The Memory of Her Kiss by Rebecca Ruger

Author:Rebecca Ruger [Ruger, Rebecca]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Rebecca Ruger
Published: 2019-10-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

Torren stepped in front of her, blocking her view of the Kincaid, turning his head over his shoulder to make sure Gregor had stepped back far enough, before saying very softly, “When he’s giving you the eye like that, give him the softest, sweetest smile you can manage and then lunge for his midsection.

“That sounds like trickery,” Anice said, her whisper even lower than Torren’s.

“Ain’t no trickery in saving your life, lass.”

She caught just the hint of a smile in the big man’s eyes. “You’re going to get me in trouble.”

He nodded, his merry eyes telling her this was a distinct possibility.

Torren stepped aside and Anice faced off against the Kincaid. He grinned still, for having bested her. She bent her knees and spent some time placing her feet as she’d been taught. Slowly, she lifted her head, her eyes finding Gregor’s. She didn’t blink, just stared steadily as he stepped closer, considering his move. As Torren had suggested, she let a slow and soft smile come, tilting her head ever so slightly, and watched as some emotion entered his gaze. His lips parted while he stared at hers now and Anice lunged forward quickly, driving her small blade within only inches of his middle before he’d reacted. He side-stepped her thrust at the last minute, lifting his blade, but Anice caught this movement and his wrist, pushing his arm out away from her, which put them so close their breaths joined between them. With her hand at his wrist above her head and her other hand and the knife just near his hip, she stared up at him, her smile gone. Just now, she was only aware of his proximity and his eyes still raking hers so closely and her hand still squeezing his thick wrist. Everything about him was detailed in heat; his eyes glinted with intensity, once again stealing her breath; warmth radiated from him, though they barely touched; and under her fingers, the pulsing heat nearly singed her.

Around them, great hollers and shouts were heard after a long moment of absolute silence. Gregor blinked and Anice straightened, but their gazes remained connected.

Anice swallowed. So much noise surrounded her just then, but she could only hear Gregor even though he’d said not a word.

“Sister just out-maneuvered the Kincaid!”

“Chief, you best give heed to the lass’s teaching.”

“Aye, and we’ve got company.”

This last comment, from Torren, finally dragged Gregor’s gaze from Anice, and she breathed again.

The short man, the Duncan chief, rode out onto the practice field, with his black-garbed minions and equally petite soldiers in tow. They should look spectacular, the Duncan’s garments so splendid and fine, the soldiers’ silver so shiny and their tabards and breastplates bright and unsoiled, the horses so well-groomed with nary a speck of dirt or dust upon them. And yet, they seemed only a caricature of sorts, some little boys playing at dress-up.

Gregor and Torren exchanged glances, with Gregor inclining his head tersely at Anice. Both men then stepped in front

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