The Untamable Rogue by Cathy McAllister

simply had to ensure that I did not fall into the hands of Uncle James.
    As my thoughts wandered to Ivo I immediately felt a tingling in my belly. He was both dangerous and attractive at the same time. When I thought of his amorous adventure, to which I was a witness, an inexplicable heat arose within me. What I had seen there was outrageous and what was still more outrageous was the fact that I had not been able to look away. When I had seen my uncle with the kitchen maid it had simply revolted me, completely revolted me. Just the thought of it made me feel sick. The frivolity between Ivo and the beautiful gypsy in the forest, on the other hand, had made me curious: compared to what I had been told about the union of a man and a woman it actually seemed that under certain circumstances it was also pleasurable for the woman. But was it so that only sinful women could experience desire? Was desire a sin? As Ivo and this beautiful woman were not married it must be a sin.
    A sudden noise from outside pulled me from my musing. I jumped out of bed and looked out of the window. People were running excitedly down to the other end of the clearing. They were shouting wildly amongst themselves. The atmosphere seemed to be inflamed.
    “Whatever’s wrong?” I wondered.
    Curious, I dressed and rushed out of the waggon. Outside I bumped into Sergio.
    “What’s going on?” I asked.
    “I don’t know exactly. It looks like my brother has been in trouble again.– Come on. Let’s take a look.”
    He took me by the arm and pulled me in the direction of the turmoil at the other end of the camp.
    *
    The two opponents were circling one another, looking at one another with attentive eyes. One was Ivo and his opponent was a good half a head bigger than him, and also broader. On the other hand Ivo was more agile and clearly a good ten years younger.
    “Who’s that?” I asked, anxious.  I had never seen such a bull of a man.
    “That’s Rikash, the blacksmith,” explained Sergio.
    That did, of course, explain the man’s enormously strong stature and his massive upper arms.
    I could not take my eyes off what was happening. Just like the other spectators here, I held my breath with the tension. The sight made my heart beat wildly. Ivo was well-built and undoubtedly an experienced fighter, but the blacksmith was a bull of a man. I did not want to imagine what damage could be done by a blow from his huge fist. I was reminded a little of David and Goliath, even if Ivo, with his similarly very strong figure and his dark locks, did not quite fit into the role of David.
    Ivo threw a right hook and landed a hard blow on his opponent’s chin: a hit that could definitely have sent a weaker opponent to the ground. But the brawny blacksmith just shook his head, contemptuously spat some blood out of his mouth, and then grinned sinisterly. My heart sank and, involuntarily, I clenched my fists.
    “Is that all you can do –
little one
?” Rikash provoked Ivo scornfully.
    This obvious insult caused an anxious murmur to spread through the crowd of spectators. Ivo, however, was smiling cynically.
    “Your wife didn’t think I was so very small. If I remember correctly she said something like: … that’s much bigger than my old man’s!”
    The crowd became raucous with pleasure.
    Rikash grew red with anger. He threw a powerful, destructive punch, but Ivo ducked with lightning speed and hit his opponent again – hard, in the pit of his stomach. Rikash doubled up briefly, then again hit out at Ivo, catching him on his left temple. 
    The heavy ring that Rikash was wearing on his ring finger tore a deep wound into Ivo’s skin. Blood was running down Ivo’s face, but he did not seem particularly bothered about it. He looked at his opponent with a challengingly grin.
    I had clenched my fists with the tension. I had never before seen a fist fight. It seemed to me to be much more brutal than a fight with daggers or pistols, such as gentlemen used in