Chapter Nine
Aurelia
On Monday, the doors of the elevator open to reveal Luke sitting in reception, waiting for me. He looks up and gets to his feet, and I cross the lobby to stand in front of him.
I didn’t see him over the weekend. I spent most of it at my parents’ home, and as they have good security there already, and I guess the guy needs time off sometimes, Stacy drove me there and back.
She’s rather dour, and clearly prefers to concentrate on the road rather than chat to me, so I ended up looking out of the window or reading my phone, and trying not to miss Luke’s easy banter and wry humor.
I need to get over this ridiculous schoolgirl crush I appear to be developing, if he’s going to be my CPO for a significant amount of time.
It’s tough when you spend lots of time together, but he’s obviously determined not to give in to any feelings he may or may not be developing for me, and if I carry on the way I have, I’m going to embarrass myself.
I cringe every time I remember asking him to kiss me on New Year’s Eve, and his firm no.
It’s one reason why I agreed to a date with Ivan.
I like him—he’s young, funny, energetic, and ambitious, and at any other time, I’d genuinely have been interested in getting to know him better.
I’m conscious that right now, my motive for dating him is to show myself—and Luke—that other men are interested in me and I’m not obsessing about him.
Even if I am. Even if I keep dreaming about him and fantasizing about what it would be like to kiss him. Even if I’m getting goose bumps right now at the way he’s looking at me.
“Ready, ma’am?” he asks in his dry, formal way.
“Yes, sir.”
He lifts an eyebrow and gives me a warning look.
“What?” I ask innocently.
Mumbling something, he walks off toward the gym.
I follow with a small smile. I agreed to let him show me some moves because I was genuinely alarmed by the way Dom grabbed my wrist and refused to let go, and I would’ve liked to have been able to get out of his grasp myself.
I’m small, and a woman, and I’m sure men think of me as an easy target, so I’m looking forward to feeling a little less insecure if I’m out on my own—not that that is likely to happen at the moment, with Mr. Super Glue stuck to me at all times.
But I also had an ulterior motive. Although I understood why he didn’t kiss me, I’m a woman, and it still pissed me off that he was able to resist me when I was doing my best to be sultry. So, secretly, I also hoped that being up close and personal with him might push his buttons.
Unfortunately, Luke announces that lesson one will be about Situation Awareness, which doesn’t sound interesting at all. We stand beside the mats, so he’s clearly not intending to get intimate.
“What’s the first rule of self-defense?” he asks.
“Kick him in the balls?”
“No… being aware of your surroundings. Predators look for distracted victims.”
“Are we talking about stalkers or lions?”
“Are you going to concentrate?”
“Yes, sir.”
He puts his hands on his hips and studies the floor for a moment. I try not to smirk.
Eventually, he looks back up at me. “I want you to remember the mnemonic SAFE. S: Scan your surroundings. A: Avoid distractions. F: Follow your instincts. And E…”
“’Edbutt him?”
He glares at me. “Do you want to do this or not?”
I fight not to laugh. He lifts his eyebrows, though, not looking in the least bit amused. Eventually, I clear my throat. “I do. Sorry. I apologize.”
“E,” he repeats. “Exit if something feels wrong. Repeat it to me, please.”
I repeat the mnemonic back.
“Good girl,” he says. His eyes meet mine for just a second, and they hold a touch of amusement.
Shit. The bastard’s giving as good as he gets.
“You need to be alert,” he elaborates. “Don’t wear headphones while walking alone.
Keep your phone accessible. If you think someone’s following you, trust your instincts. Go into a shop, and call for help.”
“I’ll feel like an idiot if I’m wrong, though.”
“Better that than being kidnapped.”
My eyebrows rise. “Kidnapped?” I laugh.
But his face remains serious. “It’s a real possibility, and you don’t want to put your father in that position. Imagine what would happen if someone took you and sent Edward photos of you bound and gagged, and demanding five million dollars to release you? What do you think he’d do?”
That sobers me. I know he’d send the money immediately.
Realization settles over me like cool morning mist. I’ve been making fun of Luke and Marcus, scoffing at their talk of protection, wrapped up in my own life, where most people are nice and kind.
I haven’t given a thought to the fact that in the real world, people exist who wouldn’t think twice about doing something against the law if it meant getting their hands on a significant amount of money. Jesus, I’m so na?ve.
My fear must show on my face, because Luke says, “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen to you while I’m around. I didn’t mean to frighten you. I just want you to realize that being able to protect yourself is always a good thing.”
I nod and swallow hard. “I’m sorry.”
His expression softens. “So, what’s SAFE?”
“Scan the surroundings. Avoid distractions. Follow my instincts. Exit if I’m worried.”
“Good. And if that doesn’t work, then kick him in the balls.”
That makes me laugh and breaks the tension. “Okay.”
“Come on,” he says. “Let’s try some basic moves.” He moves toward the mat.
I follow him, and we stand three feet apart, facing each other.
“Men are always going to be bigger and stronger than you,” he says. “You’ll never win in an out-and-out fight. So you’ve got to be smart. First, I’m going to show you how to get away if a man grabs your wrist.”
“Because that’s what Dom did to me?”
He shrugs, but I know that’s why he suggested it. “I don’t like the thought of anyone holding you against your will,” he states. His gaze flicks to mine briefly before he looks away.
I still don’t know exactly what he and Dom discussed when Luke went to his office, but his words make me frown. What did Dom tell him, exactly?
“If someone grabs you here…” Luke moves closer and takes hold of my wrist. “You need to locate the weak spot here.” He gestures at the small opening where his thumb meets his fingers.
“You’re going to aim to move the narrowest part of your wrist through this gap.
” He demonstrates how to rotate toward the attacker’s thumb and pull free. “Now you try it.”
I give it a go. And fail miserably. God, he’s so strong. I remember the way Dom held me, and panic flares inside me.
Luke must see the look on my face, because he immediately lets go. “Tell me if you want me to stop, okay?”
“No, I want to keep going. I want to know how to do this.”
“Okay.” He moves behind me and tucks my elbow against my ribs.
“Use your core weight, not bicep strength. You’re going to step inward, like this.
” He maneuvers me, holding my hips and showing me how to twist. “If his grip is loose, you’ll literally just snap your arm up or down right through the thumb gap. ”
“What if it’s tight?”
“Clamp your free hand onto your own trapped fist like this.” He takes my other wrist in his and lifts my hand onto the other one. “Then use both hands together to pull violently back toward your chest or shoulder to break free.” He jerks them back, bringing me against his chest.
Gosh, he’s so big, and his chest is warm against my back. His arms are practically around me. And he smells so nice. Mmm.
“Can you show me again?” I ask innocently.
“Sure.” He keeps his arms around me and runs through the steps again.
When he’s done, I say, “One more time?”
He hesitates, and then he looks down at me. I lift my eyebrows, and his lips curve up. “Concentrate,” he scolds, releasing me and circling to stand in front of me. “This is important.”
Sighing, I stand with feet apart and brace myself.
“Okay,” he says, “slow motion first. Show me how to do it.” He closes his left hand around my right wrist.
I show him how I’d step inward and tug my arm down and out of his grip.
“Good,” he says. “Now, if it was tighter.”
Slowly, I rotate my hips, put one hand on top of the other, and pull both toward me.
“Perfect,” he says. “Okay, let’s do it for real.”
This time, when he grabs my wrist, his grip is firm but still loose enough so that when I immediately yank my hand down, I can break free. I feel a swell of pleasure at my success.
“Good,” he says. “Again.” This time his grip is tighter, locked around my wrist.
I wince. “Ouch.”
“Sorry.” He doesn’t loosen his grip, though.
I step toward him, rotate inward, and tug my arm toward me, but it doesn’t break his grip.
“You’re too strong,” I complain, feeling another bubble of panic. “I’d never be able to break free if a guy did this.”
“You’re not really trying. Go for it, girl. You won’t hurt me.”
I look up into his eyes. They’re warm, but his gaze is firm—he means what he says.
Steadying my feet again, I brace myself, then step forward and tug. It doesn’t work.
“Is that all you’ve got?” He taunts me. “Girls are so weak and wussy.”
Anger flares inside me. Dom loved proving how he was so much stronger than me, and it always irritated the hell out of me.
I brace, step forward, and this time I use my whole body to yank my arm toward me. It breaks his grip, and I step back, surprised.
“Good,” he says. “Again.”
He makes me go through it half a dozen times. Now that I understand how I need to use my weight, not my arm muscles, I break his grip nearly every time.
“Excellent.” He nods with satisfaction. “So, what do you do after that?”
I mime knocking out his legs, throwing him to the floor, and pointing a gun at him with both hands. “If you move, motherfucker,” I yell, “I’ll blow you to kingdom come.”
He rolls his eyes. “This isn’t Pulp Fiction. Plus, keep your voice down. People are looking.”
I blow a raspberry, sliding the imaginary gun into a fictional holster. “I want you to show me how to take him down.”