I understand how scary this must be. But I need you to believe that I am the only person at that diner looking out for your interests. I want to protect you from any fallout, but you’ll have to trust me.”
Her trust had been shattered by the last man she gave it to and would be hard-earned for Jonah. Another biting chill nipped her skin. “What do you want me to do?”
“Nothing right now. But stay alert. Keep your eyes and ears open. And learn how to defend yourself.” He pushed away from the desk and moved close enough for her to feel the body heat radiating from his skin. “That’s where I come in.”
Jonah reached for Annie, noting the wariness that shadowed her eyes. When he touched her arm, she stiffened and pulled away.
“What are you doing?” Alarm flashed in her mahogany eyes.
“Getting to the business at hand. Teaching you some defensive moves to protect yourself.”
Her stance relaxed a fraction, but her expression remained cautious. He understood that caution better now. Her story about a car accident causing her facial scar aside, she hadn’t denied his conjecture about her history of abuse. Her body language had told him all she didn’t say. He had to proceed carefully. The last thing he wanted was to cause Annie any more pain.
But her protection was paramount, and he couldn’t be with her twenty-four seven.
“Let’s start with the basics.” He squared his feet in front of her. “Your best strike points are your attacker’s eyes, his groin and his throat. Concentrate your efforts there. Okay? Like this …”
Jonah lifted his arms to demonstrate the best hand position for a throat strike.
Annie rubbed a hand down her arm, her expression dubious. “I don’t know. Fighting back will only make him mad, make him hurt me more.”
Jonah lowered his hands and stepped back. He remembered how Annie had shut down last night, retreating into herself and giving her attacker no resistance. “Do you believe your life is worth fighting for?”
Her chin lifted, surprise flickering across her face. “Of course.”
“Do you? Deep down, do you truly believe your life is worth defending at any cost? Because to save your life, you may have to do things that are difficult, or embarrassing, or impolite or disgusting. You have to believe you’re worth it and be willing to do whatever it takes. Gouging eyeballs, biting until you draw blood …”
She winced and pulled her arms closer to her body.
Jonah scratched his jaw, reassessing his approach with Annie. His first task was helping her overcome her skittishness. Maybe showing her a few simple, less invasive moves would help build her confidence.
“Lower your arms to your sides,” he said, doing so himself. When she complied, he gave her an encouraging smile. “Now I promise not to hurt you. I just want to show you a couple tricks you can use.”
Her brow puckered skeptically.
“What would you do if someone grabbed your arm like this?” He wrapped his hand around her wrist with a secure grip.
She gasped and tried to jerk her arm back. He held tight.
“Instinct tells you to pull back, but unless you’re stronger than your attacker, that won’t work, will it?”
She raised a startled look from her wrist, meeting his gaze. “So … what do I do?”
Beneath his fingers, the flutter of her pulse beat harder, faster. He became acutely aware of the delicate softness of her skin, the poignant blend of hope and vulnerability in her expression and the answering thump of his own heart.
For weeks now, he’d been intrigued by Annie, attracted to her, and the protective instincts she brought out in him only deepened the connection he felt. Knowing how satiny smooth her skin felt stoked the fire that smoldered in his blood when he was around her and teased his imagination. Steady, boy.
“Step closer to me.” When she hesitated, he added, “Come on. Keep your elbow down and close to your body.”
Drawing a shaky breath, Annie edged nearer.
“Okay, look what that did to my grip, the angle of my wrist.”
Her wary gaze still on him, she tipped her head like a curious puppy, then glanced down at the awkward cant of his hand.
“Now make a fist and twist it up toward my thumb and over my arm.”
She followed his directions and broke free of his grasp. Instead of smiling at her success, Annie scowled. “I didn’t do that. You let go on purpose.”
He chuckled. “Yeah, because I didn’t want a broken wrist. Here. Try it on me, and I’ll show you.”
Annie gripped the arm he extended at his wrist, and he worked through the steps he’d just shown her slowly, repeating, “Step in. Arm close to you. Fist. Twist toward their thumb and—”
“Ow!” Annie dropped his arm and shook her hand as he broke her hold. She blinked at him, her expression stunned.
He sent her a satisfied grin. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I—” She wet her lips and stood taller. A bit of the skepticism melted from her expression, replaced by intrigue. “It works.”
“Of course it works.” He chuckled. “I’m not gonna teach you stuff that doesn’t work. What’s the point in that?”
“Touché.” The corner of her mouth twitched, and a pink flush stained her cheeks.
Even that sultry hint of a grin scrambled his concentration and filled his chest with a warmth that expanded until he couldn’t catch his breath. But her delicate blush reminded him that despite her full lips and temptress hairstyle, Annie was off-limits. He had nothing to offer the young mother except heartache, and she’d seen enough pain in her life.
“Okay, next move.” He stepped behind her, catching her shoulders when she tried to turn toward him. “No, this time let’s suppose someone comes up from behind and grabs you like this …” He circled her with his arms, pinning her arms to her sides, and tugged her back against his chest. Again, she stiffened under his restrictive hold.
The light floral scent of her shampoo teased his senses. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself when her futile attempts to break from his hold caused her fanny to buck against his crotch.
After a moment of panicked wiggling, her breath coming in shallow gasps, she stilled. “Let go. Please. I—I don’t want to do this.”
“Struggling doesn’t do anything but wear you out, Annie. You have to use your head. Stay calm.”
She gave a small nod and drew a tremulous breath.
“You can break his grip by dropping to the ground. Just lift your feet. But shift all your weight onto his arms. Or if you throw your head back hard—although not now, ‘cause I don’t want a bloody nose—your skull is hard enough to bash your attacker’s face.”
She
