by Dark, Raven
“No excuses. You can’t anticipate your opponent’s next move if you don’t watch him.”
White faced, the man nodded. “Sorry, Sensei.”
Archer yanked the student back to his feet.
“Don’t apologize, just do it right. Look away again, and you’ll be doing sit-ups for the rest of class. Clear?”
“Yes, Sensei.”
Gwen swallowed. She’d never been good with confrontation, but demanding, uncompromising men like Archer reminded her too much of her brothers and her father. She wouldn’t have been surprised if he was a Dom like Nick. How would she handle a class with someone who pushed as hard as she saw him push his students now?
Archer glanced over at her. Her heart nearly stopped. His expression was unreadable, yet she swore she felt him assessing her.
Did he recognize her? He’d seen her so rarely; he might not realize she was the sister of two of this students.
She should have worn a different suit. That morning, the three-piece brown suit had seemed sensible, appropriately nondescript. Now it felt plain and boring.
Great, she was attracted to a man who was every bit like her brothers, so much that her father approved of him. What was wrong with her? This guy was the best in the business. She couldn’t blow this.
Archer turned his attention back to his class. Again, he stopped and looked behind him. Her heart did a back flip. He raised one dark brow.
Shit, he had recognized her, hadn’t he? If her brothers knew she was here, she’d never hear the end of it.
Get out now. You’ll make an idiot of yourself. Gwen shook the thought off. She needed to toughen up, needed to take control again.
The class ended and he spoke to his students for a few minutes. Gwen’s thoughts spun too fast to take in anything beyond that gorgeous, gravelly voice.
“All right, that’s it for today. Don’t forget to practice your katas. Two hours a day. There’s a drill next week and I expect no mistakes.”
The students bowed at the waist in unison before dispersing for home.
Archer’s gaze connected with hers again. It lingered on her a fraction of a second too long. Adrenaline shot through her. She thought he chuckled.
Was it that ridiculous she was here? Insecurity took a healthy chomp out of her, but she made herself stand up. No hiding anymore.
The room cleared out and the visitors left while Archer straightened up the place. Swallowing, Gwen fisted her purse strap and marched into the middle of the room.
“Mister Drake? I…I need to talk to you, sir.”
Crap. She sounded almost as lame as when she talked to her father. She had no problem thinking of him as Archer in her head, but it never seemed right calling him that out loud. Not even when she’d seen him five years ago.
Archer turned, amusement dancing in his cool grey eyes. “Chad and Ace’s little sister, right? Gwen, isn’t it?”
Her face burned. Little sister? Ugh. She was twenty-seven, not ten.
“If you’re here to pick up Ace’s new gi, it’s not in yet.” He strode across the room in long, powerful treads and straightened some of the weapons on one wall.
“I’m not here about Ace, Mister Drake. I’m here for…” The words froze in her throat. Why was it so hard to say it?
Did she imagine the smile toying with that well-defined mouth? He cocked a brow. She lifted her chin.
“I’m here for me, sir.”
This time she knew she saw a smile, but it looked irritated. He crossed to the door that led to his office and the front room.
“Not a chance. Come on, out.”
Some of her nervousness fled on a bolt of anger. Who knew what her brothers had told him? He probably didn’t think much more of her than her family did.
Nails biting into her palms, Gwen resisted the urge to obey and leave. Anyone who was that quick to dismiss her didn’t deserve her business. But no. He was her only chance.
“I can’t do that, sir.” When his mouth tightened—at her defiance, she thought—she pushed up her glasses. “I need your help.”
Amusement and doubt openly displayed on his face, he assessed her as he returned to the middle of the room. The intensity of his gaze turned her face hot.
“Come here,” he rasped. She might have said it sounded gentle, but there was too much command in it.
Well, he certainly oozed of Dom. Something about being near him rankled her. She’d better get over that fast if she was going to have his hands all over her in practice.
Her legs turned to jelly. Those hands, everywhere.
Gwen, stop. He’s your brother’s best friend.
She gulped and walked to the middle of the room, stopping in front of him. Trying to look confident, not like she wanted to bolt.
For much too long, he watched her in silence. Had he noticed his effect on her? Get a grip, girl. “Look, I…if you’re going to just stare at me like that, I’ll…”
“Boyfriend?”
Gwen blinked at him. “Excuse me for saying so, Mister Drake, but my relationship status is no business of yours.”
Irritation hardened his eyes. “Not what I meant.” When she stiffened at his cold tone, his voice took on a patient softness. “Who hurt you? Was it your boyfriend?”
A dizzying flush raced through her. “Oh. You think I’ve been assaulted. No. Um, I’m not with anyone. And he hasn’t hit me.” Yet.
He moved in close enough she could smell his scent, pure male. His body heat pounded into her. She had to crane her neck to meet his eyes.
Jesus, those eyes. Like pools of steel. Gwen made herself keep her eyes on his face. Not that it helped. He still made her mouth water.
“He?” Why did that sound almost deadly soft? “So there is someone.”
She couldn’t keep her eyes on his anymore. Something about the knowing in his gaze sent humiliation through her. I should be able to stop it.
“It’s not your business, sir. I just came here to learn how to fight.”
“The people I train are looking to compete. I train champions. If you want to learn to defend yourself, I can recommend a beginning class for you with another teacher.”
That sounded like something her family would say. “Mister Drake…”
“Go home, Gwen. The place is closed.” He turned for the door.
The implications of what he’d said sank in. Something seized her insides in a cold, icy grip. Gwen took a hurried step after him and her own voice rang out too high in the room.
“Mister Drake, wait. Please. I…” She drew a heavy breath. “I’m being stalked.”
Archer faltered and his shoulders tightened.
Not again. Memories clawed at him and he closed his eyes. Archer’s stomach twisted and he shoved the image down. The urge to help Gwen rode him hard, and all the worse since he knew her. He’d seen her talking with her brothers before. She wasn’t able to defend herself like them. The familiarity seeded a sense of obligation to help her that refused to be ignored. No. He wouldn’t go there again.
“The police station is a few blocks over,” he said without turning to her. “I don’t do women in jeopardy, and I’m not a bodyguard.”
“I didn’t ask for your protection, Mister Drake. I asked for you to teach me, so I wouldn’t need anyone’s protection.”
A smile pulled at his mouth. Respect for her jolted through him. Spunky. She was a Stanton all right. He liked her already. Fuck.
“Sorry about your luck.” He started for the door.
She sighed. “So much for that. Nick went on and on about what a hero you are. Said you’d help. He must have been thinking of someone else.”
Nick? Archer gritted his teeth. Damn him. The next time he visited Nick he’d rip him a new one. Nick knew what Archer did and what he didn’t do. He knew his rules.
Archer turned to her, shrugging. “I never claimed to be a hero, sweet thing.”
There, that would drive her off before he could think any further about how luscious her curves were, how sweet
her voice was, how deeply the look of pain in those gorgeous green eyes cut at him.
She’d leave now, right?
“Ugh. You know, this is exactly why things like this happen. Because asshats like you refuse to step up.”
Asshat? What a mouth on her. Desire for her skyrocketed, even while his brain went into Dom mode. He could think of a hundred ways to punish her for mouthing off.
Oh, for fuck sake. She was Chad and Ace’s kid sister. Her brothers would kill him. He wasn’t scared of them, but they were his friends.
Her breathing sounded a little too fast. “You won’t help me just because I’m not some Bruce Lee hot shot? Seriously?”
“Bruce Lee is Kung Fu, sweetheart.” Her heart-shaped face reddened. Then she made an angry sound and he grinned. Damn, even with those huge Diana Prince glasses she was hot.
She dropped her arms. “I can’t believe you’re the same person Nick recommended. You can’t be that much of a jerk and be a good guy in Nick’s eyes.”
Ouch.
Hands shaking, she hurried for the door. His heart constricted for her. He’d seen enough people like her whose confidence had been shattered to know what it cost her to stand up to him.
“Wait.”
The woman turned. Hope lighted in her eyes, clutching his heart in a tight fist.
“Why didn’t you go to the cops?”
“I did.”
“What happened?”
“I told Ace. He…” She looked away. Something crossed her features, but it was gone before he could place it. “He looked into it. Said he tried to trace the calls, but they came from a burner phone. Then gave me some spiel about not expending police resources. He’s too concerned about his career to take this seriously.” Her voice trembled. “Like I can prove the creep is calling and hanging up, or watching me outside my window.” She wrung her hands.
Protectiveness screamed through him. His palms itched to clasp her hands in his and still their shaking.
“Has he threatened you or come after you?”
“He followed me last night.” Fear filled those jade green eyes. “I couldn’t see his face or his license plate. Ace brushed it off as kids playing a prank. This kind of thing doesn’t happen in small town Haven, you know.”
Archer’s brows drew together. That didn’t sound like the Ace he knew. He wished he knew a lot more about police work instead of teaching cops martial arts. Memories flashed through him again, tightening his fists. This was Kimiko all over again.
“Look, I need to do this.” She fidgeted. “He’s going to attack me again. I can feel it. The cops won’t help, so I have to learn what to do when he comes for me.”
Archer’s shoulders dropped. “Do Chad or Ace know you’re here to take classes from me?”
“N-no. They don’t, Mister Drake. And please don’t tell them. Ever.”
“Call me Archer. And why not?”
“They’d never leave me alone. They think I don’t belong in a place like this. They think—”
“All right.” He cut her off gently. “I won’t say a word.” He had a good idea what she’d been about to say. Her brothers were brutally protective of her behind her back, even if they were dicks to her face.
Damn, he wanted her. His best friend’s sister. Fucking hell.
“I’ll teach you.”
“You…you will?”
“Yes. But understand what you’re getting into, Gwen.” Her eyes widened when he stepped closer, deliberately in her space. “I am a brutal taskmaster. I demand compliance at all times. If you can’t handle it, you’re out.”
She swallowed. “I…Archer, thank…”
“Don’t thank me yet.” That innocent librarian look made it difficult to think straight. Especially when her auburn bun looked disheveled, as if someone had fisted it and she hadn’t bothered to settle it into place again.
“Yes, sir.”
“Master, Gwen.”
Her eyes widened. “Master?”
“It’s another word for sensei.”
She went fabulously pink. “Oh, right. I knew that. Yes, Master Archer.”
He wanted to grin. ‘Master’ was also a title some Doms expected their subs to use with them. He needed to be hard and unyielding. Keep her at a distance. Fuck, this was a colossally bad idea. He was gonna kill Nick.
“Be here Friday night at nine, after the last class. And be on time. I don’t tolerate excuses.”
He left the room without giving her a chance to reply.
3
A Brother’s Duty
“You saw him?”
Gwen looked up. She’d been so absorbed in her thoughts, she hadn’t noticed Nick had poked his head into her office. “Pardon?”
Nick walked into the room, a playful smirk on his strong face. “Archer Drake. Did you talk to him?”
Irritation pricked at her, remembering her discussion with Archer. She’d never met a man with a more forceful, commanding presence.
Gwen took a file to the overstuffed cabinet in the corner. “I saw him, sir.” She jerked open the drawer, slapped a file inside, and shoved the drawer closed.
Nick chuckled. “Well?”
It was so much easier to dismiss her boss’s questions when he was dressed in his surgeon scrubs and white coat instead of black leather. Nick was too imposing to argue with in Dom mode.
“Gwen?” Nick drawled when she didn’t answer.
She met his eyes. At least looking at him didn’t make her cheeks heat. “He’s going to teach me.”
Nick sat on the edge of her desk. “Perfect. Told you he’d help you.”
Why did he look so triumphant? “He almost didn’t. I had to beg him.”
“Well—”
A knock on the club’s back door cut Nick off. He crossed the room to a short hallway that led to the door.
Another man’s voice drifted in. “Delivery for Miss Stanton.”
Nick returned carrying an oblong white box with a red ribbon around it. He handed her the box with a smirk. “Care to share?”
Gwen opened the package and scrunched her brows at the long-stemmed red roses inside. “Who..?”
“Two dozen.” Nick whistled. “The last time I bought that many roses for Zoe was our last wedding anniversary.”
But something unpleasant coiled in Gwen’s belly. “I don’t have… no one would send me flowers.”
“Is there a card?”
She looked through the box and pulled out a small white card. “‘Your Secret Admirer.’” She shuddered and closed the box.
Nick took her shoulders gently. “Gwen, they might not be from him. They could be—”
Her phone blared, making Gwen jump.
“Hello?”
Dead air.
“Hello?”
Click.
Heart pounding, Gwen closed her eyes. The roses. She steadied herself on the desk. Nick gripped her arms, a strong, firm hold. Gratitude for his friendship and support filled her.
“You have to call the police.”
A bitter laugh escaped her. “I—”
A horn honked and Gwen looked out the mullioned window at the back lot. She could just make out Ace’s black Honda in the early evening darkness. Dread flooded her. After her last conversation with her brother, she wasn’t in the mood to talk to him.
“Nick, I gotta go.” She squeezed his arm and headed for the back door.
“What do you want to do with the roses?”
“I don’t know yet. Leave them there for now, I guess.” Maybe she could get Ace to look at them. Though after last night, she wouldn’t hold her breath.
“All right. Walk you out?”
“Sure.”
Gwen followed him out the back entrance of the club, and the heavy steel door clanked shut. It didn’t go unnoticed that her brother had parked his car almost at the other end of the sparsely populated lot, as if to keep as much distance from himself and the club as possible.
Ace flashed Nick a disapproving
look. Yeah, she could just imagine what he thought. Ace’s closed-minded views were typical of conservative Haven. Most of those who were aware of the club saw it as something shameful and corrupt, a magnet for people wrong in the head, and Nick Kincaid was the Devil incarnate, sucking in innocent people like Gwen, who was too naïve to know she was being tainted by working for him.
Old Anton Gruber would roll over in his grave if he saw what his precious commune had become in the hundred years since he’d died. Some said that when he founded the town of Haven, Gruber had claimed Mount Seraph protected those who lived a Godly life, a life free from evil. A lot of people in this town were descendants of the founder’s original parishioners, so it was no surprise that those who were aware of the club would have disowned anyone they knew who frequented it. Funny how no one here minded accepting the revenue the club brought into the town.
According to Nick, he’d named the club The Sanctuary because he saw it as a safe place for those in the lifestyle to explore their kink free from the judgment that permeated most of Haven.
Nick took in Ace’s scowl. “He doesn’t like me much, does he?” He turned and waved at Ace as if he were an old friend, raising his voice so Ace could hear him. “Evening, Officer Stanton. You’re welcome to come in and play anytime.”
Gwen’s mouth dropped and her face paled, even while a laugh threatened to bubble up. Especially when Ace’s face turned livid and he muttered something darkly. “Nick. Jesus.”
Her boss snorted and grinned at her. “Sorry. Tight-assed people piss me off. If Zoe was out here, I’d have really played it up.”
If Zoe had been there, she could just imagine what he would have done. As a D/s couple, Nick and Zoe gave regular lessons at the club on how a healthy BDSM relationship worked. Which meant they knew exactly how to play to people’s fears and misconceptions.
She gave him a sympathetic look. “Sorry. My brother is a professional asshole. He doesn’t know how to be anything else.”
“Don’t be sorry. His actions are not your responsibility.” He took her hands. “Gwen, please be careful. Zoe and I love you. We’re worried about you.”
Affection for him welled in her. “I know. I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”