Slower this time, she went through the motions he had just seen her do.
“Where did you . . . get the workout . . . clothes?” he huffed.
“I had them on under my Regency ball gown. They were like a security blanket.”
Watching her move, trying to imitate it, Jem understood for the first time just how confining the bulky dresses and petticoats must be for her.
“I’d like to go through my forms now,” she said when they were both breathing heavily. “You don’t have to stay.”
“I’d like to, if you don’t mind.”
She shot him a wary look.
“No, seriously,” he said. “I’ve taken a few martial arts classes. Not enough to be dangerous or anything, but I’d be interested in learning more.”
“I haven’t studied it seriously.” She moved her shoulders, as though loosening them. “I go to the classes for the exercise more than for the advancement of the belts. But I can show you some moves, and I can teach you some self-defense techniques.”
“Great.”
She showed him the proper stance, and he took it, already familiar with that much. The kicks and punches were a little different than what they had just done earlier. This round, she took the time to correct his positioning, though she didn’t criticize him.
“Here, for these self-defense moves, use the heel of your palm instead.” She demonstrated by pulling back her fingers and pushing that part of her hand forward. “Make sure your fingers are back, so you don’t break any of them with a hard punch.”
“Why not use my fist?”
“You can break your hand if you don’t hit right.” She took his hand in hers and pulled back on his fingers. “The heel palm strike is a great move and carries a lot of power. I can break a board with mine.”
Jem listened, bemused, as she held his hand and talked. She seemed completely unaffected by their closeness, unlike him. He wanted so badly to kiss her right then, but he sensed that he needed some sign from her that she wanted it before he did.
By the time they had finished, the sky was starting to lighten. The sun would rise soon. He was wired and hoped he could get back to sleep. He bent over to pick up his boots, not bothering to put them on again. His valet would freak out when he saw them later.
“That was kind of fun.” Reese began walking toward the house.
“Was this the first time you’ve come out here?” he asked, following her.
“Outside, yes. I’ve tried doing it in my room, but I’m worried about bothering the people below me. And, I don’t want to break anything.” She swirled around in a circle as she walked, her face lifted to the stars. “I can’t live the way these women do, sitting on their bums all day and doing needlepoint and stuff.” Reese glanced at him. “I’m beginning to understand now why Lizzie Bennett used to go for three- or four-mile walks. I guess she couldn’t stand to sit still that long either.”
“Men definitely have more opportunities to be active in this time than women.”
She turned quiet as they walked, almost pensive, like something was bothering her. Just when he was about to ask her what it was, she spoke.
“Has Nellie given you any hint how she’s coming on that painting?” Reese asked.
“I haven’t asked her,” he said. “Why?”
“I was just wondering . . . if she finished it earlier, maybe we could go home sooner.”
“But she told us the magic only works on the full moon,” Jem said. “What’s up?”
“The longer we’re here, the more likely I’ll end up saying something massively offensive to someone,” Reese said. “Not everyone’s going to be like Ellen.”
They climbed the outside stairs. Jem reached past her to open the door at the same time she turned to say something to him. She paused, her mouth in an “O” at their closeness.
He inhaled, enjoying how she smelled, the perspiration mixed with the scent that wasReese. Their gazes met. He felt like a moth and she the flame that was drawing him in, just like that night two years ago. Heat radiated off her, and he could almost hear the pounding of her heart that matched the pulsing of the vein in her throat, as rapid as his own. Both breathing rapidly, their faces moved closer.
The doorknob in his hand turned and swung inside. Still holding it, he stumbled forward. Reese reached out to catch him, but he slammed into his valet.
“Oh my,” Geoffrey said. “I beg pardon, Mr. Jem. I wondered what had become of you.” The man’s attention shifted to Reese, his gaze running from her skin-tight leggings up to her tank top. His eyes bulged.
