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Bright green eyes speckled with drops of orange invited my gaze. His eyes held a mirthful appearance, displaying an intelligence beyond that of my basement training. Doubt had never crossed my mind about his skills or training, but I found myself tickled by the amused glances he shot in my direction when I challenged him. Reddish-brown hair trimmed short and styled in spikes came into view when he bowed his head and chuckled.
The rest of him was stocky, with skin tanned like dusty red clay from spending time outside and decorated with light brown freckles. His t-shirt tightened over his chest and revealed thick muscle that tempted my fingers. Black jeans snugly cupped what he had packing which, as he had boasted earlier, was big.
When he lifted his head, attentive wonder seeped into his irises while his pupils dilated. The black holes were so round that I thought the green would get swallowed up.
“You going to show me your moves?” he teased. “Or are you going to keep staring at me?”
I broke eye contact. “I was getting back at you for earlier.”
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, cherry.”
A growl bubbled in my throat as I grabbed two daggers, spun around, and launched the knives in the direction of the stump. Two loud thunks resonated from the end of the lane where the stump rocked slightly from the impact. My triumphant grin couldn’t be quelled.
“I’m pretty damn good at daggers,” I boasted while staring at my nails. “I probably should have warned you about that. Don’t ya think?”
My fingers drifted over my bodice and toyed with the buckles before gripping the silver tooth around my neck.
“What’s that?” Adam asked while tracing the daggers on the table.
I knew he was asking about the necklace, but my lips refused to move, the words piling up right behind my tongue where they would inevitably die.
“I never noticed it until earlier,” he added in a low voice. He plucked a dagger from the bunch and squinted one eye closed while holding it up to the light. “You weren’t wearing it when you fixed up Donovan after the farmer’s market.”
“No, it was hidden,” I admitted. “Most people aren’t supposed to see it.”
He nodded while opening his eyes fully and approaching the x-mark of tape on the ground. While shuffling his feet, he whispered, “More cloaking magic?”
“Yes, Christopher is a gifted magician and he offers his services freely to us.”
Azaprippled between us as he lined up his feet to toss the dagger. The sensation was so strange that it made me want to step toward him, but I did everything I could to resist the temptation, aware of how odd it would look for me to make a move based on a feeling like that. That would just make me look silly.
The way he positioned his feet was goofy and prompted me to roll my eyes, inspiring me to close the distance between us. Relief swept over my muscles when I was close enough to touch him and the strange sensation disappeared.
While standing behind him, I took his hands and explained, “Point your toes at your target. Bring your dagger hand back like this and then swing your hips with the motion.”
“You think I can’t throw a dagger?”
“Iknowyou can’t throw a dagger, handsome.” Grinning, I stepped back toward the table and rested my hand over the remaining daggers. “I can tell by how you stand.”
“All in my stance, huh?” He threw the dagger as instructed and groaned when the blade bounced off the wood, the knife skittering wildly over the cement. “Okay, that was a fluke.”
“I’m sure it was.”
He mumbled something and then stated loudly, “I’m better at this than I look, I swear.”
“That's what they all say. But everybody has bad aim at first.”
“I never miss my target.”
His eyes burned brightly when they landed on me and I froze in place, completely entranced with how he was looking at me. “I don’t doubt that, Adam.”
Anotherzaptickled my gut and prompted a soft sigh. He took a step toward me and rested his hand over mine. Instead of warmth, I felt electric humidity, the kind of crackling moisture that would preclude a thunderstorm. Sandalwood swarmed my senses and caused me to close my eyes, my skin prickling with a striking awareness of his proximity.
Close, almosttooclose.
And yet he wasn’t close enough.
“Pardon me,” he whispered, his voice dreamy as though I had fallen asleep. “I need another one of these.”
