Page 63 of Highland Spy

“She must have had a good teacher as well.” He kept his face equally stoic.

This time he did not allow Ariana to be on the offensive. He lunged toward her, intending to grapple her to the ground where he could easily trap her and declare his victory.

Rather than dart from his attack, she ran into it and shoved against his chest with the flats of her palms.

His balance was offset by the move, but he managed to stay upright and locked his arms around her head.

With a grunt, she spun free and lurched backward, out of arm’s reach. Her narrow escape left her hair wild, with strands loosened from the carefully twisted knot she’d secured it in that morning.

She inched forward and he threw his fist toward her, though with the restrained strength he used in practice.

Again, she stepped into an offensive position, so his fist flew past her ear and she had access to everything his attack had left exposed.

She grabbed his arm and pulled while lowering her body to the ground. He flipped over her and landed on soft knees with enough surety to pop up once more.

Ariana was right. She was tougher than she looked.

And he was damn glad for it.

Dusk tinged the sky a somber blue, and he knew they didn’t have much time before a cloak of darkness fell over them.

Again Ariana inched closer to him, encouraging his attack. This time he knew better.

He moved to charge toward her, but when she attempted her own maneuver, he was ready.

He caught her narrow waist with his right hand and nudged her legs from behind so her knees bent and buckled. They both fell to the ground.

She went down like a cat shoved into a barrel of water, all elbows and fists and legs shooting out in blind determination to hit a target.

Unsuccessfully.

The weight of her skirts kept her kicks from being as effective and bared too many inches of tempting flesh.

Shapely and smooth and creamy.

He locked his body over hers to tame her struggle and win once and for all.

Memories from the night before fogged his mind. The huskiness of her moan, how incredibly wet she’d been.

Her hips bucked upward and she forcefully shoved him off.

She sat down hard atop him in a straddle, and her skirts lay over his legs like a thick blanket, as though her weight were substantial enough to hold him down. Her chest heaved with the labor of her breath and her cheeks were red in the fading light.

“I think I won.” There was a slyness to her tone the warrior in him could not abide.

He grabbed her wrists and rolled them both over once more, so that he was the victor.

She looked up at him, eyes twinkling with excitement, hair spilling from its constraints.

His large hands trapped her small ones. She was at his mercy.

How he wanted to use that to his advantage—one he knew she would enjoy based on the previous night’s engagement. He could trail his mouth against her neck, her bosom, even lower to where she’d been so damn wet.

The very thought almost made him groan. To taste her.

To enjoy all of her and slake the lust burning through him once and for all.

Chapter 16