Beneath the Scars (Masters of the Shadowlands #13)(55)

“Got it.” The one with the sword was obviously female, but her hair was cropped short. Holt glanced at Josie. “The hairstyle seems…off…for that time period.”

“She ran away from an arranged marriage. Everyone thinks she’s a boy.”

“Ah. Good for her.”

His comment won him smiles from both Josie and Stella.

He saw Stella had put two male dolls with the two females. “Is there a love story going on as well as fighting?”

Carson snorted. “They’re too smart for that.”

With a light laugh, Josie told Holt, “No romance. I don’t believe in it.”

Holt’s smile faded. She didn’t believe in romance, so her son was growing up thinking love was for idiots.

Shaking her head, Stella said, “Not all romances end badly, my dear.”

“Maybe not for men,” she said under her breath, then winced and looked at him. “Sorry.”

Holt leaned back in his chair, watching her thoughtfully. She had trust issues. Considering she’d had a teenage pregnancy and her lover’d turned out to be a bastard, he could understand why. Trouble was, the longer he knew her, the more he liked her.

The more he wanted her for his own.

How could he not? She was submissive—so the Dom in him was happy. She was fun with a sense of humor that was never cruel, just quirky. He’d probably laughed more this evening than he had in a long, long time. He’d enjoyed simply putting up Christmas lights and arguing over whether Star Trek or Star Wars had the better technology. Jesus, she liked fantasy and sci-fi—how could he help but like her?

Most of all, she had a caring heart.

The question wasn’t whether he wanted her, because he did. Now he just had to help her see that romance wasn’t inevitably bad.

And that her anxieties were affecting her son’s outlook on life.

“Holt can be the bad guys.” Carson pushed over a box of horses, wolves, elephants and oversized…somethings.

Holt held up one ugly-ass doll. “What is this?”

“Ogres. That box also has trolls.” Josie picked out more dolls. “Tonight, the team is taking on the reptilian race of Grestors. And they have a troll with them.”

She described the talents of her young team. The heroine, Laurent, could ignite her hands and throw the flames short distances. The thought made the firefighter in him wince. The hero, Tigre, was a knife-fighting ninja type who could become invisible.

Interesting. When he got home, he’d boot up his eReader and pick up her first book. Why should kids get to read all the good stories?

Josie waved at the table. “The neighboring country is softening our land up for war, and the team has been sent out with a teacher to defend a border village.”

“Aren’t they rather young?” Holt frowned. Children shouldn’t be going to war.

“Even in our history, a squire was usually around fourteen years old and often went into battle to guard his knight’s back.” Josie gave him an understanding smile. “At eleven, Carson would’ve been serving as a page, working his way up to squire.”

Carson grinned at the thought.

Holt didn’t. “Hard times.”

“Exactly. When there’s a need, children grow up fast. Our team will do their best, no matter how frightened they are.”

Holt gave her an understanding nod. “Heroes in heart as well as skills.”

“The world needs heroes, and our children today need role models,” Stella murmured. “Courage and self-sacrifice. Honesty and integrity.”

Josie shot her a smile. “All of that—and learning to work together.” She checked her notes. “Carson, if you’ll take the two boys. Oma, the girls. Holt, you get the bloodthirsty Grestors and the troll.”

Bowls provided boulders for protection—and a way to jump down on the bad guys. Holt lost two reptile-men to the damn knife-boy. Josie stopped the action occasionally, reworking the choreography to be trickier. She redid one mini-fight to force the air mage and the knife boy to work together. Carson got infuriated when Holt’s troll hurt a wolf the animal mage had called in.

In the end, Holt managed to save a few of his Grestors. As they ran for the edge of the table, he turned his leader around and shouted, using an Arnold accent, “I’ll be back. You wait. I’ll cut off your nose next time.”

Carson burst out laughing, and Stella sent a lightning bolt—a gummi worm—after Holt’s guys. For all her church attending, the woman had a vicious streak.

After giving Stella a disapproving frown that made her grin, Holt ate the gummi worm and eyed the other woman at the table. Josie. There was so much more to her than met the eye. An author, one who was trying to improve the world with her stories. One who let her family help and cheered them on in the battle.

She really was amazing.

Grinning at him, she asked, “What do you think?”

“You may call on me anytime you need assistance in destroying the world, sweetie.” He winked at Carson. “It’s my duty to help.” And his duty to help get the sweet author past her aversion to romance as well.

Because he fully intended to sweep her off her feet and into his arms.

And keep her there.





Chapter Eleven