The naked blades flickered in the sunlight. Wade and Mic danced around each other, dodging and slicing, moving quicker. The speed and skill of their dance, the precision of their cutting blades, and lack of blood spilled was a testament to their adeptness.
Lillian gasped and the small distraction nearly cost him. Cloth tore and fire flared briefly along his ribs. Mic sidestepped Wade’s next cut and slipped beneath his guard, disarming him and sweeping his legs out from beneath him in a single fluid moment.
Wade’s foot shot out as he fell, catching Mic’s leg. He stumbled, throwing his knife to the side so as not to fall on it. He wanted to beat his brother in a fight not kill him. They wrestled on the ground like schoolboys until Mic succeeded in placing Wade in a chokehold.
Rising off the ground like a bull, Mic rode on his brother’s back, arm firmly around his throat and legs wrapped around his waist. Wade swung his body, seeking to throw Mic off his back.
Wade was shorter, stronger, and stockier. He relied more on brute strength, giving Mic the advantage of speed and cunning.
“Alright,” Wade gasped. “You win.”
Mic instantly released him, grinning.
Lillian stomped over to them, hands on her hips, looking very much like a disapproving mother. “I can’t believe you two! I let you out of my sight to wash the dishes, and when I come out here, I see you two trying to kill each other. Only you were just playing?”
Mic laughed, grabbing her around the waist and swinging her around. “We’re practicing. And now it’s your turn. You get to practice with the knife.” He kissed her soundly on the lips.
“Hey!” Wade shouted. “I don’t want to see that.”
She smirked at Wade then brought her arms around Mic’s neck and kissed him in return.
The feel of her lips, lush and soft over his, sparked interest in his lower extremities and he groaned.
“I’m ready to practice,” she said.
Mic grew harder yet grinned at the innocent remark. He was so ready to practice, but what he wanted to practice at that second had nothing to do with knife fighting. It involved a bed, Lillian, and himself.
Wade laughed until he couldn’t stand any longer and fell on the ground.
“Eww,” Noah said from behind Lillian. “It’s Jane and Wade all over again.”
She frowned, her eyes darkening. “I don’t get it. What’s so funny?”
Wade shook his head. “If you haven’t asked her to marry you by now,” he gasped, “you’d better do it soon or the baby will be here before a wedding.”
Her cheeks flushed a light pink and she looked rather cute in her indignation. “Whatever Noah told you, it’s not true.”
Wade stared at her, then Mic, and finally at Noah, before he burst into another round of laughter. Holding one side of his chest, he shook his head and wiped tears from his eyes. “Don’t make me laugh. It hurts.”
Refusing to make eye contact with any of them, she took the knife out of her belt and asked, “Now, how do I use this?”
Mic kicked dirt at his brother, who was too far away for it to touch, and repositioned Lillian’s hand for a better grip. “First, I never want you to get into a knife fight like you saw me and Wade doing. I would rather you were safe. So if you can, hurt them where it counts, then run and hide. Got it?”
Eyeing Wade who was sitting on the ground braying like a donkey, she nodded. “Got it.”
“The whole point of this is to show you ways to use the knife to your best advantage, but remember no matter how good you are, you’ll never be strong enough to go one on one with a man. You need to work smarter.” He turned to Wade. “Get up, you idiot. You’re the practice dummy.”
Wade stood, still gasping. “Ready?”
She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. Then she lowered her voice so Wade couldn’t hear and asked, “Am I supposed to practice the…uh,” she glanced at Wade, “kicking the man where it counts thing or just use the knife?”
Mic winced. He doubted his brother would appreciate her kicking him in the family jewels. Although after everything Wade had put her through, it was a very tempting idea. “Let’s leave that for another day, my Uzizitka. We’re just going to use the knife right now.” He stepped up behind Lillian, his hand sliding along her arm, closing around the hand holding the knife hilt. His body pressed tightly to hers. His other hand snaked around her waist. “Now follow my movements.” He glanced at his brother. “Ready, Wade?”
Wade nodded and came at Lillian and Mic slowly moved, letting her see his movements. As she grew accustomed to the knife, his movements quickened, leading her into swifter thinking and reacting.
Mic guided her through the gliding dance of fighters Jim had once shown him as a boy, but it hadn’t been anywhere near as pleasant as what he experienced now. Every brush of her against him sent sparks tingling over his skin.
As with everything, Lillian learned quickly, her movements going from uncertain to more confident, moving slightly ahead of his as she watched and anticipated Wade’s next move.
Wade’s grin grew.
“Why do I have the feeling that Wade’s enjoying this too much?” she asked, a worried frown on her face.
Wade wasn’t the only one enjoying himself. Mic was having a difficult time keeping his mind on knife practice and not the other type of practice Lillian had so innocently implied earlier. Her body slid along his, pressing on parts of his anatomy he so wanted her to touch. He could feel himself hardening against her bottom and prayed to God she didn’t feel it.
His need to finish what he had started with Lillian earlier was strengthening by the second. He didn’t think he could wait until after they saved Lloyd to marry Lillian without wanting to take advantage of her. Only his promise to her kept him from acting on his baser impulses. “He likes to fight.”
“Apparently,” she muttered under her breath. “Does he have any idea how scary he is?”
Mic gave into his urge and nipped her on the side of her neck. “No.”
She giggled and wiggled closer to him.
“Stop distracting her,” Wade growled, upping the pace a little, judging her movements. He was a good instructor when he wanted to be and right now he seemed to be applying himself to the task very nicely. “She needs to focus.”
“Mic’s more fun than you,” she teased and snuggled up to him again.
Mic groaned. Did she know what she was doing to him? Every second of her teasing was bringing him closer to exploding. Only he refused to release her and allow Wade to mock the hardness pressing against his pant seam.
Wade laughed, shaking his head, and stepping back. “If you keep that up, Lillian, you won’t make it to your wedding night.”
“Oh, that’s silly. Mic’s got perfect self-control. ”
While the pride in her tone warmed him, he wasn’t so sure. He was powerfully close to losing his self-control and his heart to the woman wiggling her nice bottom against his groin.
Wade stumbled and Lillian’s blade scored his arm, drawing blood. A flesh wound by their standards. It was the price of working with unsheathed blades. “Stop making me laugh,” he chuckled, backing away from them. “Mic’s self-control isn’t that good.”
She gasped and pulled away from Mic, sheathing her knife as she came to inspect his arm. “Are you alright? I didn’t mean to hurt you. ”
Wade glanced at Mic over her head with a wink. His arm shot out, jerking her against him, knife at her neck, the other wrapped around her waist. “Never drop your guard, soon-to-be sister. An enemy won’t hesitate. They won’t give you the same consideration. In practice, you face your enemy…. even if he wears the face of a friend.”
It took all of Mic’s remaining self-control to restrain himself from crossing the distance and attacking his brother. Seeing Lillian in his grasp, even knowing his brother wasn’t going to hurt her, had every muscle in his body tense and ready. The need to protect his strong, yet delicate woman was hard to ignore.
Her green eyes were wide, frightened. She grabbed Wade’s arm and nodded. “Got it. I shouldn’t believe anything the enemy says or does.” She tried to push the knife away from her neck, but his arm didn’t budge. “Can I go now?”
Mic shook his head and said the hardest words he’d ever have to say to her. “Get yourself out.”
She stood there for several seconds as if she couldn’t believe what she’d heard. Then she made a pitiful groan and leaned against Wade’s chest, careful of the knife. “What did you put in the food?”
Wade grinned and shook his head, shifting his grip to hold her. “Might work with Mic, but it’s not going to work with me.”
“But if I throw up, then it’s going to get all over you.”
He chuckled. “I’ve had worse all over me.”
“Darn you,” she muttered, sniffing. Tears came to her eyes. “This is so hard. I don’t think I can do it. You’re both such strong men, and I came from back East, you know. They don’t let ladies fight with knives back there.” A couple tears slid down her cheeks, tearing at Mic’s heart. “Why do you have to be so scary?”
Wade’s grip loosened slightly around her waist. The knife fell away from her neck and he sheathed it. “Tears, Lillian?” Several plopped on his forearm. “If someone like Charles gets a hold of you, tears won’t save you.”
The crying ended abruptly and she sighed. “Well, it was worth a shot. Alright. You got me. I’m dead. Now what?”
Mic smiled and stepped forward, a large grin on his face. “You did good, Lillian,” he complimented her. “Most men see women’s tears as weakness, that they can be easily subdued. But tears are more to your favor than flirting.”
“You’re generous,” she told Mic, pushing against Wade’s restraining arm again, “but I don’t think he was fooled for a minute.”
“Because you tore out a chunk of his hair and you’d known him only a few minutes. Wade knows you’re likely to fight him rather than cry. Tears won’t work so well on him.”
“So people like Charles and Robert probably wouldn’t care if a woman was hurt, would they? I need to figure out a different way to do things. Robert doesn’t have enough hair to grab, so that won’t work. ”
“Not a different way, but you need to figure out what to do next.”
She crossed her arms and glanced from one to the other. “So if I was trapped in a perilous situation with one of them, what would be my best bet?”
“I don’t know about Robert, but Charles sees women as lesser, weak. Tears are a sign of weakness to him. He would enjoy them. And that helps you. The weaker you appear to him, the lower his guard will be. The more chances you’ll have to escape him. Bide your time. Outwait him. Seek a possible escape. ”
She nodded. “So I should stay still for the time being and let them win until they’re looking the other way. I think I can do that.”
Wade nodded. “Men aren’t reliably patient. Eventually they’ll let their guard down, thinking you can’t fight them. Jane use to say a woman’s feminine wiles were her greatest strength when paired with brains and the will to survive. A woman could destroy an army with the bat of an eyelash and a seductive smile.”
She gave them both an incredulous look. “I find it hard to believe something like batting an eyelash or smiling would make much difference.”
Mic shook his head. “Tell that to Cleopatra’s lovers.”
Lillian was a tough, smart woman but also innocent and unaware of her own power. She’d grown up in a world where women were told they were weak and powerless, assured that their male relatives or husbands would protect them and save them from folly. Right now he wished Abby or his mother was here to show her that women, while different than men, had their own strengths. All she needed was to learn to use the weapons she had to help her.
Maybe he’d made a mistake by insisting she learned to use weapons to protect herself. She didn’t need to learn to use the knife like Wade and himself, only enough to hurt those who might hurt her.
“What did Cleopatra do?” Lillian finally asked, like he knew she would when curiosity got the better of her.
“She nearly toppled the Roman Empire with her feminine wiles and cunning. She almost made it to Empress before she was thirty. But unfortunately, she backed the wrong lovers.”
“Exactly what did she do? What do you mean by ‘feminine wiles and cunning’? Is it just batting eyelashes and smiling because I don’t think that would have worked on you, Wade.”
“Probably not.” Mic nodded toward Wade’s slack arm. “But while we’ve been talking Wade’s pretty much released you. I wouldn’t suggest running. He’d only catch you. ”
She stepped away from Wade, a small frown forming on her brow. Mic wanted to kiss it away. “So what did Cleopatra do that was so impressive?”
Wade chuckled. “He doesn’t want to tell you because he doesn’t want you to use them on anyone except him.”
She glared at Mic and he thought she was probably thinking that he was being hard headed over something so simple. But she didn’t understand. Wade was right; he didn’t want her using the same trick on another man that she’d used that day they’d kissed in the bramble patch.
She groaned. “How am I supposed to get out of a bind if I find myself in one?”
Wade rolled his eyes. “Forgive me in advance for being blunt, Miss Lillian Christian, but men’s minds turn to mush when it comes to sexual things. The simple flash of an ankle. A woman’s too tight or too low cut shirt. The gentle touch of her hand in the right spots.” He looked at her pants with a pointed glance. “Wearing pants. The bat of lashes and a seductive smile. It’s all a sort of promise of things to come. Sexual things. It gets men hot and bothered. Like Mic has been since he kissed you. Do you understand what I’m sayin’?”
She glanced at her pants and looked at Mic and he knew he was in trouble. There was an all-too-familiar glint in her eye. “These pants get you hot and bothered?”
Mic could feel the flush start at the roots of his hair and travel to the tips of his toes. This so wasn’t a discussion he wanted to have with his brothers standing around. “Yes.”
“But they have mud all over them.”
“Oh for God’s sake, be blunt with her, Mic, or she’ll never get it,” Wade growled, but the small smile said he knew she was teasing him.
Mic flushed even hotter. “I don’t think this is helping any.”
“I don’t see what harm these pants do.” She turned to Wade. “Besides, he gave them to me to wear.”
“Yes, but only after our mother’s dresses and after he thought you needed to learn to protect yourself.” Wade nudged her with his shoulder. “Truthfully, I don’t think he wanted to see you in them because he knew it would get him hitched before the month was up. A little marriage shy.”
Mic was going to kill him. “I think we need to get back to practice.”
“See if you ever get taken by the enemy, Lil’, Mic’s the kind you want. They’re not mean enough. They’re like clay in your hand. Act like a mouse and they’ll feel bad for you. Then you can mold and shape them into whatever you’d like. ”
She looked at Mic and smiled. “You really find me that attractive?”
He glanced at her. Attractive? He found her beautiful with her liquid green eyes, milky white complexion with its hint of pink from the sun. Her long, straight limbs and height that made him feel less of a giant. Her lithe frame and pert breasts that at this moment pressed insistently against the too tight shirt and the vest that molded around them, offering them upward.
He grabbed her around the waist, pulling her a little too roughly against him, pressing her soft body tightly to his. He kissed her thoroughly. His tongue swept into her open mouth, tasting her completely, devouring her. Her hands crept around his neck, her fingers brushing through his hair, and he shivered, reluctant to pull away. “More then you can imagine,” he said against her lips, before kissing her again.
Someone cleared his throat. “So when’s the wedding?” Jeremiah asked.
Lillian turned, her eyes widening. Wade grinned at the giant. And Mic wanted to sink into the ground. Could this get any worse?
She shrugged. “I suppose that depends on when we can get to a church or preacher’s house.”
Mic and Wade exchanged looks that said it all. This conversation wouldn’t end well.
Jeremiah tugged on his beard, hiding the grin. “Then you’re in luck. The preacher just came to you.”
“You’re kidding?” She frowned and looked around. “Where?”
“Why would you say such a hurtful thing?” Jeremiah asked.
“Why? What’s so hurtful about it?” She glanced at Mic and Wade who looked as if he were going to laugh again. Her eyes grew wide in understanding and she whipped around to stare at Jeremiah as if he’d suddenly become one of God’s heavenly angels. “You’re really a preacher?”
“Yes, ma’am. Given to the Lord at the age of sixteen when I was too stupid to know better.”