A Dark Champion by Kinley MacGregor Page B

seems I am ever unbalanced in your lordship’s presence.”
    He rumbled a low laugh at that. He felt much the same way around her.
    She looked up at him with a searing gaze that made his groin tight and heavy. Aching. “But I am beginning to suspect my maids might be right about one thing.”
    “And that is?” he asked as he set her back on her feet.
    “Strong arms do have their uses at such times.”
    Her unexpected words made him a bit nervous. Was that truly a compliment from a woman who professed to hate all knights?
    He looked about as if expecting the Second Coming.
    “Are you all right, milord?”
    “Aye, but a compliment from you makes me fear that my death may be imminent.”
    She laughed at that. “If your death is imminent ’tis from that sword you carry and not from my tongue.”
    He arched a brow at her, but before he could speak, she continued, “I promised you that I would insult you no more. Therefore, my claws are effectively sheathed.”
    Strange, but he rather missed the angry minx. She was easy to keep his guard against. He found this new side of her disturbing. Beguiling.
    And the talk of her claws caused his gaze to drop to her hand where he noted she had her nails perfectly manicured. They were long and elegant.
    A perfect set to have skimming down a man’s spine….
    He stepped back as that unwanted thought went through him. He was beginning to think like Swan.
    “Where were you off to in such a hurry?” he asked, trying to distract himself.
    “Any place where none of my ladies-in-waiting can be found.”
    “And why is that?”
    “They have this foolish notion that you and I should wed.”
    He let out a long, aggravated breath at that. “Then let us put them with my men, who are equally determined to see me bachelor.”
    “Truly?”
    “Aye. They’ve no wish for our lives to change.”
    Her face turned speculative at that. “It might be interesting to let them loose on each other, just to see who wins, but in my experience, ’tis the man who invariably falls to the woman.”
    He arched a skeptical brow. “I wouldn’t say that. The surrender seems to be mutual.”
    “How do you figure?”
    “Man may take a bite of the apple, but afterward, the woman ends up following him wherever he leads.”
    “You think so?”
    “You think not?”
    She narrowed her eyes at him. “I think some lady needs to take that ego of yours down a notch or two.”
    Stryder gave her a hot once over. “And are you the lady to do it?”
    A slow, seductive smile spread across her face. “Aye, Lord Charming. Unlike the others you have known, I am quite immune to your assets.”
    “My assets?” he asked, intrigued by the notion that she had attributed any to him after their confrontation in the hall on the night they met. “And what would those be?”
    “I think you know well enough what most maids fawn over.”
    “But not you?”
    “Nay,” she said, raising her chin a degree. “I have never been swayed by bulging arms or a handsome face.” She placed her hand against the center of his chest. “It’s what a man has in here that matters to me.”
    Rowena had meant the words playfully, but the light in Stryder’s eyes went out immediately. His face turned gravely earnest.
    “Then we are truly ill suited, since I have nothing left in there.”
    His words surprised her. “Nothing?”
    “Nay, lady. That part of me died long ago.”
    His heart beat fiercely under her hand. It was every bit as strong as the man who stood before her. “For something dead, it seems powerful enough to me. Indeed, you didn’t hesitate to save Kit.”
    He withdrew from her.
    “Stryder?” she said, stopping him as he headed away from her.
    He paused and glanced back.
    “Thank you, again, for your courtesy.”
    By his frown she could tell her words confused him. In truth, she didn’t know why she was being so kind to a man she should hate and yet she didn’t find it within her to hurt him. There was enough pain in