Cao jiggled the knob of the door, but it was locked. Dammit. He raced through the bedroom to the other door and twisted the knob, flinging open the door. Ling screamed again, from the shower.

“Ling?” He charged inside, grabbed the shower curtain, and tore it to the side.

A very nude and unharmed Ling screeched again, this time at him while clumsily sliding her hands to cover her breasts.

“What the hell, Cao?” she squawked.

He blinked, unable to tear his admiration off that luscious, bared flesh. “You screamed,” he snapped back.

“Yeah. Spider.” She jammed a finger toward the corner of the stall, where a furry, eight-legged insect likely laughed his ass off at them. “I thought you said this place was safe.”

Cao smacked a hand against his forehead. “It’s just a spider.”

“To you, maybe.”

He made the mistake of slanting his perusal in her direction. Yep, as naked as before.

Gods. He swallowed hard and fisted his hand to control his stiffening cock. She stood in profile to him, with her arms crossed over her breasts, so there wasn’t much to spy. Except her delicious, smooth skin. Long, long legs ending in an ass so tight he longed to nip at it and test for himself how toned she was.

“Could you please stop staring at me and kill that thing?” she rasped, drawing his attention to the bug.

He squeezed his eyes once and swung to face the monster again. Can’t really hate you for this, buddy. He coaxed the spider onto his outstretched hand. “Come with me.” Clenching his jaw, he did his damnedest not to look in her direction as he made for the door.

“Wait, you’re not killing it?”

Frozen in the doorframe, he cocked his head to the side. “He’s harmless. Don’t worry, I’ll put him outside.”

Ling’s puffing seethed behind him, but he managed to escape, unscathed. Like this little guy. He typed the code onto the keypad and opened the screen door to the balcony. Picking a nice green plant, he deposited the spider onto it. “Here ya go. Stay outside or I can’t promise you’ll be safe next time.”

As the spider crawled away from him, he took a moment to breathe. Glancing down, he noted he’d have to do more than that. His rigid hard-on bulged the front of his jeans.

Fuck.

He hated being right.

Ling was hiding a hell of a lot beneath her disguise. Like a wickedly hot body.

One he’d love to pound himself into with abandon.

Screw this. He whipped his head, pretty sure guardians weren’t allowed to fraternize with their wards.

Guardian.

Who would have guessed? The Jade Emperor had at last handed him a pass. Well, if he got Ling through whatever this mess was first. Seeking clarity, he took the stairs two at a time to his gym. After shrugging off his jacket, shirt, and boots, he snatched a staff to train with, tossing it between his hands.

One simple task and his name would be cleared. Centuries of burden would be lifted from his shoulders. He caught a glimpse of his forearm and the bands circling his skin. These tats would at last be gone from his arms. He’d finally be free of the past.

So this talk of getting someone else to help her? He fisted his hands, crushing his arousal. Not ever happening.

Not. Ever.

* * *

One eye trained on the open doorway, Ling finished her shower. The calm and relaxation she’d enjoyed was gone. Gods, the smoldering embers in Cao’s eyes when he’d ogled her naked…

She shivered and cranked the heat on the water, before switching it off and stepping out.

One devastating look from him had crushed her protests.

Did her grandmother have to place someone so hot and brooding as her guardian? This was going to be hell.

Huffing, she plucked her clothes, grimacing at the rain of ashes falling from them. Yeah, no way was she putting these back on.

Instead, she wrapped the towel around herself and unlocked the door, poking her head out. “Ah, Cao?” she called softly, but no one answered.

Had he left her alone? To go be with his spider buddy. Ha. She snorted and padded into the living room. The open-concept living space wasn’t overly large but cozy enough. The kitchen was decked out like a professional chef’s personal getaway, with dark gray marble countertops and matching cupboards surrounding a massive stove. An eight-foot-long rectangular island stood between the kitchen and the living space, several barstools lined along its sides. The living room sported a similar color theme, with touches of blue in the pillows resting on the L-shaped sofa that faced a massive flat-screen television. Of course.

No pictures on the walls, but this seemed more than a safe house. It appeared well-lived in. Why else would he bring his hookups to this place?

What other secrets did Cao hide?

Scuffling carried to her from the open staircase on the far right of the flat. Tentatively, she wound upward, peeking around the wall at the top.

Cao stood in the center of the room, bare-chested and bare-footed, and wielding a thin wooden rod as tall as he was. She gulped at the sight of all that gorgeous man flesh, then tore her focus away, only to glance at his discarded jacket, shirt, and boots.

She had every intention of asking him for clothes, but as she gazed up again, the words caught in her throat and his movements mesmerized her. Cao wielded the staff like it was a fifth limb, striking and blocking blows from an imaginary foe. His footwork was meticulous, each step precise. The control in his body—mind-blowing. Every muscle in his body flexed and strained while he battled. She squinted closer and caught faint lines half-circling his arms. Tats? From his wrists to his shoulders, every inch or so, was a black band. Some were thicker and some thinner. Odd. What did they mean?

She braced against the wall, enjoying watching him. Immortal he might be, that body was a work of art. It must’ve taken timeless hours of dedication and training to sculpt to that degree of perfection. Indeed, his body was a powerful weapon.

A beautiful, powerful weapon. His skin was that warm, rich, gold tone, the kind which just had to look at the sun to be perfectly tanned. Sure enough, no tan lines marred his flawless, smooth skin. At least, not ones she could spy. Her appreciation dipped to his eight-pack abs and the delicious ‘v’ framing them. Who knew what lay beneath those jeans? Gods, why do I want to find out?

She shifted, her core growing uncomfortably hot and needy. He lifted the staff above his head, flexing thick, ropy triceps, and she definitely got a little wetter.

A light sheen of sweat augmented every hard angle of him, including those delicious scale-patterned ridges, right beneath his pectorals, on the sides, that super ripped guys had. Her fingertips ached with her desire to trace every one of them.

Perhaps, her tongue to lick them, too.

She didn’t have to like him, or trust him, but it was pretty hard to deny how attracted to him she was. A pity such beauty existed in an immortal.

Ling sighed and Cao spun toward her. His eyes widened, and then darkened, narrowing in intensity, and suggesting that everything she felt, so did he.

* * *

Holy shit. Cao tensed, admiring an almost naked Ling. Again. How the hell had she snuck up on him? Were his senses so out of tune? His mind was a whirlwind, so he’d lost himself in training to re-center his focus.

In his doorway, Ling propped against the wall, a wet, white towel wrapped around her torso, and hair down to her waist draped about her shoulders. Those dark, damp locks curled around her face, framing the most remarkable eyes.

Silver. They carried a gleam; the candles lit in this room reflected in those molten pools. “I thought your eyes were brown,” he murmured, flipping the rod to his left hand and leaning against it.

Shock widened her eyes and she shot her hand up to her face, but must’ve realized she wasn’t wearing her glasses. Another disguise?

“They…are…not.” She cleared her throat and lowered her head in defeat. Ha. He’d peeled away another layer of her disguise.

His muscles tensed and danced beneath her scrutiny of his chest. He quirked his lips. Did she like what she saw?

“I need clothes,” she bleated, her stare dragging to his face.

He tilted his head. “On the bed, in the bedroom. I found something that might fit you.” Though, damn. The oversized clothes she’d worn had hidden her petite frame. He arched one brow at the flush blooming across her cheeks.

“Not your clothes. My own.”

He drew his brows together. “I don’t think that’s possible. Don’t you remember the pile of rubble?”

“That wasn’t my home,” she panted, heavy, making her breasts swell harder against that damn towel. He swallowed thickly. “I live in the next building over. I get that I can’t stay there, but I need my things.”

He scraped his free hand across the back of his neck. “Okay, sure. I’ll go grab them.”

“No. I have to get them.” She scrunched her slender nose at him.

“Sorry, that’s a no. You’re not leaving this place. It’s not safe yet.” Anger seethed beneath her pouty lips, so he added, “Give me a list and I promise to get everything. Yeah?”

“Fine.” Resignation eased her expression, and she darted back down the staircase.

He released a low, slow exhale and tried to get a grasp on his stiffness. Damn, but the woman did things to him.

By the time he made it downstairs, she stood in the living room, dressed in one of his shirts and pajama pants, a piece of paper in her outstretched hand, one foot tapping impatiently. Such fire and sass. The oversized clothes, combined with her disheveled, damp hair, tempted him with naughty images he promptly shoved aside.

“Let me get cleaned up first.” He hid a smile and headed for the shower.

“Fine,” she huffed as he breezed past.

A two-minute shower was enough to wash the ashes and sweat from his body. He changed into fresh clothes, shouldered a couple of duffle bags, and snatched the note from Ling.

“Wait. Don’t you need my keys?” She bent toward the pile of her things, then mumbled a curse. Doubtful she’d had them on her when the shop exploded.

No worries. He chuckled. “You have read my file, right?”

Ling straightened and distaste knitted her features. “Why, yes. You’re quite the master thief, aren’t you.”

Her accusation wasn’t wrong, but the disapproval still stung. He’d come by those skills honestly. They ran through his blood. “I’ll be right back. Don’t leave this apartment. Trust me on this, please?” He breathed in a sigh of relief at the acquiescence in the bob of her head. Good.

Her place wasn’t far from his and, within twenty minutes, he was standing in her doorway, peeking inside. He could’ve picked the lock when he was five. Have to have a word with Ling about that. Other than his own, he didn’t detect any signs of break-in or movement within the apartment. Whoever had bombed the shop obviously had concluded the same as he—she lived in that building, and not this one.

Yet, he wouldn’t take the chance of anyone spotting her. Cao strolled inside, cautiously stealing around the kitchen, into the living space, and toward the bedroom. Her home was quaint and cozy, with dozens of framed pictures scattered on the walls and knickknacks arranged on the shelves. In the pictures, a smiling Ling and her loved ones beamed their cheer at him. So different from his home.

Cao pulled the note from his jeans pocket and read the elegant penning. Clothes. Toiletries. Ha. She didn’t like all that shit he’d collected over the years. He stepped to the dresser and opened a random drawer, freezing at the sight of her panties and socks, sorted fastidiously. Huh. Guess they had some things in common.

He examined the list. How many of these did she want?

How long was she planning on staying?

His heart skipped a beat. Someday, she’d be gone. Out of his life.

Hell. He grabbed several handfuls of everything and started stuffing the first duffle bag. After opening the drawers, he aimlessly tossed in as much as he could fit. He wouldn’t risk coming back a second time.

He strode to the dresser by the bed. People often kept important things there. He opened the top drawer. Half a dozen sex toys winked at him. Well, fuck me. Or rather, fuck her.

Heat flushed through him and he shifted his feet. A rainbow of vibrators and lotions, and one hell of an ugly blue dildo. Ling wasn’t as tightly wound as she gave the impression of being.

Gods. The image of her, face tense with pleasure, crashed through his mind and he slammed the drawer shut.

No way was he bringing any of that to his place, where he’d have to listen to her…

Nah uhn.

He raked his fingers through his hair and squinted at the note again.

“I hoped to find you here,” a feminine voice chimed from the bedroom doorway.

Cao whipped toward the greeting and spotted a familiar figure in a red cheongsam. Regal. Coolly composed with her fingers linked in front of her.

It was the Matchmaker.

“M.” He dipped his head in greeting and shuffled as far from the drawer as seemed natural. What the fuck was she doing here?

“Thank you for saving Ling today.” A hint of fondness poured from the curving of her blood red lips.

“Didn’t have much choice,” he droned. “Or warning.”

“Some things are better that way.” The woman dismissed his concern and angled her head. “Do you still possess the stone?”

“Yes.” He pressed a hand to his jacket pocket and stuck his fingers inside to pull out the stone, but M waved him off.

“Good. Do not lose it.”

He had no idea what this rock was, and no one appeared willing to clue him in, including M.

She eyed the duffle bags. “Ling must locate the other stones. It is my hope you will serve as her protection while she does.”

Other stones? He nodded and filed the information away for later. “I can do that.”

“In exchange, the Jade Emperor is willing to,” her scrutiny flashed to his arm, “forgive.”

He forced himself to remain calm. “I’ve been waiting a long time for that.”

“Indeed.” She inclined her head. “I fathom your desperation.”

Squinting, he perused her. Why would she say that?

“Ling is special.” The Matchmaker interrupted his musings. “So very special, Cao.” Her vivid gaze flashed to his. “You must protect her at all costs.” That stare peered straight into his soul. “At. All. Costs.”

Numbly, he bobbed his head.

“Even she doesn’t know this. When the time comes, you must help her accept her fate. Accept who she is,” M pressed.

“And that would be…?” He searched her expression for any hints and came up empty.

“I’ll tell you more the next time we meet. For now, Ling is waiting.” She swept her elegantly manicured hand toward the duffle bags. “Go to her, and keep her safe. I have not yet determined who intended her harm.”

“I will.” Following the direction she pointed, he frowned at the bags. They were full. How in the hell?

He whipped around to ask M, but she was gone.