Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) (11 page)

He didn’t just make up the rules. He orchestrated the entire game.

Chapter 8

Leaving Lucy last night had been one of the most difficult decisions Sheng had ever forced himself to make. In no way did it please him…or Tiger.

A damn virgin.

Fuck.

He might not have always lived the most honorable life, but he did have limits. She clung to her virginity for some reason. He didn’t have the right to seize that from her. She didn’t know a damn thing about him. About herself. She might’ve asked for sex last night, but she’d have hated him today.

Better to anger her, at least until she chose him with her eyes open.

He drew few lines, but the ones he did, he never crossed. This line? Courtesy of the Matchmaker. He did not need to piss off that bitch any further than he already had. They had a long history together, which mostly consisted of him committing one fuck-up after another.

He vowed to end the cycle with Lucy.

Considering she’d be visiting the Matchmaker today, if he had slept with Lucy, there would’ve been hell for him to pay.

And the Chinese hell—
Dìyù
—had eighteen bloody levels.

Frowning at his reflection, he scrubbed a hand along his jaw then lathered shaving cream over his lower face. The razor rasped across his skin; the water swirled away the grime. A clean slate. That’s what he needed with Lucy.

Virgin.

Even as he attempted to find himself repelled, to diffuse the temptation, he couldn’t deny the fact that her purity fucking
delighted
him. When he finally did take her to bed, he’d be the first. The only.

Mine.

Ah, the beast liked it too. Aroused and pacing the walls of its cage, Tiger hadn’t slept either. The entire night, Sheng had lain awake, fantasizing about taking her, recalling every soft curve of her body. Her intoxicating scent. Her eager, enthusiastic moans.

She’d be so bloody gratifying in his bed. In his arms.

Well worth the wait. Or so, at least, he’d tried to assure Tiger.

He rinsed his blade. First, she had to believe. In him. In her.

Time to coax Rabbit out.

***

Lucy stepped into the mid-morning air, grimacing as a thick, humid cloud enveloped her. The text from Mei this morning stated to meet them outside, but nothing else. Perspiration condensed on her skin. Her ponytail clung to the back of her neck while her blue camisole and pleated gray skirt melded to her body.
Ugh.

The black car pulling up in front of her was heaven-sent.
Air conditioning.
The door swung open, and Kassian cast her a grin. “Hop in, Rabbit.”

His wink told her he found this whole situation humorous.
Wish I was in on the joke.

She scanned the occupants of the car. Kassian held the door, while Mei and Fang occupied the backward-facing seat.

No Sheng.

Thank goodness.

As fast as the tightness eased, it snapped back again, smooshing her insides together. Why wasn’t he here? Did he regret everything they’d said and done last night?

She crawled in beside Kassian, sighing in relief. The cool air fought back the humidity of the outside. Kassian closed the door and the car jolted as the driver sped off.

“Where are we going?” By which, she really meant,
Is Sheng waiting for me there?

“To the Matchmaker.” Mei’s brilliant smile shot to Lucy. She lifted and dropped her shoulders. “Exciting.”

Uh, sure. “Why are we paying this Matchmaker a visit?”

“She’s the official head of our
Kongsi
and a member of the Council of Elders. They never make a decision without her.” Kassian shifted his large body to face her.

“What decision?” She searched each of their faces for answers.

“About you, of course. Silly.” Mei laughed as she focused on the phone in her hands, her fingers flying across the screen.

Kassian leaned back, rolling his shoulders. “It’s okay, Lucy. She can help you.”

“Help me? Help me what?”

“See.” A shrug from Kassian.

Fang didn’t contribute to their discussion, but his scrutiny never left her. She recalled Mei’s introduction. How far would he push the boundaries of what he perceived their relationship to be? Could she ever trust someone who was born to be her enemy, like he believed? As they all seemed to believe?

Even if most of this spirit animal stuff was nonsense.

The car fell silent, but her agitation heightened. She tapped her foot. After staring out of the window for several minutes, she succumbed to her anxiety. “Where is Sheng?” Surely, they weren’t aware of how she’d almost slept with him so it’d be safe enough to ask.

The bodies in the car tensed. She examined each of their faces as they traded glances.

“Li doesn’t really get along with the Matchmaker,” Mei offered.

“Fuck that. He pissed her off.” Fang finally contributed something. Something very useful.

She whipped her head toward him. Hopefully, he’d elaborate.

“He doesn’t want to influence the Matchmaker’s decision so he won’t be there.”

“Well, not where she can spot him.” Mei snorted, her focus on her wildly typing fingers.

“What do you mean?” Lucy leaned forward.

“Roof,” Mei answered distractedly.

Roof? Sheng planned to eavesdrop from the roof? Lucy shuddered, glad they’d shared that much with her. Being spied on upped her anxiety, but the others didn’t seem fazed. They knew Sheng, his habits. Perhaps they’d share more.

“How did Sheng piss her off?”

Silence.

Kassian shifted beside her. “It’s better for Li to tell his own story.”

Okay. End of sharing time. As though enforcing the finality of their conversation, the car drew to a halt.

Kassian climbed out of the car. “We’re here. C’mon, Lucy. You’ll be fine.” He extended his hand and she accepted it as she shuffled out.

On instinct, her gaze shot to the roof of the massive, red-tiled archival edifice. The building stood four stories tall and the roof sloped steeply. What if Sheng lost his footing and fell? Concern for him froze her muscles.

Mei snatched her hand, forcing Lucy to march straight ahead and forget her trepidations. Maybe she’d been joking when she’d remarked he’d be on the roof, and Lucy hadn’t picked up on Mei’s dry sarcasm.

Yes, that must be it.

They climbed a dozen stone stairs before approaching a vividly painted door. A gilded frame enhanced the bright red paint, and two long, golden handles ran from the top to the bottom.

No one made a move to knock. The doors opened, groaning beneath their heavy weight.

Guess they were expected.

A monk with a shaven head, wearing a bright orange habit, held back the door. Uttering not a word, he waited for them to enter before sealing the door behind them.

Vow of silence? Perhaps.

Mei nudged Lucy forward to follow the monk.

Inside the ornately decorated corridor, her gaze swung back and forth between the lifelike clay statues and paintings hanging in gilded frames. Wisps of incense smoke floated through the air. A warm, woodsy fragrance mingled with the overtones of a sweet floral perfume. Sandalwood, accented by jasmine.

Kassian placed his hand on the middle of her back, ushering her gently to keep up the pace.

Time to meet this Matchmaker.

The monk led them into a grand hall. Seated on an antique sofa, a young woman around Lucy’s age awaited them.

Her imaginings of an elderly, wrinkled face—with missing teeth and gnarled hands—smashed like glass shattering on a tiled floor.

The woman was beautiful, like she’d stepped out of a classical Chinese portrait. Her midnight-black hair flowed over her shoulders and down to the middle of her back in long, silken waves. The emerald green traditional Chinese dress she wore accented a sensually-curved figure. Her almond-shaped eyes lifted toward them, revealing smoky lashes and dark, glittering orbs. Ruby-red lips pursed together in appraisal.

She was stunning.

Suddenly, Lucy guessed exactly what Sheng had done to make enemies with the Matchmaker.

Ex-lovers.
Her stomach tightened.

“Psst. C’mon.” Mei prodded Lucy’s side, tugging her forward. “Don’t look at her until she speaks to you.”

Averting her gaze, Lucy clenched her jaw and forced herself to go through with the formalities. This meeting had piqued her curiosity. If this woman controlled the membership of the
Kongsi
, then Lucy wanted to be on the inside. For the first time in months, she felt like she belonged somewhere. Like she might have a family again, a purpose.

Heels clacked on the marble, echoing upward, reminding her of Sheng’s supposed presence on the roof. Did the Matchmaker suspect?

“Welcome.” Pointy, three-inch black heels paused in front of her. “Would you care for a cup of tea?”

“No, I’m fine, thank y—
oomph
!” She sent a glare to Mei, who’d elbowed her in the gut. Mei rolled her eyes in response. Oh, right. It was considered extremely rude to refuse. “Why, yes please.” Lucy lifted her head, dismay overwhelming her as her gaze wandered upward. Yep, the woman was gorgeous.

“Well, look at you.” One thin, dark brow arched while the Matchmaker’s hand settled on her hip. With her other hand, she crooked her fingers, urging Lucy closer.

She complied, both curious and anxious for this to be over.

The Matchmaker leaned forward and cupped Lucy’s chin, tilting her face this way and that.

The gesture shocked the indignation from her. No one had mentioned being examined like cattle. She hoped this woman didn’t actually intend to auction her off. The pressure to marry had been bad enough from her parents. Did her uncle have his hand in this? Her skin prickled while the Matchmaker circled, lifting Lucy’s arms and prodding her side. Finally coming to rest in front again, she tucked a lock of Lucy’s hair behind her ear.

“Aha. That is where you are hiding,
tùzi
.”

Rabbit?

The woman might not have meant to sound condescending, but every bone in Lucy’s body stiffened at this inspection.

Watch it, lady.
She’d backed down from every temptation of violence her entire life. Yet being examined like this… Her fists clenched, nails digging into her palms. Her body hummed with hostile energy.

She was two seconds away from slapping the shrew across her perfectly proportioned face.

***

Sheng peered through a slat in the roof into the grand hall below. He shifted his weight, splaying across more tiles lest the roof give way and crash down with him on top. That would bloody well please the Matchmaker, wouldn’t it? His lips curled. He suppressed the possessive urge to remove the woman’s hands from Lucy’s body.

The Matchmaker returned to her seat on the sofa and patted the red and gold embroidered cushion for Lucy to join her. After handing Lucy a cup of tea, she tapped one finger against her curved lips.

“That mole is curious.” She reached forward and circled the tiny mole below the corner of Lucy’s right eye with one sharp fingernail. “Is our Little Rabbit rather licentious?”

Lucy sputtered on the tea she’d sipped. The teacup rattled on the saucer as she set it on the side table.

Indeed, she is.
His balls tightened at the memory of her whimpers in his ear, her sweet sex rubbing against him. He cleared his throat and peered down at a blushing Lucy. Based on the clenching of her jaw, she was biting her tongue, struggling against giving the Matchmaker a piece of her mind.

More control than me.
He rather admired her for it.

The Matchmaker hummed in amusement as she continued her inspection. “She’s healthy enough. Young. Strong. Has she passed the tests?”

She directed this question at Kassian. Not Sheng. Though it was Tiger’s duty, not Ox’s.

Kassian blanched, as anyone would delivering unwelcome news to
her
.

Fuck. Sheng hadn’t meant to lapse in testing Lucy. He’d just been so bloody distracted by his attraction to her, he’d allowed his impulses to override his responsibilities. Damn. This was so unlike him.

“Ah, not yet, Matchmaker. She just arrived. I’m sure Li—” He cringed, shoulders hunching as he averted his face the instant he spoke Sheng’s name.

The Matchmaker didn’t pounce upon it, but her long, red fingernails curled into her palms. “Go on, you, with your pitiful excuses.” She scoffed. “It’s not as though the balance of the entire world,” she indicated the room with a graceful sweep of her arm, “is hinged upon your good
leader’s
shoulders.”

“Leader” was spoken with such derision, Sheng shrank back, concerned for a second she might have detected his presence.

As if his own misgivings about leading his
Kongsi
weren’t enough, the Matchmaker never failed to take any opportunity to point out his unworthiness.

He ground his jaw. He
was
trying, dammit. Fucking AWOL Dragon.

“Of course, of course, Matchmaker. I’m certain he intended to test her today, but your summons came first. We did not wish to keep you waiting.” Kassian bowed, ending with an elaborate flourish.