“Even though you’re small, you can use your weight to your advantage. With the right leverage and a bit of physics, there are ways to bring even large opponents to their knees.”
She nodded, then lunged at him, thrusting her elbow into his throat. He caught on barely in time, sidestepping to take the blow to the side of his throat instead of the center where she’d aimed. He staggered backward, coughing. Before she could revel in her success and consider a second move, he grabbed her and spun her around, jerking her back against his chest.
“Ah, ah, lassie. Mythean Guardian here, remember? I like that you fight dirty, but it’s going to be harder to pull one over on me now. But points for sneakiness.”
His voice, rough from the blow, sent shivers down her spine. She was surrounded by his arms and chest, hot as a flame. Was he flirting with her?
Yes, she decided. Yes, he was.
“How did you learn to do that?” he asked.
She swallowed, tried to focus on her answer and not on the feel of him. “I didn’t. You said leverage and physics, so I put the force of my body behind my elbow, ensuring that the force would be focused on a small surface area and act upon you most strongly. Then I aimed for a delicate area.”
“Like I thought, no problem with cleverness.” He released her.
“Okay, now what?” She was eager to continue the lessons. There were scarier things out there than the trees that scratched at the windows. With each new skill, each new bit of information, the helplessness leached away and she felt her courage growing.
“I have a feeling you’re a natural. Let’s practice,” Cadan said. “I’m going to come at you like an assailant. Try to fend me off.”
They practiced for hours, until Diana was tired but certain her skill in combat wasn’t a fluke. It was totally weird, but she was a natural. Maybe her body really did remember things that her mind didn’t. More than that, she couldn’t shake the flashes of recognition when she looked at Cadan.
Especially now that she’d tackled him to the ground and sat astride him. Normally, she’d have hopped up and he’d have issued another challenge. But she couldn’t make herself move.
“Why do you seem so familiar?” she asked, unable to take her eyes off his face. So handsome. But so strangely familiar, even though she was certain she’d never met him before.
“We’ve been around each other a lot. Now get off.” His voice was tight.
She shook her head. His body was huge and hard beneath hers, and he looked up at her with surprised heat in his eyes.
“I really do think there is a lot you aren’t telling me,” she said, then tentatively ran her hands down his chest to see what he would do.
His jaw tensed and his hands shot up to grip her thighs, almost reflexively, as if he would stop her but didn’t quite want to. She decided that distracting him from his objections would be an excellent way to get him relaxed enough to answer her questions about Verulamium, which she couldn’t get off her mind.
And being on top, in control, sent a wild and heady power streaking through her veins. The proof of his attraction—the hard shaft now pressed against her, the light mist of sweat at his brow, his shallow breaths—gave her courage. So she braced herself for rejection, clung to hope, and said, “I have a question.”
“You have a lot of questions,” he said, his voice pained and his gaze racing over her form.
“True. I’m a historian, after all. Which leads me to my question. Why is it,” she asked, as she ran a hand over his hard chest, “that you are so very large?”
He could push her off him at any moment, but from the way he looked at her, eyes fierce, he wouldn’t be doing so anytime soon. “What do you mean?”
“Well, you’re over three hundred years old. And you’re nearly six and a half feet tall. You shouldn’t be this tall. Three hundred years ago, hardly anyone had your height. Were you really this big back then?” She ached to put her hands on the bronzed flesh she’d revealed, but resisted.
“Wisely noted,” he said as he squeezed her thighs.
Had he spread them slightly apart? She shivered.
“I wasn’t always this tall. But as a guardian, we’re meant to protect. To be the strongest in this world.” He paused to draw in a deep breath. “So we grow. As the average mortal height increases, so does ours.”
“Ah, I see.” She bit her lip, her gaze drawn once again to the expanse of his chest, and gave in to temptation. She ran both hands over his pecs, nearly sighing at the feel of hot, hard muscles beneath her palms. A small noise strangled in his throat.
“And why is it that you’re so, well, muscular? Were you always this strong?” She was buttering him up with compliments, but she was genuinely interested. She’d get to the real questions soon enough.
He shrugged. “Aye.”
Wow, so this is how he had looked three hundred years ago? Three hundred years. Or older? Much, much older? The idea was so terrifying and so insane that her mind backed away from it immediately. It couldn’t be, and with him here to distract her, it was easy to force something so awful to the back of her mind.
***