Her head yanked in his direction just as the other man’s sword flew. Directly at her exposed neck.

Caelen thrust his sword forward to deflect the blow, and Rionna’s eyes widened as the tip of her sparring partner’s blade stopped within an inch of her flesh.

With a flick of his wrist, Caelen knocked the sword from her opponent’s hand and sent him a look that had him backing away in a hurry.

If he expected his wife to be frightened, abashed, or grateful that he’d prevented her death, he was wrong.

She was bloody furious.

Her eyes sparking with demonic light in the glow of the torches, she turned on him, reminding him of a spitting kitten. The comparison would probably only make her angrier, but it was an amusing enough thought.

“What did you think you were doing?” she yelled. “You could have gotten me killed! You don’t bellow at someone when they’re sparring!”

His nostrils flared and he advanced on her, furious that she’d address him thusly in front of others.

“Think you that distractions don’t exist on the battlefield, Rionna? Think you that no one will ever shout at you? A warrior is strong, not just physically but in the mind as well. Allowing yourself to become distracted during battle will get you killed.”

She flushed and looked away, her sword lowered toward her feet.

“Nor do you ever lower your sword. You’re now completely vulnerable to attack.”

Her lips twisted in anger. “You’ve made your point, husband.”

“Have I? I think not. I’m only about to begin to make my point. You will take yourself inside at once. You’ll not indulge in such activities again. Do I make myself clear?”

Her mouth dropped open and those golden eyes flashed with rage—and humiliation.

“When you present yourself to the table to break your fast, you’ll do so as a credit to the McCabe clan, and you’ll show respect due the king and the laird of this clan.”

Her lips snapped shut and formed a mutinous frown. He took another step forward until there was no space separating them. He’d never admit it, in a thousand years, but the sight and smell of her, all disheveled from swordplay, had his cock about to split at the seams.

He couldn’t have her running about in this manner of dress or doing battle with the men because he’d be naught but a walking erection.

He waved a hand to dismiss her and to let her know she was dismissed. As she turned away, he called after her.

“Oh, and Rionna? Take a bath. You stink.”

CHAPTER 3

Chapter 4