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As soon as she voiced her probing question, the Young Master's back muscles abruptly stiffened. Fragrant smoke curled up from the incense burner and drifted through the Gauze Bed Curtain suffused with morning light, winding tightly around the rising heat and intimate stillness between them.

His reaction made her frown in displeasure. Her lips drew slightly away from his burning white skin, then parted, her teeth pressing against flesh as fair as warm jade. She bit down, neither gently nor hard.

A low moan, sounding both pained and blissful, reached her ears. The next instant, her bold, unrestrained teasing was interrupted. An arm hauled her onto the bed, sending her tumbling faceup into the Soft Quilt. She had just arched up to rise when a dark shadow settled squarely over her. The Young Master leaned down, kneeling with his knees on either side of her, and pinned both her hands high above her head. His disheveled, silky black hair spilled over her nose, lips, and neck, and the voice that had just uttered □□ sounded again...

"If that's so, how does Little Eight intend to comfort me?" His ink-dark eyes, framed by butterfly-wing lashes, slowly opened and closed again, their languor stirring her heart even more than his words. "Like this?" He turned his face and lowered his head, nuzzling and breathing in her scent beside her neck, yet never quite touching her.

"Or like this?" His lashes drooped, a faintly wounded look spilling from his eyes as he took her hand and brought it to his chest. "Which is the reaction you think the Young Master you like ought to have?"

"..."

"Which would make you believe I'm me?"

He knew she was testing him... This wasn't comfort. She was testing Lord Li, the Prime Minister's son. She suspected