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The Sword Dancer
She was dressed like a courtesan, in one of those robes that appeared to be made out of paper-thin cloth and air. The silk had fallen from her shoulders, revealing smooth bare skin from her throat to the topmost swell of her breasts. It was too long of a pause before he could drag his gaze upwards. Her eyes narrowed at him, fully aware that he’d been staring at her.
He grabbed hold of her wrist and yanked, causing her to collapse over his chest. Li Feng recovered quickly and clawed at his face. From there, it became a brawl, more cat and dog than tiger and dragon. Finally, he took hold of a handful of silk and flipped her on to her back.
‘I don’t—’ he lifted his head to avoid a swipe ‘—want to hurt you.’
Li Feng was breathing hard and her cheeks were flushed with colour. Her hands shot up before he could trap them. Instead of gouging his eyes out, Li Feng slipped past his guard to bury her fingers into his hair. She kept her gaze on him as she ruthlessly dragged his head down. Before Han knew what was happening, his mouth was pressed against soft, inviting lips.
His hands fell to the bed on either side of her, his fingers curling reflexively into the bedding. She tasted of cinnamon and the faint tang of cloves. Though he was positioned over her, his weight pinning her legs, he was the one that felt trapped. This was a ploy, he told himself, while his body greedily strained against her.
Han lifted his head forcibly. ‘At any moment, you’re going to slit my throat,’ he muttered, his voice deep with desire.
There was a glint in her eyes that was both predatory and playful. ‘Perhaps.’
Her hands cradled either side of his face. She stroked his cheek and senselessly their lips were joined once again, breath against heated breath. Her body arched into him. He knew how strong Li Feng was, but right now she was perfectly pliant, moulding herself to him. All of the blood in his body rushed to his lower half. What little remained in his head told him that if he was about to die, he completely deserved it for being so stupid.
He ran his hand along her arm and another down her calf. Beneath the slide of silk, he could make out both the sword in her sleeve and a dagger beneath her skirt. As expected. Already, he knew her so well.
‘You have a strange way of making love,’ she said.
‘We are not—’ It took some effort to breathe. ‘Making love.’
‘But, Hao Han—’
The breathless way she spoke his name stroked like fingers down his spine. He took hold of her wrists as she started to embrace him.
He pinned her arms on either side of her head. ‘Stop this.’
He was painfully hard and trying to fight it. Li Feng chuckled, pleased with herself and mocking him. She’d only been teasing apparently, which was—
‘Damned stupid,’ he growled. ‘Any other thief-catcher would have taken advantage.’
‘But you aren’t any other thief-catcher. What do you think of it, Zheng Hao Han? If I seduce you, will you let me go?’
She no longer looked playful. She looked serious and it made him even angrier.
‘I may find you pretty. I may even desire you, but that only strengthens my conviction that I must bring you in.’
She rolled her eyes, lips pouted. ‘So honourable.’
Not so honourable. Despite his lofty speech, his body was fully aroused. Her lips were red and she was wearing that ridiculous robe that clung to her breasts and waist and made her look like a goddess floating in water. The thin layers of silk revealed too much skin and at the same time not enough. It was hardly fair.
‘Justice is justice,’ he gritted out.
‘Well, then,’ she murmured against his ear before nipping at it. Those long, strong, exquisitely shaped legs were curving around him, urging him into oblivion. ‘Bed me anyway.’
Every muscle in Han’s body tensed above her.
‘Li Feng.’ He was hoarse, his tone a warning.
‘This bed is so much more comfortable than a prison cell.’
She wasn’t sure why she said it. Maybe it was just an attempt to torment him further. Thief-catcher Han was so difficult to take off balance. But the jest was her own undoing because suddenly she was considering it.
Would it be so very bad? A sweet ache took hold of her. She moved her hips in a restless little circle.
Han’s pupils darkened and suddenly she was crushed beneath him. He dragged her hands over her head and kissed her. Really kissed her, with his tongue stroking deep until her body heated and her limbs turned to liquid beneath him.
It wouldn’t be bad at all. It would be so very good.
She knew the dangers of rushing headlong into an affair, but it was hard to heed her own warnings with Han on top of her, anchoring her so perfectly with his mouth caressing hers. For once, she didn’t want to run. She wanted very much to stay.
What was his relentless pursuit of her, if not some strange courtship? They’d fought, but he had never hurt her. And she had a sense he never would, not willingly. She admired him as a worthy foe. And after seeing him naked in the bath house, so beautifully masculine with his skin gleaming, she might have had a few dreams about how he would kiss.
He was better than the dreams.
She wanted to slip her fingers beneath his robe and stroke every line and contour she’d seen exposed in the bath house, but her hands were still trapped. She moved restlessly within his iron grip.
‘Let go,’ she urged softly.
‘If I release you, you’re going to do something to me and it’s going to hurt.’
She wanted to laugh. She wanted to devour him. ‘What if I promise not to?’
‘Li Feng.’ His voice was rough, with an urgency that made her shiver.
He kept her trapped as he kissed her nose, her chin, the hollow of her throat. His mouth sank to the line of her bodice. His lips closed on the area just over her nipple and the scrape of his teeth through the cloth made her arch up desperately against him.
Maybe this was worth prison. She could just escape again … later.
Han went still and she realised she’d spoken aloud. He laid his forehead against her breast and gradually lowered his hands from her wrists. It was a silent and momentary truce and she wasn’t quite certain what to do with it.
After many heartbeats, Han spoke. ‘We must have known each other in a former life. Fate keeps on bringing us together.’
‘We keep on meeting because you keep hunting me down,’ she said with a scowl.
He lifted his head and gave her a look that bordered on fondness. The grin transformed his rough features into something delightfully compelling, almost wicked. Her skin flushed and heat pooled in her belly. His smile did more to disarm her than the kiss.
‘What are you looking for, Wen Li Feng?’ he asked, completely serious.
For just a moment between them, all pretence was gone. ‘There is something I need to find out. Something that happened a long time ago.’
She was no longer trying to torment or seduce him, though his weight did feel unforgivably wonderful over her. She hated being trapped or confined, but she felt none of that fear as he held her now. There was almost a familiarity to it. A strange comfort in Han’s strength and his control over it.
‘I went to Taining,’ he said. ‘What you said about Wang Shizhen being a tyrant might be true, but that doesn’t absolve you of guilt.’
A thief-catcher to the bone. She wriggled out of his grasp and Han let her go without a struggle. Once again, she had been fooled by the natural pull of yin and yang. They weren’t friends. They weren’t anything, though she was disturbed to find she missed the feel of his arms around her. Just a little.
‘What do you want, Hao Han? No thief-catcher works this hard to chase a warrant.’
‘To know the truth. I know your pendant wasn’t part of the heist.’
‘It was given to me.’
‘By whom?’
‘It doesn’t matter,’ she insisted.
But it did. Don’t cry, her mother had pleaded. Li Feng wouldn’t surrender the memory of their last moments together over to him. He was nothing but a man whom she had found intriguing two seconds ago.
Her irrational attraction to danger had got the best of her again. No matter how much she liked the look of him, she had to remember that Han was still a bastard thief-catcher and she couldn’t trust him. The momentary feeling of being close to someone, of feeling secure, was an illusion. She should know that after her disastrous affair with Bao Yang.
She straightened. Her sword was in quick reach if he made any movement towards her. ‘It seems our truce is over.’
‘One of the jade thieves was caught last week,’ he told her. ‘He was beheaded.’
She stopped cold. ‘Beheaded?’
Li Feng started away from him, but was only able to move as far as the other side of the bed. She wanted to believe that she was afraid of nothing, but it was far from true. Her pulse pounded and the urge to run took hold of her.
‘It was General Wang,’ he said.
She hadn’t stolen the jade out of greed or even out of necessity. None of them had. The theft was one act in a string of minor attacks against the warlord. The main goal was to disrupt Wang Shizhen’s activities to keep him from seizing more power within the province.
The danger hadn’t seemed real until that moment. At the time, the heist had seemed a grand challenge and that angry part inside of her had wanted to strike out at something to make up for all that had been taken from her.
At one time, she had believed deeply in the cause, but it was no longer her battle. Bao Yang, the leader of the rebels, had drawn her into his cause with his lethal charm. She regretted becoming so involved now.
Han watched her reaction. ‘There was someone else at the head of it, wasn’t there? If you were misguided or coerced—’
With every word and every action, he was testing her. She needed to understand where exactly they stood with one another.
‘Are you still pursuing me over the jade?’ she demanded.
‘I’m interested in much more than that, Miss Wen,’ he replied, keeping his eyes locked on hers.
She gave him an evil-eye at the double meaning. ‘Scoundrel.’
The corner of his mouth twitched.
They were interrupted by a booming voice in the front hall. Footsteps marched downstairs. Han moved to the door and opened it just a crack before returning to her.
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