Читать книгу Silk, Swords And Surrender - Jeannie Lin - Страница 14

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.”

* * * * *