Part of her brain branded her a liar. Part of her brain—and probably most of her body—wanted the infuriating man to stay.
“Ah, but I’m having so much fun I may never leave,” he told her. “Now, pay attention.”
He squeezed her tight and she felt a little dizzy.
“Okay, here’s what to do,” he told the room. “You elbow your assailant in the side as hard as you can.”
There was a pause. Kirsty wasn’t concentrating. All she could think about was that lazy thumb on her stomach and Lake’s whispers in her ear.
“Kirsty,” he said. “You’re not helping.”
She blinked hard as she tried to remember what they were doing.
“You want me to elbow you?” she said at last.
“Yes,” he said with patience.
“I think she wants to do more than elbow you, Lake,” someone called.
To prove them wrong, Kirsty jammed her elbow back. It glanced off him. Kirsty was okay with that; she didn’t like the thought of hurting anyone—even Lake.
“That was pathetic,” he said.
“I didn’t want to hurt you,” Kirsty said.
He actually laughed, which made her frown.
“That’s not going to happen.”
“Fine, then.”
With a grumpy frown she elbowed him again, putting more effort into it this time. It connected, but he didn’t even flinch.
“Better,” he said, and gave her another kiss on the cheek.
“You don’t kiss me when I do well,” someone protested.
“Yeah,” someone else said. “That’s favouritism.”
“Suck it up, ladies,” Lake said with good humour. “Now, the next thing you do after you elbow your attacker is to follow up with a stamp on the foot.”
Kirsty stamped down on this instep, but missed by a mile. She could almost feel him grin.
“That should—if you do it right—make your attacker release his hold enough for you to elbow him in the face.”
Kirsty just screwed that up completely. It was as though she didn’t have control over her elbow. Her shot missed him entirely. The women started to laugh.
“Lastly,” Lake said, “you punch him as hard as you can in the groin.”
Kirsty grinned wickedly. Now that she could do. As Kirsty’s arm swung out, Lake released her and took a wide step backwards.
There was more laughing. Kirsty glared at him.
“That’s cheating,” she told him.
“It’s self-preservation. Point to a man who willingly wants to be hit in the balls.”
He had a point. Kirsty grinned at him. Against her better judgment, she was having fun.
When Lake saw Kirsty smile at him, he wanted to clear the room and have her all to himself. He couldn’t. Instead he settled for more practice.
“Right,” Lake said. “That’s it. Now it’s time to practice. Pair up and keep practising until you can do this without thinking. Because when you’re in the sort of situation where you need these moves, you’ll be too scared to think and your actions have to be second nature.”
Kirsty walked over to get her coat.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Lake said.
“The demonstration is over. I’m leaving.”
“Oh no you’re not, not until you’ve practised.”
She smiled.
“The deal was for one demonstration, Lake,” she said. “I hope you aren’t thinking about backing out on an agreement?”
“I wouldn’t dream of it.”
“In that case, I’m going home.”
She picked up her coat.
“Don’t.” Lake put a hand on her arm. She was wearing a black ribbed polo neck that made his mouth water. “Stay,” he said. “Practice the moves.”
Kirsty turned to him, holding the coat in front of her like a barrier.
“Why should I stay?”
“I want you to learn these moves properly.”
Her green eyes darkened as she studied him.
“Why?” she asked again.
Lake ran a hand over his hair.
“Because I want you to fight back,” Lake told her. “A war is no fun if you don’t fight back.”
She stared at him for a while, obviously thinking things through. Lake held his breath while he waited.
“Fine,” she said at last.
To Lake’s surprise, he felt relief that she’d agreed. He took her by the hand to a space large enough to practice in. As he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, he inhaled her scent. Delicious.
“Seriously, Lake,” Kirsty said. “Why are you doing this?”
“I told you,” he said. “I want you to fight.”
There was a pause.
“I don’t know how,” she said softly.
Lake hated the way she sounded—defeated even before they started. It was a far cry from the hellion in the newspaper photo.
“That’s why I’m showing you,” he told her. “Trust me, Kirsty, this is going to be a blast.”
“You keep telling me that,” she said with resignation. “I’m getting a little worried that you might mean it literally.”
With a grin, Lake wound his arm around her waist. He felt her relax this time, rather than stiffen against him. He smiled into her hair. Perfect. She was perfect.
With a sigh of long suffering, Kirsty half-heartedly elbowed him in the side. Lake grinned widely.
“That’s pathetic,” he told her. “Come on, make it a good one. You can’t hurt me.”
Kirsty elbowed him again. Hard. Well, hard for her.
“That’s an improvement, but I’m pretty sure Jean can do better and she’s half your size.”
She frowned at him and elbowed him even harder.
“You’re cheesing me off now,” she told him.
“That’s just the way I want it,” he said, and she groaned.
As he dodged her other blows, he caught sight of something out of the corner of his eye.
By the door to the shop stood a fuming tartan Hobbit.
CHAPTER FIVE