"Fuck," he swore, his eyes squeezed shut and his hand cradling his jaw for a minute. She'd done it—Miss Lynch had actually punched him again. He opened his eyes and stared at her with a mixture of shock and awe.

"Incredibly," he chuckled, though his voice was laced with an equal amount of pain as there was amusement. "I must give you credit; you do have an impressive right hook." His eyes moved to her hand, which she'd covered and pressed against her torso—a sight that was almost enough to make him feel guilty.

This time, however, she'd made the choice to hit him, rather than doing so out of instinct.

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