Love is a Battlefield: Games of Love, Book 1 (26 page)

“One might argue that, if one hadn’t practically begged me to join her,” Julian replied, matching her mocking tone with one of his own.

They both looked up at the sound of a splash. Kilroy had stripped off his shirt and jumped into the river, dipping his head in the water and whipping his hair around like he was in a shampoo commercial. Kate sighed—a sound Julian wished was accompanied by an expression, because he couldn’t tell if she was as irritated as he was, or if she was doing the adult equivalent of drawing Kilroy’s name in her notebook with little hearts and swirls.

“Shall we?” Kilroy held out a hand, which Kate stared at for a brief moment before taking off her shoes and socks and joining him in the water. Goose bumps broke out on her legs and arms, and it was all Julian could do to keep his gaze on the flow of the water and not travel right to her chest, to see how well the rest of her body responded to the cold.

He shed his own footwear and stepped into the water up to his calves. His legs contracted with the sudden change in temperature, but he welcomed the sensation all the same. It was something solid and concrete to take his attention away from the fact that Kilroy was standing right behind Kate, his arms around her waist and their bodies close as he tried to demonstrate the slicing action it took to catch the fish.

“That’s not how you do it,” Julian grumbled.

That was another solid thing to concentrate on. The fact that Kilroy was an idiot.

Kilroy didn’t say a word—he simply took a few steps backward and cracked his knuckles. With one swift karate-chop action, his hand hit the water’s surface with almost no splash before rising up again just as fast. Julian had to admit it—he half thought the bastard would come back up with some wriggling, slimy fish, which he would then toss to the bank before catching so many more he’d put Jesus’s multiplication skills to shame. But there was nothing but a few drops of water and a low curse.

Julian laughed and took a few steps forward, scanning the water for signs of life. A few flashes of silver indicated it might not be impossible to catch something after all, though he’d be damned if he’d try to duplicate Kilroy’s attempts. Patience and perseverance—those were the keys to taming any part of nature, whether animal, mineral or human. All he had to do was stay strong and silent, and the prey would come to him.

“Do you honestly think it’s going to swim right into your hand?” Kate asked, watching him with interest.

Julian laughed. “This is how it’s really done outside of Hollywood. If you can get the fish stuck next to a rock and reach under its stomach, giving it a little rub makes it all dazed and adoring. Like cats.” He grinned. “Or women.”

“Oh, you’re such a connoisseur of all things masterful, aren’t you? Fifty bucks says Duke can catch a fish before you.”

Kilroy heard the boast and swelled accordingly. “Double it, Kate. I almost had one of the little suckers.”

“You hear that? The man wants us to make it one hundred—unless you’re afraid, Julian?”

Julian felt the nibble of a fish on his forefinger, but he didn’t move. So quietly it was almost a whisper, he said, “Care to make it
really
interesting?”

A flicker of color in her eyes indicated Kate knew exactly what he meant. They could play for Cornwall Park. They could play for victory.

“Done.”

With a huge kicking splash at him, she got out of the water, taking any of his chances with the fish along with her. Julian couldn’t help but acknowledge the blow with a smile. She wasn’t one to make winning easy—though she was damn good at making it fun.

Although Julian was acutely aware of Kate seated on a large, flat rock near the path’s entrance, sunning herself like a turtle, he focused all of his attention on the water. He moved to stand several yards upriver from Kilroy and his ridiculous slicing movements, squatting into a crouching position to keep as close as possible to the shallow bottom along the edge of the river. The lowering sun beat down on his back, an odd sensation next to his nearly numb lower half, but the warring sensations felt right for the situation. Kate and Kilroy. Kate and
him
. Julian couldn’t help but feel that her journey down to the water’s edge with his nemesis was all part of a show designed to irritate him.

It was working.

“Did we remember to bring flashlights?” Kate called.

It might have been a few minutes later, or it might have been an hour—Julian had been so intent on the movements of the fish that he lost all sense of time. When he turned to the sound of her voice, he noticed the sun had made considerable headway through the sky.

“I didn’t bring any,” Julian admitted. “Maybe Kilroy and his people have a solution for that too.”

“Very funny.” Kilroy stomped out of the water, obviously giving up for the day.

Julian was about to join him when felt a tickle on his big toe. Looking down, he noticed a fish exploring the rocks at his feet. He didn’t move, didn’t bother even to breathe. He crouched down as silently as he could, his hand making almost no splash as it entered the water.

With the flick of his wrist, he shot out his fingers, not exactly gripping the animal but getting far enough underneath it so that it flew a few inches out of the water.
He had it.

But it promptly fell back in and swam away as fast as its fins would go.

Kate laughed from the riverbank, where she’d watched the entire attempt. “I’m glad I don’t have to depend on either one of you to be my provider. We’d have all starved about five days ago.”

Kilroy grumbled, but Julian gave a good-natured shrug and climbed back on to the bank. “I’ll have you know I’m exceptional at making grilled cheese sandwiches.”

“So, what now?” Kate asked, looking back and forth between the two of them. Fortunately, Kilroy had put his shirt back on, leveling the score between them. “No fish means no dinner—and no one wins the bet. I’m disappointed in you both.”

“Next time, Kate. I promise.” Kilroy reached over and patted her head. It looked awkward and forced. Even Kate thought so—Julian could tell by the way her eyes met his and crinkled around the edges, laughter tugging at her lips.

“Technically, you should have to participate in your own bet,” Julian pointed out. He couldn’t tell if they were joking or seriously discussing a solution for their problem. Either way, he was game. There wasn’t an activity on this planet he wouldn’t love going head-to-head with that woman over. “We should think of something else.”

Her eyes narrowed. “Like what?”

Kilroy shifted and sighed. “What are you two talking about?”

“We’re determining who’s the better man,” Kate said. She looked around as if searching for inspiration. “But it can’t be strength-related, because that’s not fair.”

“And I don’t do trivia,” Julian added.

Kate grinned. “Eating contests are definitely out.”

Julian laughed, and he used the moment to draw closer to her. His voice low, he added, “I can think of one thing we’re both pretty good at.”

She caught his meaning, her face diffusing with color. That was a challenge he could promise not to back down from. For a long time.

“Are we ready to head back up, Kate?” Kilroy interrupted, checking his watch with poorly concealed irritation. He hadn’t heard that last part.

“I’ll walk her home,” Julian announced. Both Kate and Kilroy looked like they wanted to fight him on the issue, but he stood taller and crossed his arms over his chest. He wasn’t going anywhere. Maybe he hadn’t been able to catch a fish with his bare hands, but he knew what kinds of things he was capable of mastering. Kate was one of them.

She had to be. He didn’t know how much longer he could keep this up without doing something about the way she made him feel—like he was powerful and powerless at the same time. Like he wanted to fight with everything he had and give up everything that mattered just to feel her body next to his.

They both must have sensed how willing he was to back up his words, because Kilroy turned with a muttered curse, offering one last time to take Kate back up to camp. She shook her head wordlessly, not drawing any closer to Julian but not pulling away either.

It was a small victory but one he was happy to accept.

“What’s your big plan?” Kate asked as soon as Kilroy crept off into the distance. “You ruined my date, you have no fish to offer for dinner and it looks to me like you still aren’t willing to accept Duke’s offer. How is this any different from where we were last week?”

Julian sat on a large, flat rock, big enough to hold the two of them, and gestured for her to join him. She did, though perched so far from him it hardly counted.

“I totally could have had that fish,” he said, ignoring the question. This was Truce Rock. He wouldn’t say or do anything to piss her off while they remained on it. They could at least have this moment. “Five more minutes and I was there.”

She let out an exasperated noise, almost like a kitten’s cry. “That’s hardly the point here, is it?”

“And what is the point?”

She moved closer and nudged him with her hip. “You’re stubborn and annoying.”

“This is true.” He’d been called a hell of a lot worse in his lifetime, and there was just enough playfulness in her voice to make him feel like he’d just been complimented. “But I’m stubborn and annoying, and you’re still here. What does that make you?”

The tight smile she offered him was unreadable. She could have been hiding a huge grin. She could also have been stopping herself from saying something she might regret. Julian’s ability to discern the difference disappeared the moment one of her hands reached up and traced the outline of his tattoo where it peeked out from under his sleeve.

“You’re also a bit of a mystery,” she said, ignoring his question. “What does your tattoo mean?”

Lots of people showed an interest in his tattoo. Few cared to hear what it actually meant to him, and it was a subject on which he would have gladly spoken for hours. Especially if Kate kept moving her finger over his skin while he did it. Her touch was feather-light and brought with it a prickling sensation that did strange things to his concentration.

“It’s a traditional Micronesian thing,” he explained, his voice low to keep it from faltering. “Each part of it represents some of my heritage and beliefs. Like right there, up higher on my shoulder, you can see the coconut leaves. Those are for warrior strength. The
latte
stone in the middle is shaped like a rook, since I’ve always loved chess. Here at the bottom, there’s a band of alternating squares and lines—that one is a protection against danger.”

Her lips quirked even as her hand continued exploring. “What kind of danger could you possibly need protecting from?”

He grabbed her pointer finger and stilled it. “The kind of danger that looks like you.”

Color rushed into her face, and she pulled away, her words stilted as she tried to cover her sudden discomfiture. “So, which is more important to you? The Scottish warrior or the Chamorro warrior?”

It was a good question. Normally, he’d offer a flippant reply, boasting of just how strong they both were, battling inside him in a constant quest for supremacy. But he didn’t feel very strong at that moment, so he was betrayed into telling Kate the truth.

“Sometimes I think I hide behind them both. Sometimes I think I’m afraid to just be me.”

She leaned in and pressed her lips against his upper arm, right where the protective band formed the base. The soft and almost innocent sensation of her mouth on his skin erased any abilities the band might have had to save him. Protection, his ass. He’d never been so defenseless in his life.

“What about yours?” he asked, changing the subject and pointing at her foot. The boots covered everything, but he remembered the fluffy little sheep that peeked up through all her strappy shoes.

She shrugged. “It’s nothing. A dare. Jada dragged me to the tattoo shop and bet me I wouldn’t do it. So I did.”

“You sure don’t back down from challenges, do you?”

“No, it’s not that at all,” she insisted, shaking her head. “It was more like I didn’t have the courage to do it on my own or the strength to say no.”

That wasn’t true.
Julian had taken Kate’s measure almost from the start, when they’d first met about half a mile straight up that cliff side. She had courage. She had strength. It was what he liked about her.

It was also what made it so hard for him to shift the conversation back into non-neutral territory.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes. Does that count as your question?”

“Nice try, Kate.” He shifted so he was facing her. Her hair was pulled up in a serviceable ponytail, but a few tendrils had sprung free, framing her face and making her appear much younger than she really was. They made her look vulnerable too—a sentiment Julian was rapidly coming to share. It was all he could do not to brush her hair away, kiss every freckle on the slight tip of her nose. He needed to get all his faculties in place, not wound up in the intoxicating presence of her. “I was actually wondering… Do you think it’s possible for two people to enjoy each other’s company even when they’re fighting on opposite sides?”

“Possible, yes. A good idea?” She took a deep breath. “I’m not so sure.”

“You speak from experience?”