Merline Lovelace - Dangerous Nights

“Step closer to me.” When she hesitated, he added, “Come on. Keep your elbow down and close to your body.”

Drawing a shaky breath, Annie edged nearer.

“Okay, look what that did to my grip, the angle of my wrist.”

Her wary gaze still on him, she tipped her head like a curious puppy, then glanced down at the awkward cant of his hand.

“Now make a fist and twist it up toward my thumb and over my arm.”

She followed his directions and broke free of his grasp. Instead of smiling at her success, Annie scowled. “I didn’t do that. You let go on purpose.”

He chuckled. “Yeah, because I didn’t want a broken wrist. Here. Try it on me, and I’ll show you.”

Annie gripped the arm he extended at his wrist, and he worked through the steps he’d just shown her slowly, repeating, “Step in. Arm close to you. Fist. Twist toward their thumb and—”

“Ow!” Annie dropped his arm and shook her hand as he broke her hold. She blinked at him, her expression stunned.

He sent her a satisfied grin. “You okay?”

“Yeah, I—” She wet her lips and stood taller. A bit of the skepticism melted from her expression, replaced by intrigue. “It works.”

“Of course it works.” He chuckled. “I’m not gonna teach you stuff that doesn’t work. What’s the point in that?”

“Touché.” The corner of her mouth twitched, and a pink flush stained her cheeks.

Even that sultry hint of a grin scrambled his concentration and filled his chest with a warmth that expanded until he couldn’t catch his breath. But her delicate blush reminded him that despite her full lips and temptress hairstyle, Annie was off-limits. He had nothing to offer the young mother except heartache, and she’d seen enough pain in her life.

“Okay, next move.” He stepped behind her, catching her shoulders when she tried to turn toward him. “No, this time let’s suppose someone comes up from behind and grabs you like this …” He circled her with his arms, pinning her arms to her sides, and tugged her back against his chest. Again, she stiffened under his restrictive hold.

The light floral scent of her shampoo teased his senses. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself when her futile attempts to break from his hold caused her fanny to buck against his crotch.

After a moment of panicked wiggling, her breath coming in shallow gasps, she stilled. “Let go. Please. I—I don’t want to do this.”

“Struggling doesn’t do anything but wear you out, Annie. You have to use your head. Stay calm.”

She gave a small nod and drew a tremulous breath.

“You can break his grip by dropping to the ground. Just lift your feet. But shift all your weight onto his arms. Or if you throw your head back hard—although not now, ‘cause I don’t want a bloody nose—your skull is hard enough to bash your attacker’s face.”

She tipped her head back slowly until she lightly bumped his face. Her silky hair tickled his nose and stroked his cheek.

Another spike of arousal sucker punched him, and he wrestled down the urge to nuzzle her neck. He cleared his throat and stepped back, allowing her to face him. “That move, uh … will at least catch him off guard.”

Mentally he regrouped, concentrating on the details Annie needed to know. He had only to think of the dangerous people who could be gunning for her after last night and the importance of her knowing how to protect herself to bring him back to the task at hand. “That’s a key thing to remember. If you can pull a surprise move on him, it gives you back the upper hand for a few seconds. Use those seconds to strike a debilitating blow that will help you get away. Got it?”

“What debilitating blows? I’m not Bruce Lee.”

“Remember those strike points I mentioned?”

She hesitated. “Eyes, throat and … groin.”

“Good. We’ll get to the Bruce Lee part later. But first you have to break his hold. Once you’re free, pull out your pepper spray and prepare to douse him.”

Her forehead dented as she frowned. “I don’t have pepper spray.”

“Get some. Keep it with you.” He waved her close again. “Let me show you something else.”

When he stepped toward her, Annie visibly shivered, and Jonah’s heart squeezed. He hated the fear that flickered in her watchful eyes. Some bastard had really done a number on her. The mugging last night hadn’t helped.

He pressed his mouth in a taut line, realizing that, more than the physical scars on her cheek, Annie bore emotional scars on her heart thanks to the rough treatment she’d received from a man she’d loved. Just as his mom had.

But understanding the source of her ghosts made it all the more important to him that he not add to her pain. He had to be careful not to give her false expectations, not to follow through on the desire that pounded in his veins. He had to protect her from himself.

He paused and held his palms up. “You up for one more demonstration?”

She hugged herself and, closing her eyes, inhaled a deep breath. Blew it out slowly. “All right.”

Pride washed through him. Given her history, he knew any reminders of violence and her vulnerability had to be frightening, yet she was here, giving his lessons a fair shake. She had the core strength and resilience that were essential to rebounding from the knocks life had given her.

From behind her, he held her waist with one hand and pressed his other forearm against her throat. “There are two things you can do if you’re being choked like this. First, turn your head to the side, into the crook of his arm. That repositions your windpipe so that you can get air.”

She moved her head accordingly.

“Good. Perfect.”

As he splayed the hand at her waist wider, snuggling her closer to his body, he heard the whisper of her breath catching. A tiny gasp. A feathery near sigh.

The sound shot fire through his blood. He could all too easily imagine her making sexy sighing sounds during sex. Her wispy breath caressed the arm he held to her throat.

Gritting his teeth, he stifled a moan. Jonah shifted his arm from her throat to complete the circle around her waist. Perhaps his idea of private lessons had been ill-advised. The intimate contact required to teach the defensive moves correctly would test even a monk’s willpower. Especially when working with a woman as attractive and intriguing as Annie.

He took a moment to gather his composure, blocking out the mental images of stroking her pale skin and exploring the soft curves that were currently nestled against him like a custom-fit glove.

“If he’s holding you—” Jonah stopped, hearing the rumbling, husky quality that darkened his tone and left no secret of his arousal. The subtle tensing of her muscles told him she hadn’t missed the shift in the atmosphere, the crackle of sexual tension. He cleared his throat.

Without warning, Annie went limp in his arms. The sudden weight on his arms, the shift in his center of balance sent him sprawling forward. Just as he’d told her it would.

Using lightning reflexes, employed a half second too late to avoid falling, Jonah twisted, landing beside her rather than crushing her with his weight. His shoulder caught the brunt of the tumble, and he rolled to his back, his breath jarred from his lungs.

Annie scrambled away, climbing to her feet and edging to the far side of the room. With her head bowed to her hands, she stood with her back to him, shaking.

Jonah pinched the bridge of his nose. So much for protecting her from himself and reining in his attraction to her.

Private lessons were too intimate, too personal. Their proximity clearly intimidated her. But how was he supposed to help her learn defensive maneuvers without driving himself insane touching her, having her body close to his?