there was another way besides war and death.
Li Tao said little to her as they returned to the mansion, but a quiet purpose had taken hold of him that was both frightening and exhilarating. He left her to Auntie, but his hand had lingered possessively on the small of her back for a long time before he retreated to his study. That night she dined alone with Auntie in quiet attendance after waiting for Li Tao to join her. He always took his meals alone and apparently didn’t plan to change.
Suyin began to wonder what sort of arrangement she had agreed to. And with what sort of man?
As a wayward emptiness grew within her, she began to fear that she had agreed for more than merely pleasure or an opportunity to influence Li Tao. She feared she had agreed out of loneliness, a loneliness that all the nights before the next full moon could not appease.
If she had truly been an accomplished courtesan, she would know exactly how to conduct this affair. She would beguile and seduce and become whatever he wanted her to be. But she would not be his concubine.
Back in her chamber, she lit all the lanterns and stayed awake, stabbing an embroidery needle through a square of silk. When she finally inspected her work, her flock of cranes was crooked beyond repair.
The door opened with a slight creak of hinges. She gasped as the needle jabbed into her fingertip. Li Tao came to stand before her, his shadow falling over the embroidery. His nearness alone made her heart beat faster. Would it have been this way with any man who was her first lover?
‘It is late,’ she said.
‘There was much to tend to.’ Cocking his head, he peered down at the crippled birds with only mild interest. ‘You are nearly finished.’
She fixed the needle into the cloth and set the frame aside. ‘Sit and rest. You look tired.’
Such simple, meaningless conversation. The sort a master of the house would have with his mistress. She would call for tea and he would tell her about his daily routine. But they weren’t those people.
Li Tao didn’t move to seat himself. He remained over her with that inscrutable expression that always made her grasp for something to throw him off balance. She dropped her gaze from his face to stare at the line of his neck and the tap of his pulse. The urge to press her mouth against the tanned skin assailed her. Despite the neglect of that evening, she wanted him shamelessly.
‘You are bleeding,’ he said.
A spot of blood pooled on her finger. With a sureness that sent a flutter to her stomach, he took hold of her hand and raised it to his lips.
She snatched her hand away. ‘Scoundrel.’
His bottom lip curved just so and she shouldn’t have been so charmed by it. Their gazes locked and the distance between them dissolved.
He touched her first, his hand to her neck to guide her to him. Always so direct. His lips descended warm on to hers. His kiss took her back to the morning when the heat of their bodies had mingled beneath the blankets. Had it only been just that day?
He lifted her to her feet, hands on her waist to anchor her hips against him. Finally, she wrapped her arms around him, breathing in his warmth and the distinct scent of his skin. She’d been waiting for this moment since opening her eyes to the empty spot beside her.
She learned about him in little pieces that she pulled from the haze of desire. Li Tao had no patience for preliminaries. Her clothes were pulled away and cast aside so that nothing shielded her from his eyes. And then he looked at her, long and slow with an intensity that made her tremble.
There were other little things she learned. Li Tao liked to keep the lanterns burning. He didn’t care for moving to the bed and left their clothes discarded on the floor of the sitting room. Despite the hurried rush of their first coupling, Li Tao could be endlessly patient. His calloused hands slid over her, touching, soothing. And his mouth… He found places she never knew could cause such an ache within her: the base of her spine, the soft curve of her neck. His teeth scraped over her skin as if it wasn’t enough just to touch and kiss and taste.
She knew things too. Nothing from pillow books or her vast, yet shallow