Trancing the Tiger (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 1) Page 2

Dangerous as hell.

  The fluttering in her stomach spiked and then sank lower as he continued to stare at her, unspeaking.

  “I’m Lucy,” she tried in Mandarin, since maybe he didn’t speak English. “I just arrived from America. This is my uncle’s condominium.”

  The words rambled out of her before she slammed her mouth shut. Next, she’d be telling him about the private jet’s food and what movie she’d watched.

  Switch on that censor, Luce.

  He might not be a nut job but, by now, he likely concluded she was one. Especially since she continued to gawk at his muscular body.

  “Um, what’s your name? Should I go? I should probably go, right?” Pivoting, she winced at the desperate tone of her voice. It’d been so long since she’d chatted with anyone, and this new freedom was…even lonelier.

  “Don’t leave.” The smooth, sexy, accented voice stopped her retreat.

  A command? Sure sounded like one. Despite the stiffening in her muscles, she obeyed. She swiveled around, her eyes widening as the man rose with effortless, smooth grace, mimicking the tiger on his back.

  He kept on rising, stretching at least six and a half feet tall, his body so much bigger than what she’d pictured at first. Her foot inched backward.

  High, youthful cheekbones accented a robust, square jaw, obscuring her ability to tell if he was in his twenties or forties. His irises weren’t brown, but a deep, jet black, matching his straight hair. Longer pieces slashed across his eyes, and she curled her fingers into her palms to combat the urge to brush aside those dark locks.

  Recognition struck her. Sexy mouth. Strong jaw. “You’re my driver.” The accusation burst out of her mouth. What the hell was he doing here, being her new neighbor?

  Unless he really was her bodyguard. Yikes.

  Their standoff of silent appraisals continued as the muscles of his massive, sculpted body flexed. The intensity in his eyes made her lower parts needy so she dropped her lashes, peering past them to broad shoulders and across his delectable, carved abs.

  She fought against her mouth falling open and drool oozing out as she admired every sharply honed edge of him. Her nails cut deeper into her palms. She reprimanded her fingers against the impulse to poke him and determine if he was indeed pure muscle. No one should be that sexy. Pressing her thighs together, she ignored the demanding pull of desire warming her core.

  The tiger tat on his back wasn’t alone in gracing his smooth, burnished skin. A palm-sized stylized yin-yang symbol was etched onto his front right shoulder, one Chinese character in the center.

  Her gaze followed the straight line of his hands down to his bare feet. As he stepped forward, she shook out of her lust-induced stupor and focused on his face, only to note the slight quirk in one corner of his mouth.

  Damn.

  Lucy’s gaze roamed over him, a hunger in her eyes Sheng had satisfied for countless other women.

  Not with her.

  Tiger clawed at its cage, itching to break free. Sheng squeezed his hands into fists at his sides, grappling for control over the beast. It wasn’t like Tiger to jump out at someone.

  What about this woman provoked such a response?

  He cocked his head and studied her. They’d waited an eternity for the arrival of Xiaodan’s niece. Hell, Sheng had tolerated the old man for a decade because of her. Because of what she was.

  The beast in him surged in recognition of an old friend.

  Well, at least her uncle hadn’t lied. Ever since Sheng had first glimpsed her exiting the plane, a tingling had erupted under his skin, rippling awareness through him. A sensation he only experienced with the others.

  Lucky for Xiaodan.

  Sheng fought to maintain control. Nothing about the waif in front of him evinced the champion he’d been anticipating, but that didn’t mean her spirit animal wouldn’t be a fierce warrior.

  Tiger chuffed, a sound none but the other Chosen would be able to detect.

  Lucy’s pink lips parted, and her large golden eyes widened. She continued to stare at him with unabashed, carnal curiosity.

  A grin tugged at his lips. Might as well return the scrutiny.

  Streaks of blonde flowed through her waist-length light-brown hair. Large expressive eyes set in a delicate heart-shaped face sparkled in a striking shade of golden hazel. The mixed blood in her veins resulted in features neither Caucasian nor Chinese, but a combination of both.

  The effect was undeniably mesmerizing. He could stare at her for hours, trying to figure out which parts of her were Chinese and which Caucasian. Her father’s side dominated, but her mother’s British traits softened her features.

  Her parents. Dead now. He almost opened his mouth to express his condolences, but fuck that. Experience had taught him how little the pity of strangers was worth.

  She was an orphan, just like him. Alone in the world, but she didn’t have to be any longer. His Kongsi had taken him in and they’d embrace her too.

  Lucy exhaled and her other attributes drew his appreciation lower. In this humidity, the cream camisole she wore molded to her breasts, the pebbling of her tight nipples visible through the thin fabric. His fists clenched tighter. If he palmed their weight, they’d be a perfect fit.

  His cock stiffened, straining against the fabric of his pants and making him grateful they were neither loose enough to expose his erection, nor snug enough to constrict him.

  The view only got better from there. Her gray skirt fit intimately around a slender waist, flared over curvy hips, coming to rest above her knees. The flash of bare, toned legs dried his mouth.

  Tiger settled inside him, pleased. Lucy was an enigma. From his world, but not a part of it. Which was why he’d “borrowed” Xiaodan’s driver’s car and picked her up himself. Evicted Xiaodan’s tenant and insisted on occupying the other apartment on her floor…much to the old man’s chagrin. But, fuck him. Sheng needed to gauge how much she was ready to handle.

  Soon, he’d demand everything she had to give.

  He shook himself, draining his arousal. It didn’t matter if he found her damned attractive. She was still off-limits.

  “Ah, okay. I’m going back inside.” She flashed him a nervous smile as if she had no clue how sexy she was. Didn’t she have a boyfriend devoted to worshipping those lush curves?

  Tiger lashed out, and Sheng barely kept the spirit on a leash.

  Off-limits. He growled at Tiger, not that it was any use. Once the beast set its sights on a target, Sheng usually let the spirit have at it.

  Not. Her.

  The spirit animal settled again, chuffing low growls of dissent.

  Sheng snapped his focus back to Lucy. One glimpse of Dragon. His blood raced through his veins. He’d waited an eternity for this, for an ally of true worth. A champion defender like him. The yang to his yin.

  The legit leader his Kongsi deserved.

  The Dragon spirit that had chosen her for this task was bound to make an appearance, especially in front of one of its own.

  He stepped forward, extending his hand. “I’m Li Sheng.”

  She bit her lip and stared at his hand, then tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear before reaching forward.

  Her ear.

  Her pointed, furry ear.

  His breath whistled in and he jerked his hand back before it made contact with hers. The animal’s form had cloaked Lucy for the briefest of moments, but it had been enough.

  The Rabbit.

  The fucking Rabbit.

  Tiger growled low and deep, and Sheng didn’t bother masking the spear of disappointment lancing through him.

  She wasn’t the one.

  ***

  Lucy reared back as Sheng growled at her.

  Seriously, what kind of person growled at someone?

  The warning of dangerous as hell resounded in her mind as the bark of the tree behind her scraped her back.

  His eyes glinted. Like a cat in the dark. Except it wasn’t dark, and he wasn’t a feline. />
  Her heart jumped and her throat constricted while he eyed her, a grimace curling his lip. The object in his hand cracked as he squeezed his fist. A second later, he opened his fingers and the black plastic dropped to the ground. His mirrored shades? Snapped in half as if he’d imagined her neck?

  He took one step toward her.

  Flight wins.

  She dashed for the path. Her bare feet smacked the warm stones as she fled straight back into her apartment. Slamming the doors, she locked them and flung the switch to shut the curtains, peeking out to make sure he hadn’t followed her.

  Great. Bodyguard or not, her new neighbor was sexy and insane.

  This whole scheme suddenly felt like the worst idea in the world. Her heart panged for home. Mom and Dad.

  Dad hadn’t wavered in the least the last night they’d spent together.

  I hope one day you can understand this kind of love.

  She didn’t. Her parents had always been affectionate, but she’d never fathomed the depth of their devotion to each other until the day her mother’s skin had blistered.

  And then her father had willingly infected himself.

  Stamping down the ache in her chest, she grabbed her purse and shoes, crept to the apartment door, and peered through the peephole. Quiet.

  She refused to stay here, speculating when her growling neighbor would try to break in and slit her throat.

  Rays of afternoon daylight broke through the clouds, so she would probably be safer outside. Lost in a crowd, she could buy some time to figure out what to do.

  Besides, after three months in quarantine, the last thing she sought was to burrow inside. She missed being surrounded by other people. Missed the smallest of freedoms she’d taken for granted.

  Did her uncle realize how psycho this man was? Was she the topic of their harsh conversation earlier? She should go straight to Xiaodan, but doing so would play right into his perception of her as a weak female in need of masculine protection.

  Instead, she straightened her spine, padded into the hallway, and slipped inside the elevator, heading down.

  She’d been through hell this past year. Before the quarantine, she’d helped her parents fend off more than one intruder.

  I’m not a victim.

  She’d taken lessons in wǔshù—a form of Chinese martial arts—since she was six. She might not look strong, but she could break someone’s arm.

  Or that strong, sexy nose.

  Then her neighbor might reconsider intimidating her.

  Damn. As she rushed onto the street, she cursed herself for not standing up to him.

  Her uncle’s condo lay smack in the center of the busy downtown area, right on the waterfront, so being enveloped by a throng of people wouldn’t be an issue. Vigilant of muggers, she hugged her purse to her side as she ambled through the crowds. Once or twice, she glanced over her shoulder, searching the endless faces for the one who might be following her.

  For those glinting eyes.

  After about a mile of speed walking, she veered to the side, pressed her back against a brick wall, and dug around in her purse for her phone. The faint memory of her father’s voice, recanting childhood stories about this city, passed through her mind. He’d always spoken fondly of a park. What was its name?

  She chewed her bottom lip while scanning the map on her phone. Her dad claimed monkeys roamed free in the park, “reading” newspapers and snatching watches off tourists. Sounded a hell of a lot more fun than wandering aimlessly.

  Ah, yes. The Penang Botanic Gardens. They weren’t too far away, either.

  With a game plan in mind, she stuffed her phone back into her purse and hailed a taxi. One pulled to the curb beside her and she hopped inside, giving the driver her destination. As the taxi swerved off, the tips of her ears prickled. She sat straighter and directed her gaze ahead.

  The sixth sense she’d never been able to explain to anyone—and hence had stopped trying—had been tripped. She’d bet her last dollar Sheng had followed her, earning him the new title of stalker.

  Her friends had never understood why she would rather avoid conflict than stand up for herself. Her deep-rooted survival instinct was all she had, all that kept her strong. Running away wasn’t necessarily a weakness. Sometimes, it was the best defense.

  Most wars were won on strategy, not strength. Brains, not brawn.

  Her parents had insisted she take wŭshù classes, hopeful she’d gain some confidence. But she was confident…in her ability to run and hide.

  As a kid, no one had ever been able to locate her during a game of Hide and Seek. Before the quarantine, when intruders had seized upon her home, she’d already made preparations, ensuring there wasn’t anything of value for them to find and steal.

  Her family had hidden in the den she’d carved out beneath their house. It might not have been glorious, but she’d defended them. They’d survived—that day, at least.

  Huffing, she settled on a plan of action. First, she withdrew her phone and studied the layout of the Gardens. A circular maze. Perfect.

  Next, she’d have to throw him off her trail. A predator never anticipated his prey would track him.

  She smiled as she paid the driver and shuffled out of the taxi, swallowed once again by the lineup of patrons awaiting admittance to the Gardens.

  Her ears twitched. Near.

  Pretending to fumble through her purse, she stole glimpses from the corners of her eyes. No one left. No one right.

  The purse slipped from her fingers. It crumpled onto the ground and she gasped, crouching as if embarrassed while shoving the contents back inside. In reality, she scanned the crowd behind her. Her instincts took over as she scoured each face for any sign of hostility.

  A mother with two fussing children. Nope.

  An elderly couple holding hands. Definitely not.

  What appeared to be a group of school children, dressed in matching blue and white uniforms caught her attention. Wait. Something lurked behind the herd of kids.

  Scratch that. Someone.

  And not the person she’d been anticipating.

  Three twenty-something guys scanned the crowd. Each sported spiked, short black hair and Chinese characters tattooed across the right half of their faces and down their necks. They wore dark leather jackets and pants, even in this heat. The three men were attractive in the same dangerous-as-hell fashion as her neighbor.

  Friends of his? Man, she hoped not.

  Her stomach tightened as she adjusted her plan. She’d anticipated losing Sheng in the maze of the Gardens, throwing him off her scent or confronting him in a crowd.

  One stalker she could handle, but four?

  The man in the middle set his sights on her before shoving through the throng of people to speak with the person inside the ticket booth. The resolve in the firm set of his jaw declared he meant business, and the authority he wielded precluded her seeking help from any of the guards.

  Her heart rate accelerated, her gaze darting to the advancing line in front of her. She scooped up her purse and crammed everything inside. A glance over her shoulder confirmed the taxi had taken off.

  The other two men closed in on her from both sides, blocking any path other than the one straight ahead. Through the gates.

  Cornered, she gritted her teeth. Her chance at survival lay inside the Gardens. She bolted to the gates and past the guard who waved people away, declaring the Gardens were closing early.

  Ignoring his shouting, she sprinted into the maze. The heavy thudding of three sets of footsteps echoed behind her.

  ***

  Sheng pounded on Xiaodan’s door. “Yeoh!” he shouted, hostility icing his tone. All these years, the man had leeched off them, off his Kongsi—the Hai San Secret Society—and the Council of Elders. Xiaodan’s ties to the Dragon secured him a privileged position in their ranks.

  He’d bloody lied. Asshole.

  When no one answered, Sheng slammed an open palm against the door, huffing his frustrat
ion. Run and hide, old man. There’d be hell to pay whenever Sheng caught him.

  His cell phone vibrated in the pocket of his leather jacket, but he ignored it. Tiger hunched in the corner of its cage, brooding. The Rabbit. The fucking Rabbit.

  Could be worse. She could be incompatible with you.

  The consolation did little to soothe him. Mei, Fang, and Kassian were useful additions to his circle, but they weren’t going to lead anyone anywhere.

  The Dragon would have.

  He’d waited so long to find the Dragon again. Years ago, he’d encountered the spirit in an alley. Its host had claimed the warrior spirit animal didn’t belong to him. Sheng had called him out on his bullshit, but the man told him to wait for Dragon’s next host. Fucking suicidal asshole. Dragon’s host had chosen to die rather than team up with Sheng. The blow to his ego still stung. Even worse, Tiger had needed Dragon then. The yearning for their co-leader continued to fester over the years, the desperation eating away at Tiger’s self-worth. Dragon had abandoned them. Why?

  As the host of the Tiger, the weight of leading his Kongsi fell onto Sheng’s shoulders. Some days, it bloody choked the air from his lungs. Who was he, a street rat, to assume such a privileged position?

  He rolled his tense shoulders, steeling himself to bear the responsibility a while longer. Rabbit. He snorted. He’d have settled for the noble Hound or even the Sheep. His fists balled at his sides as he stared at the closed door. Emperor help him, if Snake encountered those two spirit animals first. If Snake claimed their loyalty, Sheng’s Kongsi would be royally screwed.

  Still, Lucy was what Lucy was. Regardless of his disappointment, she might be of use to them.

  Hell, he could always use her as bait.

  His phone rang again and, this time, he answered.

  “Li?” Mei’s voice penetrated his musings.

  “Not right now,” he grumbled, and was about to hang up, when she interjected.

  “You should come downstairs. Like, now. She’s gone.”

  Dammit. He hadn’t meant to spook her, but he also hadn’t figured her for the fleeing type. He hung up, a spike of annoyance racing through his veins. The last thing he looked forward to was facing the others. He’d hoped to bring them a new leader. Instead, it seemed they’d be hunting down their weakest link.