I’m not ready.

Not ready for Hunter standing so close to me. Not ready for the way his breath sweeps across the back of my neck, making me shiver. Not ready for the way his ridiculously broad chest molds against my back.

Definitely not ready to feel his six-pack through the thin cotton of the T-shirt I’m wearing. Hunter’s wearing a shirt, too. Those muscles are making themselves known through two layers of cotton. Just how built is this guy?

I don’t answer, and Hunter takes that as his cue to go right ahead and slide his arms around me, moving slowly like he has during the first run of all the other moves he’s taught me. Guess he figures I’m not as ready as he thought I was, because I can’t stop freezing up around him like a smitten moron. I’m sure he’s used to it, but…embarrassing.

I appreciate that he wants to teach me self-defense, and yeah, he told me that he’s a teacher, but I’d rather be in a classroom with a professional than here in this rural torture chamber. I’m getting what I want—Hunter’s hands on me—but not in the way I want it. I’d like him to be ripping my clothes off, but instead he’s doing a slow-mo attack scenario that gives me all the proximity but none of the pleasure.

Ugh.

Of course I would go out for a one-night stand and wind up stranded with the one guy I can’t seduce into meaningless sex. Story of my life.

And here he is, moving agonizingly slowly. His arms finally wrap nearly all the way around me, his pinkies sliding along the exposed skin above the waistband of my pants where my shirt’s ridden up.

“Okay,” he says, his stubbly chin scraping across the curve of my neck. “The next few will be half-speed and half-strength, and then we’ll go full-speed and full-strength. How’s that?”

It’s great, it’s fine. I can totally handle it. “Sounds good,” I lie.

Hunter cinches his arms securely around my mid-section, but not tight enough for me to feel like I can’t get away. I do what he taught me: lower my center of gravity and make it as hard as possible for him to hold on. Even at half-strength, escaping proves to be more difficult than I anticipated, but I’m able to break free relatively quickly each time.

During what has to be the fifteenth run-through of this, I’m struggling against his arms, his biceps forming a tight band beneath my breasts. I’m gonna go insane if we keep doing this.

“At what point would I kick you…I mean, my assailant, in the balls to get away?” I want to learn when to strike a blow so this lesson can be over and I can go to the opposite side of whichever end of the cabin he’s in.

“If you’re struggling to get free and it’s not working, and you think you can get an advantage by startling your assailant enough to loosen their grip, bring your foot back to kick their shins, their knees. Beat on their arms. Elbow them, whatever you need to do.”

“And risk pissing them off,” I say.

“You’re struggling, you’ve already pissed them off. And they have you at that point, so don’t worry about pissing them off and worry about getting away.”

Hunter still has his hold on me, so I wrap my hands around his wrists just as I crouch as much as I can. I bend at my waist, putting as much pressure as I can on his hands, and I break myself free once again.

“That was easier than I thought it’d be,” I taunt, even though it really wasn’t.

Hunter’s eyes widen, and he lets out a surprised laugh. “It can’t be that easy,” he says smugly. “You’re sweating and I’m not.”

Well, that pisses me off. “You’re twice my size!”

“I’m taking it easy on you.”

I want to wipe that mischievous smile right off his stupid, handsome face. I told him earlier that I was competitive, but that may have been an understatement. I know he’s taking that knowledge and using it to goad me, but I don’t care. I’m livid at the idea that he thinks I wouldn’t be able to get away from him.

“Stop taking it easy on me then,” I say, unable to hide just how frustrated and pissed off I am. “Give it to me full-speed. If you want me to learn how to fend off an attacker, then attack me like an attacker would. Anyone who’s trying to get something out of me isn’t going to sneak up behind me and seductively slide his hands across my hips.”

Hunter’s eyes flash with something, and I ignore the heat that rises in my cheeks because I’ve revealed too much. I really need an outlet for this sexual frustration that’s drowning me, and if I’m not going to get that from him in the way that I want it, I’ll take it in the way that he’s offering it.

He raises his eyebrow at me, clearly ready to accept the challenge.

I’m going to take him down if it’s the last thing I do. Considering how big he is, it very well may be.

There’s fire in Hunter’s eyes. Maybe he likes the way I’m challenging him, maybe he doesn’t. I can’t quite read it.

“Are you sure you can handle it?” He licks his lips as they curl up into a sexy smirk.

Ugh, I hate him.

“I’m sure,” I tell him, sounding a lot more confident than I feel. Panic wells up in my stomach, because I desperately want to win this, and I’m not entirely sure that I can. My mom always tells me to fake it till I make it, so I guess that’s the best way to go about this situation.

Hunter moves so quickly I don’t even have time to anticipate it. He doesn’t grab me from behind like he did previously. He locks his arms around me from the front, smashing my face against his chest.

My heartbeat ratchets up a few notches, my fight-or-flight reflex kicking in. He really isn’t taking it easy on me this time, not that I expected him to. Just…the difference between our trial runs and this is night-and-day.

I’m not in the position to lower my center of gravity like we’ve been practicing, but I flail against his chest—god, he smells good—until I’m at least able to turn myself around in his arms, gaining some leverage against his body. I crouch down and lift my legs, bent at the knees, so that it’s a little less easy to hold me up. I elbow at his biceps, pressing my ass against his thighs to push his hands loose. His grip is so tight.

I wiggle as much as I can, and maybe that works in my favor because my lower back is basically rubbing against his dick. He’s curled around me and breathing heavily. When I move a certain way his breaths stutters, and even though trying to turn him on into surrender is a very dangerous idea, I’m too competitive not to use his erection to my advantage. I move a little more just to get him distracted, then slam my heel into his foot.

His breath catches and he loses his grip, but he still has one arm wrapped around my waist. His hold is loose enough that I can turn in his arms, and I push against his chest, then wrap my legs around his waist to throw him off balance. It works a little too well, because we both fall to the floor.

Hunter brings his arms around my back to absorb some of the blow, and we wind up on the floor with him cradled between my legs. He’s breathing hard, his face inches from mine. He looks angry and frustrated and aroused. It’s gorgeous.

He leans in close, the tip of his nose brushing against mine. The air is charged—an electrical current running between us— and I feel like I did last night in the alley. He’s gonna kiss me this time, though, I know it.

“Hayley,” he whispers.

I close my eyes and wait for it.

“This isn’t the way you want to end up, on your back with your attacker on top of you.” He leans in close, then says, “I win.”

He pushes up onto his feet and reaches out to help me up.

I hate him.

As if being a loser wasn’t bad enough, I’m a sexually frustrated loser.

And I want him even more than I did before.

* * *

After a dinner full of awkward silences, and a clean-up session that involves quite a few more, Hunter and I sit in the living area, looking anywhere but at each other. I know Hunter probably didn’t mean to take advantage of my attraction to him in order to embarrass me, but he did, and now I’m stuck here with nowhere to go and nothing to do.

Restless, I move from the table and sit on the bed, plopping myself down on my back so I can stare up at the ceiling. The sun is setting, casting a gorgeous glow through the windows. It’s beautiful here, but so boring.

Luckily—or unluckily, depending on how this goes—my need to break the silence trumps my lingering embarrassment.

“What do you do when you come down here? The entertainment options are…limited,” I say, trying to be as charitable as possible.

“Sit outside in front of a fire,” he says. The chair he’s sitting in creaks as he shifts on it. “Read. Do some carpentry here and there. I come down here to give my mind a rest, so I don’t have a TV or any movies. I don’t bring my laptop. There wouldn’t be much point to making the drive if I was going to do the same things here that I do at home.”

“May I make a suggestion?”

“Sure,” Hunter replies with a soft chuckle.

“Next time bring down a full deck of cards. And a board game, just in case.”

“Noted.”

“What do you read?”

“What?” he asks.

“You said you read,” I explain. “What do you read? I don’t see any books here.”

“I bring one with me,” he replies, like it’s the most obvious answer in the world.

Surely he didn’t bring one with him this time. “Do you have any games on your phone?” I ask, desperate.

“Nope. It’s a burner.”

“Ugh,” I say dramatically as I flop my arm on the bed. “We can’t even play Truth or Dare. There are only so many dares we could do in here all alone.” That comment makes my mind go to some very pleasant and yet disappointing places, because think of all the sexy dares we could get up to if only Hunter was into me. Sometimes I think maybe…but if he was interested he would’ve said something when I mentioned the flirting in the club last night being real on my part, but he didn’t. Ugh, what a waste of alone time with a hot, wonderful guy. “We’d have to play Truth or Truth.”

“Okay, let’s.”

That gets my attention. I lift up my head to see what’s going on over there. “You sure?”

He nods. “Absolutely.”

“Any questions off limits?” I ask, rolling onto my side so I can get a good look at him.

“Not for me,” he replies. “You?”

“No. Although rapid-fire questions make my brain-to-mouth filter go completely haywire, so there’s no telling what you’re in for right now.”

“I think I can handle it,” Hunter says. “Unless you can’t.”

“Ahhh, challenging me does actually work, as you found out earlier, so yes. Let’s go.”

“Favorite ice cream flavor,” he asks.

“Starting with a softball to get my guard down? I like your style,” I tease. “Vanilla.”

“Vanilla?” he asks, surprised.

“Yep. A good vanilla with the flecks from the beans in it.”

“It’s so…”

“It’s so plain, I know. But you have some vanilla in your freezer, and you want M&Ms in there? Put ’em in there. You want strawberries, put some strawberries in there. Coffee? Go for it. The ice cream world is your oyster with vanilla.”

Hunter actually looks impressed with my answer. “I never would’ve thought of it that way.”

“If you want to read into my personality with that answer, it’s that I like to be in control.” I say, waggling my eyebrows. “My turn?”

“Go for it,” Hunter answers with a smile.

I’m in a dangerous mood and feel like playing with fire. “Weirdest place you’ve had sex.”

His eyes widen only slightly in surprise before he says, “On a volcano.”

“Oh wow.” That was pretty much the last answer I was expecting. “How?”

“Well, when a man is attracted to a woman, he—”

“Don’t be a smartass!” I say, slightly annoyed. “I wasn’t asking about logistics.”

“I was on a job in Hawaii, and we were on a hike. We just slipped off the trail behind a rock and…”

“You slept with a client?”

“No,” Hunter replies vehemently, shaking his head. “I have not and would not ever do that. It was with someone who worked at the same firm I did, years ago. Things between us got…messy. That’s one of the reasons I left, and that is definitely something I wouldn’t do again.”

“Was it fun?”

“The sex was good, and the fact that we could’ve gotten caught made it better. Never done it in public?”

“Me? No. I’m not opposed to it or anything, I’ve just never had the opportunity. I’ve also never been to Hawaii, but the possibility of volcano sex makes it appealing in a way it wasn’t before.”

Hunter laughs. “Did that count as a question, or do I get to ask you one now?”

I tap my finger on my chin, pretending to think long and hard. “I’ll accept it as a follow-up within the context of my original question. Shoot.”

He presses his lips together, then asks, “That message that Alexa asked that we pass on to you. She said she hoped you found what you were looking for last night. Did you?”

So…definitely not a softball question. I struggle with how much I want to tell him. There are only so many reasons I could make up for being in a club, and Hunter seems like the type who would see through a lie. Plus, after the things I said to him last night before I knew why he was really there, it’s not like I could really deny what I was after.

“Alexa pretty much dragged me out to the club last night because she was worried about me becoming a shut-in,” I tell him. “After Carson, I’ve had trouble trusting people in general, but especially when it comes to dating. I’ve been going through a bit of a dry spell, and she was starting to worry that I was becoming too attached to Netflix. So she basically stole my remote and sat on the end of my bed harassing me until I relented.”

“So you wanted to meet new people?” His question is tinged with a teasing disbelief, because I know that he knows that’s not what I was looking for. So I decide to give him what he wants.

“I wanted to have a one-night stand,” I admit. “Just some good, old-fashioned, no-strings-attached sex. But you knew that already.”

Hunter swallows, then shifts in his seat. “I did, yes.”

“I left the club with a man, all right. But not in the way I intended.”

“Life’s surprising that way, isn’t it?” he says with a laugh.

“I’m learning it can be, yeah. Ever been in love?” I ask.

“Once, yes,” he replies with a sigh. “When I was young and stupid and didn’t know how to handle it. It was…messy.”

I let out a bitter laugh. “I know all about messy.”

“Yeah,” Hunter says sympathetically. “I guess you do.”

“Me and Carson? We were a real shitshow.”

Hunter runs his hand over his face, scratching at the stubble on his beard. “Do you mind… Is it okay if I ask what happened there? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to, I’m just curious.”

I smile at him. “I think you have as much a right to know as anyone, considering the situation we’re in.”

“Still,” Hunter replies solemnly, “you don’t owe me an explanation.”

Like hell I don’t. It’s nice that he’s willing to give me an out, but I’m not going to take it.

“He was cute and charismatic. Something about him drew me in. My friends liked him at first, but slowly started to figure out that things weren’t right with him. They warned me, and I didn’t listen.”

“It’s hard to see when you don’t want to see it,” he says.

I nod. It’s nice to talk to someone who has experience with getting all wrapped up in someone else’s addiction. “Alexa told me he was manipulating me, but…I thought I saw a side of him that no one else saw, but really it was the other way around. Everyone in my life could see who he was, but I couldn’t. When they tried to get me to open my eyes, I fought them every step of the way, and when he started showing me his true colors, I didn’t want to believe it. And then…I was ashamed of myself for being so easily duped.”

Just thinking about that time in my life—which I try so hard not to do—makes me want to cry.

“He stole my rent money once, and I told my parents I had car trouble so they’d give me the cash to make up for it. He wasn’t good for me, and I wasn’t a good person around him. And all that is still following me around,” I say, looking around at the cabin.

“I’m sorry,” Hunter says.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” I say with a disbelieving laugh.

“I’m sorry that all that happened to you.”

“It didn’t happen to me,” I admit. “They were all consequences of choices I made at the time.”

“Hayley,” Hunter says. “You shouldn’t still be paying for that mistake.”

“Maybe. If I wasn’t here, Carson probably still would’ve managed to get someone wrapped up in this mess, and I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. So maybe it’s better it’s me, because I have you.”

I aim for lighthearted, but the compliment doesn’t land that way.

“Yeah,” he whispers with a hint of a smile.

“Can we talk about something else now?”

Hunter sits up straight in his chair. “Yes, absolutely. Uh…let’s see…if you could have any job in the world, what would it be?”

I don’t even have to think about the answer, I know it right off the top of my head. “You might think this is lame, but I don’t care. I really want to be a financial planner. I want to have my own firm, be my own boss in charge of my own clients.”

“Nothing lame about that,” Hunter replies with a smile. “Being your own boss is great. Not having to answer to anyone, being able to take my business in the direction I want to take it in without having to consult with anyone or get anyone’s approval is amazing. Why would you think I’d think it was lame?”

I shrug. “Just…having someone basically offer you the world on a platter and ask you what you’d pick? Saying you’d choose financial planning seems a little…safe.”

“Who cares if it’s safe if it’s what you really want to do?”

“Also, I’d be amazing at it.”

“So,” he says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table. “What are you doing to make it happen?”

“I’m an accountant at the moment. I got a job with a good firm, and I have a mentor. I’d like to get some experience in different areas before I try moving up. I’m interviewing with a potential mentor next month. I’m hoping she can help me climb my way up the corporate ladder.”

“A solid start,” he tells me.

“Where are you from?”

“Richmond,” he says. “My mom still lives there. My dad’s in Denver.”

“Oh,” I breathe. “I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay,” he assures me. “You couldn’t have known. They got divorced after my brother died.”

I nod sympathetically. My parents are still together, but I imagine the death of a child is a tough thing for a marriage to endure no matter how strong it is.

“What about you? Where are you from?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t you have a file on me that has all of this information in it?”

He honestly looks taken aback. “No. I knew some fundamentals about your relationship with Carson, and I found your address and had pictures of you for obvious reasons. That’s the extent of it.”

“Well,” I reply, “I grew up in Chicago. “My dad’s a biology teacher, and my mom’s a pretty well-known interior designer. They still live there in the house I grew up in.”

“Do you see them often?”

I shake my head. “Not really. Holidays, mostly. We aren’t super close. They just let me live my life and only step in when I’m making terrible life choices, which has only happened once or twice.” The aftermath of which I’m living right now.

“Least favorite food?” I ask, desperate to change the subject.

“Celery. You?”

“Cucumbers. Yuck.” I take a minute to think of another question. “Dream vacation location.”

He hums as he thinks of an answer. “Bali.”

I gasp. “Mine too!” I feel kinda ridiculous getting excited about something so random, but here we are.

Hunter laughs. “Seems like we have good taste.”

“Have you had to protect many people you know?” He told me he’s doing this job out of obligation to Carson; it makes me wonder how many other things he’s done for the people in his life.

“Absolutely not,” he replies quickly.

The sharpness in his voice surprises me. “Okay, wow.”

“No, it’s…” He shakes his head, seemingly realizing how he came off. “It’s kind of like how doctors don’t treat their own family members because their judgment gets clouded. It’s easy to lose sight of rational thinking when a loved one is on the line. It’s why I don’t protect my friends or family, and why I don’t date anyone I protect.”

His look lingers, and the air feels thick in my lungs.

“I’m even too close to this situation,” he admits. “A couple of my guys asked me if I wanted them to take over for me, but I need to see this through. Plus, this was supposed to be a non-violent mission—just remove you from harm’s way, take care of the situation, and bring you back when the threat was clear. I wasn’t anticipating the gunfire in the club. I wouldn’t have felt as good about it if there’d been more of a physical threat.”

“You would’ve had someone else guarding me if there was?”

Hunter nods. “Yes. I trust my people; any one of them could’ve kept you safe, but I wanted to be the one to do it.”

“You mentioned violent missions,” I say, twisting the hem of my shirt between my fingers. “Do you have a lot of those?” What I really want to know is how often he’s in danger of being shot, even though I know it’s probably best if he doesn’t give me an answer.

Hunter takes his time to work out an answer. “I’m an excellent fighter, and an excellent shot, but I do whatever I can to keep myself out of situations where I have to do those things. I don’t enjoy fighting with people, and I certainly don’t enjoy shooting at them, but my clients’ safety comes first. Sometimes we have to do difficult things. There are parts of this job that are difficult for people to reconcile themselves with. There are days when it might not be so easy to look at yourself in the mirror.”

I’m a little confused by the sentiment. “Criminals are criminals. If someone’s threatening to harm another person, they should be stopped.”

Hunter gives me a sad smile. “Criminals are human beings,” he says. “You can’t lose sight of that in this job. There are a lot of things someone who does this for a living needs to learn how to balance.”

He’s such a compassionate, caring person, all wrapped up in this amazingly attractive, lethal shell. I’m fascinated by him. “How are you doing with that?”

“The balancing?” he asks, amused.

“Yeah.”

After a long look, he says, “Some days better than others.”

Hunter’s phone rings, skittering across the table. He glances at the caller ID. “I need to get this,” he tells me.

Saved by the bell.