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Sadness, especially the anticipation of loneliness, crept into me as I imagined Duncan leaving.

With my sons gone, it was hard not to feel like everyone in my life was abandoning me.

Further, with Sylvan Serenity up for sale, I was on the verge of losing my home and my job of more than two decades too.

“I’d intended to try to poke you with this sword,” Duncan said, his practice blade raised, “but you look so glum that it would be like beating a puppy.”

“At least you didn’t compare me to a granny with a cane.” I shot Yuto a dark look, but he was engrossed in looking for dates on a phone app and didn’t acknowledge the comment. Shaking away my gloomy thoughts, I dropped into a fighting stance. “Come at me, big boy.”

“Hah.” Duncan swung toward my head, slowly enough that I not only had time to parry but employed the correct technique in doing so.

He nodded, swinging again, and I realized he was merely helping me train. This wouldn’t involve a sound thumping. Or so I thought. Once Duncan determined that I could parry the easy blows, he picked up his speed and started throwing in two- and three-move combinations.

I concentrated, wanting to show the person who’d paid for my lessons that he hadn’t wasted his money. Once we got that sword back, I would be a force to be reckoned with, whether I was furry or not. Someone had to boot the criminal element out of Shoreline.

Yuto wandered out into the parking lot to greet someone who’d pulled up in a minivan.

“Alone at last,” Duncan said, amusement in his eyes.

“Just the way you want things with me?”

“Yup.”

After parrying numerous attacks, I took the offensive and sent a few probing stabs in his direction.

Duncan’s technique was much different from Yuto’s—he’d probably learned a European knightly way of fighting instead of being influenced by the Asian martial arts, but he didn’t have any trouble deflecting my blows.

Soon, we were alternating back and forth, and I appreciated the challenge, though I hadn’t gotten as much rest as I might have liked and was soon panting, my hair damp, my shirt clinging to my torso.

Duncan wasn’t breathing heavily, the bastard, though sweat did glisten on his chest. It nicely highlighted his muscles.

The easy athleticism of his movements and the way they flexed and shifted was a touch mesmerizing.

I would never admit it aloud, but his shirtless state could be distracting to female opponents. Too bad we couldn’t…

Or could we?

The scar on Duncan’s forehead hadn’t glowed since the night I’d destroyed the control device that had been linked to it.

If there was no danger of an enemy using magic to manipulate him—to force him to turn on me—couldn’t I trust him enough to invite him into my bedroom?

To be with him physically? To run my fingers along his strong jaw, brushing the three days’ worth of beard growth that accented it, to touch my lips to his…

Unaware of the direction my thoughts had turned, Duncan pressed me.

He picked up speed and launched a series of blows toward my head and chest. Though I managed to parry them, I caught myself backpedaling until my shoulder blades thumped against the wall.

Caught without room to maneuver, I stabbed toward his chest, hoping to force him back.

He not only deflected my practice sword but caught my wrist and pressed it against the wall. I attempted to twist it to free myself, but his strength was greater than mine. And I… might not have wanted to escape. Especially when he leaned in close, his chest pressing against mine.

“Your allure has captured me, my lady.” His gaze snagged on my lips.

“I believe I’m the one who’s been captured.” I looked pointedly at my trapped wrist.

“Do you mind?”

“Not as much as I should.”

“Good.” Duncan shifted closer, his lips finding mine.

They were hungry and demanding, as if he’d wanted this for a long time. That made me feel sexy and desirable—and not old , damn it. I was in the prime of my life. And Duncan wanted me.

His fingers loosened around my wrist, and I dropped the sword, eager to wrap my arms around his shoulders.

I kissed him back, my lips just as hard and hungry as I tasted his masculine appeal, the salt of our sweat, the mingled heat of our desire.

By the moon, I did want to invite him to my bedroom. Why had we waited so long? Why?—

A phone rang. Mine. I didn’t want to answer it, but a car door also slammed in the parking lot, a reminder that seven-year-olds in karate uniforms would soon wander into the dojo.

Reluctantly, I released Duncan’s shoulders and patted him on the chest. He sighed, leaning back with equal reluctance. The passion burning in his brown eyes promised that he didn’t want to release me. But he let me squirm out of his embrace, and I headed to the bench that held my belongings.

“Are you expecting an important call?” he asked.

“I’m expecting tart comments from my instructor if his grade-school students find us making out in the dojo.”

“With your hand on my ass?”

“My hand wasn’t there.”

“It would have been.” He grinned.

“So cocky and sure of yourself.” I picked up the phone to see who had called.

Bolin. He was still at the apartment complex. I dialed him back.

“Is that a feature or a flaw?” Duncan grabbed his shirt but sat without putting it on, either to wait for his skin to dry or because he believed I preferred the display.

“Probably both. Hi, Bolin,” I said as soon as he picked up. “What’s up?”

“Uh, are you okay?”

Maybe a bit breathless, but… “Yeah. I’ve been working out.”

Technically true. Duncan grinned again.

“Okay. Well, I thought you’d want to know right away…”

My bedroom thoughts evaporated as my stomach sank with the certainty of what he would say before he said it.

“There are a couple of serious buyers here at the complex. They’re getting a tour, but they already said they’re going to put in an offer. If it’s as good as they’re implying, I think my parents will accept it.”

I sank down onto the bench as my earlier dark thoughts returned. I was about to lose my job and my home.