by Tina Duncan
‘This?’ he asked, focussing his attention on the conversation at hand.
‘Yes, this.’ She waved a hand through the air. ‘You being here? Getting Steve off my back?’
‘That depends.’
‘On what?’
With a shrug of his massive shoulders, Royce drew his long legs out from under the table and lifted one leg to cross an ankle over a knee. ‘On lots of things. Each case is different, I’m afraid. I can’t tell you when it’s going to end.’
‘Surely you must have some idea?’ she asked, sounding desperate.
‘I’m afraid not. But we’re about to change the rules. That might be enough to make Brady back off.’ He stared at her, a cold feeling invading his insides at what he was about to say. ‘Or it might not. It might make the situation worse—just as you feared.’
She paled.
Royce didn’t want to frighten her. She’d already been frightened enough. But he had to lay his cards on the table. It was only fair that she knew what to expect.
‘I hope not,’ she gasped.
‘I hope not too. But being forewarned is being forearmed. If he does anything once we’ve taken an AVO out against him then we’ll have him,’ Royce said with satisfaction.
He’d love nothing better than to see the other man in jail.
There was nothing new about that. He believed in justice. He liked to see the bad guys get their comeuppance. It was one of the reasons he’d started the Royce Agency in the first place.
So his reaction was perfectly normal.
Except it wasn’t.
There was something different about this situation. Something different about his reaction. It was subtle, but it was there.
And, whatever it was, he had the terrible feeling that it had something to do with the woman sitting in front of him.
‘How I wish I had your confidence,’ Shara said with a sigh, her fingertips making circular patterns on the top of the table. ‘I’m tired of being scared.’
‘Well, if you feel that way maybe you should do something about it,’ Royce suggested.
‘Like what?’ she asked, curious in spite of herself.
She would do anything not to be scared any more.
To feel safe.
Free.
‘Why don’t I give you some karate lessons?’
It was the last thing she’d expected him to say. She barked out a laugh and waved a dismissive hand through the air. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Why not?’
She stopped laughing. ‘You’re serious?’
He nodded. ‘Of course I am. I happen to believe everyone—particularly women—should know the basics of self-defence. The world isn’t a safe place. Things happen. People end up in the wrong place at the wrong time. They should know how to protect themselves. Knowing you possess those skills will give you confidence. There have even been studies showing that by projecting that confidence you’re less likely to be attacked in the first place.’
Shara stared at him doubtfully. ‘I’m not very athletic.’
‘You don’t have to be. I’m not talking about turning you into a black belt who can take on ten men at one time.’
‘I should hope not,’ she said, with another laugh.
At the same time a quiver of sensation swept through her. It was all too easy to imagine Royce taking on ten men—and winning.
She could imagine his muscles rippling as he moved. Could imagine the gleam of danger darkening his chocolate-brown eyes to black.
‘All I’m talking about is teaching you a couple of moves that will get you out of trouble. You’d be surprised how effective a few simple blocks and punches can be.’
Blocks and punches?
He had to be out of his tree.
Shara shook her head. ‘Thank you for the offer, but I don’t think I’d be any good at it.’
He stared at her for such a long time that Shara began to feel uncomfortable. ‘What?’ she demanded.
‘Attitude is nine-tenths of battle. If you want confidence then you need to start acting confidently. Don’t admit defeat before you’ve even given it a try.’
Shara stared at him. ‘What is it about you? Are you a bodyguard or a psychologist?’
He shrugged. ‘I little bit of both, I suppose. An amazing amount of what I do involves getting inside other people’s heads. I guess some of it rubs off.’
She cocked her head to one side. ‘I also have the sneaking suspicion that you don’t believe in wrapping things up in cotton wool.’
Royce shook his head. ‘No, I don’t. I don’t see any point in beating around the bush. I call it as I see it. So, how about it? Are you up for the challenge?’
Shara shrugged. ‘I can’t very well say no now, can I?’
His eyes gleamed. ‘You could, but you wouldn’t be talking the talk or walking the walk.’
‘I know. I know. If I want confidence then the first thing I have to do is act confident.’ She thumped her hands palms down on the table. ‘OK. I’ll give this karate gig a try. What do I have to do?’
His eyes skimmed over her. ‘The first thing you have to do is change. Put on something that’s loose-fitting and comfortable. And lose the sandals.’
Shara shrugged. He was the expert. He obviously knew what he was talking about.
She climbed the stairs to her room and did as he suggested, finding a pair of loose-fitting white trousers she usually wore over her swimsuit to the beach. She left her white T-shirt on. It was stretchy and comfortable so it should fit the bill.
They reconvened in the lounge room.
As she entered Shara’s mouth ran dry.
Royce had also changed. He was wearing a pair of black loose-fitting cotton pants and a singlet that bared the steely strength of his broad, bronzed shoulders to her hungry gaze.
She came to a skidding halt just inside the doorway, her heart beating like a runaway train and her mouth so dry she had to lick her lips to moisten them.
If she’d had reservations about this karate lesson before, one look at Royce quadrupled them.
She hadn’t given the physical aspect of Royce’s suggestion any thought.
Now she did.
She was going to have to touch him.
He was going to have to touch her.
Already she was more aware of him than she wanted to be.
To use one of his own phrases, karate now sounded much too ‘up close and personal’ for her liking.
Royce saw her at that moment. His eyes ran over her, a gleam in their depths suggesting he approved of what he was seeing.
‘Good, you’re here,’ he said, waving her further into the room.
Shara smoothed her moist palms down over her curvy hips. ‘I’m really not sure about this.’
He raised one thick, dark eyebrow. ‘You’re not chickening out on me, are you?’
It was a challenge and they both knew it.
Courage.
That was what she needed.
And loads of it.
What had he said before she’d agreed to this insane suggestion?
Yes—that was it.
Talk the talk and walk the walk.
So that was what she did.
She dragged in a breath, walked into the room, and said, ‘No, I’m not chickening out.’
Royce studied Shara as she walked into the room. She’d followed his instructions and changed into a pair of white loose-fitting pants which were partially see-through.
Not completely—just enough to make the outline of her shape visible.
And what a shape it was.
Lush. Curvy. Womanly.
Hormones raced crazily through his system, hardening muscles and other parts of his anatomy.
Suddenly he regretted offering to give Shara karate lessons.
He’d trained many people over the years—women included. He’d also had numerous sparring partners. He knew what was involved.
Being close.
Touching.
<
br /> Normally those things didn’t bother him.
Today they did.
Which was ridiculous.
He was a professional, not an amateur.
He knew the importance of separating his personal feelings from the job at hand.
There was no doubt in his mind that he could get through this session with the same cool aplomb he would have if he was teaching a man.
He’d pushed some of the furniture back and put the coffee table in a corner of the room, leaving the entire Aubusson rug free for them to work on.
Before he could change his mind Royce went and planted his feet in the middle of the rug, right in front of Shara.
‘OK, let’s start with some simple blocking techniques.’
Shara was so close he could smell the scent of her fragrance. She’d pulled her hair back into a high ponytail on the back of her head. Although he preferred her with her hair down, the ponytail highlighted her spectacular bone structure and made her eyes appear bluer than blue.
‘The first block I’m going to show you is a lower block. It’s used for blocking both strikes and kicks.’
Shara nodded. ‘OK. Where do we start?’
‘Watch me. I’ll show you how it’s done first.’ He braced his feet shoulder-width apart, then put his right arm by his side and tucked his left arm up under his shoulder. ‘This is the starting position. Then, leading with your elbow and forearm, move the left arm across your chest, blocking your middle area. At the same time swing the right arm in a circular motion, protecting the lower area.’
Royce demonstrated the movement several times.
Shara stared at him with studied concentration, eyes slightly narrowed, a furrow forming between her brows.
‘Now you try,’ Royce suggested.
Shuffling her feet into position, Shara moved her arms into the starting position. ‘Is this right?’
‘Yes—now have a go at the block.’
Shara tried, but her arms tangled. ‘I’m sorry. I did it wrong.’
She sounded almost anxious. ‘Don’t worry about it. Hardly anybody gets it right the first time. Here, let me help you,’ Royce said, moving even closer.
Then he did what he’d been dreading and anticipating all at the same time.
He touched her.
CHAPTER FIVE
SHARA dragged in a breath. When she’d mucked up the move she’d tensed, half expecting Royce to yell at her.
Only he hadn’t.
Instead he’d dismissed her error with barely the blink of an eye.
Which wasn’t what she was used to.
Steve had shouted at her all the time.
If the spaghetti sauce she’d made wasn’t thick enough he’d bellowed at her as if it was the end of the world. If it was too thick he’d bawled her out just as loudly. If the bed wasn’t made tightly enough to make a coin bounce he’d criticised her, and if his shirts weren’t ironed to absolute perfection there had been hell to pay.
The constant stream of abuse and the barrage of insults had resulted in her living in an almost constant state of anxiety.
It would take some time getting used to this new state of affairs—but she was looking forward to it.
Royce stepped towards her. He was so close she could feel the heat radiating off his body and smell the scent of his soap or deodorant.
Her nerve-endings twitched as if they’d just been plugged into an electrical socket. Her skin was taut and tight, as if it were being stretched over her bones.
And then he touched her.
Shara tried not to jump. She really did. But she wasn’t sure she was entirely successful because Royce gave her a sharp glance.
‘Get into the starting position again,’ he instructed.
Was his voice deeper than it had been a minute ago? Huskier?
Shara snuck a peek at him through the shield of her lashes. He was staring at her cleavage in a way that instantly made her nipples tighten.
Starting position?
The only positions that sprang into her head had nothing to do with karate but came straight from the pages of the Kama Sutra!
Forcing her attention back to the task at hand, Shara adopted the starting position.
Royce placed one hand on her left upper arm and the other on her left wrist. ‘OK, relax.’
Relax?
Who was he kidding?
She had as much chance of releasing her tensed muscles while he was touching her as she did of flying to the moon.
‘Let me guide you through the movement.’
His hands moved on her arms, leading her step by step.
He would be a good lover, Shara decided, trying to ignore the touch of his hands on her skin. He would lead her to a mind-bending climax with the panache and precision of a conductor conducting an orchestra.
Theoretically speaking, of course.
Because she wasn’t the least bit interested on a personal level.
Definitely not.
Although it did make her wonder about the woman Royce had been in love with. The one who had hurt him.
What had she been like?
And what had gone wrong between them?
‘OK. Repeat the movement with that arm only.’
Shara blinked. She felt like an idiot. She’d been too busy imagining what kind of lover Royce would be and hadn’t concentrated on what he’d shown her.
Shara tried the movement again—and got it wrong.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said.
‘Stop apologising. It isn’t necessary,’ Royce said.
He sounded totally normal. That deepening of his voice had either been her imagination or just a momentary something-or-other.
He was fine now.
All business.
She might as well be a department store dummy for all the effect she had on him.
Whereas her system felt as if it was going to go into complete meltdown.
‘Lead with your elbow across your body,’ Royce instructed.
Shara tried again—and got it wrong. The words I’m sorry were sitting on the tip of her tongue, but she swallowed them back.
‘Again,’ Royce instructed.
She did it again.
‘Better.’ He paused for a beat. ‘Again.’
She repeated the move half a dozen times until Royce was satisfied.
‘Good.’ He nodded his approval. ‘Now let’s do the right arm.’
His hands were on her again. Confident and sure. By the time she’d mastered the right arm movement to Royce’s satisfaction she was hot and more than a little bothered—and it had nothing to do with the lesson and everything to do with Royce.
‘Now let’s put it together.’
They worked for an hour on two closed-fisted blocks, the jab and the elbow strike.
By the time they finished Shara was exhausted—and strangely satisfied.
How could a few simple moves make her feel strong and powerful?
Shara wasn’t sure. Maybe it was the endorphins that had been released into her bloodstream as a result of exercising, or maybe it was simply a psychological reaction to doing something positive and proactive in case she needed to defend herself.
Either way, that was exactly what had happened.
‘So, what did you think of your first lesson?’ Royce asked.
Although she’d enjoyed it immensely, Shara was reluctant to say so.
Because the truth was that it wasn’t just the karate she’d enjoyed but the touching too.
And therein lay the problem.
She was playing with fire.
And fire tended to burn.
She’d been burnt before … and she didn’t want to be burnt again.
Shara was taking such a long time answering that Royce tensed—although why that should be the case he had no idea.
Her answer shouldn’t matter to him one way or another.
Although that wasn’t quite true.
If anything, he should be hoping that she’d hat
ed their session and had no desire to repeat it.
That would be the safe outcome.
Safe …?
Oh, yes.
Definitely safe.
Because the opposite was …
Well, it was fraught with danger.
Shara was the principal. He was the bodyguard. He should maintain a professional distance.
But, despite what common sense demanded and professional etiquette dictated, Royce still hoped that Shara would say, Yes, I liked it and I want to do it again.
Because he wanted to do it again.
Not just the karate, but the touching too.
Which was just not on.
He knew better than to get involved with a client—particularly a rich woman like Shara. They always had their own agenda, and what they wanted was usually at the centre of it.
All he had to do was think about how Fiona had seduced him to suit her own ends to know that.
Although comparing Shara to Fiona wasn’t entirely fair, Royce admitted reluctantly.
Shara’s situation was pretty straightforward and her agenda was clear: make her ex stop stalking her.
Shara was also quite a different kettle of fish from Fiona—as he was beginning to discover.
Today had been pretty intense. He’d put Shara on the spot more than once. In every instance not only had her reaction been genuine but she’d risen to the occasion beautifully.
Still, alarm bells were ringing, and if there was one thing he’d learned it was to listen to his instincts.
He opened his mouth to retract his offer to give her more lessons, but before he could get a single word out Shara spoke.
‘It was great.’ She sounded strangely breathless, and there was a look in her eyes that made his hormones go ballistic. ‘Maybe we can do it again some time?’ she suggested casually.
Royce couldn’t explain what happened when he heard her answer. He should have been disappointed. Should have said he’d changed his mind.
But he did neither of those things.
He really did believe that it was important for Shara to learn self-defence.
It was a legitimate reason for continuing with the lessons.
He wasn’t justifying it.
And it certainly had nothing to do with Shara personally.
He raised an eyebrow and said, equally casually, ‘How about tomorrow?’
The next day was Sunday. As well as practising what he’d taught her the day before, they worked on two more blocks, and a punch as well as a kick.