The Grandmaster's Legacy (HOT Historical Suspense, Box Set)

by Taylor Lee

  Wyatt puffed on his cigar and grinned at Chief. “I dunno, Chief. Think our ancestors are turning over in their graves at the way we look tonight?”

  Surprisingly, Chief responded in a solemn voice. “To the contrary, Wyatt. The fact that we are at this party because you have amassed the largest fortune of any person here through skill, courage, and a hell of an attitude would make our ancestors proud. Moreover, you did it honestly—no graft, no thievery, no corruption. Just by being smarter by half than all of them put together.”

  “Thanks, Chief. Goes without saying that the reason you are here tonight is that I couldn’t have done it without you.”

  There was a soft knock on the door. Alono went to answer it, his hand resting on the gun in his back holster.

  When he opened the door, all three men stepped back as if they had been blinded by a vision.

  Lei stood in the doorway smiling as the men stared at her, speechless. She was dressed in a stark white dress. The silky fabric shimmered and clung to her body, highlighting every curve. She had not attempted to hide her beautiful breasts. It was clear that the luscious swell of flesh showing above her dress was only the beginning. The gown hugged her hips. Her sculptured ass toned by years of kung fu practice was gloriously apparent, right down to the crack in its cleavage.

  The most stunning element was the daring slit up the front of the gown open to her knees, an outrageous statement. It teased the eye of the beholder with every step she took, revealing a flash of gorgeous bare leg. Her already sensational legs were made more beautiful by her three inch high heeled satin slippers. The outrageous slippers were all the rage in France, but rarely seen in America, much less Wyoming.

  The white of her dress against her golden skin was breathtaking. An intricate silk orchid studded with a sparkling array of diamonds was her only ornament. She had tucked the jeweled blossom artfully over one ear to hold back her lustrous black hair.

  Wyatt was the first to speak, barely choking out the words. “My God, Lei, you are the most unbelievable sight I have ever seen.”

  Chief could only bow. Alono looked as if he would never speak again.

  Lei gave them all a rakish grin. “Look at you. I have never in my life seen more gorgeous men. And you are all with me. We are going to have a wonderful time tonight, aren’t we?”

  Wyatt moved next to her. “I don’t know, Chief. Maybe we should have let Wan send in his armed guard. I don’t know if we are going to be able to hold back the stampede of men running over their wives to get next to this vision. Christ, honey. What is that perfume you are wearing? God, Princess, we might just skip this party.”

  Lei smiled, her eyes dancing. “Uh, uh, this is my first grown up party. I’m not skipping it for anything!’’

  A long winding staircase led from their floor to the lobby of the hotel that opened to the ballroom.

  Alono and Chief went down first. Wyatt wanted to ensure that their Caballeros were in their assigned places, positioned throughout the ballroom. Wyatt’s men were prepared to guard Lei. It was one thing to protect Wyatt, given he could protect himself. Lei, on the other hand, was an open target. The crowd invited by the governor was not the problem. However, every member of an opposing Tong was a threat to Lei. The open warfare among Tongs in many of the larger cities, exacerbated the threat. Wyatt sympathized with Wan Chang. He could only imagine the pressure Wan faced trying to protect his daughter from the life he had created.

  There were murmurs from the ballroom as they came down the staircase. Guests surged to the entrance eager to see the astonishing woman accompanied by the equally astonishing man entering the lobby.

  Wyatt was behind Lei when she stepped up to the entrance to the ballroom. He turned to speak to the Chief Justice and was separated from Lei. A moment later, a scuffle broke out in front of them. Arthur Stone, who had been a friend of his and Vivian’s, was standing by Lei in the doorway.

  Wyatt heard Arthur say in a quiet, intense voice, “That is unacceptable. This woman is a guest of the governor.”

  The man standing in front of Lei replied in a loud, clear voice, “It doesn’t matter who she is a guest of. We don’t allow Chinamen or Chinawomen in this hotel. She won’t be going in.”

  Wyatt stepped forward. The guests between him and Lei separated to let him through. There was an excited murmur as the crowd in the ballroom pushed and shoved to get a better view of the unfolding drama.

  Wyatt stalked up next to Lei. He pierced the man standing in front of her with a cold smile that didn’t reach his eyes. His voice was low but no one within earshot missed the ominous undertone. “I never minimize the importance of the governor. While Lei is his guest, the more important fact is that she is my guest. Not to be argumentative, but she most certainly is going in. You, on the other hand, are not.”

  Many versions of what happened next ricocheted through the ballroom. The stories were endlessly retold to the amusement of the Caballeros, who were seated anonymously among the guests.

  What did happen was classic kung fu in the hands and feet of a grandmaster. In less than ten seconds, Wyatt turned the unlucky bigot into a bleeding, tortured mass writhing on the floor. Driving his fist up under the man’s chin, he broke both his jaw and nose with one blow. His elbow strike shattered the man’s shoulder and broke his ribs. The coup de grace, and the move that caused the loudest screams, was his full on kick to the man’s groin.

  Wyatt stepped around the screaming man. He extended his arm to Lei. “Shall we?”

  Lei was shaken, but managed a wobbly smile. Wyatt pinned her with a hard glare, willing her to find her courage. She did. When they turned to enter the room, Lei daintily stepped over the bleeding man. To avoid getting blood on either her dress or her French slippers, with a saucy tilt of her head, Lei lifted her already daring dress and smiled at the crowd. Other than the tortured shrieks of the injured man, the huge room was silent. Then two hundred voices erupted at once –a cacophony of excitement reverberating throughout the ballroom.

  Governor Benton and Wyatt’s candidate, Bernie Catron, came rushing through the crowd. The governor apologized profusely to Lei, then to Wyatt. Bernie Catron was horrified. Again and again, he told Lei how unacceptable the man’s behavior was.

  Wyatt accepted their apologies. A lazy grin crossed his face. “He doesn’t know it, but I probably saved his life. Lei’s family doesn’t take kindly to racial insults.”

  Martin came up to him and said, loudly enough for those around them to hear, “You like to make a dramatic entrance don’t you, Wyatt?”

  Wyatt responded in a mild voice. “Little hard to slip in unnoticed, Martin, when I’m accompanied by the most beautiful woman in the room.”

  He turned to Jesse, who looked lovely, but pale and shaken. In a casual voice, Wyatt said, “Good evening Jesse. You remember Lei Chang. Lei, Jesse Kendrick.”

  The two women nodded to one another. Wyatt noted with surprise and growing anger that Jesse didn’t acknowledge what happened to Lei. He was struck by the omission. Jesse was a proud suffragette. She served on the governor’s committee working to give women the vote nationally. He found it ironic and disturbing that she didn’t step up to defend another woman who had been grievously insulted.

  After they had made the rounds of the room, the governor called the gathering to order, indicating that dinner would be served. Wyatt and Lei moved to the honorary table in the center of the ballroom. They were seated with Bernie Catron and his wife, the Governor and his wife, Arthur Stone and the Chief Justice and their wives. Rounding out the table was Wyatt’s counterpart in Martin’s campaign, John Thereon, the man who had watched in amazement when Wyatt and Jesse had come from the gazebo and, finally, Jesse and Martin.

  The governor waited until the Chinese waiters serving their table had poured wine for all the guests, then rose to make a formal toast. In pseudo political even-handedness, he wished both candidates good luck and reiterated his hope for a clean, scandal-free election.

 
; Martin turned to Lei, an unctuous smile pasted on his face. He spoke slowly, enunciating his words as if she was an ignorant child. “Do you speak English, my dear? I hope so, my Chinese is somewhat rusty.”

  Wyatt asked him in fluent Chinese, “As rusty as that shriveled up two inch prick cowering in your pants?”

  The Chinese waiters covered their mouths to keep from laughing. Lei grinned, stifling a laugh. Certain Wyatt knew that neither he nor Jesse spoke Chinese, Jesse and Martin both blushed, knowing that Wyatt was ridiculing him.

  Lei turned to him with a sweet smile. “Yes, Mr. Kendrick, I do speak English. Although I admit I occasionally mix up a word or two and say it in French rather than English. Don’t I, Wyatt?”

  She rattled off a quick question in French. Wyatt winked broadly at Lei and responded in French.

  Wyatt hadn’t seen Jesse since he and Lei began their romance. He knew she must be remembering the last time he saw her. The image was not a flattering one. He had left her lying naked on the gazebo floor begging for more, as Wyatt casually walked out the door.

  He turned to her. “Has your husband always been such an asshole, Jesse?” When she looked down and didn’t answer, he asked, “Or don’t you speak English?”

  Both Martin and Jesse flushed; Martin in fury, Jesse in embarrassment. Jesse looked at Wyatt, clearly shocked at his arrogance. Wyatt held her gaze. At his visible anger, she glanced away.

  Not willing to concede defeat, Martin turned back to Lei. “Tell me about yourself, Miss Chang. Where are you from? What does your father do and which Chang family are you a part of? There seems to be so many of you.”

  Lei’s tone was cool, unruffled. “Yes, Mr. Kendrick. Chang is a common name. Unlike English names, Chinese families differentiate by their given names not their sir names. My family is originally from Canton, but I was born and grew up in California. In answer to your question, my father is a businessman like Wyatt.”

  Martin squinted pointedly at Lei’s features. “I see. Your family was able to squeak in before the exclusion act? Is it true many Chinese men married white women so that they could stay in this country? I can understand that. It’s a great country. However, the practice has created some unfortunate looking mongrels.”

  There was a loud gasp from most of the guests at the table.

  “Or stunningly beautiful people like Lei,” Arthur Stone interjected, glaring at Martin.

  Wyatt leaned back in his chair. He lit a cigar and puffed on it. He never took his gaze off Martin, who was the only person at the table who didn’t seem to appreciate the danger he was in.

  Martin went on with a sly smile. “Just one more question. I understand that you and Wyatt are not married. What do you do at Wyatt’s ranch? What services do you provide?”

  Ignoring his implied description of her relationship with Wyatt, Lei replied, “I am a martial arts student. I am training to become a kung fu master.”

  Still leaning back in his chair, Wyatt’s expression was impassive. “Lei is too modest. The move I made against that asshole in the lobby that will change the way he takes a piss for the rest of his life is one of her signature moves. Lei is a pioneer. She is changing the face of martial arts for women and changing men fighters as well. Much like the suffragette movement is changing both men and women.”

  “So you are both fighters, is that right?” queried Martin. He turned to his campaign chair and said with a snicker, “That ought to make for some interesting foreplay.”

  There was an audible gasp from everyone at the table except Wyatt. He pinned Martin with a hard glare. His eyes narrowed as if he was making a decision. Martin returned his gaze with a smirk, clearly confident he had won the round and achieved the upper hand.

  Wyatt puffed on his cigar and blew the smoke up in the air. He said with a dispassionate shrug, “Obviously you have never seen Lei fight. She’d whip my ass.”

  He ground out his cigar and sat up straight in his chair. He leaned forward and looked Martin in the eye.

  “Although I understand some men get off on having their ass whipped. In fact, they pay prostitutes to punish them – spank them -- for being bad little boys.”

  Martin’s face turned a ghastly shade of grey. His eyes widened in fear. Clutching the edge of the table, his knuckles whitened with the effort.

  Wyatt smile was cool, menacing. His eyes were hard, flashing dangerously.

  “From what the whores tell me, the costumes these men wear when they are being spanked cover a broad range. Some of them like short pants. Most, to my understanding, prefer to wear diapers or present their bare asses. The sounds and sights of grown men crying and begging to have their asses spanked makes for quite an evening’s entertainment, according to the whores.”

  Wyatt took a sip of wine. He appraised Martin thoughtfully. “I’m curious, Martin. How does a guy decide what he will wear or not wear, as the case may be, when he’s begging a whore to pull down his pants and spank his ass?”

  Martin didn’t answer. Rather, he looked away, splotches of red staining his pale cheeks.

  Wyatt mused in a conversational tone, “I guess it depends on what he wore when his mother turned him over her knee and spanked him.”

  Martin’s face was grey. Dribbles of sweat gleamed on his upper lip and shone in the creases on his forehead. He stared at the table as if it held the answer to Wyatt’s damning questions.

  Wyatt shifted in his chair and studied Jesse with insolent familiarity. A wicked grin tugged at his mouth. “To each his own, Martin. I must say it doesn’t fit my proclivities. I’ve always thought it more erotic to drive a woman to screams rather than the other way around.”

  Wyatt glanced around the table at the stunned faces of the other guests. He nodded to the servants who stood behind the guests, holding trays of food. Their eyes were as wide with shock as those of the elite.

  Wyatt said with a shrug, “Ah, good. It looks like dinner is about to be served. Perhaps now we can move to a discussion of politics and who we think is better qualified to become the next governor of our state.”

  ~~~

  Chapter 16

  Returning to their suite, Lei went to the bathroom to undress. She chose a pair of the flowing silk pants Wyatt loved and a revealing camisole. When she entered the bedroom, Wyatt was standing with his back to her, peering out the window. The tension in his neck and back were visible from across the room. She moved up next to him and reached up to rub his neck.

  When he turned to her, his face was hard. His eyes were dark, filled with the cold rage she had seen all evening. Even though she knew it wasn’t directed at her, his anger cut like a knife.

  “Why don’t you sit down, Wyatt. Let me rub your feet,” she suggested with a soft smile.

  He shook his head and pushed her away from him. His voice was harsh.

  “I don’t think that’s gonna cut it tonight, sweetheart.”

  He took off his jacket and ripped off his formal tie. His silk dress shirt was open at the neck revealing the curly black hair on his chest. The sight of it made her heart race.

  He leaned against the wall and lit a cigarette. Taking a deep drag, he studied her face through half closed eyes. His eyes narrowed further. With a jerk of his chin he motioned to her.

  She didn’t understand what he wanted. He scowled at her uncertainty, pointing to a place in front of him. “Kneel here.”

  She stepped back, shocked. Seeing his cock jutting out against the tight fabric of his pants she felt the familiar rush of desire that made her knees shake. Pushing down her fear, she moved to where he was pointing. Taking a deep breath, she sunk to her knees. She smelled his skin through his trousers, a mix of fresh soap and a hot musky animal smell. She wanted to touch him, but was uncertain how.

  She looked up at him and saw him watching her. His eyes gleamed like an animal stalking his prey. She said as calmly as she could, “I…I don’t know what to do.”

  He took a drag off of his cigarette. As he blew the smoke up in the
air, his lips curled in an unpleasant smirk. “You’re smart, figure it out.”

  Wanting the comfort of his mouth on hers, she stood and reached up to kiss him. He shook his head. “Uh, uh.”

  Lei trembled with a mix of desire and apprehension. God, she thought, what do I do?

  Her fingers shaking, she unbuttoned his shirt and pulled it out of his trousers. Seeing his bare skin and smelling the strong smell that drove her crazy she wound her fingers in the curly hair on his chest and pulled him closer. She stroked one flat brown nipple with the tip of her finger, surprised to feel him twitch in response. He gasped when she put her mouth around one nipple and sucked it. She sucked one nipple and then the other, then bit the tips the way he did to her. To her surprise, the sounds of his breath ratcheted higher.

  She stopped thinking about what she was supposed to do and started to do what she wanted to. She sucked then twisted both nipples. When she tugged on them, pinched them, she heard him moan and felt the muscles in his thighs tighten. Reaching down, she opened the top button of his pants and sunk to her knees. The hair just below his navel was hot and sweaty. Grasping his hips she buried her tongue in the wiry curls, tugging at the sensitive roots. Hearing the hard male groan in his chest, her gut twisted in response.

  Peeking up at him, she saw that his usual lazy mocking smile was gone. Instead, she saw the desire that was roiling over her mirrored on his face. Unbuttoning his pants, one button at a time, she kissed each new bared spot. Burying her tongue in the curly hair of his groin, she licked and bit the skin beneath. He gasped, breathing out a soft moan.

  She unbuttoned the last button and spread his pants open. Without looking up or asking for permission, she pushed his trousers down to his knees, taking his underwear with them. His cock thrust up long and hard against his belly reaching past his navel. She was startled at its length and impressive width. She wondered if her small hand could encircle it. Taking it in both hands she pulled him to her, laying her cheek against the throbbing organ. His groan ignited her desire and piqued her interest. Tugging back the foreskin, she saw a pearly drop of pre cum on the end of his cock. Surprising herself, she longed to lick it, taste it. Tentatively darting out her pointed tongue she swiped the end of his cock licking off the tangy moisture. Entranced as much by the musky salty taste as by his startled twitch, she pulled him firmly to her. She ran her tongue around the swollen end softly at first, then harder thrilling when his taut thighs contracted and he sucked in a ragged breath. She took the end of his cock in her mouth and sucked in earnest eliciting a sharp gasp.