This has gone far enough.Delgado didn’t break stride.Ellis’s gaze flicked up past Rowan’s shoulder, saw him coming, and she was on him in that instant, driving her opponent to the ground and giving him a short jab to the ribs for good measure.
Blood flew—herblood.From her nose.Maybe it was even broken.
“Got you!”she crowed, legs tangled with Ellis’s.“Ouch.Ow!”
Delgado set his heels, grabbed her arm, and hauled her upright.Ellis rolled, arrived standing in ready stance.Del ran his gaze over the man, noticed he was wincing.He’d be bruised.Rowan had gotten in a few good shots.
“I don’t recall putting you on the roster,” Del said mildly enough, as if his fury wasn’t painting the air red.
“I was early; Ellis offered to give me a bout.”Her eyes were shining, the tank top spotted with blood.More dripped from her nose—at least it wasn’t a gusher.“I got him!”
“Good for you,” he said, hating himself for what he was about to do.“Think you could take me?Sigs work in pairs, and they won’t give you a chance to catch your breath.”
The challenge in his tone was something new, and he was sure his eyes were flat and cold.
I can’t do this.
He closed himself up tighter than a fist.She wouldn’t be able to read him—not until the anger went away.Rage was the best fuel, and the only thing that let him close her out.
She’s not ready; she’s not ready.She’ll hate me for this.
Rowan tore her arm away, and punched him.
Reflex took care of blocking, deflecting the strike.It was a good one, all her weight behind it; she stepped aside like he’d taught her, changing the arc of her movement so he couldn’t catch and throw her off-guard.Delgado moved in, pressing, granting no time to respond, her arm rising as he gave a half-strike punch.She kicked for his knee but he moved, knowing each move before she made it.
Every move but the one she used—electricity crackling, and his arm going momentarily numb.
He backed up a step, two.“Where’d you learn that?”
“Boomer showed me.”Panting, ribs flaring, dried blood crusting on her face, sweat damping her hair.“It’s easy.He calls it a crackle.”
He started circling, not watching the tank top clinging to her chest, not hearing Ellis’s low tuneless whistle as he watched Delgado move in.They were starting to draw a little crowd, a most good sparring matches did.
This one’s Del versus his girlfriend, and Del looks pissed, he thought sardonically, hearing the words as if they were someone else gossiping.More grist for the rumor mill.
Rowan tracked just like he’d taught her—good girl.He twitched and she countered, playing through the sequence.
“Nice.”
“Thanks.”Her eyes were shuttered, dark.“You look mad.”
She’s trying to get into your head.He moved, a flurry of strikes she managed to block, but he pressed mercilessly, all the way across the mat.She threw one or two halfhearted punches, not enough to hurt him.
He was pushing her too hard.
One small miscalculation and he was on her, locking her arm and spinning, his forearm across her throat.She kicked, but he was ready for that.He twisted her other arm, not hard enough to really hurt, just enough to make her feel it, clinically noting that she went limp in his arms, her ribs heaving.
“I don’t think you’re ready,” he said in her ear, feeling her shiver as his breath caressed her skin.“Not yet.”
“Not for you, maybe,” she shot back, free hand hooked over his arm, as if she would try to pull the limb away.“But for Sigma?Yeah.”
“Nah.”His tone dropped, intimately.He couldn’t help it.The heat of her against him reminded him of other things.What was it about this woman that could deprive him of all good sense and caution?
“Kate told me there’s nothing else she can teach me.”Instead of going limp, she leaned back into him ever so subtly, as if they were playing a game.A deeper kind, one that would end with his hands on her in a different way.
Oh, no you don’t, angel.Delgado didn’t have to take a deep breath, but he did, searching for control.He wanted to let go of her, apologize, suggest a trip into town for dinner—but no.
Here in the practice room, there was no room forfriend.
