“Getting between me and my coffee is dangerous,” I warned him. “And there’s no way I’m in any shape for another lesson today.”

I tried to push past him but, surprise, surprise, he didn’t let me. I wondered if his shield spell was up yet or if a strategically placed knee or elbow would actually hurt him.

“Don’t even think about it,” he said, and I felt the heat creep into my cheeks. Apparently, I’d been pretty transparent.

“Think about what?” I asked, but he just looked down his nose at me. “You know, I’m not in the army, and you’re not my commanding officer. I don’t have to have a lesson if I don’t want to.”

He cocked his head to one side, his face a mask of exaggerated curiosity as he stroked his chin. I saw he’d painted his nails black today—just in case I hadn’t noticed he was wicked Fae Goth boy, I suppose. “Is it that you think you’ve already learned everything you need to know, or that you think you’re out of danger today?”

“I can see why you opted out of Knight training,” I countered. “They’d have ‘accidentally’ killed you before you made it to adulthood.”

His expression and his body language didn’t change all that much, but it was enough to tell me I’d drawn blood. His eyes hardened, and a muscle ticked in his jaw. I should have been thrilled at my victory, but I’m just not that mean-spirited.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Just because you’re an asshole doesn’t mean I have to be a bitch.” Perhaps not the most wholehearted of apologies, but his expression thawed.

“I expect you to fight back with any available weapon,” he told me, and I saw something strangely like approval in his eyes. “If I attack you with words, then it’s only fair you counter with words.”

He smiled at me crookedly, and something inside me warmed. I’m pretty sure I was blushing as I turned away from him and put the kettle on the stove.

I should have known better than to turn my back on him. As I was reaching to turn the stove on—I didn’t care what he said, he was not keeping me from my coffee—he suddenly grabbed me from behind. I tried to counter with my elbows, just as he’d taught me, but he’d caught me by surprise, and I was too slow.

Keane whirled me around and bent down, grabbing me around the thighs and hoisting me easily over his shoulder. He clamped his arm over my calves, pinning my legs to his body so I couldn’t kick. From this position, there wasn’t much I could reach that was terribly vulnerable—not with any leverage, that is. I might have been able to reach his privates if I really stretched, but no way I was grabbing him there, no matter how effective it might be.

I reached up and tried to dig my fingers into his throat, but the position was too awkward, and he grabbed my hand with his free hand, pinning me even more securely as he carried me out of the kitchen. I raised my head and cast an appealing glance at Finn as we went by.

“Please call off your dog,” I said, but Finn held up his hands in a gesture of helplessness.

“I had to agree not to interfere or he’d have refused to come.”

“And that would have been a bad thing?” I asked, but we had already reached the spiral staircase, and I wasn’t sure Finn could hear me.

Keane carried me to the horse stall, the floor of which was covered with mats. He then slung me off his shoulder.

I’d expected him to put me down, not throw me down. Even with the mats, the impact with the floor knocked the breath out of me. I lay there, dazed, for a moment while Keane towered over me.

“Next time, put your arms out like this.” He demonstrated, holding his arms out to the side with his palms facing back. “Then slap your hands down when you hit to dissipate some of the force. If I’d been a bad guy, you’d be in deep shit right now.”

I sucked in a breath of air. “I’m really beginning to hate you,” I said.

“Glad to hear it,” he replied with a cocky smile. “Now why didn’t you go for my balls when I slung you over my shoulder? I let you hang low enough to have a shot.”

I pushed myself up to a sitting position, ducking my head to hide the blush I was sure colored my cheeks. “Only in your wildest dreams am I touching you there,” I grumbled.

He laughed and offered me a hand up. I decided to ignore it, figuring it was a trick of some sort. My muscles groaned in protest as I hauled myself to my feet. They hadn’t felt too good before Keane had slammed me into the mats.

“If a bad guy grabs you, are you going to be too prudish to touch him there if that’s your best chance to get away?” he asked.

My cheeks burning brightly, I managed to meet his stunning green eyes. “Touching a stranger is one thing. Touching someone I’m going to have to look in the eye afterward is another.” I jutted my chin out and gave him my most stubborn look. He’d pushed me into doing things I wasn’t comfortable doing, but he wasn’t going to push me into that.

Keane thought about it for a minute, looking displeased. Then he nodded. “All right. I suppose I can see your point. Now, let’s work on how to escape various holds, using the tools I taught you yesterday.”

It was a weird morning. Since Keane was teaching me how to escape holds, it meant he was constantly grabbing me, holding me against his body. He was an asshole, but he was one hell of a sexy asshole, and I couldn’t help being aware of it when his hands were on me. He moved with lethal grace, and the intensity in his eyes said he loved what he was doing—whether because he loved teaching, or because he loved fighting, or because he just liked beating me up I wasn’t sure.