“Yer as worrisome as a bitin’ midge. I gi’ ye that.” Nostrils flaring, Graham bared his teeth and dove across the mat after her.
Lilia scampered up the taut, rubbery ropes surrounding the ring and launched herself into an arc passing over his crouched form just as he reached her. Landing with a rolling handspring on the other side of the ring, she spun about with swords lifted and ready, waiting for Graham to turn. This was pathetically too easy.
“Bad form, Lilia.” Alberti brought his hands together with a sharp clap. “There’ll be no ropes in the sword competition next week. You will refrain from using them to your advantage. That is not the behavior of a grand champion.”
Angus thumped excitedly up and down the bleachers, his piercing whistle splitting the air. “Let the lass be, lad. She’s bestin’ the man good and proper.”
Vivienne snuggled up against the ropes behind her, leaning in close so only Lilia could hear. “Give the poor man a wee break, ducks. Ye ken he canna help but hold himself in check against a woman. ’Tis the time he’s from.” Vivienne winked and added, “And he’s met yer grandmother. I’m sure she’s scairt the livin’ shit out of him.”
Well, there was that. Lilia barely turned, peeping back at Graham, currently glowering in the far corner. He was passing his sword between his hands in an agitated swinging move. She really should show him a little bit of mercy. The memory of one of Granny’s many lectures played across her mind. A wise woman always knows when to allow her man to at least think he’s won. A warm knowing lightened her heart and bubbled through her soul. For the first time in her life, Lilia understood exactly what Granny meant. Time for a little male ego damage control.
Lilia stepped back to the center of the ring and settled her footing. “Alberti’s right. I shouldn’t have cheated and used the ropes.” She tossed her second sword out of the ring, crouched low, and lowered her chin in a solemn nod. “I’m sorry and it won’t happen again.”
“And now ye think to treat me like a spoilt bairn who’s greetin’ about how the other lads bested him?” Graham flung his own sword out of the ring and strode two broad steps forward. Eyes narrowed and jaw set, his hands flexed open and closed as his approach slowed to an ominous, purposeful stalking.
“Well…” Lilia resettled her grip on her sword. She couldn’t make this look too easy. He already suspected what she was up to. “You are pouting like a sore loser.” She risked circling a bit closer. “Show me what you’ve got. I’m not afraid.”
Graham didn’t speak, didn’t breathe, didn’t even blink.
He’s about to move…now! Lilia launched herself upward a half second too late.
Graham spun low, one long muscular leg extended. He effectively swept Lilia’s legs out from under her then bore down with his teeth clenched in a fierce snarl. She tried to roll but moved too late, hitting the mat flat on her back with a stinging thud.
“Dammit!” She flailed to the left but a calloused hand latched hold of her right wrist and jerked her back. I’ve gotta keep my sword. Lilia rolled toward Graham, straining to keep him from prying her weapon free of her right hand. If she could just pass it to her left, she could retaliate with a few well-placed whacks and win her freedom. So much for letting him “think” he’s winning. Damned if he’s not about to.
Graham squeezed her wrist tighter and brought his face close to hers. “Nay, lass. Ye’ll no’ be using this poor excuse for a blade across me arse again.” He plucked it free of her fingers and flipped it out of the ring. “And now I believe I owe ye a taste of yer own tonic.” Kneeling down, he firmly planted one foot forward, then yanked her up from the mat and pulled her across his bent knee.
“Oh hell no!” Lilia squirmed from side to side, kicking and flailing to escape. Dangling facedown, her ass hiked up in the air and an easy target, panic mounted as she strained to wrench her wrists free of Graham’s iron grip. “You are not gonna whip my ass in the middle of this ring.”
“The hell I’m not.” Graham brought the flat of his hand down hard across the meatiest curve of her buttocks with a resounding smack.
“You son of a bitch!” Dammit, that stings. She curled forward, still trying to yank her hands free. If she could just bend sideways far enough, she could bite the shit out of his leg. Another echoing smack stung across her backside. An enraged roar ripped free of her lungs.
Graham rolled her off onto the floor and stood. “Let that be a lesson to ye. Ye should always be prepared to endure whate’er ye’ve meted out.” He brushed his hands together as though they were soiled, then turned and stomped away.
Lilia rolled across the mat, wiggled under the ropes, and retrieved her sword. Grabbing the pointed tip of the dull blade, she drew it back behind her head, took deadly aim, then powered the throw with every iota of rage pounding through her being. Nobody whips my ass. Nobody. The sword flew across the room end over end, then the weighted pommel connected with the back of Graham’s head. Hard.
The man crumpled, dropping to the floor as though he’d been shot.
“Lilia!” Vivienne and Alberti scolded her in unison as they hurried to Graham’s downed form.
“Well…shit.” Lilia flinched with a delayed sense of guilt, heavily riddled with a maybe I shouldn’t have done that feeling.
Angus rushed to her side. “Dinna fash, lassie. The numpty’s thick-skulled. Just ask yer kin.” He winked, then swept forward in a gallant bow. “And I’m honored to ken such a fine warrior.”
“Not now, Angus.” Lilia scurried around him. She couldn’t see past Alberti and Vivienne to make out if Graham was moving. Please don’t let him be dead.
“Dammit ta hell and back.” A strained growl rumbled up from where Alberti and Vivienne crouched with their backs toward her.
She couldn’t see Graham yet, but from the sounds of it, he wasn’t dead—just thoroughly pissed. A sense of relief washed over her, allowing her to breathe again.
Lilia hurried over, rounded her friends, and crouched down beside Graham where he sat rubbing the back of his head. “Uhm…I’m…sorry. Are you all right?”
“What the hell did ye do that for?” Graham kept his eyes squinted shut as he turned toward her. His grimace was colored a ruddy shade—whether from pain or anger, Lilia didn’t know…more than likely, a whole lot of both.
“She rarely thinks her actions through when she’s suitably irritated.” Alberti pulled Graham’s hands away from the back of his head and pressed a towel-covered gel pack in place. “This will help. Hold it tight.”
“Really. I am sorry.” And she was. Lilia moved closer and gently replaced Graham’s hands with her own, cradling the icy pack against the back of his head. “And Alberti’s right. When I’m pissed…I don’t always think things through before I act on whatever pops in my head. Gets me in trouble sometimes. Well…not just sometimes. A lot.” She knelt closer, still holding the ice pack snugly against Graham’s skull. Bending forward, she peered up into his face. “I really am sorry. Forgive me?”
Graham’s narrow-eyed gaze slid to her. His moustache barely twitched to one side as an unreadable look settled across his face. “A kiss,” he growled.
“What?” The ice pack slipped. Lilia caught it, palming it higher and harder against Graham’s head. The herd of butterflies residing in her stomach spread their wings and readied for takeoff.
Graham flinched, closing one eye as he leaned forward, pulled her hand away, and held the wad of towel and coldness himself. He wet his mouth and lowered his voice, easing a finger under her chin as he repeated, “Yer penance shall be a kiss.”
Somehow, and she wasn’t quite certain how, she and Graham were suddenly very much alone. Part of her panicked. But another part of her, the side of her warming to the opportunity and about to thoroughly embrace the idea of the seductive penance, thrilled at the prospect.
“A kiss?” she whispered.
“Aye.” Graham slid his fingertips up along her jawline, cupping her face as he leaned in closer. His gaze lo
wered to her mouth. The heat of him drew her in, caressed her, promised to make her whole. The ice pack hit the floor with a plop as Graham curled his other arm around her waist and dragged her astraddle his lap. He never blinked, just snugged her against his chest. “A thorough kiss. A claimin’ and a proper apology, ye might say.”
I can’t resist him. Lilia held Graham’s face between her hands. The soft springy curls of his closely cropped beard caressed her palms with an addictive tickling sensation that made her ache to snuggle him closer. A nervous giggle escaped her.
One burly brow arched a bit higher. “Ye laugh about yer punishment?”
“Your beard makes you cuddly—like a teddy bear.” She caught her bottom lip between her teeth and held her breath to keep from groaning. Damn, she needed better filters on her mouth. I just called the man a freakin’ teddy bear. Lovely. At least she didn’t add that she could just imagine how orgasmically wonderful that beard would feel tickling the insides of her thighs.
A deep chuckle rumbled Graham’s chest against her as his arm tightened about her and settled her more firmly in his embrace. “I’ll be yer cuddle bear anytime ye wish.” His fingers slid deeper into her upswept hair, gently steadying her as his mouth closed over hers.
Urgency. Need. Longing. Were those Graham’s emotions she sensed or her own? Lilia melted against him, sliding her hands atop his shoulders and holding him tighter as she closed her eyes and spun away into the heat of the kiss. He gently sucked at her lower lip then groaned as he opened her mouth wider, exploring, tasting, claiming until her body hummed with the need for more. Lilia squirmed, still straddling Graham’s lap, arching against him as his hands slid down her back, cupped her ass, and snugged her tighter against an exquisite hardness that couldn’t possibly be just a sports cup. Oh my God. I could take him right here in the middle of the arena. Alberti’s dance class can just be damned.
Lilia finally pulled back; cradling Graham’s face between her hands, she struggled to catch her breath. “Uhm…penance. Paid up. Right?” They had to stop this before one of the dance class mamas showed up and either called the police or threatened Alberti—or both.
“Nay, lass.” The emotions flashing in Graham’s eyes left no doubt that her penance had just begun.
Chapter 12
Thank the gods, Lilia had suggested changing back into their regular clothes before they went to the stable. A rock-hard cock and that damnable codpiece didna make for comfort. The wicked cup had nearly beheaded his aching member. Graham rolled his shoulders and yanked at the snug crotch of his jeans. Those damn trews were nearly as bad. What the hell had happened to a man and the freedom found in soft leather trews and a freely flowing plaid? His poor bollocks couldna breathe and his cock wasna farin’ much better either.
“I’m a thinkin’ ye best be strikin’ whilst the iron is hot, I do.” Angus fell into step beside him and elbowed him in the ribs. “And I owe ye greatly for the heat o’ that kiss back yonder.”
“What the hell are ye talkin’ about?” Graham shoved through a swinging gate opening into the largest covered paddock he’d ever seen in his life. A great dirt plot was fitted with its own metal roof and walls—larger than the entire walled-in grounds surrounding MacKenna Keep. Who wouldha thought ta build such a thing?
“Mistress Vivienne has grown quite friendly since watching ye fill yer hands with Mistress Lilia’s fine bit a round arse.” Angus’s face fairly glowed as he threw out his chest and rolled up on the balls of his feet with each hopping step.
Graham spun about, grabbed Angus by the throat, and shoved him back against the railing. “I’ll rip yer disrespectful tongue outta yer head if ye e’er speak in such a way again.” No one talked about his Lilia in such a way. No one. Graham rattled him again, jerking Angus so hard that the man’s head bounced back against the wall behind the railing. “Never again. D’ye understand?”
Angus squirmed to be free, hands flailing in the air as he sputtered and spit. “Forgive! I spoke ill without thinkin’ ”—he coughed and wheezed in a strained gulp of air as Graham’s grip tightened around his throat—“meant no harm…I swear it! Willna happen…e’er again.”
Graham slammed him hard against the fence one last time then pushed him away. “See that it doesn’t.”
“Angus, are you all right?” Lilia rounded the corner, arms overflowing with folded padding and a leather saddle.
Angus bobbed his head up and down, stealing a quick glance at Graham as he coughed and thumped his fist against his chest. “Aye. Just fine, m’lady. I must ha’ sucked a midge down me throat.” He hurried away, trotting to catch up with Vivienne and Alberti, where they’d disappeared into a separate wing of stalls.
Lilia hiked the saddle higher against her chest as she watched Angus scurry away. “I hope he’s all right. His face is awfully red. That midge must’ve been the size of a horsefly.”
“The man’s fine.” Graham hefted the saddle out of Lilia’s arms, cutting off what he knew would be a protest with a stern shake of his head. “Not a word or I’ll bend ye over m’knee again.”
Lilia cocked a brow and totally failed at assuming a reprimanding scowl. The corners of her mouth twitched with a barely held-back grin as she spoke. “You and I need to have a long talk about your predilection for spankings.”
Aye. That’s it, lass. Allow yer heart to warm ta me. Graham wasna entirely sure what “predilection” meant but he did admire the wicked gleam in Lilia’s eyes when she said it. “Aye, sweetling. I’d love to have such a long discussion with ye anytime ye like.” He swallowed a grunt as the inseam of his jeans cut even deeper into his crotch. Damn and fer certain. A hard cock is a hindrance in these trews.
A delightfully rosy flush spread across Lilia’s cheeks as she hurried around him. She cleared her throat and waved him toward a nearby line of stalls. “Uhm…this way. Odin’s over here.”
Graham chuckled to himself. Lore, he loved when the color rode high upon her cheeks. They came up even with the stall just as a long black nose pushed open the top half of the wooden double door. Ignoring Graham and Lilia, the great black horse mouthed at the metal latch on the outside of the door until he’d managed to rattle free the mechanism and unlatch it. Then he nosed open the lower half of the door and walked out of the stall.
“Odin.” Lilia’s tone reminded Graham of a mother’s affectionate scolding of a favorite child caught stealing a treat from the kitchen. “You know you’re not supposed to do that.”
The monstrous black horse whickered in reply and bumped his nose against Lilia with an affectionate rub. Lilia hugged her arms around his muscular neck, smiling as she stretched on tiptoe to scratch behind the tall horse’s ears. Odin obligingly leaned her way, rumbling with a happy grumble as he guided her hand to the perfect spot with a turning of his head. “You knew it was time to ride. Didn’t you?”
Odin replied by grumbling some more.
Graham settled the saddle across the low wooden railing beside Odin’s stall without taking his gaze from the horse. Fine animal. Strong. Big. The perfect warhorse. The symmetry of the horse’s lines gave testament to his pure blood—until Odin turned to fully face him. One side of the horse’s face was badly scarred and his right eye was missing.
For the first time since they’d arrived, Odin noticed Graham. The eerie-looking beast flattened his ears, bared his teeth, and stomped a pace toward Graham, clearly daring him to come closer.
“What happened to him?” Graham held both hands open, palms up, and didn’t attempt to approach the horse. Before he’d been cursed to live as a dragon by day and a man by night, he’d spent his days training Ronan’s father’s horses. Respect from the animals had to be earned.
“Abuse.” Lilia bit out the word as though spitting out poison. She pressed a cheek against the horse’s neck and hugged him close again. “But Odin is my friend now and the one who hurt him will never deal out such suffering again. Ever.” Her tone cold, the look in her eyes was even colder as she turned
and leveled an emotionless gaze on Graham. “I don’t tolerate the abuse of innocents.”
Graham understood completely…and admired her for it. “I hope ye killed the bastard slowly.”
“Oh no,” Lilia replied softly. “I didn’t kill him—at least not physically. In this day and age, the destruction of a person’s image…his public persona…is much more satisfying than their death.” A chilling look of satisfaction settled across her features as she affectionately combed her fingers through Odin’s long black mane. “They suffer longer when you take them down financially and ruin their careers.”
A yapping black ball of fur exploded out of the stall, charged between the great horse’s feet, then came to a stop right in front of Graham. Tiny teeth bared, bouncing forward then back with every growling bark, the viciously vocal fury made it clear in no uncertain terms that Graham was not to take a step closer to the horse.
Lilia’s face softened and she smiled down at the little dog. “And this is Buzz, protector and best friend to Odin, the fearless black Percheron.”
Graham slowly squatted then extended the knuckles of his right hand toward Buzz. “Courageous beastie, ye are. Will ye find me friend or foe?”
“I wouldn’t do that. Buzz hates every…” Lilia’s words faded away as Buzz eased forward, still rumbling but with his tiny black nose twitching. He cautiously circled Graham’s hand. The small dog paused, short pointed ears perked toward Graham, then charged ahead with an excited wiggle and a high-pitched yipping bark. He bounced around, yapping and licking Graham’s fingers as though they were reunited best friends.
“I’ve never seen him react like that with anyone except me.” Hands fisted atop her hips, Lilia studied the little dog as though he were some alien creature. “How did you do that?”
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