The Bargain by Julia Templeton

had swung it as though it were as light as a bag of feathers.
    The guard who had been watching her, held his hand out for the sword, expecting her to hand it over. She shook her head and was amused to see the wariness in his eyes. Did he actually fear she would use the sword and hurt him, or even kill him? The thought amused her almost as much as it disturbed her.
    Renaud, having motioned the guard away, ran a hand through his hair. "God's breath, woman, you could have been killed."
    She lifted a brow. "And would that be so terrible?"
    He frowned. "Aye, it would."
    Surprised by the declaration, for it looked like he meant it, Aleysia shifted on her feet. "Would you like to fight, my lord?"
    "With you?"
    "Are you afraid?"
    His lips curved slightly. "I fear no man, but I refuse to fight a woman."
    She swung the sword up and around, catching him off guard, and he faltered back a few steps. His brows furrowed. "Aleysia, I am in no mood for games."
    "This is no game, my lord," she replied, taking a step forward and swinging again, this time with all her might.
    He held her off, not swinging back, but using his sword to block each blow. Her hands shook with the power it took to hold the heavy sword, the muscles in her upper arms burning with the strain. She was well used to handling weapons, though never one this large.
    Seeing the irritation in his eyes, she almost smiled, but refrained, knowing it would only anger him. Meanwhile, Galeran laughed loudly, watching with fascination—as did the rest of Renaud's men who had gathered around.
    "Aleysia..." There was a warning in Renaud's voice, one she ignored as she swung yet again.
    But this time he did more than block the blow. He used force, then brought his sword around to unarm her, so fast she did not have time to blink.
    She rushed for the sword, but he grabbed her arm and brought her up against him, trapping both her hands behind her back with one of his own. "Aleysia, stop this."
    "Why—are you afraid to be bested by a woman?"
    He grinned then, his white teeth flashing, and to her horror her stomach coiled tightly. "You would not win."
    "Then why will you not let me try?"
    "Because you are a lady, and ladies do not wield swords." Gray eyes flashed with humor, but Aleysia found no humor in his words. It was a slight against her, and though she knew she should not take the words to heart, she did. No doubt his betrothed would never have worn men's clothing, nor would she use weapons as Aleysia had her entire life. She knew that aside from embroidery, which her mother had insisted she learn, she would always prefer the sports of men. She loved the feeling of holding a bow taut, notching an arrow—the pride in hitting a mark, in bringing down an animal. She had always enjoyed wearing men's clothing over pretty gowns, and that would never change. Even now she yearned for her breeches and loose-fitting tunic.
    Her father had often said he felt like he had two sons, rather than a son and a daughter, and that had never bothered her—until today. She suddenly felt foolish and unfeminine, and for whatever reason, she wondered again where Renaud had spent last night. Visions of him wrapped in a buxom woman's embrace came unheeded and she pushed them away with a shake of her head.
    Why should she care where and with whom he slept? In truth, she should be relieved he had already grown weary of her and slated his lust with another. Furious at herself and de Wulf, she tried to pull away, but he held firm.
    Unable to keep his intense stare for fear he would read the jealousy in her eyes, she let her gaze fall to eye level. A huge mistake, for the golden skin that covered his defined chest made her remember him as he'd been the first time they'd made love. His chest heaving as he fought for control to keep from climaxing before she found her release. The sweat that glistened there now—that had glistened then, in the light of the fire.
    Her body throbbed, remembering the feel of his long,