Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) Read online

  Xiaodan. Motherfucker. Lucy’s uncle had been listening too?

  Sheng cast a scowl of betrayal at the Matchmaker, but it seemed she was still too smugly reminiscing about his one-act performance in her bed. She lifted her shoulder and focused on Xiaodan.

  The short, lanky man strode toward them, but directed his focus on the Matchmaker. “I may have been wrong about the Dragon but, I assure you, Lucy will not disappoint. She will submit to whatever you require of her.” He dabbed the beading sweat from his forehead with a handkerchief. The sour stench of his cowardice stung Sheng’s nostrils.

  The Matchmaker conceded with a delicate nod. “Indeed. She will, Xiānshēng Yeoh.”

  Ending their discussion, she slid her arm through the old man’s and waved Sheng off. “Remember our conversation, Li. Don’t bring her back until she’s ready.”

  The pair of them strolled away, heads bowed, deep in conspiracy.

  The tiny hairs on the back of his neck pricked. He didn’t like this new development. Not one bit. If Xiaodan was involved in the Matchmaker’s schemes, there was more to the puzzle surrounding Lucy than Sheng had been given to piece together.

  The Matchmaker might be right, for once. As much as his gut sank to admit it, maybe Lucy really was off-limits.

  Lucy tugged down the hem of her black t-shirt. After the others had driven her back to Kek Lok Si and not her uncle’s condo, she’d anticipated another tour. Instead, they’d handed her a set of workout clothes and directed her to a changing room.

  The second she’d stepped out, unease had fluttered through her stomach. The others, dressed in clothes matching the ones she wore, were gathered around Sheng.

  Her cheeks flamed as images of last night flashed through her mind. Knowing he’d eavesdropped on her entire meeting with the Matchmaker heightened her anxiety.

  Licentious? Seriously, who used that word? It wasn’t as if she were a prostitute. What was wrong with enjoying a little physical contact? Her mind drifted over their conversation in the dome and the appearance of the white foot atop her hand. Had Sheng spied it?

  Her palms grew sweaty while she surveyed the huddled group. She shifted her feet, unsure if she should join them. Are they talking about me? Just as the question passed through her mind, Sheng lifted his head, his dark gaze lasering straight into her. No emotion pierced the inscrutable mask on his face and, still, she trembled.

  Fang, Kassian, and Mei broke away from him, retreating into the gym.

  “Come here, Lucy.” Sheng extended his hand but, as she treaded forward, he shifted into a defensive stance.

  “What are you doing?”

  “Fight me. Show me what you’ve got.”

  Oh boy. No way. Sure, she’d achieved the fourth level of wŭshù known as the bronze/blue Tiger. Yet it hadn’t been easy or enjoyable. Yesterday, she’d witnessed Sheng fighting. In two seconds or less, he’d have her flat on her back. Without a doubt.

  It was pointless to fight him. “We both know you’re better than me. There’s no reason for us to fight.”

  “I’m the Master. When I tell you to do something, I expect you to obey.” Another crook of his fingers.

  His commanding tone was nothing new to her. As a Master, he outranked her. She owed him both her respect and obedience. Still, she struggled against folding her arms and refusing. Although, part of her would’ve loved to toss him onto his back. Even if she doubted she could best him.

  “Fine.” Lucy sighed and inched forward, striking a blow to his shoulder, which—surprise—he deftly blocked.

  “Try harder than that, tùzi.”

  His eyes sparked with mischief and, suddenly, she needed to wipe the smug grin off his face.

  You can do this. Dig deeper, Luce.

  She shot forward again, this time lower, aiming to land a strike across his middle. He thwarted her blows, dancing around her. She cut her arm across her body, using the force to chop at his upper chest. He flounced back, flipping over and away from her, landing in a crouch, hands braced on the ground with the tips of his fingers.

  “That’s it. Use your emotions,” he goaded, nimbly popping to his feet.

  She didn’t give him a break, launching at him. He slid beneath her and kneeled, his back bent as if he danced the limbo. She landed on her feet and whipped around to face off against him once more.

  “What do you know about anything?” Her righteous anger didn’t surface, it boiled and erupted. She might have been rescued from the nightmare, but they’d never experienced a second of it. Yet, here they were, saying the vaccine was pointless? Confident they could stop the Red Death? Blaming it on a frickin’ Plague God? Ha!

  “Together, we can stop this. I promise. Give me your Rabbit, and I’ll hand you justice.”

  This time he came at her and their hands locked in a dizzying blur of blocked blows. As his arm aimed for her lower middle, she spun away, twirling around his back. She kicked at his knee. He countered, grabbing her leg and knocking her backward to slam her butt onto the mats. Twisting from her back to her side, she swiped her foot at his lower legs. He jumped, avoiding her kick.

  Her body heaving from the exertion, she used her arm to brush away the sheen of sweat across her brow. She smiled as a bead of perspiration formed on Sheng’s forehead.

  Maybe he wasn’t invincible.

  Deeper. I can beat him.

  Just once on his back, and she’d be eternally grateful.

  “Finished, Lucy?” Sheng taunted from his side of the circle, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “I thought you had more in you than that. More fight. Or are you just the spoiled American princess afraid to scratch her manicure?”

  This was his opinion of her? Rich girl, no depth? Targeting him, she answered, “How dare you assume I haven’t suffered. I’ve been through Hell. It’s how I landed here.” Narrowing her gaze, she ground out, “I’ll never be finished. Never, Sheng.” She vaulted to her feet, and they circled each other, scavenging for weaknesses.

  As much as he’d studied her in their first few rounds, she’d been scrutinizing him too. Analyzing his fighting style. Detecting how he responded to her moves.

  She may not be as strong or agile, but she was no novice, either.

  She kicked and, as she’d predicted, he latched on to her ankle. This time, instead of letting him toss her to the ground, she bent her knee and launched onto him, bracing her hands on his shoulders to propel around to his back, piggyback-style. The swinging motion jerked him off balance, and he tumbled on top of her.

  His heavy frame smacked her to the ground, the sharp angles of his bones bruising the soft tissue of her body. The sickening snap of a bone echoed, and she must have cried out, because his weight lifted instantly.

  Too late. Spearing agony shot through her elbow where her arm twisted unnaturally behind her back. White spots blinded her vision as though she’d stared straight at the sun during an eclipse. She gasped for air, but each breath seared her lungs. She couldn’t move, her body was paralyzed as her pain receptors worked overtime to ensure she focused on nothing but the throbbing pangs in her arm.

  “Lucy. Lucy.” A rough, accented masculine voice called her name. She winced and shook her head, trying to sink into unconsciousness where she wouldn’t hurt.

  The bastard was insistent. Bands of steel wrapped around her, lifting her off the mats. Juggling her into his arms, he knocked her elbow against his chest.

  She screamed.

  Pain slammed back into her full-force, causing her eyes to shoot open. Sheng’s blurred face sharpened. Panic lanced his features, making her contemplate for a moment that he did care.

  “We’ll fix you up, okay? Just breathe for me, yeah? You’re going to be fine.” His words soothed her, a calm ocean wave. She dropped her head back against his shoulder and slid her eyes shut. The torment in her elbow diminished like a light dimming.

  “What the fuck were you thinking? We were supposed to spar, not go all out.” His reprehensive growl in her ear jolted h
er back from those soothing waves.

  Jackass.

  She winced as she lifted her head to glare at him. “You didn’t think I could beat you, asshole. Did you really expect me to just submit?”

  A dark possessiveness flashed in his eyes as she spoke the word “submit.” She tried to hold his stare, to delve further, but he focused straight ahead, spinning around and using his shoulder to shove open a door.

  “She’s broken her arm.” He exchanged words with a person she assumed must be a doctor.

  She attempted to twist around to get a better view, but Sheng grasped her tighter. “Stop squirming.” His warning feathered against her ear. “No, knock her out for this one.”

  What the heck? She flounced in his arms, arching her spine, but he held her down, his firm grip no match for the pain lacing through her body at her flailing.

  One moment, she glared into his dark eyes. The next, blackness.

  ***

  Mei filled a syringe, her features spread in glee. Playing doctor happened to be among her favorite pastimes. Crazy Monkey.

  Sheng rolled his eyes and focused on subduing Lucy’s attempts to break free of his arms. The moment the needle plunged through her skin, her lids closed and her body went limp.

  At last. Cooperation. Even if it meant drugging her. He nodded at Mei, Kassian, and Fang before laying Lucy on the infirmary cot. He hissed in empathy as he eased her arm across her front, the limb bent at an awkward angle. They stationed themselves around her, each placing a hand on her body.

  Mei’s eager grin dimmed. “You should sit this one out, Li.”

  No one sought a repeat of Rabbit freaking out in the presence of Tiger. He scowled, but released her hand and stalked to the corner where he could keep an eye on the procedure.

  “Ready?” Mei nodded to the other two and their animals leapt forth. Fur, tails, ears, claws. Rat, Monkey, and Ox cloaked their hosts. At the points of contact along Lucy’s body, Rabbit broke through.

  A downy white rabbit pelt spread across her skin. The spirit didn’t uncloak fully, but it didn’t have to. The energy of the three other animals would be more than enough to heal Lucy’s body.

  A nice perk of being Chosen. The energy that passed through their bodies could be transferred, flowing from one to another, mending any weak link in the chain. Together, they were strong. One Chosen alone could wither from the slightest of illnesses.

  Like Snake.

  It gutted Sheng every time he thought of Snake and how he’d coaxed Boar to his side. Of how Sheng had failed to join with Snake in the first place. They were both too dominant, too stubborn, and neither preferred to play second fiddle.

  By nature, Sheng’s spirit was more powerful. Yet Snake was sly and he’d circumvented the rules, forming his own band. Made no fucking sense. Apart, they would never restore balance to the world.

  Unfortunately, that was what Sheng feared. Snake didn’t seek balance. Born of a privileged life, the golden son of the Ghee Hin Kongsi, he’d never grasped the benefits of a “balanced” world, of the equality of the life within it.

  Sheng’s upbringing had been the polar opposite—on the streets, getting picked up by the Hai San Kongsi out of sheer luck…or rather, because of the Matchmaker.

  Yeah, that bitch. When the Matchmaker had found him on the streets and showed him the Tiger, he’d accepted his fate straight away—a fucking Cinderella story. If cats had nine lives, Sheng was pretty sure he’d used eight of his. So while he might not fit the part of a prince, he did his damnedest to protect his new family.

  Guess he owed her, or did she owe him? He could never keep it straight. Possessing the Tiger was both a right and a privilege. He’d been raised in a traditional household until a fire destroyed his home and killed his family. Years eight to sixteen he’d spent on the streets, clashing rather roughly against the Ghee Hin.

  Still did.

  No such concept as a “truce” for Snake. While he possessed the wealth and privilege to build the ranks of the Ghee Hin, the Hai San focused on smaller, more lethal numbers. The Kek Lok Si monks, yeah, each of them were warriors. If need be, they’d defend this place to the last stone tile.

  Lucy moaned and his attention shot back to her. The bone in her arm knit together. The grisly bruising faded from dark purple to yellow and disappeared altogether. Mei smoothed her hands over the healed wound and swept Lucy’s damp brow, whispering with Monkey’s chittering voice.

  Lucy’s features twitched before settling into a deep, heavy mask.

  Good. She’d sleep and her body would recover from that fucking mess-up of his.

  Fighting with her? He grimaced. His plan had backfired and she’d ended up hurt. As arousing as wrestling Lucy was, he should have known better than to goad her into using her emotions. Should’ve anticipated she’d fight more with her heart than her head. More passion than strategy. Admirable, really, to anyone with a beating heart.

  Been through Hell. Her words echoed in his mind. The first true glimpse she’d bared of her soul. It made him that much more eager to uncover the rest.

  “Li, you coming?” Fang shot the question from the doorway.

  He shook his head and slumped into a chair. No fucking way would he leave her.

  ***

  Lucy’s eyelids twitched. Lifting lids weighing ten pounds each and swallowing against the arid dryness of her throat, she blinked into consciousness. A white room greeted her. She registered the thin mattress cushioning her body and noted she was pressed against a wall.

  Her hand glided backward along smooth, hard muscle. Yeah, not a wall.

  Sheng.

  Her breath hitched and her pulse beat rapidly as awareness of him spread through her veins. She lay curled on her side; he spooned her from behind. One steel arm cinched her ribcage, an inch short of fondling her breasts, which plumped against his forearm. His other arm was slipped beneath her, fingers spread across her middle as though he insisted on possessing every inch of her.

  His thick, muscled thigh draped over hers, and a hard, solid length was pressed along the cleft of her ass.

  She froze.

  His chest was bare, but the delicious gloss of silk slid across her skin, signaling that he wore pants. The smooth fabric contrasted against the scratchy material abrading the rest of her body.

  A hospital gown? Wait… Hospital gowns opened. In. The. Back.

  As she was about to freak out, her instincts slammed down on her anxiety. Judging from the gentle undulations of his rising and falling chest, he was asleep. He probably didn’t even realize he’d been dry humping her in his sleep—

  “Lucy.” Sheng moaned against her ear, his hips rocking, gliding his hard length back and forth between her thighs.

  Oh man. He wasn’t merely sleeping. He was dreaming.

  About having sex with her.

  Yet his movements were subtle, tender. As though he took his time making love to her, even in his dreams.

  Her body softened and moisture slicked between her thighs. She was getting wet. Very wet. And so horny.

  Was this what he fantasized about? Sleeping with her when he might have any other woman in the entire world? The sting of his earlier rejection eased as the flattery sang to her feminine senses.

  His subconscious fulfilled what his conscious sense of honor wouldn’t permit.

  Stupid virginity. She wished she’d screwed the entire football team at her university. Maybe then, Sheng would act on what he so clearly desired.

  Would it be so bad to help him along? A tiny, sinful whisper purred.

  If anything, she ought to take offense that he was currently grinding against her. But they both wanted this. The stubble on his chin scraped her cheek as he nuzzled her hair. Oh, she could get used to this. Devastatingly sensual man.

  But she longed for more.

  Yes. She craved him. All of him.

  Her fingers inched backward, following the treasure trail of crisp hairs downward. He didn’t wake, so she spread her fingers
over the waistband of his athletic pants and tugged the material down to free his cock.

  Oh my. Her fingers closed around smooth, hot skin. He was so huge, her fingers stretched to wrap around his shaft as she brought him between her thighs once more.

  His deep breathing stalled.

  Shoot. Caught.

  Lucy snatched her hand back to her hip, slammed her eyes shut, and slowed her breaths.

  So much for being a bold, wanton seductress.

  Sheng whipped open his eyes. A painful tightness ached in his balls. Softness cushioned his throbbing erection.

  What the fuck?

  He inhaled Lucy’s scent and groaned. His brain registered the vice-like grip he’d assumed across her body, pinning her against him. It was a bloody miracle she hadn’t awakened, that he hadn’t constricted her oxygen intake.

  He sighed as he lifted his cheek from her hair. Silky hair, softer than the down of a rabbit’s pelt. He snorted at the comparison. Extricating his arm from beneath her breasts, he hissed as his cock jerked in response to the fullness he’d been so close to cupping. Next was worse—disengaging from the plushness of her ass. Her bare ass.

  Fuck. He groaned at the sight of the hospital gown Mei had dressed Lucy in. The floral-patterned, flimsy material wouldn’t have hidden much even if the gown didn’t gape open.

  Smooth, flawless skin. A cascade of dipping and rising curves. An ass he wanted to grip hard, flick open to expose her pink pussy, and bury himself inside. Good thing he couldn’t glimpse the treasure she kept between those toned thighs. He might not make it out of here if he did.

  He extracted the other hand he’d wrapped around her and eased off the bed, a cool draft chilling his bare balls. He glanced down.

  Shit.

  He scraped his hand along his jaw, staring at his cock, rock-hard and glistening.

  Double fuck.

  Her essence coated him. Her sweet honey made him all slippery and wet, and—

  Hell.

  He yanked his pants up and, checking to ensure Lucy was fast asleep, vacated her chamber. Before he made good on his wet dream.