“I like your place.” He had interesting tastes and not just in the Monet and Picasso paintings hung on the walls. How he could afford such extravagant paintings was beyond her. The night club business must pay very well.
He seemed to like bold statements in his decor. The black leather sofa and chair were accented by scarlet red throw pillows and rug that sat on the dark mahogany hardwood floor. The window treatments were also in bold reds and whites. The walls were a soft brown. And from what she remembered of his bedroom, it was done in chocolate brown satin and silk. The man had taste.
“Did you bring a change of clothing?”
“No, I didn’t realize I would need to, and how silly that was of me. Of course I’d need something a little more comfortable than a skirt. What was I thinking?” She hadn’t been, obviously.
“You’re nervous. No need to be. Just take a few deep breaths and relax.”
Easy for him to say, he wasn’t the one terrified for his life. But she did as he instructed and closing her eyes, she drew in several deep breaths. And felt herself relax.
“That’s better. What I meant actually was that when you’re finished you may be a little sweaty and want to shower and change.”
“Oh,” she felt even more foolish now.
“Not a problem. I believe I might have something that you could work out in. I’ll just be a minute.”
“It’s really not a problem. I’d hate to put you out.” But even as she said it, he was dashing off to some room across from his bedroom. Letting out a nervous breath, Deborah wondered what he had in store for her. Would she be practicing punches? Maybe wrestling moves? Oh lord, maybe it was karate. What had she agreed to?
“These should work for you.”
She jumped, and by the look on his face she deduced that’s he’d seen it. Trying to disguise her jitters, she looked down at the clothes he held out to her. “Did these belong to one of your girlfriends?”
The corner of his mouth lifted and she caught the twinkle in his eyes. “One of my sisters, actually. She likes to stay with me when she comes back home from one of her many modeling gigs. She’s about your size.”
Taking the black lycra capri shorts and sleeveless tank top, Deborah examined their size. “You’re sister is a model?”
“You might have heard of her. Jessica Adams.”
Deborah’s eyes flew open wide. “Get out! Jessica’s your sister? We’ve met a few times at functions we’ve both attended. She is lovely.”
“She is indeed. All of my sisters are pretty,” he bragged.
“How many sisters do you have?”
“Five. I also have five brothers. You can change in the bedroom just down the hall and to your left.”
He led her to the room then left her to change. She waited until he’d left before she stepped into the room. It was large, similar in size to her bedroom back home. The one she’d been…Swallowing the lump in her throat, Deborah glanced around the room. The queen-size bed sat in the center of the room on a platform, which thrilled her. At least no one could hide under it. To her left was a closet and straight ahead was a window. It was fairly straight forward yet she stood there a few moments quivering.
Unable to close the bedroom door completely, she stepped behind it and began to change. It gave her the vantage point of seeing out into the hall through the crack and watching the closet door to make sure no one jumped out of it.
Feeling somewhat secure, she began to change.
Zack had ten siblings? And one of his siblings was famous. Deborah just couldn’t get over it as she changed into the workout gear.
She couldn’t imagine having that many children, or that many siblings. Though she’d always wished for at least one sibling, she wouldn’t want to have had ten. Fighting for the washroom alone must have been a chore.
Feeling more than a little awkward in the skin-tight garments, Deborah inched her way out of the bedroom. She was glad the top came up high to her neck and hid her chest wound. She found Zach doing push-ups on the floor between the dining and living room. He wore a pair of gray sweat pants and a sleeveless, white tee shirt. His arms were fairly muscular, which surprised her. Apparently beneath those tailored suits was a buffed man.
He jumped up when he spotted her and, grabbing a towel from a chair nearby, mopped up his face. “That fits perfectly. So, are you ready?”
“No,” she giggled nervously, wringing her hands in front of her.
“There’s nothing to be afraid of. We’ll start off simple and work our way up. How physically fit are you?”
“I jog twice a week…or, I did before…” she trailed off on a sigh.
“You’ll have good leg strength then. What about your arms?” He pulled up the chair he’d taken the towel from and knelt down beside it. When he placed his elbow on the seat holding his hand up, looking at her, she wasn’t sure what he was doing. “Join me. We’re going to arm wrestle.”
Her eyes must have shot wide open because his face filled with a smile. “Are you serious? You want to arm wrestle me?”
“Just to see what arm strength you have. I promise I’ll go easy on you.”
With a frown, she got down on her knees, placed her elbow on the chair then clasped her hand with his. His grip was firm.
Then his gaze shifted to her wrist, and the red welt-like scar circling it. She saw the sorrow come into his eyes.
“Maybe I’ll be the one going easy on you,” she said, catching his attention. She didn’t want him to focus on her injuries.
He met her eyes and it was as if he had red her mind. “I love a surprise. Look at my eyes.” He motioned with his free hand. “Focus on my face and don’t think too hard about trying to beat me.”
Pursing her lips, she locked her eyes to his. They were such a beautiful deep blue and he had incredibly long eyelashes. When she felt his hand squeeze onto her, she did the same.
And then her hand was on the chair, his over top of it.
“Hmmm…”
“I wasn’t ready.”
“That’s the whole point. Even though you were caught off guard, you’re instincts to protect, to resist, should kick in. Try it again.”
Annoyed, she set her elbow back on the seat and grabbed his hand. This time he would not get the better of her.
“Focus on my eyes.”
She narrowed hers, clasped his hand a little tighter. This time when he pressed her arm back, she resisted. Using all the strength she had, she held him back, preventing him from winning. Her upper arm burnt like fire but she was not about to give in just yet.
“Good. I guess playing the piano has its merits when it comes to physical fitness.” He released her hand and stood.
Giving her arm a shake as she stood, she said with great pride, “When you have to sit before a piano for hours on end, day after day, you’d better be sure your arms and hands can handle it. I wear wrist weights when I jog.”
“Interesting.” He smiled and the charm shot right into her belly. “Okay, let’s see what else you’ve got.
He charged at her with fists raised and her first instinct was to duck down on the floor and curl her arms over her head.
Chapter Thirteen
He knelt down beside her, not touching her because he knew it would only make her jump. What had this bastard done to her to make her so afraid? “You’re safe here, Deborah. I’m not going to hurt you.”
Slowly, her head came up and he watched as her eyes went from terrified to relative calmness. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologize to me. You did what came naturally to you. Now let’s see if we can change that.” Holding his hand out to her, he waited for her to take it, giving her as much time as she needed. When she finally took hold, he helped her to her feet. “First, I have to know that you trust me.”
“I do.”
“Completely?”
“Yes.”
Zach stood there a moment, just looking at her before he responded, “Then you wouldn’t have cowered. We need to build your trust in me first. Turn around.”
“Pardon me?”
“Turn around so that your back is to me.”
She hesitated a moment, which he’d expected, before she did as he asked. “Good. Now let yourself fall.”
She spun around, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”
“You don’t trust me. Until you do, this won’t work. You can change now.” Grabbing his towel, he headed to his bedroom to change his clothing. Until she trusted him there was no point in him trying to help her.
“Wait just a minute.” She raced after him. “Let me get this straight. Because I don’t trust you, you won’t teach me how to defend myself?”
“Yes.”
She darted out in front of him, stopping him mid stride. “What does my trusting you have to do with teaching me self defense?”
“When you were in training to become a concert pianist, did you not trust what your teacher told you to be true?”
“Well, of course.” She rolled her eyes.
She had beautiful eyes. “The same goes for me. You have to believe and trust in me in order for what I teach you to have merit. Until that happens…” He held his hand out to her, shrugging.
“This is crazy.”
“Think what you like. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I would like to change.”
“No.”
He waited a beat. “Excuse me?”
“No. I will not excuse you and I will not accept that you won’t teach me until I trust you. If I didn’t trust you I wouldn’t be here now.”
“True.” He let her go on.
“We’re going to finish this here and now.” She turned her back to him and when she let herself fall, he was ready to catch her. She tipped her head up to look at him. “See. I trust you.”
“Good thing I have fast reflexes.” Pushing her back to a vertical stance, he smiled as she turned to him. “Now you are ready.”
He led her back to the living room, laying his towel over the back of the chair before getting started. “Was that the first time since your ordeal that you said that word?”
“What word?”
“No.”
Her head tilted as she responded. “Of course not.”
“Think about it. I’m not talking as a casual statement. I’m talking telling someone no to something you did not want or like.” He saw her mind working and waited.
“I…I guess so.”
“Good. It’s a start. Now, what do you know about protecting yourself?”
“Um…the basics I guess.”
“Which are…?”
“Use my fists and feet.”
“Well…yes, but there’s more to it than that. What is a woman’s first instinct when confronted by a forceful man?” When she stared at him, he continued. “Knee to the groin.”
“Seriously?”
He nodded. “Of course. But that only helps if you’re facing your attacker. Turn your back to me again.” This time there was no hesitation. “If I came up behind you and grabbed you like this…” Stepping in behind her, he wrapped his arms around hers, pinning her to his chest. “What would you do?”
“I…I don’t know.”
“Just breathe, Deborah and remember. I won’t hurt you.” He could feel her heart hammering in her chest and knew if she didn’t calm down soon she would blackout. “What is your first instinct?”
“Struggle,” she stated breathlessly.
“That will only cause me to tighten my grip. Lift your foot and slam it down on your abductor good and hard.”
“Seriously? But won’t that just piss him off?”
“Probably, but in the instant that you slam your foot down on his, he will loosen his grip instinctually. That gives you the opportunity to break free. Another tactic is slamming your head into his face but since you’re quite short—”
“I’m not that short.”
“Shorter than your abductor,” he amended with humor. “In that case, if you happen to be quite a bit smaller than your attacker, your best recourse would be to jump up. What that will do is catch the top of your head on the bottom of his chin. Once again, the moment it happens he will loosen his grip on you. Now, when you break free of him, what do you do next?”
“Run like hell.”
“Yes, and…?”
“I don’t know.”
“Scream. Yell as loud as you can, draw as much attention to yourself as you possibly can. Your abductor will not try to come after you and risk being caught.” He released her now with much regret. She felt so soft in his arms and that scent of hers was intoxicating. “What do you have in your purse for self defense?”
“Um…”
“Keys?”
“Of course.”
“Comb?”
“Sometimes.”
“Pepper spray?”
“No.” Her lips pursed.
“I suggest buying some. Anyone comes up to you in an aggressive manner you just aim it at his face and spray. How do you hold your keys when you’re walking to your car or to your house?”
“They’re usually in my purse.”
Turning, he grabbed his keys from the dining room table. “This is how you should hold them.” Slipping a key between each knuckle, he held it up to her. “Someone comes at you, tries to take you, just slam your fist into any part of their body. These keys are hard enough and in some cases depending on the force, sharp enough to penetrate flesh. He’ll be too busy writhing in pain to come after you.”
“My god! I can’t do that. I can’t hurt someone.”
“It’s him or you. Which will you choose?”
Her lips pursed again. “Me.”
“Exactly. Now, if you’re wearing a scarf, never hang the ends over your back.”
“Why?”
Grabbing the towel, he swung it around her neck, leaving the ends to rest on her back. Then he grabbed both ends, and twisted just enough to give her the idea. “It’s very easy for an assailant to choke you this way. Not so easy if they’re in the front.”
“Wow. I never thought of it like that.”
“Most women don’t. It is a sad fact but women are vulnerable and easy targets. But you can do something to stop that. Now, let’s practice your punches and kicks.”
Chapter Fourteen
For the first time in too long, Deborah had slept a full six hours without a nightmare. Her workout the night before had left her feeling tired but invigorated at the same time. Although her chest wound stung a little, she was relieved it hadn’t opened up. And it was healing nicely. Exercise had proven to be just what she’d needed, apparently. Maybe she needed to figure out some exercise routine before bed. If it helped her sleep nightmare-free she was willing to try anything.
Trying to be as quiet as possible so as not to wake Ginny, Deborah took her coffee to the back deck to enjoy the gloriously bright, warm summer morning—what was left of it at least. Ginny had a nice place; even the backyard was well kept. She’d never pictured her friend as a gardener yet there were flowers galore. Who would have thought?
Stretching her feet out, Deborah sipped her coffee while enjoying the beautiful view. She jumped—and was embarrassed by it—when a black cat pounced up onto the deck. “Well hello there.”
He/she wound around Deborah’s legs, tickling her and making her smile. “Aren’t you a friendly kitty.” Because his/her fur looked so satiny, she couldn’t help but lean down and pet it. “Oh, you’re a boy,” she chuckled when he lifted his tail showing off his genitalia. “What a pretty boy you are.”
Se
tting her coffee cup on the small table beside her, she sat down on the deck with the cat. He certainly wasn’t afraid of her, which was evident when he crawled onto her lap. She sat in the morning sun, scratching the cat’s head and enjoying the moment. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt so…relaxed.
“Do you have a home, big guy? You must. You’re too clean for a street cat.” Only thing was, he didn’t have a collar on. “Your owners must be worried about you. Wish I knew where you lived.” She giggled when he planted his front paws on her chest to rub his head against her chin. “You certainly are affectionate.”
She sat there for over an hour, simply petting the cat, drinking in the sun until her belly begged her for food. “I don’t know about you, but I’m starved. I haven’t had breakfast yet. Would you like some milk?” Setting the cat on the deck, she got to her feet and headed for the door. When she turned around, the cat was gone. “Oh…well…it was nice meeting you.”
More than a little disappointed that he’d run off, she went into the house to eat.
***
Zach sat in the small flowering brush in the garden to the side of the house, watching Deborah as she closed the door behind her. Maybe it was wrong to mislead her, but he’d wanted to see how she was doing today, after their first session. There was more color in her face, which was a blessing. She really had beautiful skin that shone when she was happy. She needed to be happy more often.
Unfortunately, someone had taken that away from her. If he knew who the bastard was, he would hunt him down and show him what it felt like to be afraid. Any man who preys on a woman isn’t worth the spit in their mouth. Women were meant to be cherished. Not abused.
Zach sat in his cat form, enjoying the sunshine, wishing Deborah would come back outside.
There was something about her that pulled at him, and it was more than the need to protect. Her eyes called to him, those big brown pools. He’d felt it the moment he’d first looked at her. It was his kind’s belief that each being was born to belong to another and in that moment of birth, each was linked to the other. Never before in all the years of his life had he ever felt a connection to another being as strongly as he felt for Deborah.
Shiela Stewart - [Darkness 08] Page 8