“To kill?”
He didn’t answer. “You have been trained to defend yourself. There is a big difference between the two. You are not trying to win—”
“I am trying to get away, I know.” She finished with a roll of her eyes. “You sound just like John.”
Relieved at the excuse to end the subject, he smiled. “Good. Let’s see what else my brother has taught you. Shall we see how well you do if I am the one wielding the knife?”
She nodded. “But if you are going to go too easy on me, I’m going to go find John.”
The hell she would. The lazy smile that curved his mouth revealed nothing of the vehemence of his thoughts. “Careful what you ask for, Caty—you just might get it.”
Gregor wasn’t his brother. John was good, but Gregor was something else entirely. He seemed to have no weaknesses, his skills as sharp and deadly as the blade he kept getting past her defenses. If this were real, Cate would be dead ten times over by now.
She’d given the outside of his wrist a quick double slap, the way John had taught her, but the dagger didn’t come flying out. She’d attempt to block the arm coming toward her and change the direction of the wrist, by putting pressure on it and twisting to release the knife, but she wasn’t fast enough to get her hands into position before he stopped her.
He left Cate no openings and seemed to anticipate what she was going to do before she did it.
And then there was his strength. She would have had more luck trying to bend steel than break his hold on her. His arms were…
A ripple of awareness shuddered through her. Rock solid, bulging with raw masculine strength, and unbelievably warm. They felt so good wrapped around her, they made her knees weak. Which didn’t exactly help her ability to concentrate any.
After another embarrassing failure, which landed her in the dirt on her back, she had to drag herself back to her feet.
He definitely wasn’t taking it easy on her, but neither did she sense he was trying very hard. It was infuriating to realize that he was probably using only half—maybe three-quarters—of his strength and skill to defeat her soundly. She felt like a pesky midge being slapped away.
Although Robert the Bruce had waged a whole war on being “pesky,” after what happened this morning with the rider, it was humbling. She was supposed to be a warrior, yet all it took was a man who looked like the soldier who’d raped and killed her mother to turn her limbs to ice.
“Again,” he said.
She muttered a furious “why bother” under her breath. He would just put her on her backside again, which was bruised and sore already.
Apparently, he didn’t just have super strength; he had super hearing as well. “Are you giving up, Caty?”
Cate had never glowered before, but there was a first time for everything. Her mouth pursed tightly, and if she could have killed him with a look, she would have.
The slightly smug smile was the worst. He knew how frustrated she was. God, what she wouldn’t do to wipe that smile off his face. “I will never give up.”
He chuckled. “I didn’t think so.” Shaking his head, his gaze suddenly grew more pensive. “You remind me of someone when you do that, but I can’t think who it is.”
She was so shocked, her mouth fell open before she recovered. “A jealous husband, perhaps, who’d like to see you gelded?”
He shuddered dramatically. “God’s bones, Cate. Let’s not use the word ‘gelded’ when there is a dagger within reach.”
“That’s assuming I could ever get it out of your hand.”
“You don’t have to sound so disappointed.”
She dropped her gaze to the area in question. She thought she might have heard him swear. When she glanced back up at him, she was smiling. “Oh, I wouldn’t geld you.”
“Well, that’s a relief.” There might have been a touch of lingering huskiness in his voice.
She dimpled, her smile turning sugary sweet. “Not without cause, at least.”
To her surprise, he laughed, swiping a strand of hair from her lashes. She didn’t think he even realized what he’d done. But she did. The unconscious gesture was both tender and intimate, and worth every minute of being tossed on her backside all afternoon.
“You’re a fierce little thing, aren’t you?”
“Thank you,” she said primly. “I think that is the nicest compliment you’ve ever given me.”
