“You only now noticed?” To be honest, she’d only remembered her state of dress when she’d neared the hall leading to the armory. By then, she’d sensed Teryn’s proximity and hadn’t felt like changing. It was after midnight now, and Cora hadn’t come across any servants on her way to find Teryn, only her husband’s guards, who were posted outside the hall.
“Oh, I noticed. Also…” His forearm froze against her midsection. Then, angling the hand that held her wrist, he spun her away from him, and for a moment it felt more like they were dancing. He didn’t release her wrist. Instead, he angled her arm overhead, bent at the elbow, and stepped in close. His eyes swept over her form, lingering on the deep V-shaped neck of her robe. His throat bobbed. “You aren’t wearing a corset.”
She lifted her chin, her chest, letting the lay of the thin silk and the peaks it accentuated speak volumes. “I’m not.”
That surprised him enough to allow her to catch him off guard. She freed her wrist and darted a step back.
“How about this?” she said. “For every blow you land, I’ll remove an article of clothing.”
He bit his bottom lip. When he spoke, his voice came out thick. “And what if you land a?—”
Before he could finish, she lunged forward and slapped his thigh with the flat of her blade. Just as quickly, she leaped back, a victorious grin on her lips. “If I land a blow, you have to do the same.”
His mouth fell open. “Did that one count?”
“It counted.” She dropped her gaze to his waistband, then fluttered her lashes at him. “So go on.”
With exaggerated reluctance, he brought the fingers of his free hand to the top button of his fly.
Cora watched with greedy anticipation?—
Before she knew what was happening, he lunged forward and slapped her lightly with his wooden dagger, in the same place she’d struck him.
She squeaked in surprise, her defenses thoroughly shaken. She debated striking back, but he was already retreating.
“Looks like we’ve both landed a blow,” he said as he worked his buttons in earnest this time. Then, in a taunting tone, he echoed her earlier words. “So go on.”
With a huff, she reached under the skirt of her robe with one hand, not daring to drop her dagger, and slid her trousers down. Teryn stepped out of his bottoms, and she was disappointed to see he wore linen undershorts. Devils take those undershorts. Meanwhile, she had no underclothes at all, for Garot had only left her the robe, sash, and trousers. At least the plentiful folds of her robe’s skirt hid her bottom half, which meant she still had the more exciting view.
She charged forward, thrusting her dagger, but he parried it. She charged again. Again. His defenses had grown sharper, fiercer. It seemed he was determined to get her out of another article of clothing. Well, she wouldn’t go easy on him. She was equally as?—
With a yelp, she tumbled back. She’d been so focused on striking Teryn’s wrist with the edge of her free hand, she hadn’t anticipated him sweeping out her feet. While she’d managed to force him to release his weapon, she’d lost her chance to land a blow with hers.
He caught her before she could fully lose her balance and guided her fall to the floor. Pinning her hands over her head, he lowered his body over hers, careful not to crush her with his full weight.
Heat burned deep in her core, tingling at the thrill of him being on top of her. Yet they were at an impasse. His training dagger was off to the side, but she still held hers. As soon as he released her arms, she could land a winning blow. Now all she needed to do was get him to release her.
With a wicked grin, she wiggled her hips slightly. “This brings back memories too.”
“I woke you up from a nightmare much like this.”
She spread her legs slightly, letting him settle more firmly against her. She hooked a leg around his hip, making his eyes widen. “I seem to recall you promising me pleasure.”
“Is that how you remember it?”
She arched her brow. “Am I wrong?”
“What I said back then was if I took pleasure in touching you, you would experience pleasure too.”
“And are you, Teryn? Are you taking pleasure in touching me?”
He rocked his hips slightly, and she could feel proof that he was, in fact, taking great pleasure from this. His grip slackened.
That was all she needed.
Clamping her legs around his hips, she shifted her weight and rolled him onto his back, she on top now. He lost hold of her wrists but flung his hand out toward his wooden dagger. Just as he touched it to her side, she brought her very real blade to his throat.
“I win,” she said through panting breaths.
