Barefoot With a Bodyguard (24 page)

But that was before Kate.

Taking a slow breath, he walked to her room and didn’t even bother to knock, opening the door to find her sitting on the bed in nothing but a tank top, underwear, and a dreamy smile. She startled at the sight of him, then her face softened.

He forced his to do the opposite. “Get dressed, Kate. We’re doing soft targets today.”

Her eyes widened, and instantly, he recognized the look of desire in her eyes. “That sounds…fun.”

“Self-defense lessons,” he said. “That’s what you wanted, right?”

Her mouth twitched in a smile. “Right.”

“Get ready. Now.”

He left before she could bitch about how much she hated to be told what to do. Before she could ask any questions or make demands. Before she could coax one more piece of dangerous information out of him. And before he gave in and got right in that bed with her.

*

“Okay, one more time,” Alec demanded. “What are the eight soft targets?”

He stood in front of Kate on the patio, bare-chested, the morning sun pouring over the sinewy cuts of his chest and biceps, highlighting every angle and bulge and bead of sweat. She tried to concentrate on the question…soft targets.

There was nothing soft about him. Including the glare slicing her in half.

“Kate? Remember the poem.”

She rolled her eyes, the singsong melody still in her head.
Stab the eyes, twist the ears, slam his mouth right up his nose. Then grab the throat, kick the groin, bend the fingers, and stomp the toes.
“I don’t need a freaking nursery rhyme to remember stuff, Alec. I know where a person’s weak spots are.”

“You will panic and forget.”

“I hate the way you say that, like an attack is inexorable.”

It was his turn to roll his eyes. “Speak English.”

“Okay.” She got in his face. “I. Want. My. Coffee. Is that English enough for you?”

He put his hands up. “You’ll get it when you learn all eight techniques. First, what’s your objective again?”

“To inflict pain.”

“And get away,” he reminded her. “Not pain for pain’s sake, pain so you can escape. Remember that.”

Something was bubbling under his surface, that was for sure. “Escape to coffee?” she teased, trying to lighten his mood.

“If you can.”

It was all the motivator she needed. “Great. Hurry, then.”

“Okay, now try to stab my eye out.”

She blinked at him. “Just poke it out?”

“Try.”

“Of course you’ll overpower me and flip me down on the ground and flatten me and…” Actually, that didn’t sound so bad. She shot her hand up with no intention of actually hitting his eye, and he snagged her arm and whipped her around and had her in a choke hold before she could take a breath.

“I told you,” she said, wiggling out when he released her.

“Try the ears next. I’m coming at you…” He took a step closer. “Reach up to get my ears.”

She did, and he easily elbowed her hands away from his head.

“Well, shit, how can I do anything if you keep stopping me?”

“Find another soft target,” he demanded.

She scanned his body again, zeroing in on his throat. “Okay.”

He had her shoulder and jerked her around before she could get within five inches of his throat. In a flash, he had her immobilized with his arms banded around her, with her back to his front, shockingly vulnerable.

“What’s the rest of the poem?” he demanded. “Think, Kate.”

She couldn’t think. Her ass was against his crotch, his arms were thick and strong, and he smelled…good. How could she—

“Can you grab my throat?”

She couldn’t possibly raise either hand higher than her chest. “No.”

“What’s the easiest soft target open to you?”

She lifted her foot to stomp his, but he deftly moved and she missed.

“The groin,” he reminded her. “You can step to the left and use your right hand to punch, grab, twist, and pull. I can’t stop you without letting go of you.”

“Is that why you’re so insistent we do this now? A groin grab?” As she asked the question, she inched to the side and lowered her hand, landing right on the bulge in his pants. And stroking once.

“No!” He whisked her off the ground and flipped her to the other side of him, spinning around, his eyes sparking. “That’s the last thing you do, Kate.”

It was the
only
thing she wanted to do. She stared at him, the rejection stinging. “Why are you doing this?”

“For your protection.”

“You told me the other day it could be worse, not better, for me.”

“And you’re proving my point, Kate.” He shook his hands out, something she’d noticed he did a lot when he was mad or frustrated. “Listen, I’m serious now.”

Yep, something was definitely different and weird. Was it because they’d fooled around on the beach? Because Luke McBain had essentially “caught” them? “Why now? Why not before?”

He shook his head. “Just pay attention and let’s work on—”

“What changed?” she demanded, knowing instantly from the tiny spark in his eyes that something had for sure. And it wasn’t good. “Did you see someone? Find something out?”

“No, I just want you to be safe if…if I’m not here.”

Her heart dropped a little. No, a lot. Too much, in fact, to be a normal reaction to him leaving. “Why would you not be here?”

“I’m going to have to leave eventually. And you might…stay.”

She could feel the blood draining from her face, hating that her body betrayed her emotions like that. “That’ll be interesting to explain to the staffers who think we’re newlyweds.”

He rocked back on his heels. “I guess they’ll tell them you’re hanging out while I travel on business or something.”

“You
have
talked to someone!”

His eyes flickered, and she silently thanked that moot-court mentor who’d taught her to look for the shuttered-eyes tell. “Let’s just keep doing this, Kate. You need to know at least three foolproof ways to escape an attacker. Also, how to get out of duct tape, a locked trunk, or a moving vehicle.”

“When are you leaving?” she asked, hating the way the question almost strangled her. Good God, what was wrong with her? A few days ago she’d have killed to have been rid of him. And now…

Maybe it
was
Stockholm syndrome.

“Eventually,” he said.

“But so am I,” she replied. “I’m sure Gabe could time it so that happened around the same time.”

He lifted a shoulder. “Let’s talk about setting your feet. That’s part of your problem, you know. You’re off-balance.”

“You do that to me.” She met his gaze while she made the admission. “And it scares me.”

He shook his hands at his sides, then became like a statue. “What should scare you is—”

“We’re going to sleep together. You know we are.”

He let out a breath. “That.”

“It doesn’t scare me,” she announced. “But I have to know more about you before I do. The inside stuff. The real you. I can’t sleep with you until I do.”

He looked like he was having a hard time swallowing, let alone coming up with a good answer. “That’s good,” he finally said.

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t sleep with someone you don’t know. So that’s good.” Not only did he sound unconvinced, the way he said it pissed her off.

“How is that good?” she pressed.

“It’s smart.”

“But you would sleep with me even if you didn’t know anything about me.”

“I wouldn’t…” At her notched eyebrow, he dipped his head. “I shouldn’t.”

“But you would. I guess you’re a guy, and a fuck’s a fuck, even if—”

“Stop it.” He ground out the words and got right in her face, grabbing her arm for emphasis. “I’m not telling you more about myself for your own protection, the same reason I’m doing everything. Watching over you, ready to kill for you, making sure you stay safe.”

She stared up at him, her pulse pounding, the air crackling, his eyes narrowing as if…he wanted to kiss her. And she took the opportunity of his intense concentration to grab one of his fingers and bend it in the wrong direction, forcing him to release her.

He barely flinched at what she knew had to hurt. “Awesome, Kate. You were listening.”

“Where the finger goes, the hand has to follow,” she said, echoing one of the first things he’d taught her. “And I earned coffee.” Before he could even think about stopping her, she shot toward the kitchen and pounced on the coffeemaker, staring at the machine as it brewed, her back to the patio and Alec.

“Do you think I’m taking advantage of you?”

The question startled her, along with his quiet entrance. Then she thought about what he was asking and laughed softly. “I think we can be honest about who’s driving the sex situation here. Like I said, you make me lose my balance.” She gave a dry laugh. “In fact, you make me lose a lot of things, like my common sense and sanity and my hard-won belief that I need to be completely alone to be safe and that I will never, ever, ever, ever depend on a man for anything, because I hate how they control me…” Pausing for a much-needed breath, she finished, “All that stuff, just poof.” She snapped her fingers. “Gone at the sight of a big man who would…kill for me.”

He’d stayed still through the whole speech and finally lifted one hand and placed it on her cheek, the touch so incredibly light and gentle and tender that her legs almost buckled.

“What did he do to you to make you that angry?”

“He…he…” She nuzzled her cheek against his palm, like a kitten desperate for affection. “He never touched me like this.” She closed her eyes, not wanting to see the pity in his.

“Then he’s an idiot.”

She smiled. “Sadly, he’s anything but. He’s a shrewd, conniving bastard.” She put her hand over his, stroking it and pressing it harder to her cheek. “Your hands…” She sighed again. “So different…from his.”

“Did he hurt you, Kate?”

“He never hit me, if that’s what you mean. But, you know, he made decisions for me, he suffocated me, and he oppressed me, and, God, he put me down. And before you ask why I allowed that to happen, just understand that of the five years I was married, four and change were spent knowing I had to extricate myself from the situation, which was no mean feat with that man.”

He stroked her chin and jaw, studying her. “How’d you finally manage to do that?”

“My dad helped a lot, once he finally realized Steven was not all he’d dreamed for a son-in-law. He pushed things through the court system when Steven did everything to delay our divorce and protract the legalities. It just took Dad a long time to see through Steven. Everybody falls for his charm,” she said. “But when you get to know him…” She shuddered. “He is so full of hate. I didn’t see that, though. I was completely fooled.”

She looked up and blinked, a tear she hadn’t realized she’d shed dribbling down her cheek until it was brushed away by a large, but incredibly
tender
, thumb.

“As soon as we were married, the real Steven emerged.” The words rushed out, like they’d been pent up for too long. “He overpowered me mentally and emotionally. He made every choice for me, held every purse string, issued every order, and maintained complete control. I was forced to do everything.”

His eyes widened in horror.

“Not that,” she added. “Never that.” And another dry laugh. “He hated…” God, this was hard, but she had to tell him. She didn’t know why, but she had to let it out.

“Tell me, Kate.”

“He hated sex,” she finally admitted. “The times we were together, it was perfunctory, dark, quick, more to shut me up than anything. He was like an asexual man who got off on money and power, but really didn’t care about anything emotional or…physical. And I guess it was another way to control me, because I wanted a normal, healthy, sexual relationship with my husband.”

She closed her hands over his arms, needing his strength right then, his solid, masculine power that propped her up. “I guess that’s why I seem so hard up.”

“You aren’t hard up. You’re…” He stroked her face again, two hands now, clasping her cheeks like she was precious, but he didn’t finish his sentence.

“Lonely? Horny? Starved for affection? Go ahead, I can take it.”

He just smiled. “You’re the word lady. I was going for something more like…
worthy
. Yeah.” He nodded. “You’re worthy of so much better than being controlled and ignored.”

With a long, pained sigh, she slipped her arms around him and let herself be pulled into his chest. An achy comfort warmed her, making her feel completely safe and secure.

“Come on, Smarty-Pants. Get your coffee, and then I’m going to teach you some foolproof escape methods, and we still have more soft targets to master.”

But her softest target was the one in her chest and, right that minute, it felt like Alec Petrov was moving toward ownership of it.

There was no foolproof escape for that, was there?