Layleen
"Fighting is not only about physical strength," I hear Ragnar speak again. He was probably tired of my silence, though he must have seen something flesh in my expression if he decided to get directly to the point.
He takes another step toward me, and my body automatically recoils, even though I know he wouldn't hurt me. "It's about agility. Speed. Reflexes. Instincts."
He locks his burning eyes on mine, and I can practically feel something ignite inside me under his intense scrutiny. He challenges me, and whatever lives inside me really wants to accept that challenge.
The corners of Ragnar's lips twitch ever so slightly, and I instantly notice the tension spreading across his body.
His posture straightens, but his muscles bulge, and now, I can clearly see them outlined under his tight black shirt.
I swallow hard, and something within me nearly whimpers. What exactly is going on with me? Why do I feel so strange every time I see him next to me?
