The Farther I Fall by Lisa Nicholas Page B

hand, she pointed at the space where her thumb and forefinger met. “Take advantage of it. I’ll show you.” She let go of him and put his hand around her wrist. “Hold on tight.” He did, the heat of his fingers tingling against her skin. With a few twists of her arm, she was free.
    â€œShow me again.” She did. They went back and forth several times, Lucas watching intently, then practicing breaking free himself.
    â€œWhat about the hold you had me in earlier?” Lucas asked. “In my room. How do I get out of that?”
    Gwen laughed at him. “I thought you said you trained on this stuff.”
    â€œMaybe it’s been a while?” He grinned sheepishly.
    She shook her head and stepped behind him, grabbing his right arm and twisting it up again. “Easiest thing in the world,” she said. “Turn toward me.” He tried to turn to the right, but the pressure in his shoulder stopped him. “Other way,” Gwen said. “Towards your free arm.”
    He did, and something clicked in his face, because then he raised his free elbow as if to strike her.
    â€œThere, you got it,” she said, feeling ridiculously proud of him. “Again.”
    After a few rounds, he stopped. “Do you really think I’ll need this?”
    â€œI don’t know.” She wished she had something more reassuring to say. “Probably not.” Meeting his eyes, she gave him a short smile. “I might have a small tendency to overplan.” Which made for an awkward segue for what she needed to say next. “Lucas, I’d feel a lot better if you had someone with you all of the time. Just until this gets resolved.”
    â€œWhen you say ‘with me all the time’ . . .”
    â€œStaying in your suite with you, that sort of thing.” She said it fast, to get it over with.
    â€œWell.” The grin was obvious in his voice; she didn’t even need to look up. “If you wanted to move in, you could have just said so.”
    Gwen rolled her eyes. “I didn’t mean just me, but it looks like I’ve drawn the short straw for now.”
    â€œI guess I won’t complain,” he said.
    She cleared her throat. “Back to work—we don’t have much time.” She reestablished the hold she’d had around his wrist. “Now. Tell me what you’d do if you were facing more than one attacker . . .”
    ***
    An hour before dinner, Gwen brought her things down to Lucas’s suite. She took a breath and pushed the door open. Moisture hanging in the air and the patter of water from the bathroom turned her errand into a race to see if she could get settled and out of the room before Lucas finished his shower.
    When she was halfway through making up a bed on the large sofa, the bathroom door opened. Lucas stood in the doorway, barely clutching a towel around his narrow hips. God, this was going to be more difficult than she’d thought. “Uh, hi.”
    â€œOh. Thought I heard you come in,” he said. He walked over to the minibar and Gwen tried to ignore him, tried not to stare. The towel sat low enough to reveal the top of his arse. Her face flushed and her hands clenched like she wanted to hit something. Or someone.
    Lucas showed no signs of going to get dressed, and Gwen knew she was being watched. He said, “Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?”
    â€œNothing I haven’t seen before.”
    â€œOh, well in that case.” The towel hit the carpet. She rolled her eyes, but she looked anyway, as he meant for her to—and forgot to breathe. Seeing him in the tank top hadn’t prepared her. There was barely an ounce of fat on his body, muscles long and agile and defined. He wasn’t bulky, like some of the Yank soldiers she’d known, but lean and defined, a dancer’s body instead of a warrior’s—and gorgeous, all pale skin and dark hair. The monochrome