White Tigress by Jade Lee Read Free Book Online Page A

"Wh-what do you want?"
    "Yin." And when she did not understand, he tried to explain. "Your water. Your womanly water to balance out my yang. My fire."
    She swallowed, terribly afraid of what he meant. "My tears? You wish my tears?"
    "I need a great deal more than that." Then he glanced out the window. "And it is time we began. Arrange yourself on the bed. Seated. Facing me."
    She knew better than to refuse, but she moved as slowly as possible, terrible images forming in her mind. Did he mean to stab her? To bleed her as a means of getting her water? "If you hurt me, I could bleed. And if I bleed, I will die and you will get no water."
    He started, his body jerking slightly as he settled on the bed. "I have no intention of bleeding you!" He sounded insulted. "I am an honorable man."
    "Who keeps a female slave!"
    He blinked, obviously not understanding. "Yes?"
    And at that moment, she saw the truth in his eyes. "This is commonplace, isn't it? Many men keep women here." Her voice was a mere whisper, but he understood anyway.
    "Of course. Such is the way with men and women."
    She stiffened. "Such is not the way with men and women in England!"
    "Then you should have stayed in England."
    And right there was the crux of her problem. She had left England, left the safety and security of her home to come to China, a land where one woman was not more than a ninth the value of a single lame boy. And now...
    She had no more thoughts as a hand reached out to untie her robe.
    She scrambled backward, instinct taking control. From the doorway, Fu De sighed in frustration, and she saw fury build within the dragon. His face hardened, and the embroidered eye of his robe seemed to narrow in hatred.
    "Return to your position," he said—not in a bellow, but a low hiss of controlled rage.
    She swallowed, but could not otherwise make herself move.
    "I have told you that my patience is at an end. If you will not present yourself for training, then Fu De shall make arrangements immediately for your return to the Garden of Perfumed Flowers."
    The whorehouse. The terrible place where...
    No, she resolved. No, she would not go back there. So she would have to do as she was ordered.
    She moved slowly, but as she did, her thoughts kept returning to one question. How was this any better than that? How was the dragon any easier a taskmaster? After all, perhaps there she would have better opportunity to escape.
    But in her heart, she knew that was not true. At least here she wasn't shackled or drugged. And yet that did not make obeying the monster's commands any easier. Nor any less humiliating.
    Still, she knew she had pushed her luck too far. She returned to her place, kneeling in front of the dragon on the bed. And when he reached for the tie of her robe, she merely closed her eyes and tried not to breathe. Or sob. Or even to remain conscious.
    He loosened the tie and pushed the robe off her shoulders. The silk slipped free to pool around her hips, covering everything from her waist down but leaving her entire upper body exposed.
    Unbidden, tears began to flow from beneath her closed eyelids. Then she felt his hand, a brief touch on her left shoulder, and she flinched.
    She could get through this, she repeated silently to herself. No matter what happened, she could survive. Eventually, she would find Maxwell again and everything would be all right. She would become his wife, they would have happy children, and everything would be all right. It would be all right.
    Finally, she heard the monster sigh. It was such a strange, unexpected sound, that she opened her eyes in confusion, having to blink several times to clear her vision.
    He was looking at her, his Chinese face unreadable, but his sagging shoulders told her that he was disappointed. He even pulled her robe back around her, his movements reluctant and heavy.
    Anger flashed within her. Well, what did he expect? That she would rush gleefully into ravishment? She reached up, gripping the fabric closed