Knightless in Seattle

by Jill Jaynes

  He knew deep within himself, that one night with her would not even come close to satisfying him.

  She stroked her foot along his shin in a slow caress. "I need you."

  "Not nearly as much as I need you," he growled as he slid her t-shirt over her head in a single deft motion, exposing her breasts, barely covered in a lacy scrap of a bra. She still wore the lacy white fingerless gloves that reached to her elbows. The effect made him crazy. She was the most irresistible thing he'd seen in... Well, ever. He reached behind her to unhook the clasp of her bra. "I think I'd give just about anything to see you wearing nothing but these gloves."

  "But this is my sexiest bra!" Jackie protested as he tossed it over the side of the bed. "You barely even... Ohhh."

  Lance had cupped her breasts in his hands. "God you are beautiful."

  She moaned beneath him. The sound almost sent him over the edge. Pressing his face to the warm, velvet of her skin, he licked his way up between her breasts before ravenously claiming first one tantalizing nipple, then the other. She tasted of salt and smelled like desire.

  "Thank God you don't take all that knightly stuff too seriously," Jackie said breathlessly. She tugged at the waist of his jeans. "You have too many clothes on, by the way."

  "What knightly stuff?" He stood, to pull off his shirt and step out of his jeans.

  "Well, you know, that chastity thing. Oh!"

  He removed her jeans and panties in one efficient move.

  "Lucky for you, those chastity rules don't apply to Ninja Knights," he murmured. He looked down at her for a moment. A warm, willing, stunningly gorgeous woman waiting on the bed. Wearing nothing but a pair of fingerless gloves.

  Jackie's gaze traveled admiringly up and down his body, before she met his eyes with a smoldering look that promised all kinds of heaven. "Lucky for you, you mean." She reached out to him. "Hurry up."

  He didn't need to be told twice. Falling on her with a groan, he held her close for a moment, reveling in the feel of every inch of her skin against every inch of his. He smoothed his hand down over her curves, tracing the side of her breast, the silky skin of her hip and thigh, her deliciously rounded ass.

  Then he pulled back and sat up to look at her. "I don't know how I got lucky enough to find you. But now that I have, I'm not letting you get away."

  Positioning himself at her feet, he wrapped his fingers around one ankle, lifting it slightly to press a kiss to the arch of her foot. "You are the whole package." He could feel her tremble beneath his lips as he kissed his way up her calf to the back of her knee. "Beautiful, smart, brave.

  "Did I mention beautiful?" With one finger he traced a path up her inner thigh. "I need to know all of you Jackie." He put his mouth where his finger had been, and trailed slow, wet kisses along her smooth skin.

  "Oh God," Jackie panted, "oh, Lance. You don't have to do this..."

  "Oh, yes, I absolutely do. I want to know every inch of you, and I'm going to start right here." He smiled as he warmed to his task.

  With any luck, it was going to be a long night.

  * * * *

  Monday Morning, Office of Ernest, Ernest and Cope Architects

  "Well, I guess I'm about as ready as I'm gonna be." Hands on hips, Jackie swept the room with a last critical gaze.

  Chairs pushed against the walls facing the middle of the room? Check.

  Bright red safety mats covering the expanse of open floor? Check.

  Doughnuts and coffee waiting on a side table? Check.

  But her biggest accomplishment by far? No monstrously huge conference table occupied the center of the largest space in the office suite. It had taken a good three hours on Saturday for her and the poor window-washer guy she had talked into helping her to take it apart and lug the pieces down the hall to the only place where it would fit, her boss's office. She should get a medal for that alone. Maybe this would be the thing that finally got her boss to appreciate the extra effort she put in whenever he asked.

  The worst part about moving that stupid table was that it had sucked up all the time she had on Saturday, which meant she'd had to get up extra early this morning to finish preparing the room for today's team-building event.

  Monday mornings were always just a little hard to take, but boy, had this one come early. Not that she had any complaints about the way Lance had woken her. She could totally get used to being awakened that way every morning, given the choice.

  Unfortunately she didn't have any choice in that matter. She pushed down the sadness that already colored her day a little grayer. Knowing that she would never see Lance again made her treasure every moment, every touch, committing it all to memory for future enjoyment after the pain of missing him wore off.

  She had agreed to meet him later today for lunch, before his flight in the afternoon, unable to refuse him to his face. But she had a strong feeling that she would chicken out and just not show. She couldn't see the point of torturing herself by watching him walk through the doors of the airline terminal to the plane that would carry him out of her life and back to North Carolina, nearly as far away from her as it was possible to go and still be in the continental United States. Sure, he had mentioned something about toying with the idea of opening a new European Martial Arts studio here in Seattle, but she was grown-up enough to know better than to pin any hopes on maybe's and what-if's.

  It really was too bad. She indulged in an internal sigh. There was something about him--not just the knock-out chemistry between them--that struck a chord in her. Something that clicked into place with him, a connection she had never felt with another man.

  It didn't hurt that he was a total hottie in chain mail.

  "Thank God there's coffee."

  Jackie turned to smile at Henry, the firm's accountant as he passed her to make a bee-line for the coffee urn.

  He looked a bit rumpled this morning. "It's the only reason I keep coming to these pointless team building events of Fred's."

  Several more people filed in behind him and soon the conference room was filled with the buzz of conversation as everyone waited to see what was going to happen.

  "Hiring you was the best decision Fred ever made." Henry closed his eyes and hummed as he bit into a chocolate-frosted devil's food doughnut. He swallowed and took a sip of coffee. "Seriously, breakfast arrangements aside, this place was a mess before you whipped it into shape."

  A warm glow of pleasure settled around Jackie's heart, easing the undercurrent ache just a little. It was almost as comforting as the lacy gloves she wore under her sweater. "Thanks Henry," she said with a smile. "Hopefully he'll figure that out today and put me actually in charge, with a title and everything."

  "Where's Jackie?"

  She refused to flinch at her boss's angry tone. Turning, she watched Fred stride into the room with his usual take-no-prisoners attitude. He came to a stop in front of her, his hazel eyes flashing as he pinned her with an accusing glare.

  Jackie only barely kept herself from rolling her eyes. In his high-end Nike running suit, with his dark hair slicked back with what had to be an entire tube of gel, he looked, as always, like he was trying way too hard to look carelessly rich.

  Her arms began their familiar tingle.

  "Why weren't you downstairs?" Fred demanded.

  Standing with an untasted cup of coffee in her hand, Jackie just stared over her boss's shoulder. She was vaguely aware he had asked her a question of some kind and was waiting for a response. But for the moment there was only one thing that mattered. The tall blond man standing behind him. Conversation in the room faltered as everyone turned to stare.

  "What are you doing here?" she said, when she found her voice.

  Dimly aware that everyone in the room was watching her, Jackie struggled to pick just one question to ask from among the dozen or so that swam in her brain.

  Lance smiled at her, a full-on, sun-breaking-from-behind-the-clouds smile, complete with his trademark irresistible dimple.

  Suddenly
she didn't care why he was here. She was just glad he was.

  She smiled back. Then it hit her. All the pieces fell into place. The need for open space, the padded floor mats. Everyone being told to come to work in comfortable clothes. It made perfect sense.

  She looked at her boss for the first time. "Are you serious? We're doing European Martial Arts for our team-building event?"

  Fred frowned at her. "What's your point? I inform you on a need-to-know basis. I told you what you needed to know."

  She propped a hand on her hip and frowned at Lance. "How did I not know this?"

  He shrugged. "It never came up, I guess. This is going to be great, though." Warmth lit his eyes as he leaned a little closer. "Nice to see you too."

  "Thinking about doing a little blade work maybe?" she asked, keeping her face dead-pan serious. These guys had no idea what they were in for.

  Behind her Henry cleared his throat. "Did you say 'blade work'? I don't think I feel very comfortable with knives."

  "We'll keep it simple today," Lance said with a wink. "Just a few basics."

  Fred clapped his hands. "Okay, people. Let's get this ball rolling." Stalking to the middle of the floor, he turned to face the dozen or so employees who were watching him, doughnuts in hand.

  Planting his feet shoulder width apart with martial precision, Fred clasped his hands behind him and lifted his chin to an imperious angle.

  Lance thought it was the best Captain Kirk imitation he'd seen in years. He could tell by the glances exchanged by several of the employees that he wasn't the only one who thought so.

  "Lately it seems like everyone around here tiptoes around all day, like they are afraid of their own shadows," Fred said. "I can barely get a straight answer out of any of you when I ask about your projects. That needs to stop, people. Today, Lance here is going to teach you all how to tap into your inner warrior. You're going to become conquerors."

  Lance watched the reactions of the group to get an idea of the level of engagement or resistance he would need to deal with. Judging from the responses ranging from cringing to eye-rolling, he would have his work cut out for him.

  Oblivious to the reactions of his staff, Fred plowed on.

  "You're going to conquer your deadlines, conquer your obstacles." He jabbed his finger in the air for emphasis. "Don't let some city employee keep you on hold about zoning or permits. Convince your clients they want that bigger development.

  "Wait a minute." His brow furrowed as he looked around the room. He zeroed in on Jackie. "What did you do with the conference table?"

  "It's in your office," she said, and frowned back. "You told me to clear out this room. I didn't realize I was going to have to move that thing in pieces, but I got it done. Why?"

  "Are you telling me--" Fred spoke in a low, dangerous voice, the emphasis on each word like a fist pounding on a table. "You dismantled my twenty-thousand-dollar, custom-made, Brazilian rosewood table and moved it into my office?" A dull flush climbed into his face.

  Lance felt the anxiety level in the room go up several notches. People shifted from foot to foot, exchanging apprehensive glances.

  "Your table is fine," Jackie explained in a patient tone. "I wrapped each piece in a moving blanket, so it is totally protected. And your office was the only place big enough to put it. I'll put everything back just the way it was when we are done today."

  Lance tamped down growing irritation as he watched the exchange. Protective instincts he didn't know he possessed urged him to grab the douchebag by the throat and choke some manners into him. He mentally counted to five. He had to hand it to Jackie, she kept her cool like a pro.

  Fred closed his eyes and dramatically took several deep breaths, inhaling through his nose, and then blowing out through his mouth in a parody of yoga-like control.

  Lance wondered how often he bothered. Fortunately for him, Jackie's boss managed to find enough self-control to drop the subject for the moment.

  "Fine," he said, and rolled his shoulders in an exaggerated gesture of forced relaxation. "But you and I are going to have a serious talk later about following simple instructions." Turning his attention back to the group, he clapped his hands. "Okay people, let's get started. I'm going to turn things over to our guest, Lance Masters."

  Lance glanced at Jackie as he stepped past her to take Fred's place in the center of the room. The confused hurt on her face made him want to kill something, or at least beat it to a pulp. Preferably Fred.

  "Good morning, everyone." Lance reminded himself that he was here to teach a class. He would straighten out Jackie's boss later on his own time. "My name is Lance and I'm a certified instructor in European Martial Arts, which is basically the art of fighting as practiced by the European knights of the Holy Roman Empire. Today we're going to do a little team-building by learning some basic attack and defense techniques using a short blade, or dagger." He held up a fourteen-inch, double-edged knife made from a darkened metal, very pointed and very sharp-looking.

  And just like that, he had everyone's complete attention.

  "Wow, that is not what I would call a short blade," Henry said. "Are you sure about this?"

  Lance chuckled. "Don't worry, you'll only get foam blades to practice with."

  Murmurs of relief rippled through the group.

  This was Lance's favorite part of his job, teaching. It had long ago become a luxury, since most of his time was sucked up with the business end of starting, building up, and then selling a series of successful studios. Now that he was free of all of them, he had been taking a little time to think about what he wanted to do next.

  The obvious answer hit him now, smack between the eyes, as he stood in the middle of a Seattle conference room covered in red floor mats, and looking at the beautiful woman watching him with her heart in her eyes. He knew exactly what he wanted, and who he wanted it with. But for now, he had this class to teach.

  In short order he had everyone involved and having fun. Enlisting Jackie's aid, he demonstrated a series of simple moves that soon transformed the group from skittish observers to confident participants. He moved around the room and dispensed pointers and encouragement as everyone brandished the foam daggers he had supplied them in choreographed attacks and feints.

  Jackie's boss, Fred, stood apart from the group, taking a post beside the doughnut table. Arms crossed, feet apart, he observed the action with a critical eye. Lance sighed inwardly. Apparently Fred was one of those leaders who thought themselves above the team they were trying to build.

  "Okay, I need everyone's attention, please." Lance stepped into the center of the room once more. Everyone stopped mid-lunge, or whatever they were in the middle of, and turned to face him expectantly.

  "You've now mastered a couple of the basic moves for attacking and defending. I'm going to ask Jackie's help once more to demonstrate how to not only defend yourself, but how to turn one of the defenses I showed you into an attack."

  "Wow! This is awful! Where'd you get it, the dumpster?" Everyone's attention turned to Fred as he spat a bite of doughnut into a napkin. His features were contorted into a grimace of distaste. "If this is the best you can do, Jackie, the next time I've got an event I need planned, I'll just put the cleaning lady in charge of it."

  Jackie whirled to face her boss, hands fisted at her sides. Lance could almost hear her counting silently to ten. His guess was that this was not the first time. The thousand-and-first time was probably about right.

  General foot shuffling erupted into low murmurs around the room. Fred was getting close to crossing the too-far line with these people.

  Lance put his hands on Jackie's shoulders, giving her a quick squeeze of support. "You know," he said over her head, "I think it would be great if Fred would come out here and help demonstrate this next tactic."

  He smiled at Jackie when she turned a startled look toward him. "Yesterday I vanquished my enemy," he murmured into her ear. "Today's your turn."

  He started clapping, urgin
g the group to join him. "C'mon everybody, let's give Fred a big hand for helping."

  Visibly preening at the applause, Fred strode out to join Lance and Jackie on the mats.

  Lance smiled. He was going to enjoy this.

  After handing Fred a foam dagger, he instructed Fred and Jackie to stand about ten feet apart on the mats. Jackie shot Lance a questioning glance. He knew his answering nod was all she needed to prepare for what was coming next.

  "Okay," Lance took several big steps back from the pair. "On my go, Fred, I want you to rush at Jackie and attack her with your dagger."

  Fred arched a questioning brow at Lance. The smirk that played around his lips told Lance that the man would be more than happy to oblige the instruction to attack his unarmed female employee. Lance pushed down the urge to punch him in the face.

  Everyone was watching them, except for Henry, who had covered his face.

  Lance was pretty sure nobody was breathing. He shot a meaningful glance at Jackie.

  "A-a-and go!"

  Holding the faux-weapon overhand at about eye-level, Fred rushed at Jackie.

  Jackie tensed, ready for him. Balanced, with her feet at shoulder width, she watched Fred close the distance between them in the same move she and Lance had rehearsed for over an hour the previous evening. She would have felt sorry for Fred if she'd had time to, and if he wasn't being such a grade-A jerk.

  Lips drawn back in a feral snarl and a manic glint in his eye, Fred slashed the blade downward when he came within striking range. An audible gasp went up from the sidelines.

  But Jackie kept her focus. Lunging forward to meet him, she got her hand under his elbow and pushed up hard, grabbing his dagger-wielding hand by the wrist at the same time. Still pushing against his elbow, she mercilessly twisted his hand down and behind his back as his momentum carried him past her. Just like in practice, her opponent's nerveless fingers released his weapon, making it easy business for her to grab it and stab it into the back of his neck as he bent forward under the pressure on his arm and wrist.