She did feel a little better at the prospect of smacking the crap out of the man.
But she didn’t make it back to the house within the time limit. Not that night.
Or the next night.
Or the next.
A week later, she finally completed the task in only twenty-eight minutes. She leaped for joy when she got back, while Garrett simply smiled and grunted his approval.
“It’s about freakin’ time,” he said, but she could tell he was proud of her.
In the days they’d been living together, she’d learned a few things about him. Like, he was only pretending to be mean. Under the gruff drill instructor mask, he was a kind, happy guy who liked playing poker.
They’d stayed up late one night, betting with pretzel sticks. She’d had a pretty nice stack, until a couple of bad hands wiped her out.
Every night before she went to bed, he would check her wounds. And he would peek in her room to make sure she was okay before he went to his own room. The stand next to her bed held her own Glock now. And she had become a pretty good shot.
One morning, a few weeks after they’d arrived he checked her shoulder after breakfast and nodded. “Combat training today. Meet me downstairs in fifteen minutes.”
She went to her room and changed before going down the carpeted stairs into what had to be the training room. The walls were white and the floor was covered in black rubber. There were three concrete columns running down the room but the rest of the area was open. The back wall housed a rack of free weights, as well as wooden weapons—staffs and swords.
She gazed around the room as he walked over to her shaking his head.
“Nuh-uh. Go change your pants,” he ordered abruptly and pointed toward the stairs.
“Why?” She looked down at her yoga pants and hoodie.
He let out an exasperated sigh. His blue eyes were like flames. “Is it not bad enough I have to see your lacy little panties when we do laundry? Now I’m expected to squirm around on a mat with you in those pants? Oh, no. I don’t think so. Go put on some jeans. You would most likely be fighting in jeans, anyway.” He pointed again toward the stairs, but more forcefully.
“You’re such a baby,” she said, but she had to admit it made her feel a little powerful that she had affected him in that way. Or at least, her panties and yoga pants had.
“Go change. Hurry up.”
“Fine.” She smiled the whole way up to her room, but managed to wipe the satisfied grin off her face when she went back downstairs.
“Better?” She waved her hands down her hips.
“I guess so.”
“Just so you know, I’m wearing lacy panties under my jeans.”
He ignored her and gestured her over to the mat. “A couple of rules,” he said. “Don’t kick me in the Magic Kingdom. It’s a sucky girl move. And it’s usually ineffective because it’s expected.” He held up his finger like he was scolding her.
But she was still stuck a sentence back. “Magic Kingdom?” She raised her brows.
“Would you like to call it something else?”
“Uh. No. I’d like to ignore it completely,” she said, then sang, “Pre-ten-tious,” under her breath, but loud enough for him to hear.
He rolled his eyes. “Just don’t go there. It’s an obvious attack. Whoever will be coming after you is going to be trained and they’ll be expecting it. It’s fine on your run-of-the-mill muggers or rapists, though.”
She nodded. “Got it.”
“Next. Anything can be used as a weapon, even if it’s only to distract your attacker. What do you have on you right now?”
She checked her pockets and shook her head. “Just the panties. Sorry.”
He walked up and stood in front of her, looking her over. Before she realized what was happening, she was lying flat on her back with the string from her hoodie wrapped around her neck, choking the life out of her.
He released the cord and she coughed on the ground for a few seconds before she sat up and shot him a dirty look.
“You could have just pointed it out.” She rubbed her throat, scowling.
“I did.” He shrugged and moved on. “Like I said, anything can be a weapon. A book, a cell phone, anything. You just have to figure out how to use it to your advantage, and you don’t have a lot of time to think about it. But you seem pretty resourceful—you figured out how to get away from two U.S. Marshals. So you have a brain in your head. Just think and act.”
“Think and act. Right.”
“If you truly have nothing else, you’re left with your hands and feet. We already discussed where not to go. Now I’ll show you what you should be doing.”
She knew this part was not going to be verbal, but as he stepped in front of her, she indicated her shoulder. “Can you take it easy on the Pekinese?”
He smiled and gave her a brief nod. “Normally, that would be the best place for me to go. If you know your attacker is wounded, that’s your strike point.”
He showed her moves from every direction possible. If someone was coming up behind her. Straight on attack, from the left and right. From the ground, once she’d gotten him down. Standing above her, after he’d thrown her on the mat.
They practiced and practiced until they both worked up a sweat. After a bowl of cereal for lunch, they were back at it. He threw her around so much she thought she might see her Lucky Charms again.
One thing was becoming very clear. He had muscles everywhere…and touching him all day was starting to take its toll on her attention span.
She’d thrown him to the ground and he’d kicked her feet out from under her. She used the force of her fall to land on him with her elbow at his throat, but he’d deflected it, causing her to land on him with their faces inches apart.
It felt like a movie, where a string of events put the would-be lovers in close proximity, causing them to look into each other’s eyes and finally kiss.
She and Garrett looked at each other for a few seconds. She moved a little closer, but instead of him moving in to take up the slack, he whispered, “Don’t do it.”
“Why not?” Her heart was pounding so fast she could feel it in her temples.
“Kisses change things.”
“We already kissed. Or have you forgotten?” she asked.
“That was different. This would be real.”
“Would that be so bad?”
Their voices were barely audible. Never in any of the movies did the would-be lovers have a discussion about what would happen after the kiss. She frowned. He was ruining the moment.
“I don’t like complications,” he said. “I don’t like strings attached. And you with your lacy panties came with an actual chain instead of strings. So, I really don’t think it would be a good idea.”
“I don’t care what you think,” she said, and closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his.
For someone who didn’t think it was a good idea, he sure went along with the plan. His tongue met hers, and after a few moments he rolled her over so he was on top of her.
Her stitches protested slightly, but she didn’t care at that point. The pleasure of kissing him overrode any pain. Something hard throbbed against her leg as their tongues intertwined. His hands were in her hair and he moaned when she caught his lip between her teeth.
This was happening. She was going to have sex with this hot, muscular hero.
He was right. Kissing him like this was way different than that night in hallway. Back then, he was a stranger.
Now, he was her protector. Her trainer.
Hers.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Garrett moved his mouth from her lips down her neck and then up to her ear. He couldn’t believe she’d kissed him. But since she’d had the courage to do it, he would give her everything he had. At least, what he could give without completely losing control.
He’d never been this tempted before. He’d heard of other marshals getting too close to the people they w
ere protecting, but he’d never fallen victim to those urges.
It figured it would happen to him now. With this particular woman.
Not only was it a very bad idea, it was impossible. His boss would kill him.
When she moved her hand under his shirt to touch bare skin, Garrett realized his control was fading fast. Time to act…or he wouldn’t be able to.
He pulled away, his breath ragged. “You make a convincing argument. But I still don’t think this is a good idea.” He rolled off her before he did something even more stupid. “We’re done for today. Go clean up for an early dinner.” He rose to his feet and headed upstairs, leaving her staring after him.
He waited for her at the top of the steps, where he took a moment to wipe the moisture from his lips and catch his breath.
“I’m sorry,” she muttered without looking at him.
“Don’t be. It’s a perfectly normal response. There’s even a fancy name for it. Some kind of syndrome, I think. I learned about it in training, but I can’t remember right now.”
He scratched his chin while he thought about it. He was trying to keep things light, but she had that sad look in her eyes that had been gone for the last few days.
She shook her head. “Whatever.”
“The point is, you’re scared, and I make you feel safe. That manifests into emotions that aren’t really what you think they are.”
She raised her brows. “Ah. So, you’re really not as sexy and tough as I think you are?”
He looked away and smiled. “I wouldn’t say that.” He tried to make it into a joke, but deep down he was flattered. “I am pretty sexy and tough.” He laughed. “But right about now you don’t have a lot of choices. You’re only hanging around with me. If I was in a lineup with some other guys under normal circumstances, you would pick all of them before you picked me.”
“Are the other guys in this lineup hot, too?”
Was she still trying? Didn’t she understand how close he was to giving in and making this mistake for both of them? He knew better, but even so, she was a temptation he’d never faced before.
Sure, he’d worked with attractive women in the past, but none of them had been the entire package like Sam.
She wasn’t just sexy, with those long legs and sassy smile. She was smart and funny. Not to mention, she cared enough to put her life on the line to do the right thing. How many women today would have survived everything she had? Still…
It was up to him to do the right thing. Even if it felt hideously wrong.
“I appreciate the compliment, but I know you, Sam. I know it doesn’t come down to looks for you. You want the real thing. And I don’t do the real thing.”
“I can do casual.” The hope in her voice tugged at him again.
“Nothing about you is casual. Not your ex-boyfriend of six years. Not your situation. Not my responsibilities.”
She scowled. “Well, I need to learn how to be casual, because that’s all I’m going to have from now on.” She let out a frustrated breath.
It seemed the moment had passed, and she was no longer trying to get in his pants. The disappointment rattled him.
“Not necessarily.” He tried to sound encouraging, though he knew she was probably right.
“I’m supposed to meet someone and fall in love, and then say, ‘Oh, by the way, I’m being hunted by killers, so you may have to uproot your entire life at the drop of a hat, leaving everything and everyone you’ve ever known for me?’ No one’s ever going to sign up for that. Not for me.”
He’d probably agree. Right up until that last part. “Why not for you?”
She snorted. “You’re not interested. What makes you think anyone else would be?” She turned to leave, but he jumped in front of her to block her path.
He expected her to be irritated that he hadn’t let things move in the direction she wanted, but he hadn’t expected her to think it was because he didn’t want her. He’d thought he made the reasons pretty clear.
Not for the first time, he felt the urge to hunt down Lance and kick his ass for convincing her she was not up to standards, let alone a beautiful woman.
“I never said I wasn’t interested,” he said firmly.
She sniffed as if she didn’t believe him.
He had no idea how to prove it without getting her hopes up again. He was in a no-win situation.
She shrugged. “Just forget it.” She ducked around him. “I’ve made an ass of myself enough for one day. I’m going to my room. Unless you want to send me on some useless errand to the shack in the woods?”
It almost seemed like she would welcome it so she could hide for a little while. But he was tired, and not up for following her around in the dark to make sure she was safe.
“No. I don’t need anything.” Except maybe you, under me, naked…
Damn. His body was still expectant. He needed a shower. A cold one.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Sam didn’t respond, but went to her room and showered. She almost put on a pair of yoga pants, but something told her that wouldn’t help her case.
It was obvious she wasn’t in the same class as a man like Garrett. Hell, she probably couldn’t even see his class from her class.
But she was here. She was warm. She was willing.
She thought those were the only three requirements for a guy to have sex. Especially a guy who had no other options within a five-mile radius.
Garrett was chuckling as she walked into the living room. She decided to drop her advances. She had made her feelings clear, and he’d said no thanks.
Fine. No hard feelings. She’d go on like normal.
“Take that, asshole,” he said to the screen.
“Are you playing a video game?” She stepped up behind him to watch, noticing the clean manly smell coming from his wet hair.
“Kind of.” He laughed again.
She looked at his laptop. The screen had a red border, and at the top was a logo that read First Bank of Virginia. She squinted at the name on the screen. Lance Weaver.
Her jaw dropped. “What are you doing?”
“I hacked into his bank account and removed all his money. I’ll put it back in a day or two, but I want him to sweat it for a little while.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked. It wasn’t like Lance didn’t deserve it, but she wasn’t sure why Garrett cared.
“I don’t like him. I read the text he sent you that night. He’s a damn punk. Who does that?”
She covered her face with her hands and groaned. “You read the text?” Her voice was muffled.
“Had to. To make sure you hadn’t told anyone you’re alive, or where you are.”
“Oh.” Her embarrassment was complete. Was it not enough that this sexy man didn’t want her? But, no. Now he knew no one else wanted her, either.
“Are we okay?” he asked as he spun his chair, looking at her for the first time since she came in the room.
She nodded, but didn’t meet his eyes.
He rose and came to stand in front of her, bending down to look into her face, forcing her to make eye contact. “Sam? Are we okay? We’re going to be spending—”
She cut off whatever reasonable thing he might have said, by leaning in those few extra inches and placing her lips against his.
When he didn’t move to touch her, she backed away, ready for him to explain once again why they couldn’t go down this path. She blinked up at him.
He stared back at her.
Then he broke down. “Fuck.” He put his hands on her hips and pulled her against him. “No amount of cold water and rational thinking is going to keep this from happening, is it?”
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Garrett wasn’t gentle when he kissed Sam. She wanted to play with fire? He’d show her how hot it could get.
He’d wanted her for too long. Longer than she realized.
Every synapse in his brain was sounding an alarm that he was crossing a line. They wouldn’t
be able to go back. He ignored every warning.
He’d thought of kissing her ever since the time at the restaurant. The truth was, he hadn’t needed to kiss her then, but he’d done it without thinking. Much like now, he hadn’t been able to help himself.
What was it about this woman that made him lose his mind? The worst part was, he didn’t know if he could walk away if he wanted to.
Which he didn’t.
He lifted her onto the counter so he could kiss her easier. She immediately wrapped her legs around him. Eagerly, he rocked against her. She moaned softly when he pulled back and gasped in pleasure when he pressed forward.
He increased the tempo.
She reached for his shirt and he let her pull it over his head. Her fingertips felt like ten burning points as she trailed her hands down his stomach, moving toward the button on his jeans.
If he had any intention of stopping her, now would be the time. He pulled back slightly and gazed into the green depths of her eyes. Things slowed for him. He still wanted her just as much…but he realized he wanted it to be more than just a romp in the kitchen.
It meant something.
She pulled him back, grinding against him with need, and he almost gave in.
Almost.
Instead, he picked her up, his hands coming up to support her ass.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To your room. You’re not a countertop kind of girl.”
“Yes, I am. Please, Garrett.”
Did she realize that her eyes and the way she begged turned him to mush? He would do anything she asked when she looked at him that way.
With a groan of surrender, he put her on her feet long enough to strip off her pants, then set her back on the counter and took off her shirt, too.
Then he remembered the only condom in the house was in his wallet, which was in his room.
“One second,” he said. “Don’t move.”
She whined when he pulled away, and he almost decided not to bother, but his job was to protect her in all ways.
He worked his jeans loose on his way back, and rushed through the next few steps until he was able to push into her and take her mouth at the same time.
Witness in the Dark Page 12
