My Fair Concubine (21 page)

‘Dao said you were a giant to them, that you could do no wrong.’

He laughed at that, reaching up to rub at his shoulder. ‘Like I said, children.’

Fei Long didn’t realise how easily others looked up to him. She’d seen it among the servants of the household and even the actors in the Pear Blossom Garden. No matter how much he distanced himself, people were drawn to him. She was drawn to him as well, hopelessly so.

‘Dao told me you were flawless that day.’

‘She’s mistaken.’

‘You’re being humble,’ she admonished.

‘Humility is a virtue.’ He rotated his arm in small circles, wincing slightly.

‘Here, let me help.’

Yan Ling forced herself to sound casual, but her throat went dry. She moved around behind him before her courage slipped away. Holding her breath, she placed her hands on his shoulders.

Fei Long lowered his arm and grew still, but didn’t protest. She ran her hands over his back, curving over hard muscle and sinew. Her touch was gentle at first, tenuous. With each breath, her hands became more confident. She roamed over the span of his shoulders. His muscles were knotted into tight, unrelenting cords.

How many times had she wanted to do this while they were together in the study? Every time Fei Long had set down a letter to rub a hand over his temples, she’d imagined being bold enough to go to him.

‘No wonder the arrows aren’t hitting. You’re so tense here.’ She worked her thumbs in small circles near the base of his neck. Her pulse leapt as her fingertips grazed the back of his neck. Skin to skin. It was a wonder to be able to touch him.

‘Maybe I make you nervous,’ she teased.

‘I don’t get nervous.’ His reply sounded strained.

She sank down further onto her knees and closer to him. She used the leverage to increase the pressure, rubbing at his neck and shoulders in earnest. A single breath filled him, then released slowly. She paused to absorb the shape and feel of him.

She swallowed to regain her voice. ‘Better?’

He didn’t say anything. His head tilted up and down as he nodded. A breeze blew by. A few figures appeared at the other end of the park, but she didn’t care. They were alone together in the great city.

‘Yan,’ he said finally. ‘Inspector Tong sent a message to the house yesterday.’

‘I know.’ Her hands slipped from him, lingering for just a second at the base of his neck. She stared at the contours of his shoulder blades through his robe.

‘Not much longer now.’

‘Don’t you think about that,’ she said harshly. Fei Long prohibited all talk about his recovery. She could refuse to talk about Khitan. ‘Just focus on what needs to be done.’

‘Hitting the target,’ he murmured.

He picked up the bow and stood. She would have hoped to see the legend suddenly emerge, but it was more of the same. Fei Long still struggled to hit the centre, but there was a definite change. He didn’t seem as displeased with himself. She didn’t know if that was progress or not.

When the quiver was empty once again, she walked ahead to collect the arrows. As she returned, she saw Fei Long as a lone figure in the field of green. He had set the bow aside and stood completely still, not moving.

‘Are we returning now?’ she asked.

He turned to her slowly, his expression weighted and grim. She didn’t know why, but her heart started pounding and her breath became short. She couldn’t read anything in his demeanour. There was a storm cloud of warning about him and she could feel his gaze searing into her.

Fei Long nodded once. Yan Ling moved quickly to where the horse was tied. Something was coming and the weight of the inevitable hung over them. The warmth of the day transformed into an unbearable heat.

She slipped beneath the shade of the trees and bent to set the quiver down. As soon as she straightened, Fei Long was there. Her heart jumped from the shock of his nearness.

‘I would give it all up,’ he rasped.

She must have heard wrong. Her throat closed so tight she had to fight for the next breath.

‘I would give it all up for you,’ Fei Long said again, stronger this time. She staggered back a step as he came forwards. ‘Yan Ling.’

He closed the distance between them. His hands came around her waist and his eyes darkened with an unfettered hunger she had never seen. Their bodies brushed as he pulled her close.

‘What are you saying?’ Her hands were trapped against his chest. She didn’t know whether to flee or cling to him.

‘You don’t have to go to Khitan.’

She heard the words from his lips, then again in her mind, but they wouldn’t sink into her, no matter how many times he repeated them.

He lowered his head and she waited for the kiss to descend, but it didn’t. Instead he touched his forehead to hers. For a few precious moments, he didn’t do or say anything. She closed her eyes and listened to the cadence of his breathing.

Their nearness became a torment as she flushed with heat. Her fingers clutched at the front of his robe to pull him closer. Fei Long leaned in, his lips caressing restlessly over her cheek before seeking out her mouth. She opened her eyes to capture the moment.

The first touch took hold of her like the crash of a wave and her knees weakened. He parted her lips, willing her surrender with the sensual exploration of his tongue. She moaned softly as she returned the kiss that was quickly becoming so much more. He tore away her cap and dug his fingers into her hair while his mouth continued to take her.

It wasn’t long before he was backing her deeper into the cover of the trees. Not long before his hands secured themselves against the small of her back and she was being guided down. Soon she was lying with her shoulders flush against the cool grass. The coarse blades tickled against the back of her neck and she could see fragments of blue sky between the branches above.

Fei Long leaned over her. His face, so familiar now, filled her vision. Masculine and beautiful in its harshness. He captured her mouth again, one hand cradled at the back of her neck to lift her to him. His other hand was braced against the ground beside her shoulder, securing her beneath the weight and pressure of his body. As if she’d ever want to escape.

When he broke the kiss he was breathing hard. She watched the path of his fingers, shivering as he delicately traced the line of her throat, then moved down to play along the boundary of cloth and skin.

She swallowed, suddenly aware of her disguise and the strange picture they must make. ‘I look so funny right now.’

‘I don’t care what you wear.’

He parted her clothes, pushing aside the material with long, confident fingers. She held her breath as he curved his palm over her breast. His touch heated her skin. He watched her face as he stroked gently with the pad of his thumb. Her eyes closed as exquisite pleasure filled her. When he stroked again he was not so gentle—and her mind went white with sensation.

She exhaled in a small gasp, her back arching willingly. Her hips lifted until they brushed against his. In response, he pressed his full weight upon her. She could feel him. All of him.

His mouth sought her throat where he tasted her first with his tongue, then the sharp edge of his teeth. She shuddered as he devoured her. There was nothing reserved about Fei Long out here. He’d left his careful detachment in the confines of the study. This passion was for her, and her alone. She curved her arms around him and dug her nails into his back to urge him on.

He broke away to reach for her sash. His eyes grew black and distant as he tugged at it. The look was one of anguish. Her insides clenched. The ache of her desire transformed into a darker sort of pain.

‘Like this?’ she challenged softly. ‘Here?’

His hand stilled on her waist, unable to answer, looking lost and confused. His chest heaved as he stared into her eyes. Desire flared as he came to her once again. He stroked his tongue into her mouth, claiming her. The fierceness of it both frightened her and set her toes curling. Her skin flushed and her vision darkened with sensation. She embraced him desperately, savouring this heated touch because she knew it couldn’t last. She could taste the desolation in his kiss.

She pulled away and the shock of the loss made her weep inside.

‘Come away with me,’ he insisted.

Her eyes burned. Finally, everything she had yearned for, all the words he would never say, but she already knew her answer.

‘No.’

‘No?’ He took hold of her hand and held it to his chest so she could feel his heartbeat pulsing against her. ‘Yan.’

She had to be strong. ‘We can’t.’

‘You and I can leave—’

‘And give up everything? Your very soul?’

Yan Ling realised why she had been so frightened of the change in him. It was surrender she’d seen in his eyes and she couldn’t bear it. Fei Long had only allowed himself to come to her from the edge of defeat.

‘What of your family name?’ she went on. ‘And your home?’

His arms were still wrapped around her, but the warmth between them had drained away. ‘Those things are already lost,’ he said. ‘I won’t lose you as well.’

His hands fell away the moment she pushed at him.

‘My lord.’ The formal address was her shield. She distanced herself physically as well, crawling back away from him. ‘You’ll have us run away, then, like Pearl?’

His expression hardened—his shield. He couldn’t answer her. Even if he were willing to forget everything he held sacred, she couldn’t do it. They would be abandoning Dao and Old Man Liang. The entire household. Fei Long would be abandoning himself.

She knew what kind of man Chang Fei Long was. If she went with him, he would come to resent this decision. In time, he would resent her as well.

He let his hands fall by his sides. Desire still lingered in his eyes. Her own arms were hugged tight around herself, trying to keep her broken spirit from spilling out. For a few reckless heartbeats, she wanted to go with him anyway. If he asked her again, she didn’t know if she could hold back, but Fei Long didn’t ask.

He rose to his feet slowly, straightening his robe. She did the same, turning away from him. Neither of them spoke of it, but they decided to go home on foot with Fei Long leading the horse along by the reins. They didn’t touch as they walked through the criss-cross of city streets.

At one of the main intersections, Yan Ling’s pulse quickened as Fei Long reached for her, but it was only to pull a strand of grass from her hair.

Chapter Twenty

D
ao stood beside the open wardrobe, pulling out robes and shawls and scarves in a rainbow of silk. All Yan Ling could do was sit on the bed and stare at the wooden trunk set between them. She was a lady again with embroidered slippers on her feet and jewelled pins in her hair.

‘None of these belong to me,’ Yan Ling protested. She had folded up an armful of robes, but no matter how much she packed away, Dao seemed to produce more.

‘You have to look like a princess when you’re in Khitan. Besides, there’s no one here to wear them either.’

‘You should have them.’

Dao made a dismissive sound, but then she reconsidered. ‘Maybe this one,’ she said, holding up a pink gown with a design of snow-white cherry blossoms.

‘That one looks beautiful on you,’ Yan Ling replied absently.

As far as Dao knew, the day had begun like any other. The interlude at the park had never happened. Fei Long had never asked her to give up everything and go with him. He hadn’t kissed her in a way that made her eyes close and her toes curl.

It was hard to concentrate when all Yan Ling could think of was that she’d made a mistake. Folding the garments was a mindless, routine diversion, but soon the clothes were gone, all packed away, and her mind was left open and wandering.

Dao went to the dressing table while Yan Ling went to gather all the practice papers from her lessons in the study. They were nonsense really, random passages that took on special significance now that the coveted lessons were over. She spotted the sheet where Fei Long had written out her name in a series of perfect tiny strokes. She could still hear the timbre of his voice while he had stood beside her that day.

‘What is this?’ Dao demanded.

Yan Ling jerked her head up to see Dao peering into her sewing box. Quickly, she folded the paper and tucked it into the pocket in her sleeve.

‘Is this supposed to be a
tiger
?’ Dao held up the pair of felt shoes.

Yan Ling had forgotten about her horrible embroidery work. ‘No, that must be a picture of your father,’ she replied sweetly.

Dao narrowed her eyes. Yan Ling batted hers.

‘They were supposed to be wedding gifts for my barbarian husband. Tigers represent strength and good fortune.’

‘You can’t present these. Khitan will be insulted.’

‘Do you think the slippers might spark a war?’ Yan Ling asked without shame.

Dao did not look amused. Her peach-shaped face scrunched into a frown. ‘Are you trying to make trouble, Yan?’

‘I meant to buy new ones. You don’t think Khitan will send me back for my lack of skill with a needle, do you?’

‘Come on. Let’s get to the market before the afternoon gong.’

Yan Ling pulled a purple shawl from the trunk and followed Dao to the door. ‘I’ve been wanting to step outside. It feels so confining indoors today.’

‘Why?’ Dao shot her a glance over her shoulder. ‘Wasn’t your morning outing enough for you?’

Her heart skipped. So they hadn’t been as discreet as she had thought. ‘Enough
you
. You would have been very proud of me this morning.’

If she could joke about the morning, then it must be bearable. If she could laugh, then it couldn’t tear her heart out.

Fei Long was not in the courtyard. She didn’t expect him to be, but as they went through the gate, she wondered what it would be like when she was taken far away. Would she irrationally search for him, seeking him out with all her senses? She had a feeling she would continue to do so, even once they were too far away to ever find one another.

* * *

Fei Long knew it was Yan Ling from the quickness of her step and the urgent, yet intimate way she tapped on the door. What he didn’t know was why she had come, when he was certain she would spend the next few days avoiding him after what had happened that morning.

‘Yes, come in.’ His voice remained steady, his pulse did not.

She slipped inside, her silk skirts rustling against the edge of the door as she shut it behind her. ‘Can we speak for a moment?’

‘Always.’

He set his brush down and went to her. She looked up at him nervously and he was glad for it. He didn’t know why she’d come, but he had certain hopes.

‘My lord,’ she began.

She had changed her mind.
His heart thumped against his chest feverishly.

His throat went dry. ‘Yes?’

They were standing beside the door, yet neither of them made a move to be seated. The pearl ornament in her hair distracted him more than it should have. Yan Ling had come to him combed, pinned and dressed in silk. She had looked prettier in the grass in a plain robe, with his arms around her.

She seemed flustered. ‘They’re talking about it all over the marketplace,’ she said in a single breath.

‘Talking about what? Did someone see us?’ Fei Long realised he didn’t care one bit if anyone had seen them.

‘No, not
that
.’ She skirted away from him, blushing furiously.

‘What then?’

‘The archery contest. They’re gossiping all over the tea rooms and in the shops, too, about an unknown champion.’

He should have known. He paced a few steps away, rubbing a hand over his jaw. ‘This is Zōu’s doing.’

Zōu had promised his name would be kept secret. It was supposed to be a small gathering with private wagers. Clearly the Bull wanted to increase his take.

‘It sounds like everyone will be there,’ Yan Ling went on. ‘There was talk of court officials coming as well—ministers and functionaries.’

They would all be there now that Zōu was publicising it. Though wagering was supposed to be illegal, archery contests were too popular to resist. Fei Long couldn’t be seen consorting with a crime lord. It defeated the whole purpose of saving face.

‘It’s good that you came to tell me,’ he said. ‘I’ll think of something.’

She nodded. Her fingers worked at the edge of her shawl nervously. He wished she didn’t look like a rabbit waiting to flee.

‘Is that all you came for?’ he asked gently.

‘Yes, that’s all.’ But she was still there. ‘You seem better now…than before,’ she ventured.

‘You mean now I’ve regained my senses?’

‘Yes.’ She swallowed. ‘You appear calmer.’

Yan Ling was anything but calm. The moment he approached, her breathing visibly quickened. Her lips parted and her skin flushed pink. He liked that.

‘I’m thinking much clearer now,’ he agreed.

The corners of her mouth fell. ‘I’m happy to see it, my lord.’

She made no effort to hide her look of sorrow. Yan Ling assumed that the walls of cold formality and self-denial were back between them. What she didn’t realise was that walls that had fallen so hard could never be recovered.

When she ducked her head and murmured some excuse to leave, all it took was a slight shift of his position to halt her retreat. ‘How many hours have we spent in here?’

‘I don’t know, my lord.’ Her eyes were veiled as she regarded him. ‘I didn’t count.’

He’d kissed her only once in this study, but had thought of it many, many times. Yan Ling had all but seduced him, merely because he’d come close enough to smell her perfume. If he tried to take her in his arms now, she might succumb, but it wasn’t what she truly wanted. It wasn’t what he wanted either.

At least not all he wanted.

‘Thank you for your concern,’ he said.

He held the door open for her and watched her disappear out into the parlour before closing it. He could be cruel as well, as cruel as she had been in the park that morning. But Yan Ling’s cruelty was the kind that had opened his eyes. He knew what he had to do.

Fei Long pressed a hand to his ribs to ease the throb building there. His mind and spirit were determined, if only he could will his body to obey.