She shrieked and dropped herépée.
His expression studiously neutral, he flicked his sword toward hers. “Pick it up. Keep your eye on myépée.”
Her pulse thrummed in her ears and her hands shook slightly. But some part of her refused to back down from this.
Biting her inner cheek, she did as he asked.
Again, he charged.
Again, she lost her nerve and dropped her sword before making contact.
“You’re braver than this. There is a fighter in ye, lass.” He motioned for her to pick up the sword again. “Try again. I’ll go more slowly.”
Taking in a deep breath, she picked up the sword.
“You’re over-thinking,” he offered. “Shut your mind off. Allow your body to take over. Your muscles will remember, even if ye do not.”
The fencing foildidfeel familiar in her hand, balanced and smooth. She could envision it as an extension of her arm.
He attacked once more.
She managed to hit his blade one time, but the metallic clang and vibration along her arm startled her into dropping herépéeagain.
He waited patiently for her to pick it up.
Abruptly, she saw him on the deck of a ship, sword in hand, the same quiet intensity in his eyes.
“Come along, Jamie.” Fire flashed in his pale eyes as he swished his rapier. Dressed in only shirt sleeves and trousers, she decided it was a sin for any man to be so lethally handsome. One glimpse of the bunched muscle of his shoulders and her mind instantly rolled into the gutter. “Why are ye refusing tae push yourself today?”
She took in a slow, stuttering breath, forcing the memory back. The rogue sense that she had found him just as powerfully attractive then as she did now.
She could not allow this.
“En garde,” he said.
She nodded and raised her own weapon.
She would fight the siren call of him, metaphorically and literally.
This time when he attacked, she allowed her body to take over, to react instinctively.
Their swords clashed. She blocked his slash to the right, retaliated to the left, and then darted out of reach.
“Good,” he barked. “Again.”
She dashed in and the battle was on. Their blades crossed, in and out, as they circled one another. Her mind noted that he was moving more slowly than he could, that he could disarm her, but he was choosing not to.
Some unknown part of her responded.
How dare he assume her so weak! She could best him.
Shewouldbest him!
She began to move faster and faster—slicing left, feinting right—her movements more sure.
She was pure instinct.
No thought.
