied with a smirk.

The two of them turned back to their conversation. Jinhai was being a gentleman, the dog. He was commenting on the beauty of nature and even stole a few verses from the poet Li Bai. Lian was nodding politely, offering a few meek words here and there.

Baozhen couldn’t believe how bland the conversation was. It was nothing like the spirited exchanges he and Lian shared.

One turn around the carp pond later and Lian took her leave of Jinhai with a proper bow. Baozhen needn’t have worried. Jinhai must have thoroughly bored her for Lian to give up so easily. He knew her temperament. She had no tolerance for coy little games.

He was beaming in triumph when she came to him to say farewell. He wouldn’t tease her too much about this, he resolved.

She leaned in to take him into her confidence. “Thank you,” she whispered softly.

The look she gave him was full of joy. Her smile brightened and the warmth of it radiated throughout her. Baozhen’s own smile quickly faded.

Lian looked happy. Happier than he could remember ever seeing her. All for a few lines of stolen poetry from some peacock who barely knew her.

Chapter Three

Lian placed the pebble into the leather sling and took careful aim. She was perched on top of the gardener’s ladder, which raised her high enough over the courtyard wall to see into the alleyway. She also had clear sight of the side entrance to the Guo residence. As soon as Baozhen appeared, she let the pebble fly. It flew past his ear and struck against the gate.

“Hey—”

She sighed. “I must be out of practice.”

Baozhen brushed a hand over the front of his tunic to regain his composure.

He glanced up at her from the alleyway, showing off the strong cut of his jaw and that playful mouth. “Miss Lian, I see that you’re in a bloodthirsty mood today.”

Some of the successful merchants in the ward wore bright embroidered fabrics, as a show of their wealth, but Baozhen and his family favored muted, darker colors. He didn’t need a bright banner to draw attention to himself.

“Have you heard?” she asked.

Baozhen responded with a raised eyebrow—a look that he thought made him endearing. Most of the neighborhood girls agreed.

“Liu Jinhai sent my family a gift of tea and lychees yesterday,” she said smugly.

“Hmm...lychees. You must have really made an impression.”

So at ease with himself. It wasn’t a matter of pride or vanity for him. Everything came naturally to him.

“There’s some creature hovering at your head, there,” he remarked.

She couldn’t help gloating. She touched a hand to the gilded hummingbird ornament. “It’s a hairpin. Jinhai had it delivered to me personally.”

“Let me guess: along with a few lines of poetry that he copied from somewhere?”

She sniffed, refusing to let him dim her glow. Baozhen disappeared momentarily into his house to re-emerge atop his wall. They were now face-to-face across the two compounds.

“So, only two days and Liu Jinhai is already introducing himself to your parents and sending you gifts?”

“Nothing as impressive as a slingshot,” she pointed out wickedly.

“I should have thought more carefully about arming you. I don’t think you’ll miss next time, and this handsome face is the only asset I have.”

“Don’t forget the mouth part of that face,” she retorted.

He laughed at that, and a lazy warmth filled her. It was so wonderful, speaking with Baozhen like this. All his attention was focused on her and it didn’t matter what they said. The only thing that mattered was spending time in his company.

“Now that you’ve shown yourself to be so highly sought after...” he began.

She preened accordingly.

“Are you certain you want to limit yourself to only one admirer? You should have an army of suitors pushing their way through the gates.”

“Not everyone needs to surround themselves with a flock of admirers,” Lian scoffed. “Some of us are only looking for one person to make us happy.”

He frowned, confused.

“Liu Jinhai actually thinks I’m pretty,” she added, a little too shyly.

“I think you’re pretty,” he replied, a little too easily.

“You call me ‘alley cat.’ Like all the scrawny strays prowling the streets.”

“I’ll have to come up with a better name. That one hardly suits you anymore.”

He granted her a look that was far from brotherly and her toes curled with delight. He didn’t even have to make an effort to coax every part of her into drawing toward him with longing.

“Are you going to the banquet tonight at the Ko mansion?” he asked.

Ko was the registrar, whose offices recorded and approved all the goods that flowed through the East Market. He was celebrating his son’s civil appointment and had invited all the influential merchants and businessmen of the ward.

“Father and Mother will be attending,” she said.

“And you?”

She shrugged airily. “I have a feeling I won’t be well enough to go out this evening.”

“Oh?” His eyebrow was raised again, but this time it wasn’t in a charming fashion.

Baozhen took all the attention bestowed upon him for granted. He was used to having women sighing at his every word and he had become indifferent. She would be just another lovesick maiden if she fell prey to him.

“My family will be out all night drinking wine and playing the dice. I’m already feeling a bit tired,” she declared, conspicuously adjusting the hummingbird pin. “It’s best I stay home alone and rest.”

“Lian...” he began in warning tones.

She took that opportunity to disappear down the ladder. Her heart skipped with excitement as her feet settled onto the ground. Baozhen’s look of concern had been the last thing she saw before descending. And it had been very far from indifferent.

* * *

It was evening and the neighborhood had cleared. Everyone had gone to attend the registrar’s gathering. Baozhen remained behind—only to find that Lian had already slipped away from home. He’d expected as much from the dreamy look in her eyes that morning. She was a smitten young girl, floating in a world of clouds. With cursed hummingbirds flitting about her.

Liu Jinhai could be a gentleman when he tried. He was capable of being smooth and charming and well-spoken. But he was a wolf at heart. Cads like Liu Jinhai and himself ran in the same pack. It was all in good fun. Flirtation, secret meetings, stolen kisses in the dark—until someone got careless. Until some pretty, passionate flower like Lian, who believed in eternal love, came along and made them lose their heads. The wolves were prey as much as predator in this game.

Baozhen would have been wasting his breath to try to dissuade her. No one since the first dynasty had ever been talked out of a romantic liaison. Certainly not any love-stricken young girl.

It wasn’t hard to figure out the location for their secret meeting. There were only a few places one could sneak away to in the ward. Baozhen returned to the public park. Sure enough, there was an orb lantern bobbing in the trees just beyond the carp pond.

“Were you expecting me?” he asked as he entered the circle of trees.

Lian jumped from her spot on the stone bench. To his relief, she was still alone.

“No,” she said. “I wasn’t.”

He made himself a place beside her. “One wolf is as good as another.”

“You’re more of an old goat than a wolf,” she complained.

Heaven help him, he liked her. He had always enjoyed her company, but now he was forced to admit it. She’d always laughed at him, at what everyone thought him to be. She’d teased him and challenged him as much as he’d tormented her. What they’d shared had become so much more than childish games, but he had never known it until now.

This was a more inconvenient discovery than his sudden realization that Lian was pretty. When Jinhai showed up, Baozhen would simply have to kill him. And with his bare hands, too, though Baozhen had never been violent by nature.

“So, Jinhai slipped you a note telling you to come here?”

She didn’t answer. Instead she folded her hands in her lap and stared into the night.

“And when you saw it your heart began beating faster than it ever had. You read that letter again and again, keeping the precious paper hidden from everyone. Every time you thought of it you could hardly breathe, and tonight you couldn’t come here fast enough. It’s exciting to be desired like that.”

He faced her and willed her to look at him. She finally did.

“You’re probably a little frightened, as well.”

“I never realized the likes of you put so much thought into what happens to their many admirers.”

“I don’t. I never did—” Before.

The word was left unspoken and it was his turn to stare into the night. The rising moon cast silver ripples across the pond and he was stricken by a sense of loneliness. Every new face, every kiss was a novelty, a new adventure, but they all faded away when the slightest wind blew. He’d known too many empty embraces.

“You really believe you and Liu Jinhai are meant to be?” he admonished her.

Baozhen knew what that was like. He’d once thought his first love would be his only love. The only love possible in his overflowing heart. It was everyone’s rite of passage, but Lian was so sensible and Jinhai was such a... The scoundrel just wasn’t enough for her, and Lian should be bright enough to see it.

“Oh, Baozhen, you sound so serious.” She sighed.

“This is serious. We grew up together.” This was exactly the sort of conversation he was not good at. The serious ones. “I’m older than you. There are things I know from experience.”

Lian stiffened. “Are you saying you have a duty to protect me?”

“You have no real brothers.”

She made an impatient sound. “You of all people should know. Perhaps Liu Jinhai is not my other half—the summer to my winter, the dragon to my phoenix.” The lantern light gave her eyes a wicked gleam. “But at least he might like me enough to kiss me properly.”

Properly?

The wolf instinct took over and a lightning streak of fire shot through him. He reached for her and pulled her against him roughly. Lian grabbed on to his shoulders to steady herself before his mouth descended.

She made a startled sound as his lips pressed against hers. The moment he felt her yielding against him a fever streaked through him. He had known Lian all her life. If she wanted to flirt and kiss someone just to satisfy her curiosity it should be him.

And he had no intention of keeping this kiss “proper.”

* * *

The first touch of his lips stole everything from her. All strength drained from her limbs and every breath was surrendered to him. Baozhen was kissing her. Kissing her. But it was so much more than the brief meeting of lips he’d shown her in the courtyard. It was breath and body. The smell of him was so close. The roughness of his mouth was urging her own to yield, to open to him.

His arms tightened around her and his kiss was relentless. Magnificently so. She could feel the heat of him as he surrounded her. Her own skin had come alive...her senses were awake and sharpened, demanding more.

When he broke the kiss, she was gasping for air. Her heart pounded as if she’d run a hundred li.

“Baozhen...” She murmured his name, her voice filled with wonder. He’d devastated her.

“Put your arms around me,” he urged in a low voice.

Her hands gripped his upper arms, the crisp material of his tunic clenched in her fingers. Then she circled her arms around his neck as he pulled her fully onto his lap. His mouth captured hers again.

She sighed into the embrace. His palm traced a slow path down her spine before curving at her waist to pull her close. Their bodies molded together, soft against hard. If the first kiss had been meant to destroy her defenses, this second kiss was intended to savor the victory. Baozhen’s touch was confident as he tantalized her. With each caress her body responded, becoming flushed and swollen with pleasure.

So many nights trying to imagine what it would be like to be kissed. Not by anyone, but by Baozhen. She’d wondered if she’d know how to kiss him back, or where to put her hands. All those doubts fled in his embrace. He held her and guided her. There was nothing to do but feel.

He coaxed her lips gently apart and a tiny shock rippled through her at the touch of his tongue inside her mouth. Every muscle within her tensed, but she gripped him tighter, exhilarated. He explored her with just the tip of his tongue, inviting her to taste him in the same way. Before long she’d grown bold, reaching for him with every part of her, her body pressing against him. He was broader, harder, stronger than she’d imagined. And she ached with a fever more intense than any she’d ever suffered. An ache gathered low in her belly, in the soft place between her thighs.

Baozhen lifted his head and continued to hold her cradled against him, though they no longer kissed. In the dim light his eyes looked black and endless. He was breathing hard and she could hear each labored exhalation. Down below she could feel him hardening, and it fascinated her. This was the way a man kissed a woman he burned for.

“Your reputation is well-deserved,” she said in awe, barely able to find her voice.

“Don’t say that.”

He rested his forehead against hers. His skin was damp and flushed, though the night was cool around them. She didn’t say anything. She was too happy to think of words.

They stayed that way, folded around each other, for what seemed like a long time. Was she brave enough to try to kiss him now? She definitely, definitely hoped there would be more of that.

“We should go.”

Before Lian could gather her courage, Baozhen gently lifted her from him and back onto the bench.

The darkness hid her look of disappointment. She would have been content to stay there all night.

Baozhen held the lantern for her and they hardly spoke as they made their way back to their street. Lian couldn’t help glancing at him as they walked side by side. Every inch of her had become awakened and newly aware. She searched his face for some small sign that things had changed between them—that she was something more to him than the plain, skinny girl who lived in the next house over.

Baozhen turned to her as they neared the front gate of her house. He slanted her a half-smile that held unspoken knowledge and a shiver of pleasure coursed through her. She didn’t care if he’d given this sly look to a hundred other girls. He was looking at her that way now. Only her.

“No one is home yet,” she ventured as they came to a stop and he handed her the lantern. The light sputtered inside, the candle nearly spent. “They won’t be back for hours.”

She could see the walls of the Guo residence just beyond her house, and the thought of watching Baozhen disappear inside them tonight left a hollow feeling in her chest.

He ran his thumb over his mouth, swiping at the color that lingered there from the tint on her lips. There was something so masculine and assured about the gesture.

“That’s a foolish thing to tell me,” he admonished.

Heat rose up the back of her neck. How silly of her! She should have left him gracefully and then waited for Baozhen to come to her—but there had been so many times when she’d waited and watched from afar, hoping he’d turn away from his newest beauty just to notice her. Give her one little look.

Here she was once again—overeager and naive before him.

“Farewell, then,” she mumbled.

Hastily, she ducked through the gate without looking back. She couldn’t wait to disappear into her room and bury herself beneath her quilt.

A moment later she heard the sound of footsteps behind her and her heart leapt.

* * *

Lian. Foolish little Lian.

Baozhen followed her through the garden, appreciating the tapering of her waist and the slight sway of her hips beneath the thin robe she wore. He was discovering all those things very quickly. That she had a waist and hips, and a luscious mouth and breasts, and all the parts a woman held in her arsenal to bring a man to his knees. His blood pumped so hard he could barely think.

Lian was the most dangerous sort of woman. She was impetuous and passionate and she lacked any fear of him. She was also too innocent to know how this game was played, and too bold to play it with caution. If Jinhai had come to the park tonight, as Lian had intended, would it be a different wolf now following her irresistibly to her chamber?

Foolish Baozhen.

The courtyard was silent as Lian opened her door. She used the candle from the lantern to light the oil lamp inside, and Baozhen found himself for the first time in Lian’s sleeping quarters. He noticed how her hand trembled as she set the candle down.

He approached her slowly. “What did you think would happen here, Lian?”

Her chin lifted and her eyes met his, though he could see her gaze wavering slightly and the slight blush in her cheeks. She was trying so hard to be worldly.

“I thought we would kiss some more.”

“And did you really think that would be all?”

He was close enough to detect her perfume. She smelled of springtime and innocence, which was seductive in its own way. Her mouth was still flushed from his attentions.

“You know better than to invite a wolf into your home.”

“I’m not a fool,” she insisted. “And I didn’t invite any wolf. I invited you.”

“And if Jinhai had come tonight?” A flash of anger streaked through him, but he countered it with a smile.

“I don’t see Liu Jinhai here.”

“Indeed...”

He reached for the damned hummingbird pin and tossed it into the corner in one motion. Despite her bold words he saw her pulse jump as he lowered his hand to her cheek.

He caressed her with just the tips of his fingers, murmuring close to her ear. “You shouldn’t have asked me in, Lian.”

This wasn’t just another pretty girl. This was Lian—his neighbor, a friend. The little brat who’d grown up into a beautiful and willful woman. He had to be careful and not let things go too far.

Baozhen drew her against him and her lips parted instinctively, as if she’d been waiting for him. The shortness of her breath as he kissed her told him everything. She wanted the danger...this small step into the unknown. This taste of passion that she was pursuing with complete recklessness.

He trailed a caress along her arm and along the underside of her breast. For a moment he hoped she’d shriek in outrage and demand that he leave. Instead she pressed closer, and he knew without a doubt that her once thin and sharp angles had been transformed into soft, pleasing curves. Entranced, he cradled her breast in his palm, stroking his thumb lightly over the rounded nipple. He could feel it tightening to a hard peak beneath the silk robe.

A shudder ran through her and he caught her as her knees weakened. She wound her arms around his neck and did something too seductive to resist.

She spoke his name.

The sound of it on her lips was sultry and decadent. It was a bedroom voice that promised abandon. He stroked her other breast out of greed, just to feel the eager response of her flesh. His own sex thickened within his trousers.

Lian didn’t protest when he backed her onto her bed, nor when he worked the edges of her robe open. The bodice hidden underneath was a tantalizing flash of red, embroidered with a lush orchid pattern. The garment fit snugly over her torso, accentuating the swell of her breasts.

“You shouldn’t be letting me do this,” he taunted lightly as he lay down alongside her.

“Then you shouldn’t be doing it,” she countered, but it came out as a sensuous purr that nearly undid him.

He reminded himself that there would be no release for him tonight, but that didn’t prevent him from easing the edge of her bodice downward. His mouth closed around one pink bud and his tongue circled it hungrily. She writhed against him, making him burn. Her fingers tangled into his hair to hold him to her.

A rush of power and possessiveness filled his chest. He was drunk with the taste of her skin. Lian was his tonight for the taking, if he so desired.

To his surprise, Lian began fumbling at his clothes, trying to disrobe him. He shouldn’t have been so shocked. He had never known her to be shy—at least not with him. Her movements, though eager, were unpracticed, and that was what saved her. This wasn’t some carefree and nameless dancer or song girl beside him. This was Lian, and she wasn’t meant to be used for a night of pleasure.

He took hold of her hands just as she managed to open his tunic. With a wicked grin he guided them over her head. Her wrists were slender enough for him to pin them beneath one hand.

“If you move, I’ll stop,” he warned.

Her eyes were fixed on him and her pupils were wide and black with desire. Her breasts rose and fell rapidly, half-exposed. She had no idea what would happen next, but he could see how much she wanted to find out. His hold on her would have been easy to break, yet she lay back...waiting. Waiting for him to show her.

With his free hand he reached for her skirt, sliding the silk up over her knees. She continued to watch him, her breath coming faster now as she willed him to continue. Her legs were nicely shaped and her skin glowed in the lantern light. Baozhen slipped his hand beneath the robe, but he didn’t touch her yet. If she denied him then there was a small chance he could still be a gentleman about it.

There was no denial.

Lian closed her eyes as his hand settled on her thigh and followed the shape of it upward. She bit her lower lip in anticipation just before he reached her sex. His own heart stopped the moment his fingers touched against warm, willing flesh. His mind clouded with a thick fog. She was already damp. Heaven and earth. Elation surged through him.

In slow circles he deepened the caress, gradually initiating her to a man’s touch. He was rewarded when her knees parted instinctively and her hips arched against his hand. Her head was thrown back and her cheeks suffused with color. The look on her face was indescribable. He moved just the tip of his finger over her most sensitive spot and she whimpered and moaned perfectly for him.

He wanted more of this. So much more. Women were so beautiful, with all their hidden looks and mysteries waiting to be uncovered. And Lian was the most beautiful creature of them all. He quickened his strokes to intensify her enjoyment.

His erection had become painful, and the sight of Lian pinned beneath him only made it worse. He’d become a slave to her responses, to her small cries and the sensual churning of her hips. His singular purpose was to bring her to climax and take pleasure from being the one to bring it to her.

He closed his eyes and rested his forehead against hers, letting the sounds of her arousal guide him.

* * *

Lian was crying out shamelessly, but soon any sense of embarrassment faded in the wake of the most devastating pleasure she had ever known. She and the neighborhood girls had always speculated what exactly it was that happened between a man and woman, but she had never known it could be like this.

This was not romance or poetry, a flight of sparrows or a fall of spring rain. This was tawdry and base and she was rendered helpless against it. There was nothing she wanted more than Baozhen’s touch on her, inside her. She was completely at his mercy and she’d die if he stopped.

He seemed to know. He ground his body against her while he stroked her with wicked skill. His touch was lightning-quick, like the beat of a hummingbird’s wings. She gasped for air, her mind whirling as she fought for some way to tell him she needed more.

Baozhen had trapped her hands to keep her still, but it was no longer needed. She was ensnared by this rapture that consumed her. Her heart was beating so fast it would surely burst. He was whispering heated words into her ear. Love words. Gutter words. The blood was rushing so furiously through her head that she couldn’t make them out. She only knew that Baozhen was there—holding her, touching her.

He relaxed his hold on her wrists to twine his fingers with hers. “Soon,” he gritted out, and she wasn’t certain whether it was a command, a question, a promise.

A sob caught in her throat as the pleasure intensified to a nearly unbearable throb. She had never cried in front of Baozhen, but she was suddenly filled with desperate longing. She wanted without knowing what it was she wanted.

A short but endless time passed, and then her entire body and soul tightened to a single, blinding point. A flood of nameless emotion swept through her. She shuddered, lost between heaven and earth, filled with light and sensation.

When she found herself again Baozhen was reaching for her. He kissed her lightly on her cheek, her lips, the tip of her chin. Each affectionate gesture seemed wholly innocent after the lightning storm she’d just experienced.

But while her limbs were waxen and languid, Baozhen remained taut beside her. She’d thought he’d joke now, and say something to lighten the mood, but his expression was strained.

She didn’t have any experience in the bedchamber, but she knew enough to understand that this was not the end of things. His tunic was open, exposing a patch of sun-warmed skin and lean muscle, solid from labor and riding. It was enough to show her that Baozhen was as beautiful beneath his clothes as he was on the outside.

Pushing all hesitation aside, Lian reached for his trousers. Baozhen moved to stop her, but she refused to be denied. The knot at his waist fell open. She slipped her hand inside, running it along the flat of his stomach and downward to find him. Baozhen tried to push her away, but all the while his hips shifted restlessly toward her.

“No,” he choked out. “Lian, wait. You’re very beautiful...it’s very difficult to stop when—”

He was nearly incoherent before falling silent. Her questing fingers had encircled the male part of him. The skin was heated and incredibly smooth. Another mystery uncovered—and not at all what she had expected. Now he changed, becoming as hard as jade when she touched him. She could barely breathe.

“Baozhen,” she implored as she pushed the trousers down around his hips. “Please.”

He made one last feeble attempt to remove her hands, but his body was insinuating itself into her grasp, begging for her.

“It was you I was waiting for tonight,” she confessed. “It was always you.”

She didn’t know if he’d heard her, but he lowered her back onto the bed with sudden resolve and pushed her robe up around her hips. She was exposed scandalously below the waist, but there was no time for embarrassment to set in before Baozhen covered her with the length and breadth of his body.

He took only a moment to center himself, his fingers touching her down below briefly, before she felt the blunt press of his member between her legs. She looked up at his dark expression as he cupped a hand to the back of her neck, gripping lightly. His breath fanned hot against her cheek as he pushed into her.

The air rushed out of her in one sharp exhalation. The sensation was indescribable. Overwhelming. A moment of fear gripped her as he continued to fill her. She didn’t know what to do other than drape her arms over his shoulders. Her limbs became weak as the feeling of being invaded and stretched increased, sending unknown shocks through every part of her. Above her, Baozhen’s brow furrowed sharply, but he didn’t stop. She dug her nails into his back.

“Lian—” He spoke her name brokenly as he finally settled deep within her.

They were hip to hip, as close as two people could be. He remained still for a string of heartbeats before his body lifted. She thought it might be over—until he slid back in, shuddering with the movement.

She whimpered softly as he continued to move, his thrusts increasing in speed and forming a rhythm. His fingers tangled into her hair, a rough reassurance, and his mouth touched against her throat. Her body began to open for him, to accept these new sensations.

Before she could decipher what it was she was feeling—pleasure or pain—Baozhen’s muscles suddenly constricted. With a groan that came from deep within his chest he sank down onto her and laid his head against her shoulder: an odd position, considering he was much larger than her. He buried his face into her hair.

The enormity of what had just happened began to sink into her. They were on her bed, their clothes hastily shoved aside. The boy she had always wanted, now a man, was there in her arms. Baozhen shifted some of his weight from her and she became aware of the soreness where their bodies had been joined. She didn’t know what to think. The experience had been both confusing and exhilarating. Now everything was so...strange.

Baozhen lifted himself onto one elbow so he could see her. “I didn’t expect any of this.”

His voice even sounded odd, and unlike him. Heavy and uncertain.

“What happens now?” she asked.

Absently, he brushed a strand of hair from her eyes and then sat up. His movements were slow and deliberate and his expression showed he was lost in deep thought. He smoothed her skirt carefully back down over her legs before righting his own clothes. The silence became oppressive, and Lian couldn’t think of anything to do but watch and wait.

He moved to the edge of the bed, then paused to turn back to her. “What do you want me to do, Lian?”

She was at a loss. Why would he be asking her? He was more experienced than she was.

Before she could think of an answer the sound of voices in the courtyard stopped her heart. Baozhen straightened, his shoulders tensing.

“My parents!” she gasped.

Baozhen shot to his feet. His eyes darted to the door, the window, then back to her.

“Hide,” she said frantically.

“Where?” There was no place in her tidy room for him to fit.

“Are you feeling better, daughter of mine?” Her mother’s sing-song call came from just outside the door.

Lian was still struggling out of the bed when the door opened and there stood her mother, staring at Baozhen.

“Chen Furen,” he addressed her formally, his voice rasping.

“Oh, dear heaven!” her mother wailed, rushing past him to the bed.

“Mother, Baozhen was only—”

Lian’s words caught in her throat. Only...what?

Mother threw her arms around Lian and called for her father.

Baozhen looked sick as her father entered. Her father was tall, the cut and color of his robe severe, and he had his piercing glare fixed upon Baozhen. Her father was well-known as a force in the East Market and he appeared particularly imposing tonight.

“Mister Chen.” Baozhen managed a small bow.

Lian tried to extract herself from her mother, who was fluttering worriedly about her and cooing little assurances and endearments that were supposed to be soothing. Her father had never been violent, but she was certain Baozhen was about to be dragged away and flogged.

“Mister Chen,” Baozhen repeated, and he swallowed. His infamous honeyed tongue was thick in his mouth. “I must say...please understand...I hold your daughter in the highest regard...”

Her father raised his hand, stopping Baozhen in his painful admission. Baozhen stiffened as her father approached, as if preparing for a strike, but her father only put his arm around him and turned him to face the door.

“How is your father, my son?”

“My fath—? He’s well...sir.”

Something really, really bad was about to happen. Her father never showed when he was angry. He just grew overly calm and controlled. He was very calm now.

“It has been a while since your parents have come for tea,” her father was saying as he and Baozhen disappeared into the courtyard. “I think we shall see them tomorrow. The earlier the better.”

Lian turned frantically to her mother. “Tell Father that Baozhen didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Shh.” Mother ran her fingers through Lian’s hair, smoothing it away from her face. “Mother and Father will take care of everything.”

It occurred to Lian that her parents were home at an almost discourteously early time from the registrar’s party, and that her mother didn’t seem nearly as distressed as she had appeared only moments earlier. A sly smile even appeared on her lips as she pressed them to Lian’s forehead affectionately.

Chapter Four

Everything happened quickly. Now that “the rice was cooked,” as the expression went, there was no time to waste. The once-innocent Lian might be with child at that very moment. Honor was at stake. Both families could either lose face or celebrate a lavish union.

It was hardly a choice at all.

Within the week the necessary inquiries were made. The families were gathered. A fortune teller was consulted. Baozhen and his parents made a formal procession, bearing engagement gifts of tea and lychees, silk and jade. The parade marched all of twenty steps next door for the traditional tea.

Now Baozhen sat in the parlor of the Chen mansion with Lian directly across from him, eyes cast downward. The two of them remained dutiful and silent while their parents exchanged pleasantries. The entire time Baozhen watched the pink rising in her cheeks and thought of her flushed and glowing with her body tight around him.

He was still stunned. His body hadn’t yet recovered from the pleasure of their joining or the shock of their discovery. Theirs was certainly not the first marriage to be negotiated on such terms, he told himself. And he had to marry someday.

“This is fate,” his mother was saying to Lian’s mother, who nodded sagely.

But throughout it all Lian refused to look at him. She kept her head bowed and her gaze averted, as if they were indeed strangers bound together by the whim of a matchmaker. As if she needed to impress upon him that she was demure and innocent and pliant. All of which he knew wasn’t true. Well, except for her innocence—until he’d taken it in a moment’s passion.

Baozhen knew he should be sorry, but it was hard to be sorry when his pulse refused to stop hammering at Lian’s nearness. She sat just beyond arm’s reach, yet she might as well have been on the other side of the empire. The sullen look on her face twisted his stomach into knots.

He finally caught up to her as the engagement party started to disband. He’d had to make an excuse about using the privy—a request which Lian’s father had obliged with a knowing air. He found her at the far side of the garden, before she could slip away to the women’s quarters.

“Lian.” He took hold of her wrist when she turned to flee. “What’s the matter?”

She looked ill as she regarded him. Was it possible she was with child? Would the symptoms already be evident?

Gently, he pulled her behind the shrubbery in the garden. Almost the exact spot where he’d attempted a kiss just days earlier. “I know this isn’t what we expected, but we’ll do what we must.”

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and her face pale. “What’s done is done,” she said miserably.

Her words struck him square in the chest and he let her arm slip out of his grasp. His fingers had gone numb.

“You wanted Jinhai, didn’t you?” he asked coldly. “Maybe you still do.”

Her eyes flashed at him as she shot him a look like an arrow. This was the Lian he’d known all his life.

“I don’t care a thing for him,” she said bitterly.

“Then why do you look as if this were a funeral instead of an engagement?”

She was the one who had all but demanded he kiss her. He certainly hadn’t protested—but neither had she. And her skin had been so soft and her lips so pink. And he hadn’t been a virtuous man to begin with.

“Lian—”

The gray cloud in her eyes stopped him cold. Her expression was one of anguish. There was shame there, and regret.

“I didn’t think it would go that far,” she protested.

He hadn’t meant for things to happen this way either. There was just something about being so close to Lian and the touch of moonlight on them that night.

“We’ve known each other for so long,” he began gently. “This isn’t the worst of fates.”

He stepped toward her, ready to make promises. They would make the best of things. He would mend his ways. And he did, at the end of all things, care for her.

Lian shook her head fiercely. “No, Baozhen. You should know... You should know that Liu Jinhai and I haven’t only just met.”

Jinhai again. The sound of his name was starting to feel like a thorn in his eye. “What does that scoundrel have to do with anything?”

“We’ve met before,” she went on, looking more tortured with each word. “Long before. And Jinhai is a scoundrel. Completely unsuitable for me and he knows it. But he was willing to play along.”

Baozhen had held his hand out to her, but he let it drop now to his side, like a dead weight. “You care nothing for him?” he said dully, echoing her words.

She shook her head miserably.

“Then...?” He tried to piece together the fragments of the last week. Her sudden interest in one of his acquaintances...the rendezvous in the park...all the while taunting him—

“You little she-demon,” he proclaimed.

Lian didn’t deny it, but her expression was far from triumphant. “I never meant to trap you. I...I just wanted you to notice me.”

With that, her shoulders slumped, and she appeared at once both small and uncertain. Nothing like the scheming creature he knew her to be. Now her look of regret made sense. Lian had been responsible for all of it—every single moment.

Wordlessly he stepped away from her, forgoing a farewell as he turned on his heel.

His mind was spinning.

He might have had a reputation for having three girls in the morning and four in the evening, but it was all talk. Lian’s parents were known as the most skillful negotiators in the city and Lian was apparently as shrewd and clever as they were.

Baozhen might be a wolf, but he’d been completely ensnared by a fox.

* * *

Lian sat alone in an unfamiliar chamber, upon what was to be her bridal bed. She was still dressed in her embroidered wedding robes, though she had cast aside the ceremonial veil as soon as she had been led to the bed and left alone. The wedding banquet continued in the main part of the house, where Baozhen would be accepting good-natured toasts and fending off well-wishers before making his way to her.

The wedding procession hadn’t had far to travel earlier that afternoon. Only the mere twenty paces that separated their households. And yet Lian felt as if she had traveled a thousand li. She had often visited the Guo household, but Baozhen’s private chamber was unknown to her.

As the muted sounds of the evening banquet droned on she searched for signs of him. The furnishings were tidy, but not stringently so. A stack of books lay upon the desk. The fragrance of rosewood and cedar surrounded her, making her think of dark and distant forests and the remote places where Baozhen had traveled.

He had been beside her for the wedding ceremony, but she’d been prevented from seeing him by the red veil draped over her face. All she’d had to sustain her was the tug of his hand opposite hers upon the symbolic red ribbon that had joined them together. He’d been a silent, forbidding presence.

They hadn’t spoken a word since she’d confessed her scheme to him after their engagement. Lian was beginning to worry. Neither of them had expected to be married so hastily, and his last words to her had been far from passionate.

“What do you want me to do?” he’d asked. The heat of desire had faded and there had been nothing left but a sense of duty weighing down his shoulders.

It didn’t matter. What was done was done.

The minutes stretched into hours, during which Lian had nothing to do but sit there and try very hard not to think of how many girls her husband had kissed before her. Baozhen was staying away for too long. He had no business staying at the banquet and enjoying the festivities. Wasn’t an eager groom supposed to extract himself from his guests in a timely manner?

Finally the door creaked open and she shot to her feet. Baozhen stopped just inside when he saw her, and closed the door behind him. He was dressed in a heavy robe of blue brocade and his hair was covered by a ceremonial cap. Her heart pounded. She hadn’t realized how hungry she’d become over the last few weeks for the sight of him.

“Why were you away for so long?”

Lian cringed at the unintentional shrillness in her voice as he blinked at her in surprise. Her first words to her newly wed husband and they sounded like an accusation.

Her mistake was immediately evident. Rather than coming to her, Baozhen sank into the chair beside his writing desk. He leaned back to regard her, his shoulders tense.

“It was our wedding banquet,” he replied.

His flat tone left a hollow feeling in her stomach.

“Wine was poured, and then more wine. Everyone wanted to give us their blessings.”

“Have you had very much to drink?” she ventured.

He was in a peculiar mood.

His eyebrows lifted. “Are you worried that I won’t be able to fulfill my duties as a husband?”

This was all wrong. They had always been able to speak openly, but now every word between them seemed forced.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter, since the deed is already done,” she said tightly.

His eyebrows rose slightly, but he said nothing.

She went to stand before him, stopping just as her robe brushed the tip of his slippers. Her heart lodged in her throat. “You’re angry with me.”

The line of his jaw flexed as he tilted his head down to her. So handsome. He had never appeared so far from her reach. It wounded her to see him so withdrawn, tonight of all nights.

“You can’t be angry,” she protested. “This is our wedding night. It would... It would be a bad omen to start out this way.”

“You are forbidding me from being angry?” he asked incredulously.

Desperation grew within her. Her fingers twisted together as he continued to assess her, taking her apart with his eyes.

Was she going to be one of those shrewish, demanding wives? What sort of husband would he be?

“Tell me,” he began slowly. “And no more games. Did you lure me into your bed, Little Lian?”

His emphasis on her childish nickname was sharp and devoid of affection. Her breath caught as his gaze pinned her in place. She had always known how Baozhen could disarm anyone with his easy charm, but now she saw he was twice as formidable when he wielded this iron stare.

“Yes,” she said, fighting for her voice.

“Every step of the way?” he murmured.

“Yes.”

Lian had never intended to force his hand, nor put him through such shame and dishonor. Her parents had been supposed to be gone late into the evening. She’d wanted Baozhen to burn for her. To choose her above all the other women who had ever caught his eye. Now he had no choice in the matter and he resented her.

“I didn’t mean to trick you, but I refuse to apologize,” she said stubbornly.

His hand shot out and caught her around the waist, making her tumble in a squirming heap into his lap. His arms closed around her, making escape impossible.

He willed her to meet his eyes. A smile lifted the corner of his mouth. “I’ve never been pursued so ruthlessly.”

“You’re not angry?”

“At first,” he admitted. “But then I realized it was me you wanted all along. Me. I can’t help but be flattered at inspiring such deviousness in you. Seducing me like that.”

“You’re shameless,” she accused.

She braced a hand against his chest to push him away, only to find her fingers caught in his grip. His smile faded, along with any trace of smugness, as he searched her face. For the first time there was no more taunting.

“No more childish games,” he said.

Her reply was no more than a whisper. “I have only ever wanted you.”

He pulled her close, his palm cradling the back of her neck. His mouth captured hers and her fingers curled into the front of his robe from the sheer pleasure of finally being in his embrace. He tasted of rice wine and the faint spice of cloves. She was floating, flying...

Without a word, he lifted her from his lap and led her to the bed. She sat perfectly still upon the edge while he extracted the pins from her hair, one after another. Each touch sent a tingle down her spine. She could hear Baozhen’s breathing deepen as he tended to her. He smoothed the hair away from her face as it fell loose and her cheeks flushed hot at the stark intimacy of the moment. The near solemnity of it.

Baozhen touched her as if she were something precious.

Their first night together had been a fever. Tonight was a slow, simmering burn. She could feel each pulse of her heart as Baozhen bent to press his lips to her forehead. It was innocent—or rather a farewell to innocence. His next caress was at her earlobe, which he tugged at gently with his teeth, making her insides go soft and liquid.

“You were wrong, Little Lian...”

His voice was low, stroking her in hidden places.

“The deed is far from done. It will never be done between us.”

His mouth rasped over the sensitive skin of her throat and her toes curled restlessly within her slippers. Their bodies were interconnected in so many wonderful and mysterious ways.

“Baozhen...” She called out his name breathlessly, encompassing a plea within it that had no words.

“My wife.”

They kissed again. Any lingering questions faded like a morning mist. The moment was right between them.

She found the parting in his robe and her hands slipped inside to roam over skin and heated muscle. Baozhen didn’t stop her this time when she loosened his belt and slid the cloth away from his shoulders. The shape of him filled her hands: broad shoulders, arms that were lean and strong. There wasn’t any part of him that she didn’t want to explore and caress.

“Lian...”

His mouth curved against hers and she could hear a touch of amusement.

“You really aren’t afraid of anything.”

They separated as he shrugged his arms free of the robe, baring himself down to his waist. He caught her watching him. His eyes were dark, lit only by an almost dangerous gleam. Though her face heated, she refused to look away.

When they had made love before it had been furtive and rushed. She had only caught a tantalizing glimpse of what Baozhen looked like beneath his clothes. Her gaze slipped to the evidence of his arousal, straining against his trousers. Her mouth went completely dry. She really was shameless.

“Don’t stop there,” Baozhen said, his voice thick with desire. He guided her hands to the ties at his waist. Then he embraced her again as she worked the knot free and found him, willing and waiting for her.

Her first intimate caress sent a shudder through him. When she closed her fingers gently around his sex, his hand tightened possessively in her hair. He sucked in a breath as she slid her hand along his length. She loved what her every touch did to him. Every muscle in him was steeled and his breath became shallow. The heat from his skin enclosed her.

This was what it had been like when she’d lain beneath him, helpless with pleasure, but there was pleasure in giving, as well. Her own sex dampened in anticipation.

She grew bolder, gripping him harder when she saw that it only excited him more.

Suddenly Baozhen brushed her hands aside. He kissed her roughly, thrusting his tongue inside her mouth. Her mind went dark with pleasure and she could feel his hands deftly working at her robe. His skill was undeniable. Before long she was sinking back onto the bed, with Baozhen stretched on top of her, skin to skin. His tongue stroked wickedly over hers and she could taste him, feel his weight on her, his hands anchoring her hips. He was everywhere.

She moaned against his mouth as he stroked his finger between her legs. He had learned what pleased her—was learning still as he parted her folds and deepened his touch, making her writhe and tremble. Her hips twisted against his hand and her cries took on the sound of distress, of desperation.

As the sensation within her began to rise to an unbearable peak Baozhen once again gripped her hips. His head lifted and he met her eyes. His hair had slipped free of its knot and an errant lock fell over his face, giving him a wild look. They were discovering each other after so many years of growing up in close quarters.

There was a moment of stillness as Baozhen positioned himself. Lian’s chest rose and fell rapidly. His ragged breath formed an irregular harmony against hers, as if they had been chasing one another and the hunt was finally done. Done, but not finished.

Baozhen kept his eyes on her face the entire time as he entered her, refusing to relinquish her gaze even when she moaned and clung to him. Her body resisted for only a moment, and then her back arched as the length of him filled her in an endless sensation of penetration and surrender.

He began to move slowly over her. A sheen of sweat formed on his brow as his body lifted and lowered. It was different from last time. Now that she knew what would happen she focused on the feel of Baozhen inside her and let it consume her.

His hips shifted by the barest angle, but it was the difference between heaven and earth. Her lips parted with a gasp as a flood of euphoria swept through her from head to toe.

“Like that?” His breath was hot against her ear as his thrusts sent wave after wave of pleasure through her.

Lian held on to his shoulders and buried her face against his neck as their bodies writhed together, seeking oblivion. It was almost there—just out of reach.

She wrapped her legs around him and Baozhen groaned, his thrusts becoming shorter, deeper.

Soon. Soon, please, soon.

Her vision blackened as climax took her and she squeezed her eyes shut to revel in it. Baozhen was right there with her, letting himself go as soon as he felt the pulse of her body around him, falling as hard and completely as she had.

Finally his muscles loosened and he sank on top of her. For a few moments his weight was welcome, but soon he started to feel heavy and she tried to squirm out from under him. With a chuckle, Baozhen rolled onto his back and took her with him, settling her into the crook of his arm. She drew a lazy pattern over his chest, feeling warm and sated.

“Do you think our parents always wanted us to be wed?” Lian asked after a short silence. She had been enjoying the sound of Baozhen’s heartbeat against her ear.

“They must have gotten impatient waiting.”

She poked at his ribs. “Waiting for you,” she said ruefully.

Baozhen burst into laughter—a deep, rich laughter that filled the room.

“What is it?” she asked, but soon she was caught up in it, laughing as well.

She knew exactly what it was: chasing each other in the alleyway as children, Baozhen taunting her for being skinny, her aiming at him with her slingshot. All those moments...all those memories.

“I loved you from the first moment I saw you,” he said.

“Liar.” She settled back into the warm hollow of his shoulder now that he was no longer shaking with laughter. “You never noticed me.”

“But I did—I always did.”

She pouted a little. That wasn’t how it had happened at all, but all the frustration and endless longing seemed far away with his arms around her. Baozhen had always been there. Their lives intertwined.

“I can’t remember it any other way,” he said tenderly.

She snuggled close and followed the drift of his voice into sleep. All her memories blended together until it seemed there was truth in what he said.

“That’s how it was for me, as well,” she conceded, smiling at the thought of how mercilessly he’d teased her and how she had once hated him with a passion. “From the very first moment.”

* * * * *

THE TAMING OF MEI LIN

Sometimes it feels like it takes a village to put a story to paper!

Special thanks to the emergency brainstorming crew: Eileen Dreyer, Kimberly Killion, Patricia Rice and Karyn Witmer-Gow. And also the Tuesday critique group: Dawn Blankenship, Amanda Berry, Kristi Lea and Shawntelle Madison.

I’m a lucky girl to be surrounded by so many talented friends.

Author Note

In Chinese culture it’s natural to speak of ancestors as if they’re still present, looking over your shoulder to nod in approval at good decisions and frown over disastrous ones. The role of family is inescapable, ubiquitous and ever-present. Of course this is true for all cultures. Our family histories inspire and guide us.

Ai Li, the heroine of Butterfly Swords for Mills & Boon Historical Romance, constantly refers back to her ancestors and the importance of family honour. The Taming of Mei Lin takes place forty years before Butterfly Swords and tells that love story—the family story that’s passed down for generations to come. In order to create Ai Li’s story of rebellion and impossible love, I always had Mei Lin’s adventure in my head.

I was thrilled to be able to bring that story to life. The Taming of Mei Lin explores the humble beginnings of the Shen family, a line of warriors steeped in duty and honour and, most importantly, love. Writing Mei Lin’s tale allowed me to explore the delicate ways that the past affects the future. It was also an opportunity to tie two love stories near and dear to my heart together.

Contents

Dedication

Author Note

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter One

Tang Dynasty China, 710 AD

Mei Lin could feel the strands of hair slipping from her knot, tickling against her neck. Uncle made her stand outside during the hottest part of the afternoon, even when there were no customers. She wiped her brow and looked over at Chang’s tofu stand at the end of the street with envy. He at least had the shade of a tree to duck under.

If she planted a seed today, she reckoned she’d still be here selling noodles by the time the tree grew tall enough to provide shelter. And Uncle would still be growing fat, napping in the shade.

A tingle of awareness pricked against her neck. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see someone had stopped just beyond the line of the wooden benches. The stranger wore a gray robe, but that was the only thing plain about him. He had the high cheekbones of the people of the north and stood with his shoulders back, lean and tall. Unfortunately the town riffraff stood just behind him, grinning and poking at each other over some boyish joke only they found humorous. Mei Lin ignored them as she always did.

“Little Cho.”

The boy came eagerly running at her call. Her little cousin was not yet corrupted by his father’s laziness.

“Fetch the tea,” she said and he went running to the stove.

She turned back to the intriguing man. He remained at the perimeter watching her. He had a pleasant expression and seemed particularly still, as if supremely comfortable in this heat and in this world. She stood there with sweat pouring down her back wishing her hair wouldn’t keep falling over her face like it did. It was so rare that strangers came to their village.

He bowed. “Wu Mei Lin,” he greeted formally.

Even rarer that strangers came who knew her name. The smile she was about to give him faded into a frown.

“Little Cho.”

He had just returned with the teapot.

She blew a strand of hair away from her face impatiently. “Fetch my swords.”

The boy scrambled away, nearly tripping over his feet in his excitement. She turned back to the stranger.

“This is why you came, isn’t it?”

“When I learned of Lady Wu’s skill, I couldn’t help but come to pay my respects.”

He insisted on using her family name in an overly polite fashion. The onlookers chortled. The hated Chen Wang was at the head of the pack. Wang tended to stay away from her after she’d given him a black eye that lasted for a week, but he couldn’t resist the show.

“Well, then. Let’s get started,” she said.

Little Cho returned and handed over her short swords. She fixed her gaze onto the man before her. He had his weapons strapped to his side. She’d missed it in her initial fascination.

“I don’t mean to presume,” he began. “If the lady would like time to prepare—”

“There’s no better time. Besides, the rabble will be expecting a performance.”

She scowled at Wang and his lot as she brushed past. It kept her from having to look at him. Why did he have to be so tall and his manners so impeccable? And why was she so taken with this swordsman when it was obvious he was here to humiliate her, just like all the others?

“Little Cho, watch the shop,” she called over her shoulder.

“But, Mei Lin!”

She ignored the boy’s protest and kept walking. He shouldn’t be watching street fights at his age, impressionable as he was. Uncle and Auntie Yin had enough to complain about without her being a bad influence on her little cousin.

The swordsman caught up with her easily, keeping an arm’s length between them while they walked together down the dusty street. There was none of the posturing and swagger she’d come to expect from Zhou’s lackeys. From outward appearances, they could have been joining one another for an afternoon stroll.

“Those are exquisite.”

He was talking about the swords. Twin blades—short, light and quick. Many called them butterfly swords, but there was nothing delicate about them. They were ideal weapons for a woman fighting a larger opponent. Heaven forbid he’d look at her with the same interest.

She sniffed, but a thread of doubt worked loose inside her. He was the first to be interested in her skill rather than the novelty of this odd girl who dared to challenge men.

“You don’t seem like one of Zhou’s thugs,” she said.

“Who is Zhou?”

He sounded earnest; she wanted to believe that he wasn’t just another bragging oaf, here to put this stubborn woman in her place. She stole another glance at him. His black hair was pulled back and tied, highlighting his distinct features.

And he was handsome. She might as well admit it. Looking at him left her with the disturbing sense that she had lost something—something she desperately needed to find.

“You are not what I expected from what they told me.”

He was looking at her face now. A rush of heat flooded her cheeks. “What did they say?”

“That you were the meanest shrew in the empire.”

He smiled as he said it. His brown eyes were a shade lighter than what was common in this region. It reminded her of the golden wash of the sun over the mountains.

She knew then what she couldn’t find: her usual confidence that the fight was already won.

They reached the center of town where the main roads met at the market square. If Zhou hadn’t sent this swordsman, then he must have come on his own to challenge her. It had been two months since Zhou made his outrageous proposal, which she had countered with an even more outrageous declaration.

Zhou was a lesser magistrate of the district. He had proposed marriage after catching a glimpse of her at the noodle stand while he was passing through. Uncle and Auntie Yin had been thrilled that someone wanted to take her off their hands, but Zhou already had a wife. Two wives, in fact! She would be little more than a bed warmer and glorified kitchen maid.

She had announced publicly she would marry no man unless he defeated her in a fight. Her uncle and aunt were mortified, but she wouldn’t back down. Her parents had been poor, but proud people. It would offend their spirits to see their only daughter become some lecherous goat’s mistress.

Zhou dismissed her challenge as the ramblings of a madwoman. She doubted he could lift a sword, but his henchmen continued to bully her whenever they came by. Over the last few weeks, several strangers had wandered into town to goad her into a fight. She suspected they had all been sent by the disgruntled official.

She’d defeated all the country thugs and village boys who’d tried to teach her a lesson. But this swordsman was different. If Zhou hadn’t sent him, then he must have come on his own. Could news of her declaration have traveled beyond the dusty edge of town?

She turned to him. “Do you still want to do this, considering what a shrew I am?”

That half smile again. “I am not afraid.”

More townsfolk had gathered to see crazy Mei Lin and another one of her displays of rebelliousness. There was a moment of sadness when she squared off across from him. She’d become a spectacle. The only marriage proposals she ever received were these stupid challenges from scoundrels trying to show her up. One of these days, some brute would defeat her. Someone a hundred times worse than Zhou. She’d done this to herself.

“What shall the terms be?” he asked as he paced to the other side of the square.

Still so composed, his every movement measured and graceful. She should have been paying attention to how he moved, not how captivating his eyes were.

“We’re simple folk here. First blood should be good enough.”

She raised her swords while her opponent drew his weapon. The blade gleamed in the afternoon sun, the craftsmanship obvious to even an untrained eye. Even if she discounted the quality of the blade, she knew immediately this man was serious. There was a way a sword fits into the hands of a true practitioner, as if it were an extension of his body.

“You’re not even going to ask my name?” he said.

“Why bother? You’ll run from here in shame very soon.”

“Wu Mei Lin, the honor would be all mine.”

The way he spoke her name sent a shudder down her spine, despite the heat of the afternoon. Certainly he had come to see her out of curiosity, but could it be he was actually interested? He watched her so intently and his pleasant manners gave the impression he was actually enjoying the exchange. She wished they didn’t have this duel between them to confuse her.

He bowed, blade pointed downward, very formal. Like this was a sacred ritual instead of a street brawl. She looked down at her swords and for a moment they felt strange in her hands, as if she didn’t practice every morning and night with them.

Master always said she wouldn’t know her limit until someone pushed her to it.

“Now?” the swordsman asked from afar.

She tossed her hair out of her face. “Now.”

He waited, relaxed in his stance. She was nowhere near that patient. If she was to win this fight, she needed to know the extent of his skill, his level of intuition with the sword. She’d know all of that with the first cross of their blades. The touch of steel never lied.

She rushed forward and the swordsman never flinched. He lifted his sword and her first strike met against a solid wall of strength as the shorter blade clashed against the longer reach of his jian. The swordsman deflected in one fluid motion.

Disciplined. Small movements, no waste of energy.

She gave him no time to recover before snaking forward again, her swords seeking an opening through touch and tension. The cry of metal rang through the square and the crowd gasped. He was stronger than her, but there was guile beneath his force. His blade slipped past hers with a deft rotation of his wrist. He was testing her as well, exploring the boundaries between them.

They separated, but remained closer this time, dancing just outside contact range. Her heart pounded, cutting through the sluggish pulse of the afternoon. She was breathing hard, but so was he. His chest rose and fell as he watched her.

Wang laughed from the perimeter. “More than you expected, Shen Leung?”

A nervous flutter rose in her stomach at the sound of the name. It was a name they’d heard of even here in this small corner of the empire.

“Well, if I had known you were famous, I wouldn’t have insulted you—” she taunted him “—quite as much.”

Curse her wicked tongue. She couldn’t stop herself with the energy of the battle flowing through her like this.

Shen Leung wasn’t so easily distracted. He wiped his brow with his sleeve and circled her, his feet steady over the packed dirt of the marketplace. His presence filled the space with hardly any effort.

“Who is your master?” he asked.

“No one you know.”

“He must have recognized your natural ability. Few swordmasters will train a woman.”

The surge of pleasure at his words was dangerous. “What makes you think my master is a man?”

She attacked again. Talking wouldn’t resolve this and she wanted to get a closer look at his sword work, even if it was going to be her defeat. Shen Leung was magnificent with the blade and he moved with a confidence that made her heart race. There was a joy in being pushed to the edge by a worthy opponent. She hadn’t found such harmony since leaving her old home to come here.

“Stop being nice to her!” Wang shouted.

Shen Leung breathed through each movement. His eyes met hers. “I’m not.”

Only she could hear the reply amidst the sword strike. His voice was husky with exertion and his skin glistened with a sheen of sweat.

“You’re good,” he said.

She parried and twisted his blade aside. “I don’t need you to tell me.”

He grinned and pushed her further until she had to fight for balance. She wasn’t done yet. Boldly she ventured closer where his longer blade would be less effective. Most practitioners weren’t comfortable there, but Shen Leung found her rhythm and flowed with her. The edge of his weapon broke through her guard. She leaped back, knowing it was too late.

But he missed.

The blade whistled past her ear. She stared at him in shock while he regained his stance and prepared for another advance.

She had him. It had nothing to do with skill. They were closely matched in training, but there was so much more that went into a fight. The honorable Shen Leung was unwilling to hurt her. He didn’t realize it yet, but this battle was hers if she wanted it.

With her new confidence, she could see all the openings. A warrior had to be ruthless and strategic. That was what she had been taught. He became a series of targets in her eyes. All she needed to do was catch another moment of hesitation and she would break through.

And once she won...what then?

Someone else would come. Another one of Zhou’s henchmen now that he was bent on revenge. Or maybe no one would ever defeat her or care to approach her with a serious marriage proposal. She’d have nothing but this speck of a town and the noodle stand. Shen Leung’s arrival had broken through the clouds. She might never feel this way again about anyone.

They said he was a good man, a just and courageous one.

She decided then. She met his attack edge on edge, loosening her grip slightly with the impact of their blades, and the strength of his next attempt wrenched the hilt from her grasp. A collective murmur went through the crowd when her sword fell to the dirt. For a second, it almost seemed they had been cheering for her. Supporting the local madwoman.

Shen Leung’s sword darted forward to stop just shy of her throat. She grew still beneath his gaze. He regarded her with admiration and something else, a fire she’d never seen before.

He rested the tip of the blade gently against her collarbone, almost like a caress. “Do I need to draw blood, my lady?” he asked softly.

He had already pierced her, deeper than he knew.

It was Wang who broke the standoff. “Claim your prize, Master Shen!”

“Prize?”

The blade fell back. The exertion of the battle began to sink into her along with the oppressive heat of the afternoon. She wanted to wipe the perspiration from her face, but she didn’t dare move. She didn’t dare breathe as she watched Shen Leung’s reaction.

“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.

Chapter Two

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’d 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.