Boss With Benefits (A Lantana Island Romance Book 1) Page 4

  Rosa closed her eyes, her stomach twisting itself in and out of knots like a tentacled sea creature brought to the surface. She wanted to yell at her sister, to tell her again how important it was to be careful. Too late for that now. Besides, Carin hadn’t done anything wrong. It was Otto she really wanted to scream at.

  “You did call the police though, right?” she asked.

  “Yeah, but I got the impression they weren’t that interested. Otto didn’t try to break in, and I’m not the one with the protection order. They came around and took a statement, but I don’t know if they’ll actually do anything.”

  “You told them it was Otto?”

  “I told them I thought it was him. Problem is, I can’t swear to it. Not a hundred percent.”

  Rosa’s chest felt tight. Carin suffered from debilitating panic attacks, so having Otto harassing her was the last thing she needed.

  “Can Jake stay with you for a while?” she asked. “Or even better, could you go and stay with him?” Carin’s best friend was loaded, and had plenty of room for guests.

  “If it was Otto, he was most likely looking for you,” said Carin. “Hopefully he’s figured out you’ve left the country, and now he’ll leave me alone.”

  “Hopefully. But don’t take this lightly. He’s as crazy as a sack of snakes, but if he wasn’t clever, he’d be back in jail already. He was on parole when he started hassling me, so the police would have come down hard on him if they’d found any evidence.”

  “I guess I can stay with Jake for a few days. Might mess up his love life, but it’s not like he’s short of dates.”

  “Okay, good. And I think you should file your own protection order.”

  “You really think I need to go that far?”

  “Yes, I do. And if you see him again, call the police right away, okay?”

  Before they hung up, Rosa made Carin promise to email her every morning to check in. By that time, she was pacing anxiously around the small room. She needed to go and punch something. Maybe there was nothing she could do to help Carin, but even with the wedding looming over her, she wasn’t going to put off helping herself.

  She dressed quickly in shorts and a T-shirt, and jogged down to the beach in her bare feet. This early it was deserted. Thank goodness there was nobody around to see her first training session. But she still felt self-conscious as she stopped on the sand, then spread her feet, bent her knees, and extended her arms in front of her.

  Left shoulder forward. Right elbow back. Bounce a little. Now punch!

  The YouTube videos were a lot more fun to emulate than her beginner karate lessons had been. The guys in those videos looked totally badass. Rosa shifted her weight to her front foot and spun as she kicked. Once, twice, three times. Then she kicked with the other foot, and tried a few punches, too. It felt great. She picked up the pace, adding some jumps to the kicks, and stringing the moves together. Surprising how quickly she got puffed, but it felt good to be doing something.

  If she ever saw Otto again, she’d kick his ass all the way back to Creepsville. On the way, she’d give him a private tour of Fist City, before stopping off at World of Hurt—

  “Nice moves.”

  Rosa spun around, chest heaving from the excursion. Dalton had his hands on his hips. His lips were pressed together, although it wasn’t even seven o’clock yet, so surely he couldn’t be angry she was doing this instead of working?

  He was just as irritatingly handsome this morning as he’d been yesterday. He wore running shorts, trainers, and an old white T-shirt that clung to him like a lover, caressing the muscles of his chest and arms. The sun lit up the scruffiness of his hair and the angles of his face, as though a heavenly finger couldn’t resist reaching down to touch him.

  “Crap,” she mumbled under her breath. Of all the people to catch her out practicing, why did it have to be him? “I’ll be in my office by eight,” she said. “You don’t have to worry about my work not getting done.”

  “Don’t let me interrupt your workout.” He waved his hand in an arrogant gesture, as though ordering her to continue. His gesture made her back stiffen. She wasn’t his to command.

  “It’s not a workout. It’s hand-to-hand combat training. And I’m a lethal weapon, so you’d better stand clear.” She got back into her starting pose with her fists raised and her knees bent. If she ignored Dalton, maybe he’d go away.

  “No, it’s not,” he said.

  “Excuse me?”

  “That’s not hand-to-hand combat training. It’s a glorified workout, nothing more. If you’re practicing those moves because you want to defend yourself, you’re wasting your time.”

  She couldn’t keep the outrage out of her voice. “This is the training done by Navy SEALs. If you have a problem with it, take it up with the elite division of the US Navy. I’m sure they’ll be grateful to you for telling them they’ve been doing it wrong all this time.”

  “That kind of training is fine for SEALs. Just not for you.” He stepped toward her, stopping an arm’s length away. “You’re what, five foot five? And you don’t weigh as much as a wet cat. Anyone you’re defending yourself against is likely to be taller and heavier, so you won’t get close enough to punch or kick them. And if you do manage to strike them, all you’ll do is break your hand or foot.” He copied her stance, spreading his own legs and bending his knees. “Here, try it. Give me your best shot.”

  She weighed less than a wet cat? Was that meant to be an insult? Rosa balled her fists. “You want me to punch you?”

  “I want to show you a better way. One that will actually work for you.” He cocked his head. “That is, if you’re serious about learning to defend yourself.”

  How dare he assume that because he was a man, he knew more about fighting than she did?

  She brought her fists up in front of her face. “I don’t want to hurt you.” That was a big, fat lie. She wouldn’t mind hurting him. In fact, she’d probably enjoy it rather a lot. Did that make her a bad person?

  “I’ll risk it.” He dropped his hands. “I’ll even give you a free shot.”

  She moved closer. Dalton was a lot taller than she was. The face of the imaginary opponent she’d been fighting — Otto’s face — had been at her level. In real life, Otto was a little shorter than Dalton, and not nearly as well-muscled. But yes, Otto was also taller than she was. So what? She was Rosa Roughknuckles, the toughest freebooter in the South Pacific.

  “Come on.” He motioned her forward. “Try throwing a punch.”

  She curled her fist and punched up, aiming for the irritating curl of his full lips. He dodged backward, so the punch didn’t connect. And at the same moment her punch was supposed to land, she felt a sharp tap against her ribs. He’d simply reached out and touched her, and she hadn’t seen it coming, let alone been able to defend against it.

  “Trying to punch my face leaves you exposed,” he said. “I have superior reach and strength. You’re not fast enough to surprise me, and you can’t win by fighting the way Navy SEALs do. You need to be smarter than that.”

  Rosa lowered her hands, disappointed. “Then what would you do?”

  “There are plenty of self-defense moves that’ll be effective. Just stay away from the showy punches and roundhouse kicks. They only work in the movies.” He slipped off his trainers so he had bare feet too, and took up a fighting stance. “Here. I’ll show you some techniques that’ll be more effective for you.”

  Self-defense moves didn’t sound nearly as badass as Navy SEAL hand-to-hand combat training. She wanted to strike fear into an attacker’s heart with impressive jump kicks and spinning strikes. Still, even Chuck Norris had probably started small.

  “Why would you help me?” she asked, settling back into a fighting stance.

  “Because I misjudged you.” He said the words coolly, without a hint of apology in his tone. Still, Rosa had to bite the inside of her cheeks to keep from giving him a satisfied smile.

  “You did?” she asked swe
etly, hoping for more.

  “Try going for my knee. Kick it sideways, so I can’t keep my balance. You want to drop your attacker if you can, to safely get away.” He reached out and grabbed her arm, holding her wrist tight. “So now I’ve got you. Show me what you’re going to do.”

  For a moment, she couldn’t show him anything. His touch had made her heart leap, as though he’d taken those paddles they use on TV medical dramas, yelled CLEAR, and pumped a thousand volts through her system. Blame the fact she hadn’t been touched by any man for a long time, let alone one who looked like a pirate fantasy come to life.

  Stop it, Rosa.

  “Um.” She struggled to clear the confusion from her brain. But it wasn’t just the contact making her dopey. He was so close that all she could smell was man-spice. She wasn’t even sure she knew what man-spice was, except that he smelled of it.

  Some part of its composition was fresh air and hard work, just like yesterday, but it was also mixed with a delicious cologne. The scent didn’t just go into her nose or lungs. No, it arrowed right through her, tickled the depths of her belly, and messed with the muscles that supported her legs.

  “My knee,” he prompted.

  That’s right. She couldn’t think about his bulging biceps, or his wide chest, or his yummy scent, or his still-unshaven jaw, or the fact his lips were all too kissable.

  His knee. Sideways.

  She kicked it with the side of her bare foot. Hard.

  He went down, grunting with pain and pulling her with him. She hit the sand with enough force to make her teeth snap together. He landed half on top of her, pinning her.

  “Ooof.” She struggled to catch her breath. “Heavy.”

  He lifted his upper body off her by pressing the sand away, as though he was doing a push up. All she could do was watch his biceps flex as he pushed up to standing.

  “We can tick that move off.” He spoke with gritted teeth. “But next time, save the full-strength kicks for any real-life dangerous situations you might find yourself in.” He extended one hand to help her to her feet, lifted her as though she weighed nothing, and took her wrist again. “This time, we’ll work on breaking the hold, so you don’t get dragged down with your attacker.”

  Although he was still touching her with his thousand-volt grip, his gorgeous face was close enough to make her weak, and his man-spice was stronger than ever, she managed to nod. “Half-strength kicks,” she said. “Got it.”

  Then she gave him a long, slow, and very satisfied grin. Rosa Roughknuckles had dropped him like a stone. Maybe becoming a badass lethal weapon wasn’t such a wild fantasy after all. And, oh boy, wouldn’t that be a dream come true.

  6

  Dalton had always had trouble sleeping. He was plagued by nightmares and whenever he woke in the night, he had unpleasant memories to deal with. Memories that were far more vivid now he was back on Lantana.

  Here he’d suffered through the longest day and night of his life. No, it had been the longest year of his life. Not just the terrible hours spent cowering as the cyclone roared around them, tearing down everything his parents had worked so hard to build. But the days after when things were at their worst. And the weeks and months after that, when he and Tiny had needed their father more than anything, and he’d drawn further and further away.

  The memories were strongest in the darkness of the night. Stronger still with the lingering scent of Lantana flowers and the sound of the waves filling his head.

  Last night he’d been especially restless, so this morning he’d headed out just after dawn to collect more flowers for Tiny’s bedroom and chase the bad memories away. He’d been cutting frangipanis from the bushes near the beach when he’d seen Rosa doing jump kicks, and put the flowers down to investigate.

  She was so slender, and looked so earnest flinging herself around, he couldn’t have walked away if he’d tried. Everything about her had captured him. From the frown of concentration creasing her brow, to the way she stuck her tongue out of the side of her mouth, and the little grunts of effort she made when she jumped.

  Now he had his arm looped around Rosa’s neck and the last of his nightmares were long gone. In fact, he had the opposite problem. His thoughts were a little too good.

  Rosa’s body might be slight and willowy, but her scoop-necked T-shirt hinted of breasts that were perfectly formed. And her shorts were molded around exactly the kind of lean curves he loved.

  That made being this close to her a definite problem. Even the simple contact of her hip bumping against his thigh fired neurons directly into the pleasure center of his brain. Maybe self-defense training wasn’t supposed to be this arousing, but he kept having to picture himself underneath a cold shower.

  It wasn’t only her body that was at fault. At least she was wearing sunglasses, so her sometimes-grey, sometimes-green eyes weren’t so distracting. But when she was learning a new move, she pursed her lips into a tight shape that reminded him of a forties film star. And that look of total concentration before she threw herself into a new position just about slayed him.

  But he couldn’t afford to be so distracted. Tomorrow, he’d probably be black and blue. What she lacked in height and weight she more than made up for with enthusiasm.

  “There are a few ways you can break my hold.” He dragged his mind back to the lesson with an effort. “An elbow in the guts is probably the simplest.”

  She swiveled as she tried it, and he caught a view down her T-shirt that made the cold shower in his imagination start steaming.

  “You’re too tall.” She made it sound like he’d grown to his current height with the sole aim of annoying her.

  “Keep yourself bent forward if you can. If you lean back, I’ll be able to lift you off your feet.”

  She jerked so far forward that he was forced to lean in. Now his front was pressed hard against her back. Her perfect ass cheeks were against his rapidly-stiffening cock. Shit.

  He let go and stepped back. “You’ve got the idea.” His voice came out strained.

  “You’ve had enough?” Her lips pursed into that film-star pout. “I was going to ask what I could do to get out of trouble if I did lean back instead of forward. Is there a way to break your hold if you manage to lift me off my feet?”

  The picture that flashed through his mind was of him lifting her, but she was facing toward him, not away, and she had her legs around his hips.

  “Time for breakfast.” He forced another jet of cold water into his mental picture. It only made things worse. Now she had her legs around him, and she was wet all over, with her T-shirt plastered to her body.

  “Okay.” She gave a rueful smile and rubbed her forearm. “I think you got me pretty good with that arm-lock. I’m a little sore.”

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He reached guiltily for her arm, but she waved his hand away.

  “Good thing I’m tougher than I look,” she said.

  “No kidding.” He turned his own arm over to show her a red mark where her elbow had caught him. He’d underestimated her, and he’d have the bruises to prove it.

  She grimaced. “Sorry. Maybe I’m used to getting physical because I used to play a lot of sports. And up until six months ago, I went for a run most days.”

  “Why’d you stop?” he asked, starting up the beach toward where he’d left the flowers he’d been collecting. “You got injured?”

  “No. It wasn’t safe anymore.” She walked beside him and waved one hand dismissively. “Long story.”

  “Is it related to the reason you wanted to get out of Sydney?”

  She glanced at him, startled, then flushed. “Um. I think I’d like to start running again. Any good tracks on the island?”

  He didn’t answer for a moment. Should he push his question? Only he already knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t answer unless she was good and ready. What was the word for what she had? Brass balls? No, chutzpah was a better word. She practically glowed with it.

  “There�
�s a path that goes across the island to another beach,” he said. “At a medium pace, it’s about forty minutes there and back.”

  They reached the frangipani bush and he bent to collect the cut blooms he’d left there. When he straightened with them, she was giving him a puzzled frown.

  “What are they for?”

  “Tiny’s room. The hospital gave me a lotion to rub into her leg, to help with stiffness in the muscle, but she doesn’t like the way it smells. The flowers help mask it.” He started walking to the staff kitchen, and she fell into step beside him. “There are other lotions I can use, but getting them into Fiji is a problem. Customs are refusing to release them.”

  “So, you pick flowers for her instead.” For some reason, she seemed surprised.

  “You’ve got a better idea?”

  “No, I just…” She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  They reached the staff kitchen and he held the door open for her. In the kitchen, cereals, bread, and fruit had been left on the counter.

  Rosa went to the bench and picked up a box of cereal. “I’m starving. Navy SEAL training is kind of exhausting.”

  “How did you learn those moves?” He pulled a couple of bowls out of the cupboard.

  “From YouTube.”

  “You watched videos?” he asked as she poured the cereal. “That’s it? I thought someone must have been training you.” His reward was a smile that gave him a glimpse of her dimples, the right cheek deeper than the left. The kind of smile that would make a corpse want to stand up and dance.

  “Is that a compliment?” she asked.

  “Don’t sound so shocked.” He put their filled cereal bowls on the dining table and watched her slide into a chair. It was hard not to watch the way she moved. Something about her kept drawing his eye. She had charisma as well as chutzpah. And the elegant grace of someone who was used to being physical.

  “I want to see Tiny again today,” she said. “I only stayed for a minute or two yesterday, but I’d like to talk to her about the wedding and find out what’s been done.”