“Elbow me.”
She did so, gently.
He chuckled. “You’ll want to hit a little harder than that.”
She frowned. “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“You won’t. I promise. You need to practice using more force.” When she still hesitated, he leaned in, his warm breath teasing the sensitive skin behind her ear. “Come on, Amryn. Let your harpy out.”
She snorted, a little breathless. “What is it with you and your fascination with harpies?”
“I’m only fascinated byoneharpy,” he corrected. He brushed a kiss to the sensitive skin beneath her ear, and a shiver ran through her. “It’s quite a strong fascination, though,” he admitted softly.
Pulse racing, Amryn whispered, “I think I’m getting that.”
“Good,” he said, humor staining his voice. His hold tightened. “Try to break free.”
She took a breath, then did as he’d instructed. She dropped her weight and threw an elbow into his stomach—Saints, it was a wall of solid muscle. Her elbow throbbed, but she shoved against his hold.
She broke free. A thrill shot through her, and she spun back to face him.
His smile was wide, satisfaction filling them both. “Good. Let’s try it again.”
They did, practicing the move until she could do it seamlessly. Then he taught her another technique, and they practiced that.
It didn’t take long before Amryn was breathing hard. She was grateful for the towering shade trees that protected them from the late afternoon sun. And while Carver never hurt her, his grip was strong. It was a little jarring, since he had been treating her with extreme gentleness while her bruises from Market Square had faded. But even though her face grew hot and sweat dripped down her spine, she wasn’t ready for this to end. It didn’t matter if every touch from Carver was instructional, it still lit her up, making her skin tingle pleasantly. When his hand brushed her hip to correct her stance, her heart tripped—then raced. And when she did something right, the smile he’d flash . . . Her knees weakened every time.
She barely registered the passage of time. She got lost in all that Carver was teaching her, letting a new sense of empowerment fill her. All she knew was the softness of the grass underfoot, the citrus scent of fruit growing in the nearby orchard, and the ache in her muscles as she repeated the same move again and again.
While she was gaining confidence, there were moments of frustration. Like when her skirt tangled around her legs and nearly tripped her as she spun free from one of Carver’s holds.
She kicked at the billowing fabric. “This really isn’t fair. My skirt keeps getting in the way.”
“It’s not fair,” Carver agreed. “But since you’ll most likely be wearing a dress when you’re attacked, that’s what you need to practice in. For now, at least. My sisters sometimes use training leathers.” His eyes shined, flirtation in his voice as he said, “I’m more than happy to get you a pair.”
Her cheeks burned at the thought. She’d seen men in fighting leathers. She couldn’t imagine a woman wearing such a fitted thing, let alone wearing something so indecent herself.
“Let’s try it again,” he said.
She turned, and he grabbed her from behind. She tore away as they’d practiced, but Carver grasped her wrist, jerking her retreat to a sudden stop.
She froze, thrown by his unexpected move. He’d never grabbed her once she’d gotten free. But they’d trained for this hold, too.
She pushed forward, breaking the tension in their arms. With a hard twist, her wrist broke free.
Unfortunately, her victory was short-lived.
Carver dove forward, snatching hold of her. He dragged her closer, and Amryn’s foot caught his, tripping him.
A scream strangled in her throat as they both fell, his hands locked tightly on her waist.
He hit the ground first, a grunt exploding out as she landed on top of him. Her hands splayed across his chest, her head rearing back to keep their foreheads from hitting.
Their breaths tangled harshly in the air between them, the only sound for a long moment. Their faces were mere inches apart as they both breathed hard, their bodies flush against each other.
“Are you all right?” Carver rasped.
Heart pounding, she scanned his face. “I should be asking you that, since you’re the one who broke my fall.” Realizing her weight was still pinning him, she shifted onto her knees, which had landed on either side of him.
