Total pages in book: 87
Estimated words: 80373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80373 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 402(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 268(@300wpm)
Aiden lightly hit his sword against Ronan’s. “We shall see. On your guard, scoundrel.”
Ronan laughed again as he lifted his sword into the first position. They started slowly, trading a few light exchanges here and there as they felt each other out. A flood of memories washed over Aiden. He’d fought Ronan hundreds of times in practice when they’d been human. He’d known Ronan’s every move, technique, and weakness. And Ronan could say the same about him.
It didn’t take long to notice that Ronan was a shade faster now and lighter on his feet. When he’d been human, he’d tended to plant his feet and rely on his strength to break any opponent. He seemed to be a hair slower to react to attacks on his left side, but then, Ronan had always been a sneaky bastard. Aiden didn’t trust that his old friend wasn’t trying to lure him into a trap.
But he’d never uncover the truth if he didn’t poke at him.
Struggling to keep his expression clear, Aiden launched a brutal attack that Ronan deflected with ease, leaving Aiden overextended and battling to keep his friend at bay. Ronan laughed over the clatter of wooden swords clacking loudly against each other.
“I don’t remember you being so bold,” Ronan said. “You were always the conservative fighter, waiting for the fool to hand you an opening.”
“And I don’t remember you being such a timid fighter,” Aiden teased.
Ronan gave another playful gasp before launching a flurry of thrusts and blows. Aiden barely managed to fend them off as he laughed wildly at his friend. Ronan followed him closely around the room, finally backing Aiden into one of the large leather chairs. With a snicker, he rolled over the arm of the chair. This time, Ronan overextended and crashed face first into the chair.
Snickering, Aiden slapped Ronan’s ass with the flat of his sword and Ronan yelped.
“Hey! You said no climbing on the furniture!”
“I didn’t climb on it. I rolled across it,” Aiden pointed out.
Ronan shoved to his feet and thrust his free hand through his hair, pushing it from his face. “Oh. We’re going to play like that, are we?”
Aiden’s old friend launched a new attack, proving that he had been restraining himself in their sparring. He was faster and more dangerous than he had been in his youth. It was as if the man had lived with a sword in his hand since becoming a vampire. His new status as bloodsucker hadn’t changed his dedication to perfection with that weapon. Only Aiden’s swiftness saved him time and again.
There was no question that Aiden was living on borrowed time. Ronan was getting closer and closer to getting his number. The smile was gone from Ronan’s face. He was all stern concentration, his whole person turned toward catching Aiden at last. If Aiden wasn’t so determined to win himself, he would have admired his friend’s dedication.
Muscles twitched and burned with exhaustion. Sweat trickled down his temple. Aiden was in danger of slowing. He needed to beat Ronan now.
He attempted a feint, but Ronan was ready for him. He caught Aiden’s sword and held him trapped, swords crossed in front of them as Ronan stepped into him. Their chests brushed and Ronan’s smile returned.
“You’ve gotten faster,” Aiden said through clenched teeth.
“Learned it from you,” Ronan replied.
And then Ronan’s free hand gripped Aiden’s hip. Aiden’s ragged breath became trapped in his throat as that strong hand burned through his slacks, the touch so intimate.
“Ever notice how our swordplay is so like a dance?” Ronan observed.
Aiden licked his lips, trying to find his voice again, as he stared into deep midnight eyes that were somehow so familiar to him and yet so foreign. He could feel some of the tension slowly leave Ronan’s sword, allowing Aiden to relax. The fight was over, and this was becoming something else as he stood there. A cautious voice was demanding that he step away, put many feet of open air between them, but Aiden couldn’t get his body to move. Didn’t want to step out of Ronan’s touch.
“It can be,” he said roughly.
“Would you dance with me?”
Aiden blinked. Not what he’d expected from Ronan. He couldn’t remember ever seeing his friend dance with a woman. But to dance with him? “We never would have when we were human—”
“I mean right now. Would you dance with me right now?”
Aiden couldn’t speak. Luckily, he didn’t need to. Ronan carefully slid his wooden sword along Aiden’s until they were disengaged. He dropped his weapon with a muffled clatter on the carpet and just as cautiously caught Aiden’s free hand in his.
“Ronan,” Aiden breathed, hating how shaky his voice sounded to his own ears.
“Shh…I’ve got you. It’s just a dance.” There was a quiet confidence to Ronan’s voice Aiden had never heard before. The man he’d known was all cocky and bombastic enthusiasm. This new, self-assured man was even more dangerous than he’d expected. Maybe that was why he couldn’t get himself to release his death grip on the wooden handle of the sword even after Ronan wrapped his hand around Aiden’s and started them slowly swaying.