Her fingers curled once more. She selected her next words like throwing knives. “If you think this training nonsense is going to result in you climbing into my bed, you’re delusional.” She added with a slice of a smile, “I’d sooner let in a mangy street dog.” “Oh, it’s not going to result in me climbing into your bed.” Nesta snickered, victory achieved, and had reached the stairs when he crooned, “You’ll climb into mine.” She whirled toward him, foot still suspended midair. “I’d rather rot.