She huffed, though she did as he instructed.
His hands guided her again, one at her shoulder, the other briefly at her waist, shifting her balance with quiet precision. The contact sent an unwanted awareness through her, sharp and immediate, her body responding before her mind could intervene.
Too close.
Far too close.
“Ye are doing that on purpose,” she muttered.
“Doing what?”
“Standing so near.”
“If I stood any farther, ye would fall over before ye learned anything.”
“I wouldnae.”
“Aye,” he said calmly, “ye would.”
She turned her head to argue further, only to find him closer than she had realized.
The space between them narrowed to something fragile.
Her breath caught.
Of course, he noticed.
She watched as his gaze dropped, just slightly, not to her eyes this time, but to her mouth.
Warmth climbed her throat, her pulse shifting into something uneven and far too fast.
This is a mistake.
And yet she did not step back.
“Focus,” he said quietly, though the word lacked its earlier firmness.
“I am,” she replied, though her mind continued the thought.Not at all.
His hand remained at her waist, steady, grounding, while the other adjusted her wrist, guiding the angle of her arm.
“Like this,” he murmured.
She followed the movement, though her awareness had narrowed to the presence of him, to the faint roughness of his touch, to the way his breath brushed too close when he spoke.
“This is foolish,” she said, though it came out softer than intended.
“Aye,” he agreed.
Her eyes lifted to his.
There was no amusement there now.
Only something that made her stomach tighten.
He moved closer.
Or perhaps she did.