“Come on, Kovacs.” He flicked his wrists, motioning to himself. “I know you want it. You can play the uptight prude all you want, but I know how you enjoy it. Know how easy those legs open.”
Hanna, the closest I had to a girlfriend, inhaled with shock, her mouth dropping open. Shit. If it wasn’t humiliating enough that I’d ever allowed this piece of crap to touch me, now everyone in this room knew. They stared at me with disbelief and repulsion, and my cheeks heated with shame. I knew they thought I was stuck-up and prudish, not imagining I could possibly have slept with Aron of all people. Especially with how much I clearly hated him.
Turn your weakness and embarrassment into your favor, I told myself, trying to push away the stunned faces of my comrades.
Taking a step closer to Aron, my lips curled in a heated smile. He stood there, watching me, his eyes widening with lust.
“Honestly, you were so incompetent in bed, I’d be surprised if you can even get yourself off.” My voice went low and husky.
There was a beat.
“Oooohhhh, dammmnnn!” A few guys laughed, covering their mouths in shock.
Aron’s head jerked back, his lids narrowing, nose flaring. “You bitch!” he sneered, leaping for me. All emotion and no strategy.
Perfect.
Twisting my body, I snapped my elbow up, digging into his esophagus and knocking him back. Aron grabbed for his throat, stumbling back, hacking and gasping for air. I was taught never to let your opponent recover. It might be the only chance you have to live.
Spinning, I kicked out, jabbing at the tendon in his knee.
“Ah!” He cried out as my boot slammed into his chest, tossing him back on the mat. Jumping down, I pinned his arms with my knees, my elbow pressing into the soft curve of his neck. His expression pinched with pain while his eyes glared at me with rage, his lips curling in a snarl.
“You’re right, Horvát.” I leaned into him, digging in deeper. “You do know how I like it.”
“All right, Kovacs. That’s enough,” Bakos yelled to me.
I winked at Aron, withdrawing, basking in smugness as I stepped from the mat.
My self-satisfaction was suddenly clipped like bird wings, plummeting me back to earth with a painful crunch the next moment. Caden leaned against the door, which he did frequently, watching my class spar. He’d later give me pointers, working on moves with me. But this time, he was not grinning at me. His arms were folded, his expression taut and cold, but his brown eyes burned into me, ripping through my soul and peeling back my skin. His chest puffed in and out as he took in air.
There was no doubt. He heard everything.
His mouth pinched together, his head shaking slightly, and pain flashed in his eyes before he snapped his head away from me and turned, striding down the hall.
Drowning in guilt and sadness, I pitched forward, wanting to run after him. But years of training held me in place, going against my instinct to follow him. To explain.
Settling back in my place next to Hanna, I bit down on my lip, holding back the emotions trying to leap from my heart that wanted to make me say and do something stupid.
“Damn, girl,” Hanna whispered under her breath.
“He deserved it.”
“Aron always does,” she muttered, her head staying forward. “But that’s not what I was talking about.”
Oh. That. “It was a mistake.” My jaw clenched, my chin hitching up again as I watched another pair move to the mat. “Don’t want to talk about it.”
“Oh, we will definitely be talking about it at the party tonight.” She leaned in toward me.
Party?
Oh shit.
I had totally forgotten. Istvan enjoyed impressing people, being admired. The more noses up his ass, the happier he was. He threw parties all the time—galas, balls, festivals—to schmooze with the rich and powerful. There they made deals, forged alliances, and gained more influence and power.
Tonight was no different. General Markos wanted to greatly impress the Romanian leader. I had no idea why, but he kept reminding Caden and me about the importance of this night. Funny, I ended up completely forgetting about it. Again.
I wasn’t the kind of girl who enjoyed getting dressed up in torturous outfits and shoes, and I was rarely on my best behavior with stuffy, boring people. I’d rather be in my cargo pants and tank hanging out with Caden, drinking palinka straight from the bottle at our favorite spot.