Page 46 of Secrets of a Kilted Seduction

this nae what they give a bairn when ’tis learnin’ tae fight, a wee wooden dagger?”

“Aye, but ’tis exactly what ye are right now, a bairn. But ye’ll soon get the hang of it. Come on, I’ll show ye how tae stand properly.”

“Ow!” Alana cried a few minutes later as Tadhg knocked the makeshift dagger from her hand again, once more sending it clattering to the ground. “Och, I’ll never be able tae dae it,” she complained, nursing her wrist.

“Yes, ye will,” Tadhg assured her patiently, collecting the stick and putting it back in her hand. He then took her by the shoulders and repositioned her opposite him. “Ye just need tae learn, like everybody else. Patience, perseverance, and hard work is all that’s needed here. Now, pay attention. Soft knees, slightly bent is what ye need. Where are yer knees? I cannae see anything under yer skirts,” he complained, starting towards her as though he was about to locate them himself.

“Maybe ye should try fighting wearing a dress. ’Tis nae easy!” she said, hurriedly stepping backwards to cut him off, worried what might happen if he got his hand under her skirts. She glimpsed disappointment on his face when he halted and returned to his spot and felt a hot stab of desire within her. Pushing it down, she obediently softened her knees and stood with her legs a few feet apart, balancing on the balls of her feet as instructed.

“That’s very good, but I think the skirts are the problem. Can ye nae kilt them up and tuck them in at the waist?” Tadhg suggested, looking at her critically.

“Aye,” she said, doing as he asked but adding, “So, every time I fight, I have to ask me opponent to hang on while I adjust me skirts?” She noticed how his eyes flickered to her legs, the lower parts of which were now revealed, before coming back to meet her eyes. A small bubble of excitement popped inside her that she tried her best to ignore.

“Only if ye have time, of course,” Tadhg replied. “If ye ken ye’ll have tae defend yerself, ye’ll likely have time tae dae it. That way, ye’ll have nae fear of tripping over them. That could be fatal.”

The last words put a fire in her to succeed. “Right, I’m in me fighting stance now,” she told him, bouncing lightly from one foot to the other and holding her wooden blade before her, feeling fierce.

“Nae, dinnae hold it like that,” he grumbled. “Have I nae told ye tae keep it horizontal, nae upright? That way, yer blade can go in any direction needed with the flick of yer wrist.”

He came and stood behind her, his length pressed against her, putting his arms beneath hers to reposition the “knife” in her hand. The sensation was so heady, her breath hitched, and goosebumps burst out all over her skin. It took a supreme effort of will to resist the urge to lean back into him and just let go. She was almost vibrating with excited anticipation as she imagined what might happen if she did.