“You can draw your blade if you like.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You don’t have a knife.”
“I don’t need one.”
“Then neither do I.”
He dipped his chin. “As you will.”
He moved. She froze and then jerked back, but she was too slow to dodge him. He wrapped her up in his arms and spun her around so her back was pressed to his chest. One hand curled around her hip. The other braced across her chest.
And it only occurred to him then that maybe this hadn’t been his finest idea. There were curves there, despite how slender she was. Soft and giving. Her ass was tucked against his groin. Her breasts pressed against his forearm.
He stopped, caught by the feel of her, which gave her just enough time to kick back with her heel, hitting his shin hard enough to make him grunt. Deserved that. He dodged her head when she tried to ram it into his face and twisted away when she bent to elbow him in the balls.
“You fight dirty,” he said. “Good. Use whatever you need to get free. Your feet. Your head. Teeth. Claws.”
She huffed as she stepped back, shoving her hair out of her face. “I don’t have claws.”
“Sure you do, kitten.” He lifted his chin toward her knife. “Show me.”
“Don’t call me kitten.”
She reached for the blade and he grinned.
They spent the next half hour dancing around the clearing, Rowan lunging at him with her knife, him avoiding the blows. Dodge, feint, the occasional block. She was quick, he was glad to see. Quick enough to give him a foundation to build upon, and she had good instincts. She caught on to his feints early on and then he actually had to pay attention to the blade in her hand.
She tired quickly, not used to the pace. He couldn’t afford to wear her down further. They had a lot of ground to cover today.
He stepped inside her guard and clamped his hand around the wrist of her knife arm. He caught her against him again and when she struggled, he said, “Be still. This is your first lesson.”
Her body hummed with energy. She’d finally come fully awake. He could feel the heat of her through his clothes, scent the flush on her skin. He slid his hand down to cover hers and adjusted her grip, nudging her thumb into a better position. “Hold it like this. You’ll have more control.”
Her breathing was unsteady. Had he pushed her too hard? She was so proud, she’d never tell him if he had.
“You’ll want to run. Always. If you have the chance to run from a fight, take it. If you need to use your knife, stab quick and get out. Avoid the ribs. Aim here.” He slid his hand across her belly to press against her liver. “Or here.” He moved his hand to her kidneys. “You need a different sheath. You won’t always be able to reach your boot. You’ll want your blade closer to your hand. On your belt or maybe at your thigh. Think about it. Let me know what you prefer.”
She wet her lips, and he couldn’t help but look there.
“You shouldn’t say ‘thigh’ to me, Casrian. It’s inappropriate. I’m not your wife.”
He breathed a laugh, something hot sliding through him at the sound of his name. “No. You’re not.”
Even if he wanted a wife, he couldn’t have someone like Rowan.
She looked up at him. “Are you sure you should be showing me where to stab you?”
“You’re not going to kill me.” He was certain of it. She didn’t have it in her. For all of her toughness, she still had a heart. “If you wanted me dead, you’d have left me to bleed out in the woods.”
“I’ve got more of an incentive now. I’m written in your will.”
Maybe that had been a mistake, but he owed them. And who else would his money go to?
He turned the knife in her hand and closed her fingers around the grip so it was angled in the opposite direction. Heguided her arm toward him until the surprisingly sharp tip of the blade pressed against his gut. “This would be messy but effective. It wouldn’t kill me right away, but I’d have no chance of surviving.”
He was fascinated by the way her eyes widened, the pupils blowing wide. Like she was affected by his nearness too. His voice lowered as he moved the tip of the blade to his thigh. “This would slow me down, but only for a short time. I’d tie off the wound and still be able to give chase.”
“Would you?”
