Free Gold Dust by Emily Krokosz Page B

jump those two gorillas? You know you can’t handle yourself in a fight!”
    Jonah rubbed his injured nose. He wished his injured pride could be comforted as easily. “I can handle myself in a fight.”
    “That’s why I’ve had to snatch your bacon out of the fire twice in the short time I’ve known you?”
    “I’ll have you know I was middleweight boxing champion at the Smithson School for Young Men in Chicago. I can handle myself
     in a fight. The odds here weren’t fair, you know.”
    She laughed, a delicious sound that nevertheless made Jonah want to strangle her. “The odds are never fair, and no one ever
     fights clean, greenhorn. Fighting’s serious business. You’re going to have to learn to fight dirty.”
    “There’s no reason I should be fighting at all.” He wiped his sleeve across his face and grimaced when it came away streaked
     with blood. “There are not a whole lot of things that are worth getting your teeth knocked out for.”
    Katy smiled impishly. “Well, Jonah Armstrong, since you were nice enough to consider me one of those things, I guess I’ll
     take the trouble to teach you how to beat the stuffings out of the other guy before he can do it to you.”
    “Thank you, Katy, but I don’t need—”
    She punched him lightly in the chest. “Yes you do. Try to punch me.”
    “Don’t be ridiculous. People are going to think I’m assaulting you.”
    “Nah. Most everyone’s drinking beer and playing cards down in the dining room.” She danced around him like a pesky mosquito,
     goading him with stinging shots to his arms, chest, and back. “What’s the matter, Jonah? You afraid of a helpless little female—one
     of those poor creatures who need to be cared for and coddled.”
    “Katy…” He tried to grab her.
    Slippery as a little snake, she slid away, whirled, and kicked out. Her foot stopped just short of his groin.
    “Katy! For God’s sake!”
    Her hand whipped up in a chop that ended with a mere touch on his Adam’s apple. He grabbed again, but she was hard to capture
     as air.
    Suddenly her foot slipped behind his and pushed. He toppled, hitting the deck hard. “Goddamn it!”
    “Tsk, tsk,” Katy chided. “No cussing, please. You’re in the presence of a lady.”
    Jonah surged to his feet. Finally managing to grab her, he pushed her back against the deck cabin before she could break free
     and work more mayhem.
    “See?” she chirped. “I could never fight fair against you. You probably weigh twice what I do, and you’re almost a foot taller.”
    “I wasn’t trying to fight back.”
    “You would’ve been on the floor before you threw your first good punch.”
    She was right. Even if he had been serious, he never would have touched her had she not permitted it. Fearing another demonstration,
     he kept her against the cabin bulkhead. She merely smiled up at him.
    “The groin, the throat, the eyes.” She gently touched each area to demonstrate. The artless intimacy ignited a fire in oneof those most vulnerable areas. Jonah cursed to himself. The little hussy was an expert at getting under a man’s skin. The
     scent of her—how could she smell so clean after five days on this wretched steamer?—threatened to overwhelm him. Where his
     hands grasped her arms, her skin seemed to burn against his.
    Katy continued. “The gut is a good spot on some. Not on you, I think.” She patted his stomach then punched him—not so lightly—with
     her closed fist. “Not bad. Pretty hard. On someone with only flab here you can really put them out with a good gut punch.”
    Abruptly Jonah let her go. If he didn’t get away from the damned temptress right now, he would give her something she richly
     deserved, but that he would be sure to regret.
    “Next time you get in a fight,” she warned solemnly, “just remember what I said. Don’t fight fair. Fight to win.”
    “As you do,” he growled
    “Exactly.”
    With a friendly wave she walked away, hips swinging