Sarai's Fortune

by Abigail Owen

  But, more importantly, she was also clearly trained. At the moment she was practicing a series of kicks, punches, and countermoves with the dummy. She was fast, deft, and accurate, the moves ingrained into muscle memory. Zac held in a growl. Andie had never said anything about Sarai knowing martial arts. He didn’t like to be surprised.

  But, as he watched Sarai run through her exercises, his frustration quickly morphed into fascination. She was fast. So fast, that often he didn’t see her move until she’d struck. Her movements were fluid, graceful, and, based on the impact to the dummy, deceptively forceful.

  He stood there, unnoticed, while her concentration was fully on her movements. He watched for the next half-hour as she worked her body hard. Finally, she turned away from the dummy with a grin. “Too bad we don’t have a place where I can—”

  She cut herself off when she saw Zac standing there. Her smile disappeared. “I…didn’t realize you were back,” she finally said. She walked over to where he stood and grabbed a towel off a stack on the table. “How’d it go today?”

  “Good.”

  “What was it exactly?”

  “We’re selling some of the land we own here. Just working through some of the details.”

  “Oh.” She bent down to pull a chilled bottle of water out of a small fridge and took a long swig. “Why?”

  Zac watched a bead of sweat roll down her neck, over her chest, between the swells of her breasts. After seeing her in only very conservative clothes, this sudden display of skin was damn sexy. With effort he pulled his eyes back to her face. He recognized diversionary tactics when he saw them and wouldn’t be distracted from getting the information he wanted. “Where’d you learn to fight like that?”

  She raised her eyebrows. “Where do you think?”

  He should have figured. Andie was Sarai’s best friend and one of the best fighters he’d ever met. “She never told me you had fighting skills.”

  “Well…it was a secret. She risked her life teaching me. She said I needed to be able to defend myself.”

  “She was right. What style was that?” Andie was an expert at multiple forms of hand-to-hand combat, thought she preferred the more acrobatic, brutal method of Krav Maga. What Sarai had just been doing was something else entirely.

  “That was mostly wing chung, a type of kung fu. Or, more specifically, it was Jeet Kune Do.”

  Zac tipped his head to the side. “Bruce Lee’s fighting style?”

  Sarai confirmed his question with a brief nod. “It’s a more fluid, adaptive methodology with less prescribed movement.”

  “How often do you train?”

  “Daily when I can. We hid this from Carstairs, so that hasn’t always been possible. I’ve been taking advantage of my newfound freedom at the Keller Dare since I’ve been there.”

  He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. “I never saw you.”

  “I still practiced very early in the morning.” She lifted a single shoulder in a shrug. “Some habits are hard to break,” she muttered.

  Zac nodded. “How do you do sparring?”

  A fair question. Some people were very technically proficient but lost all focus when faced with reacting to other fighter’s movements. Sarai said nothing for a moment.

  She glanced at George and Scott. “I don’t spar.”

  She was holding back again. Over the last few weeks, he’d come to realize that when her answers got short, or evasive, she was hiding something. He looked at her thoughtfully for a long moment. “Why? No one available?”

  She took another swig of water. Instead of answering she said, “You mind if we head upstairs. I need to shower before I start on dinner.”

  “Sure.” The four of them headed toward the elevators.

  “So…why no sparring?” he prompted while they waited for the doors to open.

  Sarai’s lips thinned. She glanced toward George and Scott again. “No one wanted to risk a Seer’s neck,” she said finally.

  Zac rocked back on his heels. She obviously didn’t want to talk about it with an audience. Okay. Then he’d approach her later, alone. “Fair enough.”

  The elevator doors slid silently open letting them move inside.

  Zac noticed how Sarai stepped well away from him as they entered. Prompted by some devilry that made him want to test a theory, Zac followed her, standing perhaps a little closer than was necessary. They had plenty of room in the large elevator car, but he placed himself directly beside her, crowding her a bit. She threw him a startled glance before facing forward.

  Zac watched her intently out of the corner of his eye. Did he make her uncomfortable? He shifted slightly closer and noticed as she took a small step away.

  The elevator stopped at the first floor, where several people got on. Zac inched even closer to Sarai. She bumped her elbow into the wall as she tried to step back. He heard her muffled oomf and had to hold back a chuckle. She was definitely trying to keep her distance. The question was why? Was she intimidated? Scared? Attracted? Why did that thought have his body jumping to attention?

  They stopped at a mid-floor to let the other riders off.

  “What were you saying when you stopped practicing?” George asked. “Too bad we don’t have a place for you to…what?”

  Zac lowered his arms to his sides in a casual move. He felt Sarai tense beside him as his right hand just barely brushed against her left.

  “Oh…nothing,” she muttered. She crossed her arms, effectively taking her hand away from his touch, though not before he felt her shiver.

  Very interesting indeed.

  “You looked too excited for it to be nothing,” George said, unaware of the subtle byplay going on between them.

  The elevator doors opened at their floor and she was out in a flash. Zac could practically hear the deep breath she sucked in once free of his stifling presence. What was going on with her?

  “It was silly.” Sarai shook her head as she answered George.

  Jeez, this woman was stubborn when she wanted to be.

  “Sarai—” Zac started as he unlocked the door to go into their apartment.

  “I really like the training dummy, though,” she cut him off. “Nice to have that down there. Jaxon also has some really nice facilities, which I enjoyed. At least I’ll be able to keep up with some of it here.” Then she high-tailed it to her room, leaving the three men staring in her wake.

  “I think you make her nervous, boss,” Scott said.

  Zac scowled. “Why do you say that?”

  The younger shifter glanced at George, who only raised his eyebrows. “She acts a lot more…errr…skittish when you’re around.”

  Zac looked at George, who shrugged. The older man’s version of agreement.

  “Hmmm,” was all he said. “Well, next time she goes to the gym, let me know,” he instructed.

  He damn sure was going to be there. He wanted to find out the real reason why she didn’t want to spar. That comment about not risking a Seer’s neck hadn’t rung true. Besides, it wouldn’t hurt to do a little proximity therapy with her as well. They were going to be in each other’s pockets for the foreseeable future. She needed to get used to him. Trust was important in this relationship.

  And, for some unknown reason, important to Zac personally.

  He wanted her trust.

  CHAPTER 11

  Sarai gritted her teeth in frustration. Catching George’s discerning gaze on her, she quickly changed the grimace to a smile as she examined yet another incomprehensible piece of artwork she didn’t care a whit about.

  She’d just spent the entire day wandering the streets and shops of Manhattan with her two new best buddies on her heels. She’d gone out today with the intention of figuring out her plan of escape from the city. Getting out of the hotel, or away from her shadows at all, was really the bigger problem. Today had shown her exactly how difficult that would be. She’d tried to lose Scott and George accidentally on purpose. A couple of times.

  She’d
attempted to ditch them in the masses crossing an intersection at Times Square. An impressive place with all its digital signage and constant bustle. She’d changed direction, trying to double back, but George managed to stick with her. When he’d caught up to her on the corner, she’d told him her earring had fallen out and she’d gone back to get it.

  At Macy’s she’d bored them to tears as she’d spent an inordinate amount of time at the clothes racks. Then she left the store without them, had even managed to get a few steps away from the door. George found her again. She pretended she’d been looking for them.

  Now they were at the one of the many museums in the city. Modern art was not her thing for the most part, but she feigned interest anyway. When she felt her bodyguards were suitably distracted, Sarai slipped into another large, open room, ostensibly to look at more paintings hung on stark white walls. This time she timed how long it took them to find her. Less than a minute passed before George showed up—not much of a window.

  Dammit. How the hell was she going to get away from these guys?

  George moved to stand beside her. As they stared at the particularly sepia-toned Picasso, Sarai sighed. “I never was much of a Picasso fan,” she murmured.

  She glanced at George and saw his mustache shift with his smile.

  “Me…I like a picture that makes me happy and it’s obvious what I’m looking at,” he said.

  “Me too.”

  “Then why in tarnation did you drag us here?” He tipped his chin, indicating the room they were in.

  “Oh, don’t worry. We’ll hit some other museums another day. This one was closest. Besides, it’s still interesting. Broaden your mind, and all that.”

  He raised a single eyebrow.

  “Oh, come on. You know you loved the Van Gogh exhibit.”

  “Hmmmm.” He looked at her with a narrow-eyed gaze. “Want to tell me what you’re up to?”

  “Up to?” Sarai did her best to look mildly confused. After years of hiding her emotions, she was surprised when he didn’t bite.

  “Yup. Up to. I’m pretty sure you’re not as ditsy as you’re making out. I just can’t figure why you’d want to lose us.”

  “I don’t want to lose you, George,” she assured him. She smoothed down the khaki pencil skirt she was wearing in an unconscious gesture of nerves. That, at least, was the truth. She didn’t want to run away, she had to. There was no other choice—there was a world of difference between the two.

  Sarai sighed again. “Well, I won’t torture you any longer today.” She checked her watch. “It’s getting late anyway, and I’d like to get dinner started.”

  George’s dark eyes lit up. “You cooking for us again tonight?”

  Sarai smiled. “I thought I might.”

  After two nights of letting the men cook, Sarai realized she’d eat much better if she took over.

  “Don’t feel like you have to, but I was hoping you’d say that.”

  With that, he and Scott ushered her out of the building and the few blocks back to the apartment. Once there, Sarai stowed the few items she’d bought during their day. Zac had given her a credit card. She’d balked at first, until he’d explained it was from Andie, a “salary” for her “work” as a liaison to the polar bear shifters. Sarai was grateful for the small amount of independence that gave her. Not to mention access to more options to escape.

  She went to her room to change into her comfiest jeans and an Elvis t-shirt. Usually she didn’t wear clothes like this in front of anyone but Andie. However, the apartment was ostensibly her home. Besides, she’d gotten sick of being all buttoned up all the time.

  Sighing with relief, she headed to the kitchen and whipped up a casserole, leaving it to bake on low heat. Then she headed to her private sunroom for some time alone. She brought her new e-reader but knew she wouldn’t read a word. She needed to think about her next steps—especially given what she’d learned today.

  She was staring through the windows at the silver glass of the buildings all around her, lost in thought, when a deep voice made her jump.

  “Good book?” Zac asked. “Or another vision?”

  Damn. How did he always know? Sarai forced away the flutter of desire that shimmered across her skin at the sound. She found his voice to be incredibly sexy. But attraction was not an option.

  She glanced down at the device in her lap, which had turned itself off. “A bit of both actually.”

  “I see.” He waved at the empty chair. “May I?”

  “Of course.”

  Sarai resisted the urge to scoot her heavy iron chair away as Zac dragged his own closer before sitting down. She watched silently as he looked around at the view. Not for the first time, she acknowledged just how good looking this man was. Something about his rugged face just appealed to her. As simple as that. He was a man’s man. She never thought she’d be attracted to the type, but here she sat, secretly salivating.

  After taking a good look around, Zac turned his eyes her way. “So…”

  Sarai raised her eyebrows and waited for him to continue.

  “Why are you trying to ditch your guards?”

  Sarai suppressed an inner sigh. Gee, thanks George, she thought.

  “I’m not.” She cringed inwardly as his lips compressed. Even after this short a time with him, she knew that wasn’t a good sign.

  “So that’s your answer?”

  She spread her hands wide. “I don’t have another one.”

  For a brief moment, she thought she saw a flash of disappointment cross his features. Zac abruptly stood up, his chair scraping across the wooden slats of the sunroom floor. He leaned over and placed his hands on the arms of her chair in order to get close to her face. Sarai’s back hit the back of the chair as she moved to get out of his space. He just moved with her, crowding her. Her heart rate skyrocketed, thundering so loudly she was surprised he couldn’t hear it. Or maybe he could, and that was the point.

  “I promised Andie I would take care of you. That you would be safe, protected. I’ll be damned if the one person who puts that in jeopardy is the person I’m trying to watch over.” He glared at her for a long, heart-stopping moment. Looking away, but not moving away, he shook his head as he took a deep breath. Then he looked right back into her eyes. “Are you going to force me to work to keep that promise?”

  Sarai licked her lips nervously but stopped when his gaze dropped to follow the movement.

  “That’s…not my intention,” she finally said.

  Zac didn’t move or say anything. He just stayed there, looking at her, his expression unreadable. Sarai sat, frozen in her seat, caged in by his arms, trapped by his gaze.

  She could feel the warmth of his breath caress her face, smell the combination of pine and spice she associated with this man. For a brief, crazy second she thought he might kiss her, but he abruptly stood up, walking away without another word.

  Sarai blew out the breath she’d been holding.

  Holy moly, that man should be deemed illegal.

  In a distracted daze, she pulled her feet up onto her chair and wrapped her arms around her knees. Once her clouded thinking got past Zac’s effect on her, Sarai concentrated her focus on her escape plan yet again. She thought she’d been pretty subtle today with George and Scott. Apparently not. She was going to have to back off a bit. Wait for her chances as they came.

  But if anyone knew patience, she did. As a Seer, she had no choice.

  ****

  Zac called himself all sorts of fool as he walked away from Sarai as fast as he could without looking as though he were running. Luckily, with his room on the same side of the apartment as hers, he made it there without bumping into any of the other men. He needed a moment to collect himself.

  He’d been angry with Sarai when he’d gone to her room to confront her. George was convinced that shaking her babysitters had been her goal with all her shenanigans today, which had him concerned.

  Zac’s concern came in the form of anger. He’d
already been clear with her that skipping off wasn’t a good idea. But, deep down, he knew the emotion came from a place he didn’t want to examine too closely. From a place where the thought of harm coming to her sent a spike of panic through his blood.

  He’d been truthful when he’d told Sarai of his promise to Andie. He took that promise deadly serious. However, what had started out as an obligation to a friend was now more. Now it was personal.

  Damned if he hadn’t almost kissed her as he’d stared into those wide gray-blue eyes. He’d been close enough that he could see the tiny freckles across the bridge of her nose, smell the scent of vanilla. So sweet, he’d wanted to taste, to sip at her lips. So distracting that he completely lost his train of thought—including the anger that had driven him to her in the first place.

  So he’d left, before he did something really stupid.

  But that didn’t fix the issue. She’d made no promise not to leave. She’d just said it wasn’t her intention to make him work to keep his own promise. Which was a politic answer that gave away nothing.

  The woman had spent too many years learning to be evasive in her old dare. He’d have to warn George and Scott to keep a tighter coverage on her, and, when he was in the apartment, Zac would keep a closer eye on her himself.

  He just hoped he could do so without also giving in to the urge to get closer to her body.

  CHAPTER 12

  “Who am I connecting you with today?” Andie’s tone was more amused than offended.

  Sarai cringed. “Next time I call, it’ll be just to talk with you,” she promised.

  “Uh-huh. Anything we should be concerned about with this one?”

  Usually, she didn’t share her visions with anyone other than those directly affected, but she understood why Andie, as an Alpha of one of the dares, needed to ask. “Internal stuff only today.”

  “Okay. Tell me who to connect you to. Must be someone big if you have to go through me.”