by Jill Shalvis
and not understood that much of that easygoing and laid-back nature was only skin-deep, that no matter what he showed the general public he was actually intensely private and quite closed off.
She figured the mock engagement, and then the supposed cancellation of said engagement—leaving him “wounded” and needing some alone time—worked for him.
“Come on,” he said, leading her down a set of stairs to a basement. “We’d better start before you change your mind and run out on me.”
She was already beginning to sweat. “I don’t run.” Liar, liar. “But I could use that tequila shot now.”
“Be good,” he said, “and I’ll get you something after. Sol used to serve us tea when he was kicking our butts.”
“Tea’s only good if it comes with cookies.”
He laughed. “Tea’s good never.”
“Sounds like Sol was a sweet man.”
“He was two hundred and fifty pounds, and six feet four inches of solid muscle. He was also ex-marine, and didn’t know a smile from his own ass. He wasn’t sweet, but he was . . . everything else. At least to us.”
The basement was completely finished and had been turned into a gym. Equipment was lined on one wall, a treadmill, elliptical trainer, a selection of machines with a large maximum-load capacity, and free weights were in front of a bank of mirrors. Along one side, across from the riders, was a large padded mat area, as well as a huge flat-screen TV and entertainment center mounted on a wall. Music was blasting out of it. “The man cave,” she said. Feeling a little intimidated, she pulled off her sweatshirt. She hadn’t been sure what to wear but had settled on yoga pants and a tank top.
Dell aimed the remote at the entertainment system and the music cut. He tossed the remote aside and took her to the mats in front of the mirrors. “Anyone can learn this, I promise.”
She nodded, hoping that was true. “Like you learned it.”
“There’s something about getting your ass handed to you daily that motivates you.”
She looked around, curious. “How many women have you brought down here to . . . help train?”
She expected him to laugh, or at least give off a wicked smile, but he slowly shook his head, his warm brown eyes even on hers. “None.”
“Come on. The way you date?”
“I’ve never brought a woman to my house.”
“Ever?”
“Ever. And you’re stalling. Step onto the mat.”
She touched it with her toe. “Usually a guy buys me dinner first.”
He held out his hand for hers, eyes steady. Calm. “Come on now, tough girl,” he said in the same tone she’d heard him use on a wild stallion just before horse-whispering the thing into a puddle of goo.
She wasn’t a puddle of goo yet, but she followed his soft command and reached for his hand. “Where do we start?” Her voice didn’t sound as confident as she’d have liked. Being in Dell’s very nice arms to be kissed was one thing. And a very nice thing. Being there to try to escape wasn’t nearly so nice. It was claustrophobic and terrifying. He was big, bigger than either of the two men who’d held her that long ago night.
“Let’s finish teaching you how to break out of a hold from behind,” he said, going directly to the source of her anxiety without passing Go.
She nodded and he moved behind her, and this time when his arms came around her, she was prepared.
Or so she told herself.
But he was built like a wall of granite, and her breath hitched. “I know,” he said. “But remember. Let the adrenaline work in your favor.” His voice was low and steady, and she nodded.
But this hold was different. He had one forearm banded tight around her waist like before, but the other was at her throat and she didn’t have the mobility to get him with a head butt.
Plus there was the added rush of it being Dell, not a bad guy. Dell, with his familiar scent and voice . . . and confusing emotions, battered her.
Fear.
Excitement.
Panic.
Arousal.
“Turn your chin toward my elbow,” he said. “Force it down to relieve the pressure against the side of your neck so that you don’t go unconscious if the pressure increases. Then you stomp the shit out of his insole with your heel. If you can, reach over your shoulder and poke out his eyes. Or, if your arms are pinned too low, like I’ve got you now, grab and twist his nuts.”
“What?”
“Trust me, that’s the most effective tool in your arsenal. He’ll drop like a stone.”
“Have you thought about any possible future children you’re risking?”
“Well, maybe you could skip the twist part.” He tightened his grip, signaling that he wasn’t going to let her slip into brevity. “You want to make it so that they can’t see, can’t breathe, and hopefully can’t run after you.”
“Dell.” She gripped his forearm, the one over her throat, her legs trembling.
“I’ve got you, Jade. I promise. Nothing bad is going to happen to you here. Ever.”
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I’m shaking.”
“Don’t be sorry. You know I’ll stop if that’s what you want.”
She closed her eyes and tried to collect herself.
“Jade?”
“No. Don’t stop.” She drew a deep breath. “Do you really want me to stomp on your foot and attempt to poke your eyes out?”
“Yes.”
She closed her eyes again, drew in yet another bolstering breath, and stomped the shit out of his foot. When his arms fell away from her, she whirled and took a step back.
But he didn’t drop like a stone. He came at her and grabbed her again, from the front this time. Suddenly she was up against him in a tight embrace, her chest, belly and thighs pressed to his. Completely overwhelmed, she gasped.
“Backing away was good,” he said. “But you stopped. Never stop. Because once you do, you have to be prepared to fight, in which case you need to be either two arm lengths away from him—outside of his kicking range—or all the way in tight against him. Anything in between is leaving yourself too open. If you can, run. Fucking run for the hills and scream for help while you’re at it. You okay?”
She nodded, all she could manage.
“Good,” he said. “Couple of ways to get out of this. A knee to the groin works. Move fast and hard. Follow it up with a kick to the guy’s knee or lower abs if you can reach them. Kick straight ahead using the bottom of your foot like you’d kick in a door. If he somehow manages to come at you again, use your elbow and smash him in the face, throat, or neck. Then back to your standby option—run like hell.”
She was doing her best to stand there flat up against him and be casual, but she was so incredibly aware of every inch of him that she couldn’t find an ounce of casual. “Dell,” she whispered, and dropped her head to his chest.
“Okay, it’s okay,” he said, mistaking her distress. His warm exhale tickled her ear as his arms loosened. “Breathe, Jade. Then think. What’s your first move?”
She breathed as ordered, then came up with her knee.
He deflected enough that she grazed his thigh, but he still went down to his knees.
It worked. Holy shit, it really worked. Shocked, she covered her mouth and stared down at him.
As he had earlier, he lifted his head and flashed her a grin. “Nice. Except you forgot to scream and run like hell.”
Before she could move, he’d grabbed her and tugged her down to the mat, pinning her beneath him. Taking her hands in his, he yanked them over her head and peered into her eyes. “First,” he said. “Remember. It’s just me. Second . . .”
She came up with her knee.
“Yes!” he said, deftly rolling aside and coming up on an elbow with another dazzling smile, by which time she’d run across the room, away from him. “See? You’re a natural.”
He spent the next two hours putting her through the paces. And that night, she slept like the living dead, with on
ly the weight of Beans on her chest instead of the usual ball of anxiety.
By the end of the next day, they’d seen forty patients, among them seven-week-old Rhodesian ridgeback puppies, a four-year-old shih tzu with colitis, a basset hound with OCD, and a bunny who had nothing wrong with him other than he was owned by Mrs. Wycoff, who was old and very lonely.
Dell healed them all with equal ease.
Oh, to wield that power, Jade thought. Good thing he had no idea exactly how much power he had. She began to close up. “Peanut want a cracker?” she asked the parrot.
She’d been trying to teach Peanut to say the sentence “Peanut want a cracker” to distract the parrot from saying “boner” at inopportune times. But Peanut was pretending to be mute today.
Jade was just about ready to switch to the phone service for the night when the phone rang, so she grabbed it.
“Hello, Jade. It’s Melinda. Is Dell in?”
Melinda ran a thirty-thousand-acre ranch up north. It was one of the ranching accounts Dell had added now that Brady had fixed up their Bell 47 chopper to fly to farther locations. Dell went to Melinda’s ranch one Saturday a month, where he tended to her animals’ care.
And, according to the rumor mill, he attended to Melinda’s care as well.
Dell was in his office with Brady, and his office phone line was lit. “He’s on the other line,” Jade said.
“No problem, I’ll call him on his cell later tonight. Let him know I’m ready for him tomorrow.”
“Sure.” And if Melinda could say “ready” with more sex in her voice, that would be just freaking fantastic. “Will do.” Jade forced herself to hang up calmly. “I’m ready for him tomorrow,” she mocked in a sex kitten voice.
“Ah. Melinda.”
Jade nearly fell out of her chair and Bessie the cleaning lady cackled good and hard over that. “She does seem to have her hooks out for him, doesn’t she?”
“I . . . I didn’t notice.”
Bessie cackled again. “And I hardly noticed that lovely shade of green on you, dear.”
“I’m not jealous.”
“Of course not.” Bessie looked pointedly at the message Jade had written and crumpled. “Don’t worry. Your secret crush on the doc is safe with me.”
“Crush on the doc,” Peanut said.
Jade glared at the parrot. “What?”
“Boner.”
Jade stood up and pointed at her. “You can’t say ‘Peanut wants a cracker,’ but you can say ‘crush on the doc’ and ‘boner’ ? Are you kidding me?”
“Crush on the doc! Crush on the doc!”
Bessie laughed so hard that Jade thought she’d cough up a lung right there, but she went back to sweeping. Jade narrowed her eyes at Peanut.
“Pretty Peanut,” Peanut whispered.
Jade sighed and went to work, fantasizing about her next self-defense session and kicking Dell’s very fine ass. She was halfway there, picturing taking him to the floor and . . . and what? She had lots of options, as he’d taught her.
Kicking.
Hitting.
Jabbing.
But there was something wrong with her brain. It wouldn’t go there. Instead, she imagined dropping him to the mat and . . .
Stripping him. Stretching out over the top of him and . . .
Eating him up like a hot buttered biscuit.
Dammit. Now she was heated up herself and having a hot flash to boot. She fanned the air in front of her face, which didn’t help.
“So . . .” Lilah said at her side, making Jade jump. “What’s got you all hot and bothered?”
Bessie came through with her broom again. “Ask Peanut.”
“Crush on the doc,” Peanut said.
Jade closed her eyes.
“Fascinating,” Lilah said. “That I have to learn from a parrot? You’ve been holding out on me.”
“Don’t be ridiculous. Peanut has no idea what she’s saying.”
“Boner,” Peanut said.
Lilah grinned. “Okay,” she said to Jade. “Start at the beginning and leave nothing out. Tell me what’s up.”
“The temperature, dammit. Too many bodies in here.”
Lilah’s gaze slid across the room to where Dell and Brady had come out from the back. Dell’s gaze tracked directly to Jade.
“Uh-huh,” Lilah said.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Jade whispered. “But stop it. So there’s a little sexual tension in the room between Dell and me, it’s nothing. Nothing. In fact, picturing him as old and flabby right now. Flatulent. And see? I’m cooler already.”
“I was going to suggest turning down the thermostat.”
“Or that,” Jade muttered to Lilah’s laugh.
The next day, Jade got an e-mail attachment from Dell—a spreadsheet to-do list with only one thing on it.
Training session #2 tonight. My house, seven o’clock.
There was a code, too. The key code to his front door, she realized. She wouldn’t have to knock, she could go right in.
Which is why he’d given it to her, of course, so she wouldn’t get there and while standing on his porch waiting to be let in, change her mind.
But she couldn’t just let herself in. Could she? Besides, he’d been gone all day, up north at Melinda’s.
He wasn’t spending the night up there?
She showed up at his house exactly on time and after some hesitation, entered the code and let herself in.
Dell was in his kitchen, staring into his refrigerator, which had not magically filled itself. It’d been a hell of a long day at Melinda’s ranch, and he was dead on his feet.
Normally he spent the night up north. Usually with Melinda. She was smart, funny, and beautiful, and with two ex-husbands, she wasn’t looking for anything more than a good time. No harm, no foul.
But last month he’d had Brady fly him home the same day as well.
He’d repeated the pattern today, marking two full months of dateless Saturday nights for him.
A first.
He heard his front door open and Jade’s footsteps coming through the living room. He knew without looking that she was wearing her Nikes, which she wore only for him. For the rest of the world she wore designer heels or boots.
He liked her stripped down to casual. To what he thought was the real Jade beneath the glamorous veneer. He liked that he alone saw her this way. Not that he could explain to himself why.
“Thought you had a date tonight,” she said, appearing in his doorway.
“My date’s you.” He shut the refrigerator. “I can make you dinner after you finish wiping the mat with me.”
He added her quick smile to the list of things that he liked,