The Gender Game by Bella Forrest (historical books to read txt) 📗

of me. "All right," he said, the corners of his mouth twitching in a half smile. He raised a daring brow. "We've got ten minutes. Have at me."

A rush ran through my body as I clenched my fists. Although he wouldn’t see me eye to eye, Viggo was still a dream sparring partner. I had been one of the toughest girls in my defense classes; a lot of the other girls couldn't take blows as hard as I could throw them and I'd often ended up partnered with Ms. Dale for that reason. But with Viggo… I didn't have to hold back. He could take anything I threw at him. Plus, I didn’t have any facial hair to worry about keeping in place.

I approached him, aiming my first swipe at his right palm, which was rock hard. But the contact felt good. Like scratching an itch. I threw a punch at his left palm, then right again, before moving on to a kicking combination. As my right foot rose to his stomach, he blocked it—firmly enough that I didn't reach him, but not hard enough to cause a bruise.

When I moved to punch him again, he surprised me by catching my wrist. He spun me around, my back against his chest, where he held me in a firm lock. I hadn't expected him to elevate the game. I supposed this was as close as he was going to get in treating me equally in terms of fighting.

Having been trained to get out of this kind of hold before, my next move was wired in my brain. It came as mere instinct for my right leg to slip backward and jerk forward. I caught him at the back of his right knee. He hadn't been expecting that, either. He lost balance, causing the two of us to tumble to the floor. I quickly scrambled to gain an advantage while he lay on his back. Gripping his arms and pressing them hard against the floor, I straddled his hips. I leaned over, my face leveling with his. As our eyes met, we both broke out in a tense laugh.

"Surrender?" I asked him.

I felt his stomach muscles tauten against my thighs. He narrowed his eyes. "Is that what you think this is?"

I didn't get a chance to respond, or see what he'd do next, as a sharp rapping at the door brought reality spiraling back.

Viggo cursed. I leapt off him and he stood up just in time before the door swung open.

Being in Patrus, there wouldn't have been an awful lot of ways a married woman and an unmarried man could have explained that position.

Catching my breath, I smoothed down my top and tried to pretend I'd just risen from the bench when a white-haired man poked his head through the doorway. Surprise registered in his eyes on seeing me here, but he quickly focused on Viggo.

"You're on in twenty-five minutes," he said.

"Yes, I know," Viggo said tightly. I could see he was trying to steady his breathing too. And was there a slight flush to his cheeks? It felt like there might be to mine.

"Good, good." With one last glance toward me, the man backed out of the room.

My cheeks definitely heated as Viggo and I were left alone again. That had been close. I coughed my throat clear and sat back down on the bench. Viggo didn't start punching the bag again. Avoiding eye contact, he moved into the bathroom, where he splashed his face with water and stood in front of the mirror for a while. Then he returned to the room and paced up and down.

I watched him while his focus was on the floor and wondered whether nerves ever bothered a man like Viggo Croft after all the fights he had experienced.

"Have you ever lost a fight?" I asked him. That might not have been the most sensitive question to ask a fighter minutes before he was due to step inside the cage, but Viggo didn't strike me as the superstitious type.

He shook his head.

A grin returned to my face. "Then let's not make tonight a first."

Finally, he looked at me again. His expression was dark, though I sensed a smile hiding somewhere behind it. "I don't intend to."

The next few minutes slipped through our fingers like sand. A round of boos echoed down the corridor. Viggo's opponent must have entered the arena. And then the elderly man was at the door again.

"Time to roll!" he announced excitedly.

I stood up and followed Viggo and the man out of the room. Viggo was my guardian, and even though he'd be in the cage, I was supposed to follow him as closely as possible. When we headed down the corridor, however, and reached the wide-open door to the arena, I had to hang back with the elderly man while Viggo stepped into the spotlight. The audience exploded. I caught Viggo drawing in a light breath before stalking down the aisle. The spotlight followed him, and I was able to move closer to the darkened doorway without worrying about being spotted. Viggo climbed into the cage opposite his opponent—a guy with ebony skin and cropped black hair. Going by appearance alone, they looked a very even match, Viggo perhaps slightly at a disadvantage—his opponent was a little taller.

"May I ask who you are, ma'am?" the white-haired man, who was still standing opposite me by the doorway, asked.

"Mrs. Bertrand," I replied quickly, my eyes reverting to the fight. I didn't want to miss any of it.

"Oh, I see. And how do you know Viggo?"

"My husband appointed him as my second guardian."

The man stopped talking to me after that. My spine tingled as the Deepvox man announced the start of the fight. His voice was almost drowned out by the cheering crowd.

I wished that I could get closer as the two men began to circle each other. I was still worrying about Cad or his parents spotting me. The chances that they'd be