Authors: Mary Jo Putney
But how to engage that desire? Troth thought hard as she made her way back to the sleeping chamber. Kneeling on her blanket, she turned her back to Kyle and reached under her tunic to unfasten the wide bands of fabric that flattened her chest. She felt his gaze as she slowly unwound the cloth. When finished, she massaged her breasts to stimulate the flow of blood through cramped flesh. Ah, yes, he watched, and dreamed of what might be…
She turned to face him, her tunic draping provocatively over her newly female body. Seeing that his gaze was riveted to her, she untied her queue and shook her head to loosen her hair before combing her fingers through so it fell in a straight, shining mass down her back. "Sometimes I become so tired of having my hair pulled back."
His gaze was not that of a dispassionate friend. Swallowing, he looked down and spread his blanket for sleeping. "Understandable. I find the wig uncomfortable, too."
The energy was pulsing through her like a great heartbeat—female yin energy, strong and sure of its power to attract the male yang. She closed the space between them with slow, confident steps as she prepared to convince him they should become lovers. "I enjoyed sleeping with you last night." His hand clenched on his blanket. "I enjoyed it, too, but it would be wiser to sleep separately tonight."
"Wiser for whom?" She knelt beside him on the blanket. When he looked up, she leaned forward and kissed his open mouth before he could utter more protests.
His arms slipped around her waist and he pulled her hard against him. As the kiss deepened she clung to him, intoxicated, yet sensing that he was not so lost to passion as to forget his blasted gentleman's code. Her fear was proved when he ended the kiss and sat back on his heels.
"You are a dangerous temptress," he said with a twisted smile. "But nothing has altered since last night, my dear girl."
She tilted her head, allowing her hair to cascade over her shoulder. "My understanding has changed. You are too serious, Kyle. Because you loved deeply and were terribly wounded by your loss, you fear the risk of wounding me. I honor your kindness, but will you be terribly insulted if I say that I won't fall in love with you?"
Instead of being offended, he looked intrigued. "How can you be sure of that? Is there some Chinese wisdom here that I don't understand?" She caressed his cheek with the back of her hand as she lied. "I know my heart. If I were going to love you, it would have happened by now. But I like and trust you as a friend, and I find you most attractive." She skimmed her hand downward, featherlight over his chest. "It will be frightening to travel to England. I will be stronger, I think, if I have experience of passion. You would do me a great favor by lying with me."
"You're trying to tie knots in my thinking, and doing a damned good job of it." He caught her hand, preventing further caresses. "But virginity is treasured by many men. So great a gift should be given to your beloved, not a mere friend."
She smiled as she felt the power of his longing. His body wanted her even if his mind still resisted. "A 'mere' friend? Denying me is proof of your integrity. Suitors might try to beguile me with lies, and without experience of men I might believe them. Far wiser for me to first taste passion with a friend who wishes nothing but my good."
He took her face between his hands, his blue eyes troubled. "There is nothing I would like more than to make love with you, but I don't want you to ever suffer regrets."
"I will have no regrets," she said with absolute truth. "But I swear that if you hold to your
Fan-qui
notion of honor, I will have regrets to my dying day."
His clasp tightened around her face. "You win, my dear girl. You've tangled my brain and willpower like a skein of yarn." He stood and caught her hand to raise her into an embrace, mouth to mouth, body to body, heat to heat. This time he was wholly present, as committed to intimacy as she. She caught her breath as his hands slipped beneath her tunic to circle her breasts. Gods, she had not known what pleasure there could be in touch!
As she whimpered from the sensations that blazed through her, he stripped off her loose undertunic and trousers, then removed his tunic so that her breasts crushed into the warm flesh and soft hair of his chest. "I'd wondered what sort of figure lurked behind Jin Kang's garments. You are even lovelier than I dreamed."
This time she believed his words, for there was passion in the lips that closed over her nipple. So gentle, so careful, yet she could feel the fierceness of his leashed desire.
For a moment he stepped away. She opened her eyes to see him laying out their blankets together to warm the cool stone floor. Then he drew her down to their bed and stretched out beside her. "Troth," he murmured into her hair. "Mei-Lian. Though you've lived as a man, you are pure woman, supple and strong and beautiful beyond words."
"What… what should I do?" she said unevenly, her hands restlessly running through the hair on his chest.
"Simply relax and tell me what pleases you. Another time…" He laughed a little. "Well, there are other lessons beyond this one." His lips found shocking sensitivity in the hollow of her throat and along the edge of her jaw before his mouth claimed hers again.
Hazed with passion, she obeyed him and became a creature of reactions, her choked sounds of pleasure revealing how each of his caresses pleased her more than the last. Where their bodies touched, she could monitor his desire, could feel the flex of his muscles as he rigidly restrained himself. His warm palm stroked over her belly, arousing her unbearably. Desire coiled inside her so tautly that she gasped when his hand slipped between her thighs.
He stopped immediately. "Does that upset you?"
Her nails bit into his shoulders. "No! No, please, don't stop." Gently he resumed his intimate caresses, so sure and knowing that she could scarcely bear it. She was all fire, burning, burning…
She moaned, clinging to him as her body exploded with a pleasure beyond any she'd ever dreamed. Ah, gods, the only greater pleasure could be when he released his control and they took flight together…
Rapture subsided, leaving her panting with her face buried against his shoulder. "That was… a good beginning," she said unsteadily. He still wore his loose undertrousers, so she slipped her hand under the waist in a tentative search for the source of the hard heat pressing her thigh. He caught her hand again. "Let us sleep now. It's been a long day." Her eyes shot open and she stared at him with astonishment. His face was sheened with perspiration, but his expression was calm. He'd planned all along to go only this far and no further.
"But what of you?" She yanked her hand free of his and cupped that fascinating source of male energy. "Would you deny me the opportunity to give back pleasure?"
He froze, except for the heavy throb against her palm. "You've learned some of what you wished, I think, yet nothing irrevocable has been done." She didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "My lord Kyle," she said severely. "Stop being so damnably noble."
His face lit with sudden laughter. "You're right—I take myself far too seriously. It's not as if I'm so irresistible that all women must fall in love with me."
"Then let us come together as friends, without too much seriousness." Heady with relief, she gently squeezed his organ. It reared urgently against her hand.
He sucked in his breath, then roughly pulled off his loose trousers and positioned himself between her legs. "My dearest Troth," he breathed before he kissed her. His tongue caressed hers even as his heated shaft slid moistly against her most private places with an exhilarating friction. "It is you who are irresistible."
To her amazement, passion flared anew under his caresses. Yearning became need until she was frantic to end her emptiness. "If I am so irresistible—stop resisting!"
He captured her words with his mouth, and entered her with one slow, powerful thrust. She'd heard there was pain the first time, but she felt only a quick stab that vanished in a torrent of mind-searing sensation as he filled her, then found the rhythm of her pounding heart.
Her nails scored his back as she rocked into him over and over.
This
was the meaning of yin and yang, male and female, separate yet whole only when joined together. They were partners, equals, consumed in each other…
She bit his shoulder as she convulsed uncontrollably. Yet despite his ragged breath and plunging body, she sensed that he had not taken flight with her.
As her tremors began to subside, he withdrew and wrapped his arms crushingly around her. Then he climaxed against her belly in hard, shuddering bursts as he groaned, "Mei-Lian, dear God, Mei-Lian…" Sadly she recognized that even in the throes of passion he would not let himself make a baby casually with a woman who was not his mate. Though it was another mark of his honor, she mourned for the absence of that final intimacy.
She must not complain, for already she had more than she had dared hope for. The goddess had been generous to her petition. She licked his shoulder where her mouth had marked his salty skin. "Thank you, my lord."
He smiled. "It is I who must thank you. What an incredible gift you've given me."
"Why did you call me Mei-Lian?"
"I suppose… because it is your most secret name," he said thoughtfully.
"A name suited to the greatest intimacy a man and woman can share."
"As Kyle is your private name?"
"Exactly. In all the world, only my brother and sister still call me that." He kissed the tip of her nose. "And now you."
"Not your father?"
"My mother did—the name Kyle is Scottish and used in her family. But I was Viscount Maxwell since the day I was born, so my father always used my title."
He stroked the length of her torso with such tenderness that she wanted to weep. Though his heart was unavailable, he was the gentlest and most thoughtful of lovers. What a lucky woman his Constancia had been to have known the fullness of his love.
As her breathing steadied, she wondered how many times they might lie together like this. A fortnight, perhaps, while they traveled to Hoshan and then to Macao? Not enough, never enough. Perhaps they could continue to couple on the voyage to Britain? That would take at least four or five months, longer if the winds didn't favor their ship.
No. She must not delude herself. This rapture must end when he was among his own people again. All she had was tonight and a handful of days beyond. She must make the most of them.
He fell asleep slowly, wanting to savor the feel of Troth in his arms. He'd not felt such contentment since before Constancia had fallen ill. Friendship might not be the same as love, but it was obviously a better foundation for intimacy than lust or a commercial transaction, no matter how elegantly the latter was disguised.
When he awoke, he reached for her sleepily and discovered she was gone. It was dawn and objects were dimly visible in the pale light. Since the grate still blocked the exit, Troth had to be near.
Suppressing a yawn, he rose and pulled on his undergarments, then fumbled his way up to the shrine. There he found Troth dancing in front of Kuan Yin. Barefoot and clad as simply as he, she glided across the stone floor with heart-stopping grace, her movements fluid as a willow in the wind. Her hair was still unbound, and it swirled and floated around her with every step. Shadowy in the low light, she had a magical beauty that was not of the earth he knew.
She floated into a slow turn that brought her around to face him, radiance in her expression. He felt a deep pang knowing that that exaltation should have been for another man, one who could love and cherish her as she deserved.
Yet she was a woman grown, in many ways wiser than he, and the night before she'd made it clear she knew exactly what she was doing. Given her strange half-life in Canton, she'd needed to embrace her femaleness to build strength for her new world. It was his good fortune that he'd been her choice for teaching one of life's great lessons.
Seeing him, she sank into a bow. "My lord."
"I'm not your lord, but your friend." He caught her hands and raised her to her feet. "What kind of dance was that? I've never seen anything like it." She smiled. "Not a dance, but tai chi—exercises for balancing
chi
energy. Ever since I was a child in Macao, I've done tai chi and
wing chun
almost every morning in the gardens. Sometimes Chenqua would join me for two-person exercises and sparring."
"Good God. How very energetic before breakfast." No wonder she was in superb physical condition. "Do the exercises really make one feel more in harmony?"
"Oh, yes. If I don't do them for a few days, I begin to feel out of sorts."
"It sounds like something I would benefit by knowing. Can you teach me?"
"You'd really like to?"
"Right now, if you don't mind teaching me."
"Then we'll start with the patterns that make up a simple form. This one is called 'repulse monkey.' " She began to glide backward, her whole body in motion and one arm sweeping up in front of her, palm out. "A monkey confronted by a tiger escapes by putting a paw on the tiger's nose while he retreats. As the monkey moves back, he alternates paws, keeping his enemy at a distance."