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

by Taylor Lee

  She looked at Lei, then at her father. For the first time, she had an inkling of what it must be like to be crazy in love with a powerful dominating man. Especially if you were as feisty and outspoken as Lei was. She was tempted to ask them if he had ever spanked her, but then blushed, already certain of the answer.

  She gave them both a sad smile. “Are you comparing yourselves to Bai and me? If so, the difference is that you love each other and he hates me. Actually, it’s worse than that, he despises me.”

  Lei and Wyatt exchanged a look. Wyatt unwound his large frame and moved over next to Elena. He put his arm around her and whispered, “C’mon over here, darlin’.”

  Given her fragile emotional state, that was all it took, and she burst into tears.

  Wyatt hugged her tight and kissed her cheek. “Elena, I’m going to fill you in on some of the devils we men battle and try to keep women from knowing about. Bai doesn’t hate you. And he sure as hell doesn’t despise you, anymore than you hate or despise him.” He smiled when she looked down, her blush acknowledging what he said about her at least was true. “My guess is that he is trying damn hard not to admit he is in love with you -- either to you, or to himself.”

  Elena hiccupped a sob, then swiped at the tears on her cheeks. “Father, you don’t understand. He wants to send me back to Cheyenne. He is waiting for me to do something wrong so he can put me on a train to Cheyenne after he spanks me so hard I can’t sit down. Does that sound like a man who is in love with me?”

  Lei and Wyatt said simultaneously, “Yes, it does!” They looked at each other, surprised at their unintentional unanimity, and laughed out loud.

  Elena laughed, too, but her laugh was fraught with tears.

  Wyatt held her tighter, his face more serious.

  “Honey, sometimes it’s hard for us tough guys, those of us who are used to being in charge, to ask for what we want, especially if we think we’ll be turned down. It’s that fucking male pride. But, baby, you don’t have to accept that. Ask Lei. Hell, honey, you know better than most, if you want something bad enough, you have to fight for it.”

  Elena looked at him and then at Lei and thought for a minute. “What if I do that and he laughs at me. He has in the past.”

  Lei broke in. “Elena, there is always a chance that could happen. But many times, the anger can get so intense, so out of hand, it takes one of you to take a risk and change the conversation. Sometimes the person you least expect can change it the most.”

  Wyatt tipped her chin up to his face. His face was solemn, his voice was serious. “Baby, Lei is right. I’m gonna go out on a limb here. I’m gonna tell you flat out. If you know what it is you want, then take a chance. Go out and get it. I promise you, he won’t say no.”

  It was getting late when they returned to the compound. Wyatt was taking Lei to San Francisco to catch the early morning train to Cheyenne. Wan and Wyatt agreed that Wyatt should come back to the compound until the issues with the Rongue Ri were settled. After they walked Elena back to her chambers, Lei and Wyatt got ready to leave for San Francisco. They were quiet thinking over the conversation with their lovely vulnerable daughter.

  Wyatt lit a cigarette and shook his head with a rueful grin. “Christ, Lei. I hope to God he is up to her.”

  She smiled and gave him a reassuring kiss. “He is. Even better, she is up to him.”

  ~~~

  Elena lay in the bathtub long after the water had cooled. She told herself that she wanted to relax in the scented water, but knew she was postponing her decision. Since she talked with Lei and her father, she knew what she wanted to do, but wondered if she had the courage to do it. Remembering what Lei and Wyatt both said about taking a chance, she got out of the tub, dried herself off, and went to her closet, trying to decide what to wear.

  She debated whether she would wear a dress or a skirt and blouse. Even though it made most sense to wear a robe and nightgown, she thought with a grimace. But Bai had specifically said that it wasn’t interesting to undress someone who was practically naked. But did it make sense to put on layers of clothes when it was almost eleven o’clock and she had just had a bath? Oh, God, she thought, I really do not know how to do this. I should have asked Lei. She would know what to do.

  After much uncertainty, she decided she would wear her grey skirt with the slit up the front and the silk blouse that Bai seemed to like. Underneath, she’d wear her lacy silk camisole and French drawers. The French drawers were particularly daring. Lei had given them to her and said her father loved them. At the time, Elena wasn’t sure what she meant, but now she knew. They were cut high and cupped her ass, making her long slim legs even more enticing. She pulled on her grey lizard skin high heeled boots, ensuring they showed through the slit in the front of the skirt. A brief attempt to contain her curls with jeweled combs was unsuccessful, as usual. Even before she left her chambers, stray curls were springing free.

  The process of getting dressed had taken her mind off what she was doing. It wasn’t until she left her chambers, locking the door behind her and heading into the garden, that she froze with fear. Trembling, she hesitated and almost ran back to her chambers. Forcing herself to remember what her father said about courage, with a determined look on her face, she walked quickly through the garden to Bai’s office. She knocked on the door. When no one answered, she steeled her spine and opened the door. To her dismay, the room was dark, empty. He wasn’t there. Crushing disappointment flooded over her. She couldn’t believe it. All of this worry and fear. Now he wasn’t here? Frustrated tears stung the backs of her eyelids.

  Leaning against the doorway, she tried to decide if she was relieved or incredibly disappointed. She turned to go back through the garden when she remembered that Bai’s chambers adjoined his office and the door was on the other side of the garden wall. Before she could think through her decision, she walked quickly to his door and knocked, praying to God he wasn’t there. But before she could run, she heard his footsteps. He was coming to the door.

  ~~

  Chapter 24

  Bai spent nearly ten hours holed up with Wan and Nianzu and other Sing Leon preparing for the conclave. He was exhausted and needed to rest. His body ached. The muscles on his neck were stiff. He dug his fingers in the tight knots to relieve some of the pressure. Returning to his chambers, he lit a fire in the fireplace. Pouring himself a glass of bourbon, he took off his jacket and prepared to settle in for a night of reading. Though he was tired, he knew that if he went to bed he would do what he had avoided doing all day, and that was to think about Elena.

  To amuse himself, or more likely, he thought, to torment himself, he wondered what would have happened if he had taken Wyatt up on his offer to join them for an afternoon ride and a picnic. It sounded normal, easy, until he imagined what Elena would have done when she saw him. He was certain she would have refused to go, or, if she did, would have painstakingly avoided him throughout the day. He reminded himself that they would never be able to do things like that together. Surprised at the sense of loss he felt, he turned back to his reading.

  He loosened the collar on his shirt and stood up to bring the bottle of bourbon next to his chair, when he heard a knock on his door. Frowning, he went to the door, annoyed at the unexpected interruption. He opened the door and, to his surprise, Elena stood in the doorway. She was wearing that grey skirt with the slit up the front and the white silk blouse that made his prick swell whenever she wore it. Her hair was pulled back, the usual wispy curls springing free, shadowing her face and neck. She looked like a vision until he saw her eyes. The vision was terrified.

  They stared at each other, unmoving for a long moment. As Bai stood in the doorway looking at her, he knew he should turn her away. He didn’t try to hide his irritation and she paled even more. She closed her eyes, then swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

  As if willing her breath steady, she gazed up at him and asked, “What are the rules?”

  It took him a good ten seconds to
understand her reference, then another ten seconds to decide how to respond. Even though she looked terrified, his first thought was that she was doing what she had done in the garden -- playing her usual game, flirting recklessly but ready to scream for help when he responded to her.

  He felt his face harden. But hell, she was here. The least he could do was torment her. Deciding to take her on, he gave a dispassionate shrug.

  “The first rule is that I make the rules.”

  She startled, choking slightly. Her indecision was clear-- as was his. He glared at her and held her gaze --- daring her to respond. She hesitated, then straightened her shoulders. She took another deep breath and asked in a quavering voice, “May I come in?”

  He gave her a dismissive smile. “As long as you understand the rules.”

  She nodded and stepped in front of him. She lifted her chin and resolutely walked into the room.

  He closed the door behind her, making a point of locking it. He stood with his back to the door. He leaned against it with his arms folded across his chest, looking at her with a sardonic smile.

  She stood for a moment, glancing around the room, first at the flames dancing in the fireplace and then her gaze landed on the large four poster bed. She visibly paled and squeezed her eyes shut, as if to block out the image she saw in her mind.

  He almost laughed, knowing what she was thinking, but more than amusement, he felt his fury rise. He wondered how long it would take her to burst into tears and insist that she leave.

  He purposefully raked his eyes over her body, staring rudely at the swell of her breasts, her slender waist, her curvaceous hips. Willing his cock to settle down, he openly leered at her, a mocking smile twisting his lips.

  She glanced uncertainly at her clothes, then flushed with embarrassment.

  Nervously biting her lip, she stammered, “I…I know these clothes are…are silly in the middle of the night … but…you said it wasn’t interesting to undress someone who was practically naked. But I...I didn’t know what would be interesting.”

  She finished with a pained rush of words. Her face flamed, tears threatened in her eyes.

  He stifled his amusement as best he could, but a glimmer of a smile broke through. He nodded and said in as serious a voice as he could manage, “Good choice.”

  When he saw her shoulders relax and heard her sigh of relief, he was glad he hadn’t been a complete asshole and laughed at her.

  Bai walked over to the fireplace and stoked the logs. He kept his back to her, trying to decide if he wanted to play her game. He didn’t believe she was serious. Even if she thought she was, he was sure she would renege when things exceeded her control. Wary at best, angry at worst, he closed his eyes to consider his options. He decided to do what he told her today that he would. He would not play her game, he would play his. And he would make the rules.

  With an indifferent nod of his head, he walked over to the bed and took the quilt from the foot of the bed, tossing it on the floor in front of the fireplace. He leaned down and spread the quilt making a small pallet before the fire. He dropped a pillow from the sofa on the floor and then another. Taking several more pillows from the bed, he pitched them off to the side.

  Relishing her startled reaction, he said with a nonchalant smile, “For your hips.”

  She stared at him, her eyes wide and dark, her lips trembling. She nibbled at them nervously. He refilled his glass, then sat in the armchair by the fire, appraising her with a cynical smile. Looking through half closed eyes at her pale beautiful face, he lit one of his slender cigars and took several puffs on it, blowing the aromatic smoke up in the air. He motioned to her to come over and stand in front of him. She came and stood where he pointed.

  He nodded and puffed again on his cigar. “The second rule is that you take off your blouse.”

  When she hesitated, he took a sip of bourbon and gazed at her, openly taunting her, testing her.

  She smiled hesitantly and licked her lips nervously, then gave him a shaky smile. . Seeming to gather her courage, she began to unbutton her blouse. His jaw clenched slightly when she fumbled with the buttons, then slowly let it slide off her shoulders. She held it for a brief moment, then expelling a wispy breath, she let it fall to the floor.

  He studied the lacy camisole that she was wearing. Seeing the swell of her breasts against the silky fabric, he quirked an eyebrow and smiled appreciatively, trying to keep his breath steady. “Now your skirt.”

  He watched her face flush and she looked down. But, then, to his surprise, she peeked up at him with a shy smile. She reached around behind her to the buttons on the back of her skirt and began to release them. She had to twist to reach them. When she did, her camisole slipped, giving him a tantalizing view of the top swell of her breasts.

  Bai took another puff off his cigar, wondering where the hell this was going. Part of the answer came when she bent over, further exposing her breasts. She pushed her skirt down, daintily stepping out of it. She let the skirt sink to the floor and stood up, revealing the sexiest fucking pair of drawers he ever saw. Unlike the thigh length drawers the most daring of Madam Couchette’s whores wore, Elena’s drawers were so short that they cupped her ass. Their abbreviated length emphasized her long, athletic legs. As if that wasn’t enough, when she bent over to take off her skirt, he could swear he saw a tiny curl of soft hair protruding from the edge of the crotch. The red tint of the tuft sent a rush of blood to his already burgeoning prick.

  She stood up straight, next to naked, in her lace camisole, French drawers, and her fucking lizard-skin knee-high boots. Her face was a warm pink, her eyes wide. She hesitated and nibbled on her lower lip waiting for his orders.

  He managed to keep his voice steady, even though his heart was racing and his prick was hard as iron.

  “Ah, yes, cherie. Now a difficult decision for me. Do I have you take off those sexy boots before I have you remove your camisole? Or, do I have you show me your beautiful breasts dressed only in those outrageous drawers and your boots?”

  She waited for his instructions, then with a saucy toss of her head, took a deep breath and said, “You’re making the rules.”

  He studied her through half closed eyes, shaking his head at her pert reply. Holy Christ! What if she is for real, he thought, stopping any pretense of trying to quiet his cock. But something about her sauciness made him want to taunt her, test her, and, yeah, fucking control her.

  “Cherie, take off your camisole. But before you do, take down your hair.”

  Her eyes widened in surprise, but she reached up and removed the combs. She shook her head and her hair fell down her back in a cascade of fiery copper and gold curls. His cock responded like it had been lit on fire.

  “Thank you. Now, the camisole.”

  Once again, she had to twist behind her to free the buttons. She flushed and closed her eyes, as if by keeping them closed she wouldn’t be able to see what she was doing and neither would he. She held the camisole over her breasts for a moment and then let it drop.

  He took another puff on his cigar, and put his head back, blowing the smoke up in the air, then stared at what he was sure were the most beautiful breasts he had seen. They were much fuller than they appeared when she was clothed, or in his brief tortured glimpses at the waterfall. And, Christ, her nipples. They were soft full pink tips that he knew he could spend a lifetime sucking.

  She flushed and looked at him uncertainly as if she didn’t understand the way that he was looking at her. She whispered, “Are they okay?”

  He gave a small involuntary snort and said with a soft smile, “Qui, mademoiselle, they are most certainly ‘okay.’”

  A sardonic smile crossed his lips when her exposed nipples tightened and peaked.

  “You seem to like baring your breasts for me,” he said, unsuccessfully trying to stifle the rising lust that had his prick jamming against the front of his trousers.

  She shook her head, not understanding.

  “Look at
you, cherie,” he said with a mocking leer. “Just knowing that I am staring at your naked breasts makes your nipples hard.”

  Elena looked down almost in wonder at the puckered flesh then blushed and quickly put her hands up to cover her breasts.

  “Uh, uh. Non, non. You don’t hide from me. Don’t ever hide from me. You have no inhibitions, no inhibitions with me, cherie. Your body is mine.

  “It’s a rule,” he added with a wicked grin, motioning to her to put her hands down.

  Her eyes opened wide and, blushing brighter, she slowly lowered her hands to her sides. Bai’s eyes narrowed in appreciation at the enticing sight.

  He asked in a quiet voice, “What happens if you touch your nipples – just the tips? Do they get harder?”

  She paled and swallowed hard. She squeezed her eyes tight and when she opened them he thought he saw tears. Again, she took a deep breath and whispered, “Do you…want…me… to touch them?”

  He took a sip of bourbon and nodded, looking and feeling more and more like a predator wolf.

  “Is it a rule?” Her voice was soft, shy.

  “Yes, cherie, it is a rule.”

  She kept looking at him, but reached up and touched one nipple tentatively and gasped when it stiffened to a dusty pink point. She touched the other nipple and her eyes widened when it did the same.

  She whispered in surprise, “I know this happens when you hold me. But I’m surprised that I can make it happen, too.”

  “Do you think it might be that you are standing in front of me naked except for your drawers and sexy boots?” he drawled, puffing on his cigar.

  She hesitated, and for the first time, he thought she was going to renege. His jaw clenched and he felt a quick rush of anger.

  Instead she said, “Bai?”

  “Yes, cherie?”

  “Can you…will you…will you hold me? I don’t want to stand here any longer. I need you to hold me and tell me this is all right. I can’t tell by the way you are looking at me if you like me or if you are making fun of me.”