Page 63 of Desire's Ransom
Lady Mor could see Ryland wasn’t going to be distracted, so she tossed off one last tempting line. “Well, I can’t bear to watch such violence, m’lord. I think I’ll take advantage o’ the good weather and go down to theloughfor a bath.”
Temair wondered if coy Mor would linger there all day, waiting for Ryland to appear. Why it bothered her, she didn’t know. After all, Ryland was promised to another—toheractually. And since that wedding wasn’t going to take place, it didn’t matter what romantic entanglements he pursued.
That’s what she told herself. It wasn’t how she felt. Mor’s open flirtation nagged at her, almost as much as Ryland’s apparent enjoyment of it.
Temair was glad Mor had left. Fighting with thebatarequired concentration, and Ryland clearly couldn’t concentrate with a beautiful redhead nearby.
Once she moved the dummy out of the way and gave Ryland abata, she showed him how to warm up. He picked it up very quickly. She supposed that made sense. He was a trained swordsman. The techniques couldn’t be too different.
Soon they were lunging in unison, moving thebatasslowly forward and back.
“Like this?” he asked, swinging thebataaround to his side.
“Aye, only more…”
She showed him. He copied her movements. He actually was a very adept student.
When she tried to show him how to close the distance rapidly between his hands in order to flip thebata’s end around, he kept letting go of the stick. She moved closer in to show him. Putting her hands atop his, she slid them closely together so he could see how it felt.
It felt seductive. His hands dwarfed hers. His knuckles were warm. She could feel his battle scars under her palms. And the motion they made together, sliding slowly along thebata, made her face burn.
“Do ye have it now?” she asked breathlessly, stepping away.
“I think so. ’Tis a twist of the body at the same time, right?” He slid his hands together, twisted, and whipped thebataforward.
She nodded. She’d never realized how alluring a man could look, expertly wielding abata.
After several repetitions, he asked, “What else?”
She showed him how to feint back with one arm and jab forward with the other. He showed particular enthusiasm for that.
“’Tis almost like using a sword and shield,” he realized.
“But instead o’ defense, the shield arm is meant to distract,” she told him.
“Exactly!”
He repeated the motion, changing arms, until he was proficient. She was truly impressed by his progress.
“Ye’re the fastest learner I’ve seen,” she remarked. “It took me a month to learn all o’ that.”
“Well, to be fair,” he said as he continued to feint and jab, feint and jab, “I’ve had a whole lifetime of learning to fight. I doubt you, Lady Gray, were born with a blade in your hands.”
She joined him in feinting and jabbing. “True.”
“How longhaveyou trained?” he asked.
“Since I came here six years ago.”
He nodded. “You’re very accomplished.”
His words made her glow inside. She wasn’t sure how to respond.
After a long silence, broken only by their sharp exhales as they thrust forward, she finally worked up the courage to murmur, “I’d like to apologize for last night.”
He nodded. “For the snoring, you mean?”
“What?” She stopped, turning on him. “Snorin’? I don’t snore.”
