Page 37 of The Lost Guard's Healer

After some lingering chuckles, I sober up. “That trick you did with Bohan. Where you bent his wrist. Can you… show me how you did it?”

“I feel like the Shanti people are going to have a lot of broken wrists if I do that.”

I smile, and Rourk smiles back. I can’t help but stare at him, and he stares right back. I’m not so sure I would agree with Kris when she called Rourk handsome. No, he’s… beautiful.

“I promise only to use it in life or death situations,” I eventually say, and press my hand over my heart in a swear. But then I add, “Or when someone truly deserves it.”

Rourk gives in, leading me off the trail and to somewhere just a little more protected. Private. We reach the shade of a cluster of trees and face each other. Birds chirp and rustle above us.

Rourk goes through the motions of slowly throwing a punch to show me how to grab his wrist, where to place my fingers, and where and when to exert force. It only takes me a few tries to get the hang of it. Within minutes, I have him down on one knee with his wrist twisted back.

“I can get used to this,” I say with a wicked grin.

I gently apply more pressure to his wrist before releasing him with a sweet smile.

“But can you do it at speed?” Rourk asks, and we try a few more times with him throwing fast but soft punches at me.

I adapt to the change of pace quickly. “Like a natural warrior,” he praises. I hate how good his words make me feel.

“What else do you have to teach me?” I ask, bouncing lightly with adrenaline.

Rourk stares at me for a long moment, then shakes his head and grins. “Okay, Galene,” he says. “Let’s see what else you can do.”

He shows me how to throw a punch, and then a combination of punches, but then I ask about self defense. So he teaches me what to do if someone grabs me.

He comes at me from the side, moving slowly as he explains what he’s doing and what I should do, and reaches for me. He shows me how to raise a hand to intercept his arm and how to twist his arm with both of my hands, forcing his arm to bend. I admit that I take a little too much pleasure in twisting his arm, in watching him fold from my actions.

“Now, if someone grabs you from behind,” he says, “you can twist your body to give yourself room to jab an elbow in their ribs.”

With his arms around my neck, he shows me where to place my feet and how to position myself. I restrain myself from hurting him when I elbow his side to get the feel for what I’m supposed to do.

He shows me again, and this time I don’t resist. I let him wrap his arms around me and he presses himself against my back. And then we just… remain there, with his face close to mine, breathing against my ear. His arm is resting gently on the top of my breasts and each breath presses them firmly against him. As I turn my head to meet his eyes, I see his expression turn hooded, and I know that if I stay here even just a few seconds more, his lips will be on mine. I want that.

But I can't let it happen.

“I think that’s enough,” I say, becoming shy and quiet as I ease away from Rourk.

I don’t give him the chance to say anything before turning back towards the path we were taking and striding away, refusing to look behind me but knowing with every bone in my body that Rourk is there, just a step behind.

We crest a tall hill and finally see the edge of the woods that leads to the Shanti Village far in the distance. We still have a way to go, but we’re making good progress.

When we come across another rabbit in the underbrush of a small woods, I insist on catching this one.

Or trying, anyway, because when I toss the knife, I miss. The rabbit scurries away.

“We’ll make a soldier of you yet,” Rourk says encouragingly.

“If only the rabbit had tried to punch me,” I reply, fighting off the smile that threatens to cross my face. “I’d know how to twist its wrist at least.”

We go through the sack of supplies and find some dried meat and hard bread. Along with the water skins, there is a coiled rope, and a rough spun blanket. Neither of us mention how we could have used the blanket last night if we’d known it was in there. I wonder if either of us regrets not having it.

We eat as we walk for a time before my stomach starts to twist. I can’t help the groan that escapes my lips.

“What’s wrong?” he asks. The concern in his voice is palpable.

“I get this when I walk and eat,” I explain. “I’ll be fine.”

“We can rest for a bit,” Rourk says. “We’ve been making good time. Unless… you want to get back as soon as possible?”

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