Page 24 of Mark of Love (Love Mark 3)

As if that mattered.

There was no way he came in peace. High Cliff soldiers only killed or captured Graykeys.

Motherfucker. Where the hell had he come from?

How had he found me?

Heart leaping into my throat, I gulped and casually dropped my hands from my hair to let them land on the cloak I’d been wearing earlier at the market. It still lay pooled in a heap beside me and had a handful of daggers hidden all over inside it.

As my fingers crept along, inconspicuously searching, the man offered me a tremulous, almost nervous smile.

“Hi,” he said, his lips spreading wider. A friendly greeting.

I blinked. Never before had an assassin offered me a damn salutation. Especially a kind one.

I had no idea what that was about until his gaze dropped, and lust swirled in his blue eyes as he took in the places that my frock had soaked up some of the wetness from my skin and made the white cloth transparent. I was definitely giving him an eyeful of my chest, especially of my nipples that were still beaded and hard from my chilly dip in the stream.

Oh, hell no. If he thought he was going to get that before killing me, the sick bastard had another thing coming.

“I don’t think so, buddy,” I told him when I finally found a dagger. My fingers gripped the hilt, and I whipped my arm up, letting the blade fly with an underhanded flick of the wrist, aiming it directly at his head.

“Whoa!” He dipped to the side and just barely managed to avoid getting pierced in one of his pretty, blue eyes. He gazed after it as it embedded itself into a tree behind him. Then, with a low whistle, he turned back to me, his eyebrows lifted. “Impressive.”

“Thanks.” My fingers curled around the second dagger, ready to impress him again. I’d have to be faster this time; he’d had no problem dodging the last one. As I eased it free from its sheath and palmed the handle, I slowly rose to my feet.

The knight dropped his gaze to my hand and grinned.

“Though, might I suggest aiming for the body instead of the head when throwing a weapon,” he said. “You have more surface area there and better odds of hitting your target while still being just as deadly.”

“Good idea.”

I released the second dagger, and he swore fluidly as he jumped back, arching in his stomach to avoid contact.

“Yes,” he applauded, pointing at me with a proud grin. “Perfect. Maybe don’t try the same move twice in a row like that; you’ll start to become predictable and easily defeated. But that throw was spot on. Very nice.”

“New move, you say?” Stomping my foot down on the sword that had been lying beside me, I caused the hilt end to rear up toward my hand where I caught it and lifted it threateningly, ready to engage him in hand-to-hand combat. “Thanks again. Any other valuable advice you wish to give?”

Crouching into a defensive position with his knees bent and hands lifted, he ignored his own sword that hung from the scabbard at his side and merely offered me an amused chuckle. “I’m beginning to think any other fighting tips I give would not end to my benefit. Tell me, do you always try to kill people you’ve just met?”

“When they’ve been following me for a week after I’ve made it clear I don’t want their company? Yes.”

His brow furrowed. He didn’t like that answer, and it was the first time I’d seen him not look entertained since he’d started this cat-and-mouse game with me. “But how do you know you don’t want my company? You didn’t even give me a chance to explain my reasons for—”

“Reasons?” I snorted. “A High Cliff knight relentlessly pursuing me? I think I can ascertain for myself why you seek an audience.”

Still barefoot and my hair soaking wet, I charged, leaping off the boulder as I went. The High Clifter blinked, as if stunned and maybe even a little hurt and disappointed by my attack.

Which confused me. Hadn’t we just been talking about how I considered him a foe?

I swung, and he easily—too easily—ducked, swerving to the side. After a minute of fending me off with no weapon, he finally parried one of my attacks by nudging me in the back with his arm, right in the middle of my spine, which caused me to lose my balance and go stumbling forward, straight past him.

“Shit,” he muttered in distress. “Are you okay?”

Was I okay? Hell, no, I wasn’t okay. This guy was kicking my ass, and he wasn’t even fighting back.

As soon as I caught myself, I fumed and whirled back to him, more determined than ever to run him through, once and for all, and be done with this humiliating nonsense.

Tilting his head to the side, as if trying to read the thoughts in my head, he drew his sword slowly, making sure I saw it make an appearance. I got the feeling he was trying not to alarm me, and yet my entire system tightened with panic. I’d never been good at fencing. There was no doubt his skill far outmeasured mine; he’d been besting me for the last five minutes without even using his damn blade. I’d be dead in a nanosecond if he decided to fight back. But that wasn’t going to stop me from dueling until the last breath of air left my lungs.

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