Page 51 of The Laird's Masked Passion

“Ye may ask one thing of me.”

“And ye must grant it?”

“If it is within reason.”

She studied him. “And if ye win?”

Colin looked at her mouth before he could stop himself. Her lips parted slightly. The garden, the castle, the murdered guard, even the threat beyond the border seemed to fall back for one suspended breath.

“If I win,” he said, voice lower, “I will have one wish of me own.”

Elspeth’s grip tightened on the dirk.

She smiled. “Then try tae earn it,husband.”

Colin raised his blade. And wondered, too late, which of them had set the trap.

Elspeth discovered, within three heartbeats of beginning the match, that Colin had been indulging her.

The first time, he allowed her enough success to make pride bloom in her chest like a dangerous flower. Now, with the wagerbetween them, he moved as if the whole contest had already been decided and she was merely being permitted to learn it.

She lunged. He was not there. She turned sharply, with her blade raised, only to find him watching her from two steps away with that faint, dark amusement which made her wish to stab him more than safety recommended.

“Stop vanishing,” she snapped.

“I havenae vanished. Ye are looking in the wrong place.”

“That is the sort of thing insufferable men say before being kicked again.”

His mouth curved. “Ye’ll need tae get closer for that.”

Elspeth did. It was a mistake. She came at him with more temper than wisdom, and Colin caught her wrist as easily as if she had offered it to him. She twisted, but he turned with her, stealing every movement before she completed it. A moment later, her dirk was gone from her hand, her back was against the trunk of an old yew, and Colin was standing before her with one palm braced beside her head.

Her own blade rested harmlessly in his other hand. She stared at it, then at him.

“That,” she said, breathing hard, “wasnae fair.”

“It was victory.”

“I demand another attempt.”

“Nay.”

“I wasnae ready.”

“Ye said tae try and earn me wish.”

“I meant dae ithonorably.”

“Enemies rarely ask what ye mean.”

She glared at him. “I dislike how often ye make sense.”

“I shall try tae dae it less.”

He stepped back and offered her the dirk, hilt first. She snatched it from him with all the dignity available to a woman who had been defeated in fewer moments than it took to sneeze.

Colin folded his arms. “I believe I won.”