Tempted Tigress (10 page)

She was asleep in moments, no doubt as deeply as he because when she next became aware of anything, her body ached from long inactivity and someone was singing badly nearby. It was loud singing, in that nasal baritone so loved by the Chinese. Much more interesting was the smell of dumplings sizzling in a pan.

She opened her eyes. She saw the tub again, dead center of the room, and the Enforcer's long queue undone down his back. Indeed, at first she thought she viewed a woman, so beautiful was his dark curtain of hair. But then he began another chorus of whatever Chinese opera he was singing, and there was no mistaking his male voice. Neither could she mistake the broad expanse of his shoulders as he straightened in the tub.

"Did I wake you, little missionary? Are you awake yet?" The words were sung, and it took some moments for her to realize that he was singing his questions to her rather than intoning some operatic refrain.

She twisted and attempted to straighten her legs, grimacing at the stiffness of her body. Had she truly been sleeping with her hands clenched about her knees? Apparently so, since it took real effort to untangle her arms before she could even contemplate straightening.

"I thought nuns slept on hard boards all the time," he sang. "Do you tell me that your body is unused—misused—not used—unused to such things?" He was clearly adding his own rhythms to a traditional melody.

She grimaced, wondering how he could know she was awake when all she could see of him was his back. Meanwhile, she managed to shift her legs and slowly roll to her knees. Her muscles protested the movement, but the change in blood flow was welcome if painful. Then she rolled her head a bit on her neck to remove a crick, only to stop halfway.

He had a mirror. Probably not a large one by his standards. It rested on another stool and was held in place by two hands—Jing-Li's, no doubt. That mirror was angled perfectly so that he could watch her and she... She sat back on her heels. She could see him in all his naked glory. Well, everything from the waist up, that is.

He grinned at her, his eyes sparkling. Then he lifted a sponge high above his face and squeezed. Water gushed from his hand in an audible splat upon his chest. It was a broad chest, she realized, smooth and surprisingly muscled. His body didn't bunch like so many of the brutes in her adopted father's employ. Instead, the Enforcer seemed to have a lean strength, his tone and form much too... too... interesting for her tastes. Especially as it made him an effective killing machine.

She dropped her eyes to maneuver her feet underneath her. Her hip was tingling with renewed blood and her left foot still had little control, but she managed nonetheless. The sting from the scrape along her thigh helped focus her thoughts. Finally, she was able to force her body upright. She stood with little grace, but at least she didn't knock anything over.

The Enforcer made a gesture, and Jing-Li tilted the mirror back so that she had a fuller view of his naked torso. He—presumably—had a better view of her, too. She bit her lip, wondering what game he was playing. From this angle she could see all of his muscled chest in front of the sleek curtain of his black hair. His skin was golden in color and absolutely smooth as it rippled across his broad form and narrowed in at his waist.

Then he grinned and reclined backwards in the tub, stretching his arms high above his head. "My goodness, Jing-Li, I do believe that I have tired of singing."

"Praise Heaven," his friend intoned from behind the mirror.

"I wonder, then, what else I might do to pass the time. What else could one do in a bath?"

Anna's gaze snapped back to his face. His eyes were alight with mischief, and his expression challenged her to... to do something. Obviously he knew what she'd done before in her own bath. Given his expression, she knew she'd guessed correctly. He had indeed been watching her. Strange, how that thought didn't bother her as much as it should. She ought to feel humiliated by his not-so-private teasing. And she did—a bit. She also felt a strange exhilaration building inside her, another affirmation of life in this game she played with the mandarin.

One of the things she'd learned about the Chinese is that they were as circumspect about sexual activities as the English—in public. More so, in fact. But in private—between a husband and his wives—a great deal of exploration took place, especially among the wealthy elite. The most scandalous things were whispered among the married ladies when she wasn't supposed to hear. Obviously, the Enforcer was indeed of the elite. Of the frankly sexual elite.

While she tried not to stare, he was making exaggerated motions with his arm. She couldn't see if he actually stroked himself; the edge of the tub blocked her view. But his motions were meant to be explicit.

She continued to chew on her lip, wondering what to do. She had seen a naked male organ before. Her work at the hospital, for one, had stripped all of that modesty long ago. But she was supposed to be a nun who—presumably—was innocent. Except, she was obviously not nearly as innocent as appeared, given what her bath had been like.

She pulled her lip out of her teeth and firmed her jaw. Her own dithering was beginning to irritate her. The Enforcer obviously delighted in tormenting his victims. This was just a different method of torture. But it also told her something about him. He enjoyed the unusual. He was obviously delighted by her bath-time activity. And now, he teased her about it to see if she would give him another unconventional reaction. Very well. She would work on being peculiar. She was, after all, supposed to entertain him tonight. Besides, she had never been the kind of person to look away.

She stepped out from behind the desk, her eyes trained on the Enforcer's reflection. "Good evening, great sir," she began formally. "I thank you for allowing me to sleep. It was most kind of you."

She remained behind the tub, but her angle of view in the mirror increased the further she walked into the room. One more step and... yes, she could see past the lip of the tub to his most private part. Or would have if his hand and the sponge were not blocking her view.

Her gaze canted up to meet his eyes in the mirror, and she arched a brow, silently challenging his modesty. His smile widened as he obviously enjoyed her game. "You looked so sweet sleeping—like a child curled around a treat. I could not bear to wake you."

"Most kind of you," she murmured, shifting her weight to the side as she moved around the desk. He shifted the sponge accordingly. Her lips curved into a smile. "Was Jing-Li born higher than you?"

She'd succeeded in startling him, as his hand and expression froze. Jing-Li was not so affected. He leaned around the mirror and smirked.

"I only ask because you are so kind to me—a concubine wife whom you are about to kill—and yet so cruel to your friend whom you have known since... childhood?" She was guessing, but from their earlier conversation she knew she was right. She took another step forward. "Was it hard, great sir, being the one always thought lower in status, less worthy because of a simple accident of birth?"

The mandarin's eyes narrowed and his gaze slipped to Jing-Li. "Yes," he answered simply, but there was a wealth of understatement in the one word.

"A good thing you were not born a woman," Anna drawled. "I do not think you would have tolerated it well. The smarter female always has a difficult time."

"Pah!" he responded, sloshing the bathwater in his vehemence. "There are no smart women."

She had sidled closer to the tub. Her angle now allowed her to look down directly, but he still kept the sponge carefully resting so that she could not see anything of importance. "Do you think so?" she mused. "Then you must think that we women couldn't possibly be as brave or bold as one such as you—a male in the prime of his life, and a scholar as well."

The mandarin shrugged. "It is so."

She arched a brow at Jing-Li and the man's arrogance, but Jing-Li merely shrugged. Obviously, he thought so as well. She carefully adjusted her skirts and knelt down beside the tub. The mandarin shifted position so that he looked directly at her. That suited her purpose just fine. It only brought her target that much closer.

"You have not found any woman more clever than you?" she asked.

He sneered.

"More brave? Perhaps your mother. She did brave childbirth for you."

"Very true, but children are a woman's purpose. To avoid it out of fear would mean to be completely useless."

"My, that is certainly a male perspective." Anna reached down as fast as she could and snatched the sponge from its resting place. His sex lay thick and heavy against his thigh. She openly stared at its shape and length. "And this is certainly another perspective."

He said nothing and so she slowly, reluctantly lifted her gaze to see his face. He was grinning, his eyes sparkling. "And now you see what you wished. And I have delighted myself in allowing you to do as you secretly desired."

She nodded, as if she'd known all along that he would allow her to reveal himself fully to her. And perhaps she had. Only a man comfortable with himself would bathe in front of a woman. So she tossed aside the sponge, then carefully maneuvered her legs in her tight Chinese gown. It took some work, but in the end, she sat on the ground, her arms folded atop the edge of the tub, her chin resting on her hands.

"Oh," she murmured in mock defeat. "Well, then go ahead."

He frowned, clearly not understanding. She had fooled him! Glee bubbled up inside her, but she kept it carefully hidden as she straightened in dismay. "I thought you said you planned for this."

"Of course!" He leaned back, silently offering his organ. He apparently expected that she would try to buy her freedom.

This time she couldn't stop a small smile. "Well then, prove me wrong. Prove that I was not more daring and more clever than you."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Woman, you are illogical and stupid. Do you not understand what you are to now do?"

She shrugged in pretend confusion. "I'm not sure," she said. "I knew you were watching me this afternoon. And yet I acted in the full knowledge that I did so for your entertainment. Do you say that you are not equally brave, equally capable?"

He blinked, then his eyes widened. "You do not intend to...?"

She pulled back. "I did not have help. Do you say you are incapable of doing it yourself? Tsk tsk." She shook her head. "And yet you claim you are more skilled, more clever than women."

His expression darkened, but not so Jing-Li. The man burst out in barely restrained laughter. "He is capable, woman. As a child, it was the only way—"

"Get out!" roared the mandarin.

With perfect ease, Jing-Li set the mirror aside, then bowed. "Of course, Zhi-Gang," he said in an undertone to the floor. "It is a brave and clever thing you do," he taunted. "I understand you want no witnesses should you fail."

"Out!"

Jing-Li was still laughing as he skipped quickly out of the room. But that left just Anna beside the tub and the mandarin jutting proud and hard out of the water. She looked at his face, trying to gauge his mood. His expression was no longer angry. Perhaps it was more thoughtful, more curious, as he seemed to inspect her carefully. Thoroughly. And with a frank sexuality that unnerved her. Or perhaps not. Her nipples tightened under his dark regard, and she felt her tongue wet her suddenly dry lips. "You wish to see a show?" he challenged. She canted her glance away. "I wish merely to entertain, honored sir. I—" Her words were cut off with a surprised squeak as he suddenly gripped her chin and slowly, inevitably, turned her head to face him. "Do you seek to hide now, clever woman?" She swallowed. In for a penny, in for a pound. "I would never hide from any sight you chose to show me."

He grunted in pleasure, as if she had just promised more than she'd intended. But before she could do more than wonder, he began to pull her head down. His grip wasn't brutal, merely firm as he tugged her chin back to its place on her forearms atop the edge of the tub.

"You wish to see? Then watch." Then he wrapped his hand around his organ and began to stroke.

From Anna Marie Thompson's journal

December 14, 1881

A man came today. His name is Samuel Fitzpatrick, and he has a nice smile. He said he did business with my father, so he knew that Father had a daughter. He said Father