Silk and Shadows (37 page)

It was hard to believe that a few short weeks before, Sara had found Ross's closeness comforting, while Peregrine's was disquieting; the mysterious, unsettling foreign prince had been transformed to Mikahl, who was her husband, and in his arms she found solace.

When Sara was in command of herself again, she lay back against the pillow and asked ruefully, "Are you licensed to practice surgery of the soul?"

"No formal training, but I've had some practical experience. Do you feel better or worse for having seen through my eyes?"

"Better. For a moment I did see myself as you do, and I was beautiful. That didn't last long—but I will never feel as ugly or crippled again." She made a face. "It must seem foolish to be so upset about scars that aren't even visible to the world."

"Ah, but surely the scars are just the surface of a very deep river. They stand for the years of pain when you forced yourself to learn to walk, when it would have been so much easier to stay an invalid, and for the occasional pain you will feel for the rest of your life."

Deliberately he laid his hand on her right thigh. "The scars also stand for loss—the loss of a young man you wished to marry, the loss of riding, dancing, and all the physical freedom that the healthy young never question." Gently he squeezed her leg. "And perhaps also they are a symbol of the fact that you can't always live up to your own high standards? You made a mistake." He removed his hand and drew the blanket up to her waist. "We all do. Learn to live with it."

Sara stared up at him, temporarily stunned by his insight. At length she said, "How do you know such things—sorcery?''

"Hardly." He shrugged. "I watch people. I try to understand them. It's a useful skill."

"An uncanny skill." Sara regarded him with curiosity mixed with some awe. "Do you understand yourself equally well?"

Mikahl looked surprised, then thoughtful. "Probably not. There is less practical value in self-knowledge."

Sara had to laugh. "You are quite incredible," she said affectionately.

"Not really," he said with a trace of dryness. "I am merely what my past has made me. It is just that no one else has such a past.'' His fingers drifted down her bare arm in a gentle, unthreatening caress. "Have you had enough lecturing and demonstrating for one night?"

"Actually, I find your ideas very interesting. I suppose someone from a different society can see this one more clearly. You are right that we English are often uncomfortable with our bodies." Though Sara found that she was not shy about her bare breasts, perhaps because of the admiring warmth in Mikahl's eyes.

He was still robed, probably because he did not want to alarm her with the sight of a powerful, naked male body. But she found the idea much less alarming than she had earlier. Her eyes fastened on the curling tuft of black hair visible at the throat of his caftan. "I've never even seen a square inch of bare male flesh below a man's collar.''

Seeing the direction of her gaze, he grinned. "That can be remedied whenever you like."

Sara blushed a little, preferring to keep the discussion abstract, at least for the moment. "Are sexual attitudes very different in other lands?"

He propped his head up on his left hand and regarded her with lazy-lidded eyes. "Everywhere it is recognized how much power and danger there is between men and women. Often desire is condemned, but not always. Sexual customs differ enormously."

His fingertips feathered down her throat, then across the top of her breasts. Though Sara was interested in his words, she found herself distracted by the pleasure that began humming through her.

Blandly he continued, "There is an interesting paradox between East and West. In your country women have more freedom, so they must be taught to defend their own virtue. In contrast, in many Eastern lands women are virtual prisoners, separated from all men except their husbands. Curiously, this gives such women more freedom to be sensual.

"For example…" With his middle finger, he drew slow circles around her left breast, never quite touching the nipple. "While the early Christian fathers preached that sexual abstinence was the path to heaven, the ancient Taoist masters of China taught that nature is energy in constant, shifting motion.

"Two complementary principles are at work: the active energy,
yang
, and the receptive energy,
yin
. Yang and yin apply to all polarities: summer and winter, sun and moon, male and female. When the energies are in balance, life is healthy and harmonious. Hence, for a Taoist, sexual intercourse is a path to spiritual harmony. Man does not take, and woman give—they share their energies in a search for mutual balance."

Sara's nipple stiffened, longing to be touched directly. Thinking that it was impossible to decide which was more erotic, his rich, deep voice or his skilled fingers, she asked, "I assume that men are yang and women yin?"

"Excellent! You have the mind of a philosopher." He transferred his tantalizing attentions to her other breast. "Though actually it is not quite that simple. Even the most aggressive man has some yin nature, and even the most passive woman has some yang."

It was becoming difficult to concentrate on ideas, but Sara did her best. "You must be very yang," she said, rather breathlessly. "Certainly you are very male."

"And you, silken Sara, are very yin—utterly and desirably female." He covered her breast with his hand, the gentle pressure both satisfying and rousing. Then, his intense gaze holding hers, he leaned over and kissed her.

His mouth was yang, aggressive and demanding, while hers was yin, receptive and yearning. Sara felt the melting desire to yield that his kisses always induced, and gladly she surrendered to the sensation.

Then, as the kiss lengthened, her energy began to change. She became more yang, wanting more of him, wanting to explore the depths of his mouth as he had explored hers. As she became more assertive, he also changed, became welcoming and receptive. And in the process, Sara discovered that to give and receive at the same time opened new vistas of delight.

Becoming dizzy from both desire and lack of air, finally she pulled her head away. Her lips an inch from his, Sara murmured, "What… what else do the Taoist masters say?"

"A great deal," he replied distractedly, his breathing as rough as Sara's. Deciding to abandon the lecture and concentrate on demonstration, Peregrine lowered his mouth to her breast. The instant hardening of her nipple made him lose all interest in philosophy. For a time he gave himself up to the satisfactions of tasting her delicious breasts. Now that she was wed and no longer fearing him, Sara responded without reservation, and her innocent fire was the most potent aphrodisiac he had ever known.

He almost passed the point of no return without realizing it. His whole body throbbed with urgency, and he was fumbling with the sash of his caftan before he recognized just how near disaster was. Barely in time, he mustered the last shreds of his control and pulled away.

Damnation, he had known that restraint would be difficult, but this was far worse than he had expected. She would not be responding so wholly if she did not trust him to be master of himself, yet here he was, on the verge of doing the same thing that he had done to her before. What was it about Sara that had such an extraordinary effect on him? Swearing under his breath in Kafiri, he closed his eyes and ordered his racing heart to slow to a more manageable level.

Deciding that it was time to return to a more intellectual plane, he opened his eyes and gave Sara a crooked smile. "Human intercourse is a reflection of cosmic balance, like the mating of earth and sky. When men and women join, it is a solemn spiritual duty. Taoist masters wrote books on the subject of achieving balance."

Her eyes wide and dazed, she said gamely, "Their books must have been very popular.''

"Very." Unable to resist the lure of Sara's silken skin, he reached for her again, moving the blanket aside as he stroked across the subtle curve of her abdomen. Surely it was safe to touch her as long as he remembered that he must stop… "The Chinese are very fond of poetic imagery, though many of the terms are amusing when translated."

He laid his hand over the triangle of soft, ash blond hair at the junction of her thighs, and felt the beating of her blood against his palm. "The female organs, for example, were called names such as the Open Peony Blossom and the Golden Lotus." His fingers probed through the fine curly strands to the moist, acutely sensitive folds of flesh below. "The Cinnabar Cleft."

"A-h-h-h…" Sara's eyes drifted shut. Weakly she said, "I… I've always been very fond of poetry."

"Then you will be interested to know that this"— he located the most sensitive nub of all, and gently began stroking it—"is called the Jeweled Terrace. It is vitally important, for the Taoist masters believed that a woman's yin energy is strongest when she also finds satisfaction in mating."

Sara moaned and arched into his touch. "What… what is the male organ called?"

"Various things. The Vigorous Peak. The Swelling Mushroom. The Coral Stem." He racked his brain, knowing that there were many terms, but finding it difficult to remember or translate them under these conditions. "The Jade Stalk."

That briefly penetrated Sara's sensual haze. Her brow furrowed. "Since jade is green, that sounds odd. I like the other names better.''

He chuckled. "Jade comes in many colors, including white, tan, and brown. That must be the sort of jade meant."

Sara was feeling more yang by the minute, but even so she was surprised to find herself reaching for the sash of his caftan. "Lecture is less effective without demonstration.''

Shy but determined, she untied the sash, then separated the velvet panels and spread her hands across his chest. The dark hair tickled her palms with delicious roughness. Drawing her hands the length of his torso, she reveled in the feel of hard muscle and bone.

The coarse dark hair thickened as she moved lower until she reached the Coral Stem and clasped it between her palms. His flesh was jade smooth and very warm, hard yet subtly yielding.

When she gently squeezed, Mikahl groaned and moved against her hand. Sara was delighted to learn that she could affect him as powerfully as he affected her. As her fingers tightened experimentally, a shudder ran through him.

Abruptly he rolled onto his back so that they were no longer touching. His chest heaving, her husband said with glass-edged precision,"It is time to end the lecture, sweet Sara, for we have reached the limits of my restraint.''