Alanna (When Hearts Dare Series Book 2) (14 page)

“Ah, bullshit. And just where do you intend to sit?”

“Any place I choose. You’re the honored guest, so you’re the only one with any particular designation tonight.”

“Then you’d better sit across from me so I can follow along with whatever you do. I had dinner with the Dakotas once. An invitation by demand, shall we say. Thought I was going to be their next trophy when I didn’t know enough to—”

Wolf spied Alanna standing close to the tall, curly-haired man that Wolf had seen in the courtyard. “You go on. I’ve got someone I need to bring to dinner.”

He strode boldly across the room to Alanna, hooked a finger in her belt, and tugged her toward the mats. “Time for celebratin’, darlin’.”

She stiffened. “What do you think you are doing?”

Wolf chuckled. “Don’t even think about stopping me with your high kicks and deadly punches. You’ll only look the fool insulting your honored guest.” The air fairly vibrated with his wild mischief.

“What brought that on?” Her countenance was suddenly passive and remote. More training?

Ignoring her comment, Wolf halted at the right of Old Chinese. With his fingers still hooked in Alanna’s belt, he sat, taking her with him—all the while nonchalantly assessing the food laid across the mats.

Thompson crossed his long legs in front of him and picked something round and brown off a tray. Wolf’s stomach turned. “Tell me those aren’t snails.”

Old Chinese shoved a jug of rice wine in front of him. “A few glasses of this and anything will look appetizing.”

Wolf grabbed a piece of chicken instead—at least he hoped it was fowl of the barnyard variety—and proceeded to enjoy the evening, including a stunning demonstration of
Kendo
, the powerful art of the sword. Long after the presentation concluded, the air still crackled with the energy of the display. He still hadn’t figured out what trained warriors were doing in Boston’s countryside.

Alanna rose and filed past what was, by now, a room full of noisy men filled with rice wine. She glanced back at Wolf, a half smile on her face, the smooth sway of her hips tightening the muscles of his own. She’d drunk as much rice wine as any of them and was headed for Old Chinese’s magnificent water closet appointed with all the latest conveniences, thanks to a clever windmill and gravitational water flow system. Where would she go off to sleep when the night ended? Surely, she wasn’t housed with all these men? Was she? What did her parents say? Surely . . .

Wolf turned back to Old Chinese. “Alanna tells me most of your teachings and the weaponry is of Japanese origin, yet you are called Old Chinese. Why is that?”

When Wolf’s question went unanswered, he let out an exasperated breath. “I guess I’ll get the answer when you’re good and ready to tell me, so I’ll ask you something else—how do you manage all this with Alanna’s overprotective parents?”

Old Chinese tossed a chicken bone he’d picked clean onto a growing pile and licked his fingers. “Manage what?”

“You know what I mean. Alanna’s parents don’t let her sneeze without reaching for a handkerchief. How is it they allow her out here, of all places?”

“Of all places? Do you not find my home to your liking?” Old Chinese refilled Wolf’s glass and slurped from his own. “I am pleased you like my rice wine.”

“You didn’t answer my question. It’s obvious Alanna knows her way around here, so she’s no stranger. How is it her parents condone her coming here?”

Wolf made a point to look up and down the long line of noisy males. He paused to stare pointedly at Curly
—
the sobriquet he’d given the tall, curly-haired Westerner, who had yet to take his eyes off the staircase Alanna had climbed.

With a deliberate turn of his head, Curly stared at Wolf with stoic calm.

Wolf threw his head back and downed the rice wine. He thumped the empty glass on the table and returned his attention to Old Chinese. “I’ll get right to the point. Hers is not ladylike behavior, nor is tonight a social-climbing endeavor that would snare her parents a place on Boston’s social register. And dare I mention the fact that she is the only woman surrounded by at least thirty men?”

He held his mug out for another refill from the urn Old Chinese controlled. “When it comes to those incredibly
charming
parents of hers, not a bit of this fits.”

“Oh? And how does this not fit?”

“Oh, for God’s sake. Her father nearly keeled over with me aboard ship. And that was with her mother breathing down my neck at every turn.”

“Ah.” Old Chinese shook his finger at Wolf. “But
these men
are not
you.
” He bent forward and went nose to nose with Wolf. “When there is no mutual connection, there is no
thought
of mutual connection.”

Wolf took a long swallow of wine and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “I can see why the Malones would want their daughter out here so she can’t sabotage her own wedding, but she’s obviously been training with you for years. That’s another thing I don’t get.”

Old Chinese picked up another leg of cooked fowl and gnawed on it. “Alanna’s father wanted her to learn a little of the martial arts in order to protect herself, and her mother was told Alanna’s training would ease the pain of childbirth, which had been a near tragic endeavor for Mrs. Malone. I taught her father what he knows of the arts, well before his daughter’s birth. He was a lazy student, but with Alanna, I found an intelligent apprentice, one who long ago was able to discern the deeper aspects of Budo; it is much more than a way of beating someone senseless. Her pending marriage is the only fly in the ointment of the plans I have for her.”

He wiggled the half-eaten drumstick at Wolf. “An added benefit is that teaching Alanna out here keeps her secluded and well away from men like yourself, another of the Malones’ concerns.”

“Such as myself? But what of all these men?”

Old Chinese went to work on the chicken. “The Malones don’t know I have any students other than Winston over there.”

“Sweet Jesus!” Wolf shot a glance at Winston, the tall, curly-haired man, who was busy splitting his time between observing Wolf’s every move and eyeing the staircase. “What about him? Has he been with you long?”

“Since he was two.”

Wolf scowled. “And her parents have trusted him and you alone with their daughter all these years?” Something definitely didn’t add up.

A shroud of mystery suddenly engulfed the old man’s countenance. “Her personal safety has been seen to.”

Alanna returned and sat beside Wolf. He reached up and brushed a loose tendril from a corner of her weary-looking eyes and tucked it behind her ear. He let his hand slide, feather-soft, down her back.

Winston studied them with an unwavering gaze.

 

 

“Sleepy?” Wolf’s husky voice skittered along Alanna’s spine, as effortlessly as his fingers slid down her arm. “I much prefer sitting next to you to sitting across, as I did for so long aboard ship.”

Despite fatigue, her body responded to his tender touch, to the sound of his voice. By mid-evening, she had already given up trying to subdue her involuntary reactions to him. When he was sitting so close, every nuance, every flutter of his gilded lashes made her breath catch, while his occasional touch jolted her and sent tremors through her. Early on, she’d become aware that although he talked with the others, his attention was focused mostly upon her.

Throughout the entire evening, he refilled her wineglass, and when his fingers brushed against hers, the effect was like a flame to a powder keg. He leaned over to whisper questions, and his soft lips lightly touched her ear—
Sweet Heaven
.

Without preamble, Old Chinese stood. Thompson sent a silent signal to Wolf that he should also rise and incline his head to Old Chinese. The older man bowed and walked away.

 

 

The students quickly gathered plates and platters, stacked the mats in a neat pile and exited in silence. Only Wolf and Thompson remained.

Where the hell had Alanna gone?

Wolf’s mood sank. He surveyed the room. Someone had made a bed on a thick mat. For Old Chinese? Oil lamps had either been extinguished or turned to their lowest settings. The room was spotless, the fire pit aglow.

A hushed, almost reverent quality pervaded the barn’s interior. Thompson unhooked a lantern from a nail on the wall. “You’re to remain here with Old Chinese. I’ll see you in the morning.” He exited down the stairs, as quietly as had the others.

Silently, Wolf slipped over to the window. A glimmer of lanterns evaporated into the night. Had Alanna gone with them? Oddly tangled sensations fragmented Wolf’s thinking. He turned from the window wondering,
What next?

Alanna emerged from behind the gilded Oriental screen that hid the bathing tub. She carried a rolled mat and blankets balanced across her arms. Wolf’s head roared with new blood and his mood lightened. He started forward to assist, but she ignored him and dumped everything in a heap beside the fire pit.

When she disappeared behind the screen once more, Wolf’s eyes narrowed as he squinted through the shadows. Confounded, he waited.

In a few moments Alanna reappeared, dressed in a flannel sleeping gown, her hair still in a braid. She carried another armful of blankets and, never looking his way, made her bed not ten feet from where Old Chinese lay facing the wall and snoring.

“And a good night to you, too,” Wolf muttered, his mood falling once again. Damned if he knew the protocol. He turned and made his way over to the fire pit, where the other bedroll lay, some thirty feet from Old Chinese and Alanna. He glanced one last time through the shadowed room to the darkened corner where she lay.

He felt suddenly and utterly alone.

Removing his jacket and stock tie, Wolf loosened his hair and went to crawl beneath the covers, fully clothed. With a flare of rebellion, he disrobed and climbed in nude.

He lay there, staring up at the firelight’s faint shadow play. Thinking. Feeling. And taking long, slow, deep gulps of air to try to quiet the mounting tension of his driving needs. Her presence was so thick in the air, she might as well have curled up right beside him. He was unnerved by an insane desire to simply get up, walk over to where she lay, and drag her to his bed.

The whole of the evening, with her sitting next to him, had seemed so right—so natural. It was as though she had always been beside him. It must be the time spent together on that confining ship that made him feel so.

Visions of her father, his fist to the wall, veins at his temple bulging with rage, filled Wolf’s head. And then there was her mother, Mrs. Bumblebee, shaking her parasol at him. Their eyes of stone and ice contrasted with visions of his relatively comfortable life before sailing—San Francisco with its noisy streets and busy wharf; St. Joseph and the barmaid he’d left behind with her sweet infatuation. Life had been a helluva lot easier before he’d boarded that damnable ship.

What in God’s name was he doing here—and why?

“Get up, you bag of bones!” Old Chinese, chipper as a morning warbler, kicked at Wolf’s ribs.

Wolf rolled away from the wicked jabs and squinted at the thin winter light sifting through the window. Somewhere, a rooster crowed. “What the hell time is it?”

A mass of hair tumbled about his throbbing head. He moved to rise on his haunches, only to spy Alanna’s toes mere inches away. “Christ Almighty.” He flopped back onto his naked stomach, bunched the covers around his hips and glared at Old Chinese, who appeared every bit as fresh as he sounded.

He picked up Wolf’s clothing and examined the shirt cuffs and inside jacket pocket. “Why do you have your initial embroidered all over everything? Is it so you can remember who you are after a night like the one you just had?” He puffed up his chest and laughed until his eyes crinkled shut.

A crisp white something landed next to Wolf with a soft
plop
. On closer inspection, he recognized the uniform everyone wore, only with a white belt.

“This is called a
gi
.” Old Chinese tossed Wolf’s clothing in a heap out of reach. “More comfortable when you work.”

Alanna calmly dragged one of the only two chairs in the room to Wolf’s pallet and sat sipping from a steaming cup. She was also garbed in crisp white and acted as perky as Old Chinese.

Wolf decided the wisp of a smile playing about her mouth was because she knew his head was giving him fits. He could kiss that smirk right off those lips in less than a minute. Despite his pounding temples, lascivious thoughts skittered through him and landed in his groin.

She raised a brow, as if she knew what had just occurred.

He bent a knee to try to relieve the sudden discomfort. “All right, I give up. You two had as much to drink last night as I did, so what’s your secret?”

“Ha!” Old Chinese gave a hearty laugh. “You must learn to drink our ceremonial rice wine with expanded
ki
.”

Wolf rubbed his hand over his face and blew a hank of hair off his cheek. He had to piss. He was naked. And Alanna sat not three feet from him. “I’m not in the mood for one of your goddamn lessons. Get out of here so I can dress.”

Old Chinese picked up a skinny pot from the edge of the fire pit, poured steaming liquid into a mug, and handed it to Wolf. “Ki is what keeps your heart beating and your lungs bellowing. I would suggest you learn how to use the energy to your advantage.”

The acrid odor of the liquid in the cup gripped Wolf’s sinuses like a whiff of hot vinegar. “What’s this, the devil’s brew?”

Old Chinese sniggered. “Don’t ask. Drink. Then take a walk in the cold air. Perhaps then you will gain enough incentive to learn about ki.”

Alanna left without a word, giving Wolf the privacy he desperately needed.

Within the hour, his head cleared and his energy returned to normal. The drink had worked magic. But Old Chinese was right; its foul smell and taste were motivation enough to learn whatever it took to steer clear of the disgusting stuff again.

To Wolf’s irritation, when it came time for the first lesson, the ever-silent Winston climbed the stairs with Alanna. They carried a full-length cheval mirror.

“You will be taught
kenseido
,” Old Chinese announced. “It is a Japanese martial art form combining the external elements of karate and kung fu with the internal qualities of aikido and jujitsu.”

Wolf snorted. “I know hand-to-hand fighting intimately. Learned it from the Arapaho.”

Old Chinese ignored the mockery. “Alanna and Winston will be your teachers as well as your partners. Step to the mirror and choose your first partner, please.”

Wolf assessed the two standing before him. Alanna—female, slender, and shorter than Wolf. Winston—male, taller, and broader in the shoulder. “Is there a trick to this?”

When Old Chinese didn’t answer, Wolf chose Winston.

Old Chinese nodded his approval. “Stand side by side and observe one another through the mirror. What is it you see that is the same between you?”

Wolf grew wary. Choosing the obvious could prove mighty embarrassing. He studied Winston’s reflection. “We’re both males?” He stiffened, ready to wince at a scolding—or laughter.

“Good!” Old Chinese clapped his hands.

Curious as to Alanna’s reaction, Wolf ventured a glance in the mirror at her.

“No!” Old Chinese yelled. “Focus on Winston.”

Wolf’s heart pumped out old rebellion. He didn’t have to put up with this bullshit. He could always inform the son of a bitch he was going back to Boston with Thompson.

Cynicism got the best of him. He couldn’t resist naming similar body parts such as arms, legs, and mouth. To his surprise, Old Chinese responded with zeal. Winston grinned at one of Wolf’s more colorful descriptions of the male anatomy.

He lifted a brow. “Whoa, Winston has a sense of humor. Who would’ve thought?”

“Exactly—who would’ve
thought
?” Old Chinese sprang to his feet. “You are figuring out who Winston really is. Once a person learns of the similar and dissimilar aspects of the core of another, he has no enemy.”

Old Chinese paced the floor, his eyes glittering like diamonds on midnight velvet. He rattled on for a good thirty minutes. The powerful energy he exuded and the nonstop information mesmerized Wolf.

Finally, Old Chinese plopped down on the floor. “Tell me what you see that is different between the two of you.”

“I think we have different personalities.”

“Now change your sentence from ‘I think’ to ‘I feel.’ ”

Another trick? Wolf rolled his eyes and started over. “I
feel
that we have different personalities.”

A new set of emotions—somehow more intimate—flowed through Wolf.

Damn!

His cheeks heated, and he stepped away from the mirror. The mere shifting from one word to another had filled him with a sense of vulnerability. Whatever edged into his awareness just then, whatever flowed through his feelings rather than his thoughts, seemed to change the very air in the room as well. Hell, when was the last time he’d referred to anything or anyone using that word?

A faint smile flickered past Old Chinese’s mouth.

Wolf fisted his hands on his hips and sucked in air. “What was that? Is this the ki you speak of?”

Old Chinese gave a small nod, as if in deference. “Already, you have learned much.”

“I didn’t learn anything, it just happened. I wouldn’t know how to do it again. Or would I?”

“You struck a balance between thinking and feeling. Your ability to distinguish between the two allowed you to transcend two opposite worlds for a moment.” The smile played at the corners of the old man’s mouth again. “You have done such on your own before, in various ways.”

Wolf shrugged. “Up to a point, I suppose. I can feel something in a room shift whenever I end up in a precarious position. That’s when my instincts take over.”

Old Chinese nodded. “Also when you make love to a woman. Especially when you reach your climax—that’s when you are able to suspend all thinking, and just feel sensation. You are good at that particular method of getting in touch with your feeling nature.”

A buzz shot through Wolf. “Christ Almighty! It’s one thing to talk like that in front of Winston. But Alanna—”

Old Chinese ignored Wolf’s protest. “Feminine energy is gentle nurturing—that is your feeling nature.”

An overwhelming urge to check Alanna’s reaction gnawed at Wolf. God, get this over with.

“Male energy is when you take action.” Old Chinese grinned, making Wolf want to squirm once again. “You gain ultimate power over an enemy when you use your feelings first to seek out his weakness and then take aggressive, male action afterward.”

Wolf crossed his arms over his chest, and stepped back. “I get the idea.”

A husky chuckle came from Winston’s throat.

Wolf glared at him. “You think this is funny? You son of a bitch.”

Winston merely cocked a brow, chuckled again, and fell silent.

“Now then,” Old Chinese continued. “Look in the mirror and using the feeling word, ask Winston to do something for you.”

Wolf stepped back to the mirror. He damn well knew what he’d like to say to the man. Instead, he peered at Winston’s reflection and chose something simple. “I feel like having a drink of water.”

Winston trotted over to the jug in the corner and returned with a full glass. Wolf emptied the contents. “Thank you.”

Winston nodded and turned back to the mirror.

Wolf could no longer keep the frustration from his voice. “So what’s the almighty lesson here?”

Old Chinese moved behind the men and shoved his face between them. “Winston has been deaf since infancy.”

“Huh?” Wolf spun to face Winston.

Winston’s black eyes sparked with fresh humor.

“He reads your lips,” Old Chinese said. “He feels vibrations through the floor and in the air. He can hear better with his other senses than you can with your two good ears. Winston is my best student, and if you are wise, you would make him your ally.”

Wolf heaved a sigh. “Damn. I’m sorry.”

“No need to be,” Winston said in an odd, off-key voice.

“Now, then.” Old Chinese clapped his hands together and sat again. “It is Alanna’s turn in the mirror.”

As Winston stepped aside, Wolf decided Old Chinese’s quick changes of pace and constant assaults on his emotions were important parts of the lesson.

While Alanna and Winston switched places, Wolf became acutely aware of yet another shift in the room. Seeing that Alanna and Winston exuded two different kinds of energy came easy for Wolf. However, standing beside her, looking in the mirror at their side-by-side reflections, and at the likeness of their blue eyes rimmed in black, jolted him.

Blood hammered in his ears at this new perspective. The powerful vision had a disquieting effect on Alanna as well—her cheeks flushed a dusky rose.

“Now then,” Old Chinese began again. “Alanna, tell me what is different between the two of you.”

Both Alanna and Wolf shot fast glances in the mirror, surprised that Old Chinese addressed her and not Wolf. The color in her cheeks flared. Old Chinese sat calmly in position, his legs crossed, staring into the mirror.

Alanna’s eyes locked with Wolf’s. He let the smile working the corners of his mouth fill with the promise of delicious sin.

Her chin lifted. “I feel he has the manners of an ass.”

Wolf let out a bark of laughter.

Old Chinese clapped his hands in delight.

Wolf tilted his head at Alanna. “Ever heard the word ‘subtle’?”

“No!” Old Chinese yelled.

Wolf turned back to the mirror. “Don’t forget, my turn is next,” he said through his teeth.

“No!” Old Chinese scolded him again.

Wolf smirked. He knew that was coming, but teasing her was worth getting his butt chewed out.

“I
feel
he is uncaring of another’s feelings,” Alanna went on. “I
feel
he does not know how to care about anything or anyone other than himself. I
feel
he wouldn’t recognize his best interests if they were snakes crawling up his legs.”

Wolf’s brow shot up at her unexpected answers. He swallowed a curt reply. Old Chinese sat calmly observing him through the mirror, but the depth of the man’s obsidian eyes shot right into Wolf’s soul. Chills ran the length of his spine. What the hell was the old man trying to teach him? He wondered what time it was; he was growing weary of the odd lessons. Thompson intended to return to Boston before noon—with Alanna in tow.

“It’s barely nine o’clock,” Winston said and walked off.

Old Chinese clapped his hands together. “Time for tea.”

Instead of joining them, Wolf slipped below to the horses. Ten minutes alone with the beasts and he regained some of his composure.

When they resumed the lessons, Old Chinese called on Alanna once again.

“Time for Alanna Malone’s lesson again?” Wolf murmured when he got close enough. She stood facing him, motionless, as though ice water ran through her veins.

Old Chinese clapped his hands together. “Move closer, you two, until you can feel one another’s subtle body energy. Stay fixed on the eyes. They are the windows to the soul. Focus deep, and they will tell you in four seconds what is going on inside the person and what he or she is about to do. Every four seconds, move closer.”

Every nerve in Wolf’s body jumped to the surface of his skin. He broke position and walked away. Thrusting his hands on his hips, he stared at the floor. “What the hell is ‘subtle body energy’?”

When Old Chinese failed to respond, Wolf threw his hands in the air. “I give up—I’ll figure it out on my own. And what the hell does any of this have to do with solving my . . . with solving my business problems?”

“You shall soon see,” Old Chinese said quietly.

Wolf took his position in front of Alanna again and stared into her cold eyes. He counted the four seconds in his head and moved closer, a little at a time. The energy around them suddenly shifted, as though he’d slipped into denser, warmer air. The hair on his arms rose and his lips tingled. He paused and shot a glance at Old Chinese, who gave a small nod.

Concentrating, he inched closer.

An involuntary desire to sweep her into his arms flooded him. Sweet Lord, they were working, not loving. He stopped his movements and felt her presence run through him.
Her scent.
There was far more to this than catching the enticing fragrance of a woman and wanting to take her to bed. Nonetheless, the flame that lit his loins refused to die.

He stepped away from her and turned his back to the others. “This did
not
happen when Winston and I stood here.” Such arousal was only supposed to happen when he wanted it to—in private. He took a couple more steps away from her and glued his eyes to the floor, feeling pathetically vulnerable. “Let’s move on to another lesson.”