“What are you wearing?” Loch asked.
I’d heard him a bare second before he spoke, so I managed not to jump into next week in fright. My heart rate still needed a second to recover, however. It needed quite a bit longer when I saw he’d showered and shaved.
“Did you buy soap or shampoo yesterday?” That would solve one problem.
Loch looked at me like I was crazy. Okay, then. I guess I was the only one who cared that my shower involved actual cleansers.
“I’m going out. I need shampoo, even if you don’t. And laundry detergent. And food.”
“And you’re going dressed like that?”
“Yes. With the cloak, of course. What’s wrong with this? I saw several women dressed similarly to this yesterday and everyone left them alone.”
“That’s because the men all know those women belong to Mr. Goswami, who will break any man’s face who so much as looks at one of his wives or daughters wrong. You, however, are neither wife nor daughter. And before you try it, no. You’re much too tall to pass for either.”
“How could you possibly know that?”
“I was warned,” he said, “when it appeared I’d been staring at the lady in question for too long. In fact I was watching the door behind her, but the merc who warned me didn’t know that.”
“Well, then I guess the men will have to learn that I, too, will break any man’s face who tries to start shit with me.”
“And you think a random woman wearing a full face veil and kicking ass is just going to fly right past Rockhurst? He’ll snatch you up before you set foot wherever you’re going.”
“Very well,” I said. “With the understanding that I will buy shampoo, laundry detergent, and food today, what would you suggest instead?”
“I suggest you eat an energy bar and give up on soap,” Loch said. “The more often we’re out, the more dangerous it is.”
He was right, dammit. But if I had to sit and dawdle in this room all day, I’d go crazy. And while I could think of one delicious way we could pass the time, that would complicate matters even more, especially with Bianca’s warning fresh in my mind.
I changed back into the clothes I’d taken from the escape ship. I was frustrated enough that I didn’t even care that Loch was in the room, though I changed my pants under the cover of the tunic and turned my back on him to change my shirt.
The drab camo and black mocked the beauty of my former outfit. Impatience and annoyance nipped at me. I needed to recenter myself before I did something stupid. And while seated meditation was always an option, I needed movement.
I moved to the center of the room, closed my eyes, and inhaled deeply through my nose. I held the breath for a few beats then released it through my mouth. Five more deep breaths and I fell into the beginning stance of my short, meditative martial arts form.
Solo, weaponless martial arts forms could be done anywhere with no equipment, so it was something all the von Hasenberg children were taught from a young age. We’d had thirty minutes of practice in various styles before class every day. It helped to build strength and flexibility, but it also helped to calm and center the mind.
I focused on the movements and let the rest of the world fade away. Tension faded, replaced with strength and calm. I finished the sequence and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, Loch stood in front of me.
“Care to spar?” he asked.
Chapter 9
There are moments in your life when you absolutely know what you should do and then you absolutely choose to do something else entirely.
This was one of those moments.
“I would love to spar,” I said. “No face, no eyes, no balls, and, for the love of God, pull your punches. Agreed?”
“Agreed,” he said. He dropped into a typical mixed martial arts stance. I mirrored his stance and nodded my readiness.
Even obviously slowed down he moved like lightning. I went defensive, dancing out of his reach and deflecting the blows I couldn’t avoid. His form was tight and he didn’t leave openings in his guard. My self-defense tutor would’ve loved him.
“You gonna hit me, darling, or you just gonna dance around?” he asked a few minutes later.
I dodged a slow jab at my side. “Hand-to-hand fighting is a last resort for me, and I generally learned how to do it just long enough to make an opportunity to run.” I blocked a stomach blow then flowed away from a right cross that would’ve clipped my shoulder. “Which means I fight dirty then run away. Since neither of those is an option right now, I’m biding my time.”
Loch stopped attacking and stepped back into a defensive stance. “Your time is now,” he said with a grin. “Bring it on.”
I feinted a right then got through his guard low with my left fist.
“That was well done,” he said. “You didn’t telegraph your intentions at all.”
“My self-defense tutor could be a bitch, but she had my best interest at heart. She taught me well. It’s not her fault that I didn’t take to fighting.”
I jabbed at him a few more times, both straight punches and feints, but now he was on guard and blocked or dodged all my attempts. That was why, in a real fight, the first feint would be followed by the hardest punch I could throw. You only had one chance to surprise an opponent with skill.
Loch struck out with his left fist. I saw the blow too late to do more than tense my ab muscles. Even pulled it landed hard enough to smart. I backed away into a defensive stance.
“Don’t run away,” Loch said.
“I just told you that running away is one of the core pillars of my fighting strategy.”
“Okay,” he allowed, “run away in a real fight, but don’t run away from me. I promised to pull my punches.”
“Yeah, but I didn’t promise to stand around as a human punching bag,” I said as I dodged yet another attempt at my midsection.
“You’re quick,” Loch said, “and good at reading your opponent. With a little more training you wouldn’t have to worry about running.”
I laughed. “Don’t think my tutor didn’t try. I have the knowledge but not the desire. I will fight viciously to save my life or rescue a friend, but most other situations can just as easily be solved by evasion.”
“How are you at grappling?”
“Worse than terrible,” I said. I watched him closely, because I had a feeling he wasn’t asking just for the fun of it. I wasn’t lying; if he caught me, it was over.
I avoided him for a minute, but then he snagged my arm and used my own momentum to spin me around until I was trapped with my back against his chest. My arms crossed in front of me and he had a hand clamped around each of my wrists.
“How do you get out of this hold?”
“First, I head-butt you,” I said while I mimed doing it. “Then I stomp on your toes if you’re not wearing boots. Then I hook my foot here,” I said, wrapping my foot around his lower right leg, “and throw my weight back while you’re off-balance.”
“That would probably work, though then you’d be on the ground. How about this one?” He spun me around until my back was against the wall then pressed close.
I hit him with my sexiest smoldering glance. “First,” I said, “I look at you like this. Then I run my hand up your chest like this.” I demonstrated, but kept going until my hand rested on the back of his head.
“Then I pull your head down to mine,” I said. I licked my lips and his eyes dropped half-closed. “And head-butt your nose, gouge your eyes, and knee you in the balls,” I whispered a centimeter from his mouth.
Loch froze then burst out laughing. “That definitely would work.” He let me go and backed away. I fought the urge to pull him back and kiss him for real.
I changed the subject to safer topics. “So now you know why running is the core tenet of my defense,” I said.