Page 62 of Wedded to the Scottish Duke

Keith danced out of the way. Staying on his toes, he raised his hands a little in front of his chest but didn’t shield his face. He didn’t see the point when he didn’t intend to let the Bear land a single punch.

The Bear lunged forward again, and as Keith jumped out of the way, he fell forward over the ropes. People hollered and urged the Bear to his feet again as Keith laughed under his breath.

Aye, this is what I needed.

Suddenly, he wasn’t thinking about pleasure or infatuation. He wasn’t thinking about Celia. All he was thinking about was the excitement and the rush of the fight.

The Bear came at him again, and Keith saw his opportunity. As the Bear raised his hand high, Keith brought his forearm up against the Bear’s wrist, blocking it. It left the Bear’s torso exposed, so Keith could drive his right fist into the man’s gut.

Winded, the great brute of a man gasped and stumbled back a little.

“He got hit!” someone called from the crowd.

“I can’t remember anyone landing a blow on the Bear before.”

“Don’t worry, it won’t happen again. The Bear has never lost.”

Keith ignored the whispers. They weren’t helping matters.

He will lose today.

Keith raised his hands again, waiting for the Bear to recover before he landed his next blow. After all, what would be the point in ending this fight too quickly? Where would be the fun in that?

The Bear recovered and came at him again, swinging too wildly, lumbering forward.

Keith stepped out of the way and lifted his foot high. He kicked out at the Bear’s leg. It crumpled beneath him, so the man fell to one knee. Keith raised his fist and landed a punch on the side of the Bear’s face.

Once more, the crowd oohed in amazement.

Keith was enjoying himself too much to knock the Bear out just yet. He stepped back again and waved for the Bear to take his time in getting to his feet. The crowd erupted in laughter.

“He’s toying with the Bear!” a man tittered loudly.

“It will end now. Just you wait. The Bear will kill him.”

“They had to sweep a man off the platform with a broom last week when the Bear nearly killed him.”

Keith stood tall, waiting, hearing his heartbeat in his ears.

He wasn’t sure what made him do it. There was something moving in his peripheral vision, so he tilted his head to the side, just a little.

Then he saw her.

Standing there in the middle of one of the tiered seating was none other than the very woman he was trying to forget.

Celia?

She stood beside one of the opera singers who had been performing on the stage the night before. Celia was wide-eyed, not hollering like all the others around her, but staring, dumbstruck.

What the hell is she doing here?

“Look out!” Philip’s voice hollered from the crowd.

Keith didn’t see the punch coming, but the warning was enough to make him move.

He dodged to the side, the Bear’s punch almost catching his ear. How he managed to dodge the blow completely, he didn’t really know, but he drove his shoulder into the Bear’s gut and ran forward. The sheer velocity propelled the Bear backward. He fell onto his rear as Keith stood over him, but now Keith was finding it impossible to concentrate.

He stepped back, dancing around the Bear as the man groaned aloud and tried to get to his feet. Keith looked for her again.

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