Ye forgot aboot yer legs, lass,” he told her, sweat beading his forehead. “Are ye hurt?”
Hurt? No, not physically. Finley tried and failed to come back with a witty reply, realizing that his strong form was pressed up against hers in such a manner that had her heart fluttering rapidly in her chest. His gaze dropped to her lips, and she snarled, pushing on his massive shoulders.
“Get off me!”
Her shout must have registered with Erik, for he did as she asked, rising to his feet before reaching down as she had earlier with the other warrior. “Here,” he said roughly. “Let me.”
She pushed his hand aside and got up herself, ignoring the protest of her body as she did so. “Well done,” she grumbled, picking her sword up out of the dirt. Thank goodness the sparring circle was empty at the moment and no one had seen her failure.
Or the way that Erik had pressed his body to hers. Suddenly heated, she cleared her throat. “I have things tae do.”
“Are ye hurt, lass?” he asked softly, real concern flickering in his gaze.
Finley turned her attention to the dirt then, not liking how she was enjoying his lovely eyes. “Nay. I have tae go.” She needed to put some distance between them, now.
He smirked, bowing. “Of course, Finley. I will see ye later then.”
Finley didn’t respond, turning on her heel and stalking off, her sword in her hand. She didn’t want to see him later. She didn’t want to feel this sudden rush of heat by the way he had smirked at her.
She didn’t want to be in his presence at all!
