Clunk, clunk, clunk, went the sticks.
Thump, thump, thump, went her heart.
He stepped forward, and she stepped back. They became one in this dance. She’d never had a sense like that in all her years of training, not with any of her sparring mates. What would it be like to be one with him, as a woman and a man, no swords and no wooden sticks, and no clothes?
Yesterday’s kiss invaded her mind. She’d melted from his hot, soft lips against hers. His tongue had gently probed and teased and played. His strong arms had wrapped around her without imprisoning her. They’d protected.
Uplifted.
Worshiped…
A hard blow came at her shoulder.
“Ow!” she spat, and a wave of irritation at herself prickled through her.
He stopped and stood with his stick facing down. “You okay?”
That strange word from the future… Okay. He must be asking if she was all right. Her shoulder stung, but her pride hurt more. She was the master here, and yet she’d let her student distracted her with his kiss. She clenched her jaw, her fist tightening around the stick.
In a lightning-fast strike, she pierced the air right in front of his heart. Her stick pushed at his ribs just as he lifted his arm to deflect her attack.
“Defend yerself!” she gritted through her teeth as she pivoted to give him another hard blow.
As her stick met his with a loud knock, she promised herself not to give him any slack and not to get distracted by him or the effect he had on her anymore. She was a warrior first. This wasn’t a dance, and he wasn’t courting her.
This was war, and she was training another warrior who’d help her protect her son and her castle. Nothing more than that. No matter how beautiful it had felt to be with him and how sweet the air was when he was nearby.
She’d better guard her heart against him, because he’d either die in the battle with MacDougalls or leave her and go back to his time. The thought of losing him made her ache.
Chapter 20
The sun hung low over the hills on the other side of the loch when Konnor went for a swim. He’d been training with Marjorie pretty much the whole day. After he’d accidentally hit her, she’d given him a run for his money, and by the end, he’d been drenched in sweat. Later, they’d started training with swords, and seeing her with one was an experience. Precise movements, calculated strikes, and deceptive maneuvers, she used her brain and her body to fight—and the combination was striking.
After the swim, Konnor washed the tunic and the breeches he’d been given earlier, and now he walked from the loch back towards the castle with them under his armpit. He was shirtless, walking in the new breeches that a servant had given him. Konnor enjoyed the clean feel of his body. His muscles sang pleasantly, like they did every time after good exercise. Especially after one with Marjorie. He’d take training like that with her every day.
The slight breeze was pleasant on his bare chest and back. He ignored the sharp pain that shot through him when he stepped on his injured leg. His ankle would be fine. He’d had worse injuries.
He breathed in a lungful of fresh, pure air. No plane contrails in the sky, no pollution, no plastic bags or water bottles swimming around in the loch. The castle stood three hundred yards away, and Konnor saw with satisfaction that the pile of rubble against the wall had been cleaned away, and the men were putting sharp stakes in the ground under the northern tower, just like he’d suggested. Up the wall, the mixture of iron and wooden spikes, and even kitchen knives were being hammered into the wall.
That made him feel so much better about their chances of surviving the siege. Though there was still no sign of the enemy.
The men at the base of the wall moved slowly, visibly tired after a whole day of heavy work. They stopped from time to time, leaning on the shovels and wiping sweat from their foreheads, no doubt anticipating dinner after an honest day of work, just like Konnor was. Yeah, dinner in Marjorie’s company and a cup of cool ale was be all he’d want right now.
He hadn’t seen Marjorie for a short time—probably not even an hour had gone by, but he already missed her. A dull ache in his chest at the sight of the castle scraped at his heart. What was Marjorie doing now?
Damn it. He’d never thought about a woman as much as he thought of her. It felt like ever since he’d met her, he’d expanded somehow, changed. He’d opened up to her about Jerry, and what he’d done to him, and she’d accepted him, not gasped in horror. She’d even kissed him…
It felt like his chest was so full with her—with a whirlwind of light, and bliss, and gratitude. He was so full with these feelings that his heart was about to burst open like a ripe watermelon.
What did it mean?
He was screwed, that was what it meant.
He was in over his head, forgetting his promise not to get attached, not to get emotionally involved. Fear chilled his bones and marrow. He was not falling for her, was he?
As he walked, he saw a small bunch of green hazelnuts surrounded by leaves with sharp ends lying on the ground. When his dad was alive, Konnor and he had kicked a soccer ball together in the backyard. That was how Konnor’s fondness for soccer had started. After his dad died, Konnor didn’t touch a soccer ball. He’d missed his dad so much, playing had been too painful. But while he waited for the school bus, he’d bounce pinecones or hazelnut bunches to occupy his time. Later, when Jerry started tearing Konnor’s and his mom’s lives apart, soccer hadn’t been painful anymore.
Playing soccer became a salvation. An escape. A way to feel closer to his dad. Perhaps, that’s why he’d been so good at it and become team captain. Same with the Marines.
He stopped before a hazelnut cluster and kicked it, smiling to himself as he did. Even here, seven hundred years back in the past, he felt like his dad watched over him.
He kept kicking the hazelnut bunch and didn’t notice how he close he’d come to the castle. He was already in front of the gates when Marjorie and Colin walked out, and Konnor’s heart gave a lurch at the sight of her. Their eyes locked and connected. She gave him a small wave, and he raised his hand to wave back.
She blinked as she looked him over and blushed. If he could, he’d show her how much he wanted to press her against him, skin-to-skin, to feel her naked and trembling against him. But he couldn’t. Konnor swallowed and put a fresh tunic on. She looked away.
An image came to his mind—of her watching him coming back from a hunt, beaming with joy and love and happiness, Colin and perhaps another child or two with broad smiles. A normal, daily routine, people who cared about him, who depended on him.
A family.
A family? Who was he kidding? He had no idea what a normal, daily life was. He knew he didn’t want to be like Jerry. He knew he didn’t want to have a family like the one he’d grown up in. Even when his dad was alive, he’d been deployed more than he was ever home, and Konnor only had a couple of memories of him. So what could he offer a woman with an eleven-year old son?
Absolutely nothing.
Even if he did try, he’d never be able to stay here. His mom needed him. His business was waiting for him. What kind of fantasy was he indulging in?
This heart-expanding bullshit and the elation in his chest was just an illusion.