Page 43 of Recurve Ridge

“I asked you to spar with me,” I corrected. Her breathing was way too fast for my liking. “Are you okay? I’m sorry I scared the shit out of you. I?—”

Her boot thunked against the top of my thigh and left me with an instant dead leg. I kept my expression blank despite wanting to drop to one knee and yowl like a wounded animal. My thigh muscles fucking stung at the contact, though the thought almost brought a smile to my lips. I hid that too.

Mari Merripen has bite when cornered. Noted.

Add that to the list of things I liked far too much about this girl.

“Ow,” I said in a sedate voice that betrayed none of the excruciating pain that speared my leg.

Mari grinned. “Sorry. I can go hard.”

“No need to apologize.” I held up a hand, and her grin grew wider. “Let’s try this for real now.”

“Is that what we’re calling it?” She let me circle around her at a short distance, pivoting on her heel to prevent me getting inside her blind spot.

Pine mulch crackled underfoot as she joined me in a dance of bobbing and jabbing, feints and quicksteps. It wasn’t strenuous work by any means, but her chest rose and fell, her cheeks flushing after a few minutes.

And those motherfucking shadows I hated seeing behind her eyes stayed away.

“Am I pushing you too hard?” I murmured, reaching out to brush the backs of my knuckles over her cheek.

I never got to make contact.

Mari batted my hand aside and used the opening to punch me in the stomach. I doubled over at the waist, wheezing, making out that the light jab did more damage than intended. She didn’t take the bait, laughing at my pantomime and dancing out of my reach when I lunged for her.

Her feet moved fast, but her darting steps faded as I gave chase around the clearing. She wove between trees, laughing… until her tone changed and became more ragged. Her step faltered, slowing her progress.

I wrapped an arm around her waist, drawing her back into me in a grip that was firm but not unbreakable.

“Mari, sweetheart. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She gulped in harsh lungfuls of mountain air.

Her hands wound around my forearm, sharp nails digging crescent moon impressions into my skin where she clutched at me, but she didn’t fight to escape. She offered a small measure of trust—a grain, if that—but I felt like we’d jumped off a small ledge together and made it down a steep incline unscathed. Kind of.

“Liar,” I murmured against her hair, arcing over her to lean my cheek on the top of her head. Mountain air mingled witheau de Mari, filling my head with images that shouldn’t be there while I held her, protected her. Even from myself. “I shouldn’t have chased you.”

She shook her head, but the negative never fell from her lips.

“Yes, you should have. And you need to teach her more than to run like a fucking rabbit terrified of losing her hide. Because if that’s what she does with any damn predator, then the end result is a forgone conclusion.”

My shoulders tightened, though no enemy stood at my back.

“Thank you, Miller.” My words came out clipped at the end. “I’ve got this.”

“Bullshit. You know I’m right.”

Every instinct fought against what he said, but I knew he spoke the truth I didn’t want to face. Finding a way to teach Mari eluded me the moment I froze up.

“He’s right.” Mari tilted her head back, looking up into my eyes, close enough to kiss if I lifted her off her toes and pressed my mouth against hers.

What the fuck, Robe? Head. Out. Of. Her. Pussy.

She needed to be healed, not fucked by a rowdy group of men. I closed my eyes, my lips tight. Alan’s little playtime session had proved his point. I got it; Mari needed the contact, the security we could offer her—whatIcould offer her, but I wasn’t ready to go there just yet. I couldn’t trust myself, and I still wasn’t sure how long I’d hold on to the grudge my stripper didn’t know I carried that he took pleasure from her before I did.

Even more so that I didn’t listen to him in the first place.

Now is not the time. Asshole.

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