Burn (39 page)

Before his hands could make contact with her shoul
ders, Cinder initiated a front low kick. It landed in his
midsection, driving him back. She took two quick steps
and let her right leg fly in a high kick to Karl’s face.

P
erformed correctly, such a kick could deliver six hun
dred and fifty pounds of force. Cinder had no idea if her
kick was that powerful, but it was strong enough to send
Karl’s head snapping back, his huge body following. He hit the mat like a bag of wet sand.

“Point three and match, Vixen!” whooped Duff
Brownley.

The arena shook with cheers, applause, and rock
music. The Sheng Li contingent rushed the center mat.
Cinder leaped off the dais and into Gian’s arms. He
hugged her, kissing her as he whirled her in a circle.

“Finally, the warrior in you woke up!” Zae hollered
joyfully over the noise.

The same paramedic who had seen to Cinder’s nose
tended to the unconscious Karl while she and Gian led
the procession back to Sheng Li’s station. She looked into
the stands and saw so many familiar faces—Natasha, her
husband Kurt, and her daughters Jalesa and Danielle;
Zae’s children, Eve and Dawn and her son C.J.; Mama
Piasanti, Aunt Veronica, Pio and his family, and Lucia;
and Sheng Li students both old and new. They celebrated her success, and Cinder had never been more proud of
herself.

She took to the awards podium and graciously
accepted her gold medal. Next to her, on the second place
step, Karl still looked slightly dazed as the silver medal
was slipped over his head. Cory took the bronze to give
Sheng Li five of the top six awards in the tournament.

“We should go to Isis or someplace to celebrate,” Zae
said afterward.

“Sounds good to me,” Chip said.

“I’m a little tired.” Cinder smiled. “I’m gonna pass.”

Gian looked at Cinder, who sat a few feet away on the bleachers. Her gym bag stood open between her feet. Her elbows on her knees, she looked at her gold medal before
dropping it into the bag. As if she’d just finished another ordinary lesson with Gian, she spent a moment mopping
perspiration from her face and chest.

“What about you, Gian? You comin’?” Chip asked.

“No,” Gian answered. “I’ve got some business to tie
up with Pritchard Hok. You guys go and have fun. If you
end up at Isis, tell the manager to charge everything to my tab.”

“Thanks, boss,” Chip said.

“You should go with them,” Cinder told Gian as
Chip and Zae led everyone else out of the arena. “This
was a really big day for Sheng Li.”

Gian squatted in front of her. He zipped up her gym
bag and hung it over his shoulder as he stood. He took her hand, drawing her to her feet. She moved slowly, a little awkwardly. “The only thing I want to do right now
is get you home,” he said.

* * *

Gian took her home. To his home.

Too tired and in too much pain to protest, Cinder let
him open the car door and help her from the front seat of his SUV. Gian’s house, a multi-level contemporary,
was spacious and airy. The foyer led to an open floor plan
with the chef’s kitchen on one side and the living and
dining rooms on the other. Gian guided her into the
kitchen. He opened a door to set their gym bags in the
laundry room, then got her a bottled water. “You need to
hydrate, baby,” he told her. “Drink up.”

Cinder sipped a bit directly from the bottle.

“Have I told you how proud I am of you?” Gian
asked.

“About ten times. Do you think Pritchard Hok was
impressed?”

“I don’t care. I couldn’t have asked for better from you
guys. Whether Pritchard Hok sees it or not, I know I
have the best dojo in the world.”

Cinder smiled and nodded.

“In ancient times, when a warrior returned from
battle, he had attendants to see to his aftercare. Only his
most trusted, most loyal devotees were granted that
honor.”

“Makes sense,” Cinder said softly. She sat heavily on
one of the blond wooden stools at the center cooking isle.
“The warrior would have been most vulnerable after a tough battle. It wouldn’t do to have enemies creeping
around to take advantage of his weakness.”

“I want to take care of you.” He took her hand and
kissed the back of it. “Will you let me?”

Gian moved between her knees. She wrapped her arms around his neck. Her legs went around his waist
and Gian held her tight. She closed her eyes and rested
her head on his shoulder as he carried her upstairs. “I can
walk, you know,” she murmured.

“I know.” He didn’t put her down until he reached
the master bedroom. Gian set her on his bed, then
kneeled at her feet. He slipped off her sneakers and socks.
Cinder raised her arms to help him pull her tunic over
her head. She leaned back on the bed, lifting her hips, to
make it easier for him to tug off her pants.

He exited through a pocket door on the other side of
the room, and Cinder curled up on the big bed. The
fluffy comforter, cool and soft against her skin, cradled
her as she imagined a cloud would. Through his deep,
wide windows, Cinder sleepily gazed at the rich purples
and pinks of the setting sun.
I could sleep for a thousand
years,
she thought.

Gian had other plans.

“Baby, come on,” he gently urged. He took her hand
and walked her into the master bathroom.

Cinder paused, stunned. The room was huge, the
muted champagne, ivory, and hunter green color scheme
echoing that of the master bedroom. The centerpiece of
the room was a deep, wide tub recessed in the floor. A
built-in bench seat draped with thick, fluffy white towels
dominated the shallower end. The tub filled from the
opposite end, the water flowing from set-in fixtures that
lay flat against the tub wall. The tub was filling, but the
arrangement of the fixtures allowed it to do so silently. Centered above the tub, three big, square skylights pro
vided a full view of the gorgeous twilight sky.

“Gian, your home is so beautiful,” she remarked as he
peeled her sports bra and panties from her.

“It’s missing something,” Gian said. He helped her
into the tub and sat her on the bench seat.

“What’s that?” She leaned back, letting the water take
the weight from her joints.

“You.”

Smiling, she closed her eyes. On his knees at the edge
of the tub, Gian lathered his hands with a citrus-scented
soap and worked them over her shoulders. His strong hands kneaded out the tightness before moving to her
upper right arm. By the time he lifted her right leg to
massage the weary muscles of her thighs, Cinder was
half-asleep and half-drugged on the pure pleasure of
being cared for so thoroughly.

She let Gian wash her hair, her scalp receiving the same attention he had given the rest of her body. He
rinsed her from head to toe, then bundled her in a big
white towel. Back in his room, he laid her on her belly
close to one edge of the bed.

Gian wasn’t sure if she was asleep or not, but her eyes
were closed with no movement behind her eyelids. Her head pillowed on her forearms, she didn’t stir when he
eased onto the bed, straddling her upper thighs. He took
a small bottle of oil from the pocket of his jeans, where
he’d kept it throughout her bath to warm it. He poured
a small quantity of the oil into his palm, then set the
bottle on his nightstand.

Gian dribbled the oil along her spine, then began
working it into the muscles of her back. The faint scent
of ginger and camphor rose with each stroke of his hands
as the warmth of her skin activated the oil meant to
r
eplenish and heal her skin. He was careful with her hips
and shoulders, where bruises were blooming.

Her legs received special attention. He massaged
them long and hard, getting rid of the lactic acid that
would otherwise lead to soreness and cramping later on.
Leisurely, Gian saw to every part of her, even her fingers
and toes. When he was finished, he lay beside her, his
right elbow propping up his head.

The waning light of the sunset left soft strokes of
color on her bare body. She was as lovely as a Rodin
sculpture. Gian found that if he squinted, he could blur
out all of her scars, leaving her body absolutely perfect.

He ran his fingers over a long, smooth line of scar
tissue curving from under her right breast to her back.
He’d seen enough war wounds to know that something
very sharp had made the cut. He counted seven more
similar scars of varying lengths, even one across her left
buttock, and he marveled that she’d managed to survive
the blood loss that would have resulted from such
wounds.

“My warrior,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to her
head. “My queen.” He smiled, a hard surge of love for her
moving through his heart. “My wife.”

Cinder stirred. She rolled onto her left side to face
Gian. “Was I asleep long?”

Gian shook his head. “About an hour. You needed it.
You had a big afternoon.”

“Gian . . . thank you.”

He hooked a finger under her chin and stroked her lower lip with the pad of his thumb. “For what?”

I
t took her a moment to figure out how to articulate the reason for her gratitude. He had given her so much
more than knowledge. Respect, confidence, friendship,
passion—by giving her those things, he’d given her a new
foundation for her life. She couldn’t string together the proper combination of words, so she cupped the back of
his head and drew him in for a kiss.

His right arm went around her; she rolled onto her
back, drawing him half atop her. Gian’s mouth came
down on hers. Delicately, and with patience sorely tired by the massage he’d given her, he kissed her, the ache deep within him flaring. He rubbed her lips with his,
nipping and sucking at the lower one, determined to
make her ache as he did.

Cinder’s tongue met his and he groaned, sampling the succulence of her mouth. His tongue craved the
warm, wet heat of her mouth just as another part of him
craved the warm, wet heat between her legs, and he posi
tioned that solid weight on top of her. She widened her legs, thrusting upward with her hips to feel him there, at
the entrance to the emptiness yearning to be filled.

Gian’s lips moved over her as his hands had, covering her with kisses that stoked the fire deep within her. She
pressed her head into a pillow, bringing Gian’s head to her left breast. He framed the soft globe in his hand,
holding it in place to sup at her nipple. It hardened,
lengthening with each pull of his lips. She kneaded and
pinched her other nipple, multiplying her pleasure until
Gian saw to it.

Her right nipple peeked between the fingers of her
right hand, and Gian needed no further invitation. He
turned his attention to it, lapping at it between her busy
fingers while slipping a hand between her thighs. His
longest finger parted her lips, circling the sensitive flesh
there without nearing the hooded treasure straining for
contact. Cinder moaned and arched against him, mutely
pleading for more.

Gian didn’t give it to her, instead taking her breasts and bringing them together, to suckle both nipples at
once. Cinder cried out and pounded the bed with her
fists, her hips still seeking the creature coiled behind the
fly of Gian’s jeans.

He wanted to take his time, to love her with the same
patience and thoroughness with which he’d cared for her body after her bath. With Cinder tugging at his shirt and
kissing him with the abandon of a succubus, he couldn’t
make himself wait another moment longer. With her help, his shirt and jeans came off quickly. His sports
briefs and socks soon joined them on the floor.