Page 60 of Knot Beneath the Mistletoe

A growl builds in my throat.

Mine.

She hasn’t seen me yet. She’s talking to Cherry at reception, fidgeting with the strap of her backpack. When she shrugs off her coat, I have to grip the heavy bag to keep from stalking across the room and covering her up again. The black tank top and leggings she’s wearing are all smooth lines, highlighting curves that make my mouth water. That tiny waist, the round breasts, those legs I want wrapped around me...

I’m moving before I make the conscious decision, drawn to her like gravity. She turns at my approach, and that smile—fuck, that smile ruins me. It’s all for me, accompanied by a pretty blush as her gaze drags over my tank top and arms. Her breath catches, just like it did at the bar, and satisfaction groans through me. Good to know I’m not the only one affected.

“Ruby.” I reach for her elbow, needing to touch her, to ground myself. “So happy you turned up.”

“Hey.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, trying for casual, but I can smell the nerves on her. Honey and cardamom, sweet enough to drown in. “Nice place you’ve got here. Very... intimidating.”

I chuckle, using my hold on her elbow to guide her away from prying eyes. “Wait ‘til you see the private training rooms.”

“Oh?” Her thin eyebrow lifts. “Mr. Chase. Are you planning to take advantage of me?”

The teasing lilt in her voice makes me want to show her exactly what I’d do with her in private. Instead, I lead her down the hallway to one of the smaller rooms, closing the door behind us. The padded floor takes up half the space—perfect for any practice falls.

“So, what made you finally decide to come for some training?”

“Oh, you know.” She drops her bag in the corner, stretching in a way that makes my mouth go dry. “Dealing with asshole cousins makes a girl consider her options.”

“You have any issues, let me know, and I’ll take care of him or anyone for you, angel.” The promise slips out, and the way her pupils dilate tells me she knows I’m not joking.

She glances up at me through those long lashes, and my gaze locks onto the pouty lips I haven’t stopped thinking about.

“I had no idea if you’d be at the studio, but I took a punt.”

“If I’m not on a job, I tend to come here either super early in the morning or late afternoons.” I move closer, drawn into her orbit. “How have you been?”

“Just dandy.” But there’s something off in her tone, a tension in her shoulders that makes my protective instincts flare.

“You want to talk about something?”

“Nope.” She pops thepplayfully. “What about you? How’s your lip?”

“Right as rain. Trust me, I’ve been beaten up a lot. I’m a tough son of a bitch to take down.”

Her eyes dance in my direction. “Oh, is that a challenge for me or game talk to scare me?”

The laugh bursts out of me. Fuck me, but I’m falling way too fast for this woman.

“Let’s start with some stretches, angel. Then we’ll see about taking me down.”

I guide her through basic warm-ups, and it’s torture of the sweetest kind. Every bend forward, even her arms in the air, brings her scent closer and makes me more aware of her.

“Relax your shoulders,” I murmur. “First, we’ll practice breaking a wrist grab,” I explain, moving to stand in front of her. “When someone grabs your wrist, most people try to pull away. That’s exactly what they expect.” I demonstrate by gently taking her wrist. “Instead, you want to rotate your arm like this—” I guide her through the motion. “And step to the side while pulling down and away. The movement breaks their grip using leverage instead of strength.”

“Like this?” She tries to copy my movement, but her form is off. She’s rotating her arm but not stepping properly.

“Here.” I press closer, my chest to her back, arms wrapping around her to adjust her stance. “You want to use your attacker’s momentum against them. Step with your left foot—” I tap her leg with mine, guiding her into the correct position. “Good. Now rotate and pull while stepping. The movement should be quick and fluid.”

My lips brush her ear as I demonstrate, and her sharp intake of breath goes straight to my cock. She’s trembling slightly. Her scent spikes with something sweeter, headier. Beneath the honey and cardamom, there’s the subtle, intoxicating scent of approaching heat. Does she even realize what’s coming?

“Let’s try it again,” I say, forcing myself to focus. “I’ll grab your wrist, and you execute the move we just practiced.”

I circle around to face her, reaching out to grasp her wrist firmly but not hard enough to hurt. Her skin is soft under my fingers, and I have to resist the urge to stroke my thumb across her pulse point.

“Ready?”

---