Reining Him In (Chinese Zodiac Romance Series Book 5) Page 7

  She treaded inside the white-and-black-hued room. Ivory walls accented by dark photographs and furnishings greeted her. The apartment exuded a cool ambience, and not from the temperature controls. Nothing spoke of warmth or joy. “This is not your home.”

  “Well, I pay the rent, so it sure as hell should be mine.”

  “That’s not what I meant.” She tapped a finger on her lips and regarded the space. The open layout revealed a kitchen, a living area, and a dining table. Where did he sleep? In the far corner, a staircase circled upward. Aha. She headed in that direction.

  “Where are you going?”

  Ignoring Price’s call behind her, she climbed the spiraling staircase and paused at the top of the loft. This was more of what she’d expected. Dark blue silk sheets, tousled on the bed.

  Her hand gripped the railing. A bookcase. Yes!

  She headed toward it, targeting the childish figurine of a…superhero?

  “Hey, that’s personal.” Price dashed to her side.

  “It’s a toy.”

  “An action figure.” He grasped for the toy she dangled from him.

  “A child’s plaything.”

  Instead of grabbing the figurine, he prodded her side, tickling her. She laughed and attempted to slap aside his hands, but he swung her over his shoulder and plucked the toy from her hand. “Action. Figure.” He grunted the words and planted the toy on the bookcase.

  “Put me down.” She pounded her fists into the firm muscles of his back.

  “Not until you agree.”

  “Very well.” She huffed and extended one sharp claw above the firm curve of his buttocks. “An action figure, which children play with.” She pricked her claw into his flesh.

  “Ouch!” He tossed her onto the bed.

  She tilted her chin up at him, the humor in his eyes sparking a smile on her lips and yearning into her core. Her cheeks flushed and she glanced aside. As she focused, she caught a glimpse of a picture frame on the opposing bookcase. The picture was angled aside. She crawled forward, her hand outstretched toward the photograph.

  Price snatched her hand and slammed the frame flat onto the shelf. “Uh, that’s nothing.” He cleared his throat and his voice carried a husky note as he muttered, “Let’s head downstairs.”

  What was Price hiding? Only one thing was certain.

  She would uncover his secrets long before he unearthed hers.

  Bloody hell. That had been close. Price sent an apologetic sigh over his shoulder as he herded Daji down the stairs. Sorry, Mum.

  Somehow, he didn’t think the “it came with the frame” excuse would work on Daji like it did with the other women he brought to his bedroom.

  Besides, when he led them upstairs, it wasn’t to engage in conversation.

  Definitely not about his mother.

  But Daji? She would unleash a vortex of questions he refused to answer. Funny, the more he learned about her, the more he itched to shovel a pile of dirt on top of the past. His history was on a need-to-know basis, and no one had ever needed to know before. With Daji, he’d found himself close to sharing. Like this was fucking show-and-tell in preschool.

  She wouldn’t care. Why should she? Their discussions had made it clear Daji had more than enough on her plate. No reason he couldn’t pinpoint the answers he sought on his own.

  Time to wake the sleeping beast, a.k.a. his little brother, Ryden. He rubbed his hands together, stepped to his closet, and shoved a bunch of clothes into a duffle. After swinging the bag onto his shoulder, he strode to the bookcase and righted the frame. He pressed two fingers to his lips, then to the picture of his mum. He’d inherited her smiling blue eyes, while Ryden possessed her stunning, dark chocolate-hued locks. They’d never met their father. Mum hadn’t ever mentioned him. Even when they’d asked, she’d dismissed their questions, declaring, “We only need each other, darlings.”

  It’d been true. Until she’d died. Well, been murdered.

  Ever since, he’d insisted on looking out for his younger brother. Ryden might be the more responsible of the two, but Price would keep his promise to their mum. He’d take care of his brother.

  Which was why locating Ryden was easy. He lived in the flat across from Price.

  Few recognized him as Price’s brother, or were aware he even had a brother. Unlike him and his partying ways, Ryden was the settling down type—if he ever met the right girl to do it with. So far he’d been unlucky in love, but Price didn’t doubt someday his brother would do the whole marry and procreate dance.

  Funny, Price had wed first. Wait till he told Ryden.

  “Are you finished?” Daji reclined in the kitchen, perched on top of a stool beside the island.

  “Yep, just have to grab one more thing. Be right back.” He set his bag by the door and headed to Ryden’s flat. He didn’t bother knocking; instead, twisted open the knob and shoved through the doorway. Lately, his brother had fallen into a downward spiral of self-pity or depression. He wasn’t sure, and sentimentality wasn’t part of their relationship.

  Even in his funk, Ryden didn’t have it in him to be a slob, so his flat was impeccably clean, as usual. Price marched past the office where his brother worked on his architectural whatnot, through the corridor, and then halted to shove open the bedroom door. “Rise and shine, sleeping beauty.”

  Ryden groaned and rolled away from him. Ugh, it was even worse today. Yet another reason why he refused to desert his brother while off in another realm for who knew how long.

  “Who’s that?” Daji’s voice chimed behind him.

  Well, no time like the present for intros—

  “Not now, Price,” Ryden droned. “Not today, not yesterday, not ever. You can take your whore and go screw her yourself.”

  Oh, crap.

  Daji gasped. “Excuse me?”

  Price smacked a hand against his forehead while his brother made the worst introduction in history.

  Ryden shot upright, stuttering, his dark blue eyes wide. “Ah, sorry. Thought you were someone else.”

  “Yeah, sorry, give us a minute.” He prodded Daji aside before she recovered from the shock and pounced on his bro. Not that the dude didn’t deserve it.

  Glaring at his brother, he lowered his voice. “Get out of bed, you dumbass, and go apologize to her. Properly.” Twisting into the hallway, he raked a hand through his hair. Daji’s arms were folded, her claws tapping along her forearms. Yeah, he’d better diffuse the situation, and quick. “He’s not usually like that, sorry.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Who is he?”

  “My brother.” Once the brat got out of bed and groomed himself, there’d be no mistaking the familial similarity between them. They were about the same height and size, and both possessed striking mixed-race features. Darkly tanned skin and finely sculpted bone structure courtesy of their Chinese grandma, but stunning blue eyes granted from their half-Caucasian mother. And from their non-existent father? Who cared.

  Gulping in a breath, he held the air in his lungs. This next part sucked. “I need to ask a favor. Can he come back with us?”

  She tilted her head a fraction. “Why?”

  “I promised our mum I’d look after him.” He shrugged. Let her make of his request what she would. He stepped into Ryden’s room. “Dude, I said, ‘get up.’ ”

  “I’ll pass, thanks.”

  Why couldn’t this be easy? “The hell you will. You’ll slap some decent clothes on your sorry ass and go grovel before the Queen.”

  “The Queen? What do you mean, the Queen?”

  There, got his attention. Smirking, he crossed his arms and propped against the door. “The Queen of the fucking fox spirits.”

  “Really?” His brows knitted together. “What the hell is she doing here?”

  Price shrugged. “Well, she didn’t come for a bloody cup of tea.” He marched to Ryden’s dresser, plucked out some clothes, and tossed them at him. “Get dressed. Pack a bag. You’re coming with us.”

  “Wha
t are you talking about? Where?”

  At the door, Price grinned over his shoulder. “Our new home. Daji, she’s not just the Queen. She’s my wife.”

  Leaving Ryden gaping, he strode into the hall. Daji perched on the edge of the sofa, hands folded in her lap. He shuffled a few feet from her and plunked his ass down. Strumming his fingers on his thighs, he searched for something to say. She now had dirt on him—his sole weakness. For that very reason, he didn’t go around shooting his mouth off about Ryden. If anything happened to his brother because of him…

  His hands fisted. Nope, don’t go there. Revealing Ryden to Daji was a necessary maneuver, and besides, he held much more over her than she did him.

  Still, he stole a glimpse of her and caught the curling of one corner of her mouth.

  Your move, Daji.

  ***

  Price had donned an even thicker veil of nonchalance all day, ever since he’d brought her to his brother’s home, and dragged Ryden to Daji’s palace. She saw through his act.

  One did not safeguard siblings one did not care for. They must be close. The keen protectiveness she’d sensed in him last night, well, now she perceived where it stemmed from.

  Price protected his brother, not unlike how Daji sheltered her people.

  Damn him. She slammed her book shut. After Price had escorted Ryden to his chamber, she’d sought refuge in her sitting room, praying for peace in a novel. However, her every reflection drifted to her mate and she didn’t discern the words on the pages.

  She’d been at war for centuries, against multiple enemies, and she couldn’t determine whether Price was friend or foe. Ally or opponent.

  Enemy or…lover.

  Last night, when she’d begged him to aid her, he’d been more than willing to offer his jīng. Was this part of his game? Though he’d been sent by the Matchmaker to “rescue” her, Daji trusted the woman’s meddling even less.

  Because of everyone, the Matchmaker fathomed that Daji was beyond saving.

  Price might not, though.

  For centuries, she’d ruled alone. Today, when he’d clasped her hand, his so strong and sure, she’d experienced relief. That maybe, just once, she wouldn’t have to face an uncertain future by herself. That she was no longer alone.

  She snorted. Such foolish musings would send her straight on her way to Dìyù.

  A rap beat on the open door. She lifted her face from the book and narrowed her eyes. Price. “How is your brother? If he requires anything—”

  “He’s settled in, thanks.” Clearing his throat, he reclined against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “I mean it.” He gave a curt nod.

  “You’re welcome.” Did he seek more than to express his gratitude? “Is there anything else?”

  “Why do you do it?”

  She stiffened at the accusatory tone of his voice. “Do what?”

  “Pretend to be a villain. Make up lies about yourself. Eating hearts and whatnot.”

  “I didn’t concoct that rumor.” She scoffed. “My ex-husband did.” She closed the novel in her lap. “If you were aware of anything about ruling in the Jade Emperor’s world, you would realize that none but the strong survive. I would do anything to protect my people. Even portray the villain.”

  His eyes warmed; her throat tightened. She hadn’t intended her speech to evoke this response in him.

  “Yeah, I get it. People suck. It’s easier to let them believe what they’d like to.” Uncrossing his arms, he scraped a finger against the carved wood, hedging a glance at her. Now, not only did his stance soften, his smile sparked with empathy. Admiration. And… No.

  Exuding confidence, Price stalked toward her. She sprang to her feet, setting aside the book. Wherever this was leading, it was down a dangerous path.

  He paused in front of her, extending a finger to curl under her chin as though he intended to kiss her.

  Stop this. “You’re the most tunnel-visioned male I’ve ever met. You couldn’t grasp what’s going on around you if it smacked you in the head.”

  The empathy flickered and he dropped his hand, cocking his head. Good. “Yeah? Well, how’s this for an observation? I think you like me.” His lips quirked. “Way more than you want to.”

  Oh dear.

  He stalked one step forward, closing in on her. Insulting him hadn’t worked. Her contempt had bounced straight off him, as if he’d seen through her.

  “You haven’t completed the cleansing.”

  He paused and his thick brows knitted together. Most likely he didn’t accept her words, but he halted his advances nonetheless.

  “My handmaidens will join you in your chamber shortly.” She straightened her shoulders and notched her chin.

  “Right.” His jaw tightened with an emotion she couldn’t discern before he strode from the room.

  Daji exhaled a shaky breath. Every instinct inside her screamed to pursue him, to snare his hand, and draw his lips to hers.

  Precisely why she shouldn’t. Mating Price might be part of the solution to her race’s survival, but any intimacy between them would bring him to ruin.

  She perceived their attraction for what it was. A connection that ran far deeper than lust.

  A potential for…what, love? After witnessing Price’s relationship with his brother, she no longer deemed him incapable of affection.

  No hiding from the truth. She was dying. Allowing any tenderness to form between them would end up hurting him.

  He might be sent here as her protector, but she would do everything in her power to shelter him…from herself.

  If she had to perform the role of heartless shrew her late husband had written for her, so be it.

  After all, she’d perfected the act.

  ***

  Price scrubbed his hands across his face, waiting for Daji’s handmaidens to finish their cleansing ritual. For the past two weeks, he’d consented to enduring these messed up rites. She was going all out to cover up her games, all right.

  He’d had to ingest bizarre, disgusting concoctions. Had to squat in tubs of who-the-hell-knew-what. And oh, there was the lovely, near-embalming procedure that would’ve scared the crap out of anyone with claustrophobia.

  Yeah, fun times.

  Tonight, three females had stripped him—quite enthusiastically—and they proceeded to oil him with fragranced grease. Uck. He wrinkled his nose. Yep, no doubts about it. This shit would keep the ladies at bay during however long this bogus cleansing period lasted.

  One maiden withdrew a long, thin blade from her supplies bag and scraped it across his back, shaving off the grease.

  He had to give props to Daji for the most fucked up fake ceremonies ever concocted.

  Gritting his teeth, he tolerated the rest of the cleansing. Once this was complete, he was going to devise hellish payback for the Queen.

  The maid finished, setting aside the blade, and whispered with the others.

  “Well, is the cleansing finished yet?”

  She dragged her bottom lip between her teeth. “I, ah, have to consult the Queen.”

  Uh-huh. Sure.

  “Until then, you’re not to touch her…intimately.” Her cheeks flushed, and suddenly, he was tired of being naked and exposed in front of strange women. He’d tolerated a ton of crap since coming here. To save Daji’s ass, not his.

  Snatching the towel on the side table, he wiped off the last of the grease. “Thanks, I’ll keep that in mind.”

  Giggling, the maidens scurried from his chamber.

  Daji’s hot-and-cold games weren’t fooling him. He grabbed a clean towel, wrapped it around his hips, and marched straight into her chamber, not bothering to knock.

  “All done, sweethe—” His tongue stuck in his throat. Candles lit the darkened room, flickering off her soft curves as she bent, nude.

  Holy hell. That ass was going to be the death of him. Lush and full, revealing the hint of her pretty pussy.

  She plucked a silk robe from the floor and clos
ed it around herself, but not before he’d snapped a succulent mental picture.

  “Are you incapable of knocking?” Bright pink flushed along her cheeks and she hugged the robe tighter around her body.

  Swallowing, he forced his jaw shut. He should apologize, but he wasn’t sorry. Not in the least.

  Judging by her rapid inhalations, neither was she.

  “Tonight’s cleansing ceremony. It’s finished.”

  “Ah, good. You are dismissed.” She perched on the chair in front of her vanity, plucking a brush from the carved tabletop.

  What he’d come for was to hear her admit the ruse. Stubborn thing, she wouldn’t. “So, how many more rituals?”

  “Hmm?”

  “Your maidens weren’t sure. How many more rituals do I have to complete before we’re allowed to have sex?”

  A…squeak?

  Had his blunt question caught her off-guard? Well, that was nothing compared to what he had in store for her next. “Until then, I have a reputation to uphold.”

  “Wh-what do you mean?”

  “Well, I can’t have my new subjects concluding I’m incompetent at pleasuring my own wife.”

  “You can’t touch me yet.”

  He prowled forward, halting behind her. “No, but you can touch yourself.”

  Her lips parted, and he was pretty certain he’d obliterated any sassy retort she might have devised. “Lower your hand, in between those sweet thighs of yours.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You heard me, Daji. If I’m going to play your games, you damn sure are going to play mine too.” He leaned in and droned against her ear, “Gotta be certain about what we’re dealing with. Wouldn’t want any surprises on our consummation night.”

  “Consummation night?” Oh yeah, her tone was airy. And curious. He hardened, his erection straining against the front of his towel. “Yeah, your maidens told me it was a big deal. The male has to prove his prowess.”

  Great, now he was the one making stuff up, but it wasn’t like Daji could refute anything without admitting her lies. Besides, he’d taken note of what had happened at the nightclub. She carried far too much pride to back down from any challenge.