Burning Tigress (39 page)

"Well, yes. Always whenever you're not—"

"Always!" he ground out. "That is the problem. It is always weak, always limp! It began long ago with less power, less strength every day. And in the last year..." He shook his head. "It was a dead thing. No life at all."

She stared at him, her mouth open and her eyes wide as she at last understood. He turned away and his face burned with shame. But then she laughed. She didn't only laugh; she held her sides and guffawed. She startled birds. She nearly fell off the cart. Even their placidly slow donkey snorted and flicked his tail in irritation.

"I do not see the cause for humor!" he growled as she paused for breath. But that only made her laugh harder, until she finally could laugh no more. He shot her another glare just as she was wiping the tears from her eyes.

"Oh, don't get snooty on me," she said between giggles. "You're the one who started it."

"Started what? I merely explained a procedure—"

"You merely lied through your teeth and think I'm stupid enough to—"

"That was no lie!"

She stared at him a moment, then descended into another long peal of laughter. It was a long while before she finally contained herself. "And here I was thinking you had no sense of humor."

"Of course I do," he grumbled. "But I was your servant. Servants do not make jokes."

"Well, you're not my servant now, and you definitely made a joke."

"It was no joke!" he snapped.

She grinned at him. "Ken Jin, you're not impotent. I know that from personal experience. And even if I didn't, your... um... size and girth is well known among the ladies you have visited."

He turned and stared at her, unsure what to say.

"Yes," she returned, and her eyes seemed to sparkle in the fading sunlight. "Legendary. My God, Ken Jin, you have a large and healthy dragon. Whatever made you think you were... whatever that word is? Impotent?"

His mind worked very slowly. "Legendary?"

"I have told you and told you that you have a reputation."

She had, but his reputation was because he pleased women as he gathered their yin, not for the use of his dragon. He lifted his chin, his words and spine stiff. "Surely I am known more for my restraint." He turned away. "That was a product of my condition."

"Your condition was described as bulging, muscular, and astonishing," she shot back.

He frowned. "Muscular?" He shook his head. "White women exaggerate."

"No," she retorted. "No, they didn't. Remember, I know the truth."

"But... with you it was different," he huffed. "Why else do you think I allowed myself to practice with my employer's daughter?"

She abruptly fell silent. After a moment, he realized that her laughter had been replaced by hurt. He turned to look at her, only to see that she'd turned from him. He could glimpse only the smallest portion of one cheek.

"Char?"

"Is that why you came to my bedroom? Is that why...? You know. Because I made your dragon stiff?"

Up ahead, he finally saw a place to stop for the night. He clucked to the donkey, his attention split between maneuvering the cart and his companion. "You were my employer's daughter. You know what I risked being with you."

"I know," she answered in a small voice. "I know what you
lost
because of me. What I want to know is why." He heard her shift her body back toward him. "Why, Ken Jin? Why did you take such a risk?"

He frowned at the stubborn donkey who would not move according to direction. "Because you stiffened my dragon, Char, in a way that no one had done in a very long time. I was beginning to fear it had died."

Finally, the donkey obeyed, and Ken Jin could direct his full attention to Charlotte. He turned to see her face compressed in thought, her eyes distant in memory.

"I don't understand," she said. "All those women. All that yin you gathered for years. They all said—"

He grunted and set down the reins. "I do not know what they said, nor do I care. I know the truth, Char. My dragon was a withered pole until you." He shook his head. "At first, I thought my renewed strength was because of the treatments."

"Treatments?" she echoed. "The acupuncture?"

"Yes. But I soon realized it had nothing to do with my qi. It was yours. Your power is such that even my lost yang responded to it."

"My qi?"

"Your...
You."

"And all those other women, they couldn't get you to... Your dragon didn't respond to them, so you thought you were impotent."

"I
was
impotent. I wouldn't even undress before them. Then you touched me and everything changed."

"It can't be true."

He threw up his hands in frustration, then hid the reaction by climbing out of the cart. "No man wishes to discuss this, Char." He grumbled low curses beneath his breath as he released the harness on the donkey. Meanwhile, Charlotte climbed out of the cart, moving with the kind of care induced by hours seated on a hard bench.

"I just can't believe it's true," she continued as she grabbed the beast's brushes and bucket. Ken Jin had spent the last of his coins on this trip. Looking at her, he felt his heart swelling with joy that she didn't mind helping with the poor creature's care.

He tethered the donkey to a nearby tree and let her work. Meanwhile, he spread blankets in the back of the cart for a bed. He knew she might refuse to share the space. He was fully prepared to sleep on the ground, but he hoped differently. He hoped—

Suddenly, she stood before him. He could smell the work she had been doing. He noticed the dust in her hair and on her skin. He even saw the pull of fatigue on her face. But mostly he saw her: the last caress of sunlight sparkling in her wide blue eyes, the slight moisture on her red lips, and the simple honesty in her spirit.

"You are not impotent," she said. Then she pressed her hand to his dragon. Neither of them moved. She gave no caresses, no stimulation. And yet his dragon steadily thickened. "You are
not
impotent," she repeated.

"Only with you," he stressed.

"Then it was your choice in partners that was at fault. Not your... not your biology."

He smiled. "Whatever the fault, you have cured it." And then he could not stop himself; he reached up and caressed her cheek. How beautiful she was. Even with her covered in dust and dressed as the poorest laborer, he could not take his eyes from her.

"Kiss me, Ken Jin."

He could not refuse. Pressing his lips to hers, he felt the burn of her powerful yin the moment they touched. His yang was already rising. It always did when they were together. And yet, something was different. Something felt more pure than before, or perhaps simply less cluttered. Was it her? He couldn't tell. Perhaps it was them both, because they had left their lives in Shanghai.

Whatever the truth, he could not turn from the power. His hands found her hips and drew her closer. With all his skill, his lips and tongue stroked, teased, and suckled her. She more than matched him, and soon he was lost to all but the pulsing beat of their combined qi.

When she pulled back to draw breath, she glanced nervously about them. "We're out in the open. Anybody could walk by."

"It will be full dark soon. No one will come by."

"But—"

"Trust me."

She looked back at him, her eyes full of yin power and her expression completely open. "I do."

The two words rippled through his spirit. He stepped back and stared at her, seeing her for the first time.

Sweet Buddha, she was a Tao master!

How could this be? She had no Buddhist education beyond the little he had taught her. She was a barbarian female! And yet she stood before him, fully centered in the Tao. He knew that without question; he felt it in her every gesture and word. She trusted completely and loved openly. Wasn't that the key to all Taoism?

She smiled sweetly at him and took a deep breath. "The air is so clean here," she said. Then she let her head fall back to look at the sky. "And so beautiful."

He watched the long white expanse of her neck and tried to focus his thoughts. Was this why her qi was so strong? Because she openly embraced everything and everyone that surrounded her?

It wasn't that she was an untried innocent. Far from it. She had raised William almost from infancy. She understood the difficulties of an adolescent boy without the brain to restrain his baser instincts. And if she didn't comprehend the bestial from her brother, there was always her father. She'd seen her father's character. She knew of his mistresses and his dealings with opium. After all, the man had brought his partners into their home on several occasions.

She knew about carnality in most of its forms, and yet whenever Ken Jin touched her, she felt open and innocent. She had experienced cruelty on behalf of her brother, felt betrayal from her father and casual neglect from her mother, and yet she could trust him openly with her well-being. These were all marks of a true master. His own abilities paled in comparison. He had never been that trusting, not in a household with three sons competing daily for food and attention. He wondered if he ever could.

He reached out and stroked her cheek. "I want to practice with you." That wasn't what he had intended to say. In fact, he had resolved not to be with her again in any way. And yet, she was smiling at him in a way that made him feel strong and alive. "With you," he murmured, "my yang expands and I become whole again."

She straightened. "I promise you, Ken Jin, you have no missing parts."

He traced his finger across her lips. "You bring all my scattered pieces together."

Charlotte sucked his finger into her mouth, and his yang surged so hard that his whole body trembled. Then she spoke around his finger.

"Teach me, Ken Jin. I want to learn everything."

He should be saying that to her. He should be begging her to show him how to be so innocent, how to hold to joy even when one was penniless and disowned. But he kept silent, his spirit too small to embrace her largeness, and in his shame, he looked away.

"Ken Jin? What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he lied. "We must make ready before dark. I have food and bedding."

In truth, it took very little time to arrange themselves. The weather was warm enough without a fire and clear enough to show the stars. There was grass enough for the donkey to eat, and privacy on the deserted track.

They shared a pair of dumplings; and though he worried at the meager fare, she never complained. Indeed, she seemed happy with his Chinese food. She sat on the back of the cart, kicked her feet as she ate, and stared at the stars. "I wish this night would never end," she said.

"You lie." He spoke without accusation, but she flinched nevertheless. "You are thinking of your home," he guessed. "You wish you were with William."

She shook her head. "I am worried about William, but the only one I want to be with is you."

He couldn't accept her honesty, and it made him all the more surly. "You have never slept on a hard floor, much less an open cart. You are used to five times this much dinner. Your clothes must itch and your bottom ache. You cannot want to be here; you must be wishing for a hot bath, your own clothes, your—"

"My family?" she interrupted. "My father? For all the things of my life that are now gone?"

"Of course."

She sighed, and he expected to see the shimmer of tears in her eyes. He didn't. He saw only starlight and a strange quiet. "I do miss them, and I am worried about the future. What will happen to me? What will happen to William?" Her voice trailed away as she lifted her face back to the sky. "But I'm not afraid, Ken Jin, not when I'm with you. And not here, where everything is at peace."

She slowly straightened. Her gaze left the heavens reluctantly to land upon him. "It's not me who lies, Ken Jin, but you. You say you want to practice, but you don't touch me. You say you want to travel to Peking, but you bought the slowest donkey in China. You are surrounded by peace and beauty, and yet you try to pick a fight with me. Why?"

He stared at her, his mouth open in shock. He tried to shut it, only to have harsh words tumble out in accusation. "You make me feel too much!"

She didn't move; she didn't even blink. She just stared at him as one would stare at a lunatic. And he stared back, wondering if he had truly lost his mind.

"Is that possible?" she finally asked. "To feel too much? I can't imagine it."

"Can't you?" he challenged. "Wasn't Heaven too much?" He'd been overwhelmed when they'd begun to ascend yesterday, and they hadn't even made it to the first chamber.

"It was incredible," she whispered, and he could almost see the lantern antechamber in her eyes. "I cannot wait to go back."

"What about how you felt when William threw his tantrum in church? Or when he cut your clothing with scissors?"

She smiled in memory. "I was embarrassed, yes, and angry. But William would not be William if those things were changed. The only way to feel less embarrassment or anger or frustration would be to love him less, and I won't do that."

Ken Jin nodded, knowing she was right. "But what about when your father threw you out? When he sent you to the mission in disgrace? There must be pain. You must feel—"