Page 68 of Spar of Hearts

He could make her sweat.

“It was an honor, Your Highness. Now, I’ve worked up an appetite. I’m going to breakfast,” Theresa said, rolling her shoulders. “See you down there, sir.” Theresa nodded to Roderick, then made for the lower decks. Anya started to follow.

“If you think Dame Fletcher is good,” he started, relishing the pause in Anya’s step. “You should spar with her teacher.” The whipping wind threatened to undo her bun. And was there a faint scent of blossoms in it? It had to be his imagination. Dry land wasn’t even in sight.

“Wonderful idea. Where is Octavio?” Anya shielded her eyes from the sun, searching in dramatic fashion.

Ouch—but touché.

“You know very well who taught her.” He drew his rapier. “Unless you’re looking for an excuse to tuck tail?”

Anya laughed and tossed her cutlass between her hands. “Never. But if you want a rematch, just say so.”

“I want a rematch. And not only that—” He stepped to her, gingerly holding the face of her blade between his fingers. He lowered his voice to a whisper, “I don’t want you to go easy on me this time.”

“You’re smarter than you look.” Anya chuckled, pulling her blade back. It was a backhanded compliment, but it felt so good.

“High praise. I should like more of it,” he crooned.

“Best me, and you shall have it.”

Anya’s wolfish eyes were positively stunning in the early morning sunlight. They were also his weakness. He straightened, hoping the slight hitch to his breath didn’t give him away. If she put this moment together with the distraction her lip-licking had given him during their first spar, he would be done for. It would take just one feigned kiss, maybe even a perfectly-timed groan, to bring him to his knees.

“Ready?” He stepped back, assuming a defensive position.

“As I’ll ever be.”

Anya started with a feint to the left, drawing a quick parry from him that only met air as she spun to his right, slashing toward his shoulder. He met it with a quick deflection, catching her eyes widen in surprise. Yet again, she was underestimating his speed. Perhaps she thought him a bit drowsy. Though he’d just woke, her spirit had him fired up from basking in its starry glow. He could tell she was giving it her all, and he loved every second of it.

Octavio was right. Anya wasn’t Millicent.

She was so much more.

The smooth schink of their blades filled the open air, bouncing between the sails as he coaxed her toward the stairs to the lower deck, moving back a few feet with every cut and parry. Anya’s strength was astounding. She really had been holding back before. Should he have guessed that sooner? Probably. She’d thrown a grown man overboard after all.

On the spacious deck and with an opponent of equal height, her swordplay was top notch. She had surely learned under the tutelage of the Captain of the royal guard, Royce Ronaldo—the very man who’d taught the former Commander of the Petorus Knights, his own mentor.

No match should stay equal for long, the Commander had said.

With most of the crew in the galley or topside, the halls of the lower deck were fair game. It was time to tip the scales. He shoved her back with a cross from his rapier and ran for the steps.

“Where are you going?” Anya shouted, swiping her cutlass in an X.

“Come find out!”

Roderick dared to turn his back and raced down the steps. His heart sped the moment he heard the speedy click of her boots rush after him.

He ducked under the shadow of the steps, panting. Not from exhaustion, but exhilaration. Surprise was an essential element of any good sword fight, and Anya deserved nothing less than the best.

She’d caught on. Anya’s labored breaths alerted him to her position down the hall. He fought most unbecoming thoughts that threatened to lower his guard—would she sound the same in the throes of passion? Would she whimper and growl?

Most importantly, would she bite?

He sure hoped so.

A sliver of blonde hair came into view, and he pressed his back flat against the wall under the steps as she passed. Her hair was loosed from its bun, cascading down her shoulders and chest.

Oh she knew. She definitely knew what she did to him.