Tangled Up Read online

  A project.

  I remembered that day Hunter had come over to me and wondered if he’d seen me that way.

  Was that why he’d found it so easy to walk away?

  Caroline glanced at her watch. ‘We’re all going out again tonight. There’s a new club in Soho. Are you coming?’

  I shook my head. I had to try and cure myself and the way to cure myself wasn’t to carry on immersing myself in the problem. And anyway, I’d had enough torture for one week.

  Instead I put my client through his paces and then decided to find a quiet place to train. I needed to let off steam. We stayed open until ten on a Friday, so I changed quickly and found an empty studio. I didn’t bother turning the lights on. Instead I practised kicks.

  I’m a black belt in karate—men don’t usually want to hear that—but I’d taken up Muay Thai only a few years ago. In Muay Thai we generally don’t kick with the foot. It’s full of small bones, easily breakable. We prefer the shin.

  There was a bag in the corner of the studio and after warming up, I started practising. The kick is the long-range weapon of Muay Thai and the most important things are speed and placement, so I focused on that.

  I thought I was on my own, so when I turned, breathless, and saw Hunter standing there, it was a shock.

  ‘Why aren’t you at the club with the others?’

  ‘Why aren’t you?’

  ‘I had a client. And I wanted to train.’

  ‘So let’s train.’ He strolled across to me with that loose-limbed easy gait that made my mouth water and my stomach curl with agonizing tension. As he walked across the room, I noticed he didn’t bother turning on the lights. The studio was in semidarkness, the only lights coming from the glow of the city.

  And now I was trapped.

  I could hardly tell him the reason I hadn’t joined them on their night out was that I’d thought he’d be there. I couldn’t change my mind without drawing attention to the way I felt. It was my problem.

  Dealing with it in the only way I knew, I turned back to the bag but he caught my shoulder.

  ‘No. Full contact.’

  In other words, he was giving me permission to kick him.

  I wasn’t about to object to that.

  Thai pad training is a classic way of teaching attack and defence techniques. It helps improve speed, mobility and reaction time.

  In theory the pads absorb the blows and minimize the force but I wasn’t sure there was enough padding in the world to protect him from the energy I was prepared to put into my strikes. I was handling a lot of pent-up energy.

  I waited while he strapped on belly pads intended to absorb punches, knee strikes and kicks and then I started.

  I didn’t hold back but that didn’t seem to bother Hunter.

  He stood rock solid as I came at him, coaching me, making suggestions, occasionally demonstrating a better technique.

  ‘You’re overrotating on your kicks.’

  ‘I am not.’

  ‘Too much hip turn without the shoulder and arm torque.’

  ‘Anything else?’ I turned, fuming and frustrated, and he smiled.

  ‘Yeah, you’re cute when you’re angry, Ninja.’

  The way he said it almost cut me off at the knees.

  ‘Don’t call me Ninja.’ And don’t call me cute. The words hovered in the air unsaid and his eyes held mine.

  Then he carried on coaching as if that moment had never happened. He gave me some tips he’d picked up in Thailand and I tried not to look impressed even though I was. Training in Thailand was my dream. Secretly I wanted to sit on him and torture him until he told me everything he’d learned but I didn’t trust myself to be that close to him.

  When I’d exhausted myself kicking the bag, we did clinch work. Close-up training.

  Believe me, you did not want to be doing that with someone you were trying to avoid.

  Without looking at that dark jaw, those powerful shoulders, I slammed him with knees, elbows, and then we were grappling and he tripped me.

  Holy crap.

  I fell onto the mat on my back and he came down on top of me.

  I knew from the hold he used that we were no longer practising Muay Thai.

  His gaze was fixed on mine and then he lowered his head and kissed me and his kiss was more devastating than anything he could have done with the rest of his body.

  There is nothing about this in a Muay Thai training manual. Seriously. Being knocked out just doesn’t mean this. He devoured my mouth with his as if I was the best thing he’d ever tasted, as if I were a meal and he couldn’t get enough of me. It was as wild as it had been that night in the changing room and somewhere in my blurred brain I realized he’d been holding back when we were together the first time. His tongue slid against mine and I was dizzy with the feel of him, the taste of him, the intoxicating heat of his mouth on mine. My heart pounded at an insane rate and any hope I had of hiding how I felt vanished. I wrapped my arms round his neck but the padding got in the way and I writhed under him, frustrated by the barriers between us.

  He shifted his weight so he didn’t crush me and then caught my face in his hand so I was forced to look into the fierce blaze of his eyes.

  ‘Is this what you want?’ His voice was thickened, his eyes darker than usual and I was so hypnotized by what I saw in those eyes I could hardly breathe, let alone speak.

  ‘Yes. But just sex, nothing else. I’m over you.’

  His eyes were dark as flint, hooded, slumberous. ‘Right now you’re under me, Ninja, which gives me the advantage.’

  He had all the advantage, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. This time around, I had myself under control. This time, he was the one right on the edge.

  The only sound in the room was our breathing. Beyond the glass lay the river and the crush of people that came out to enjoy London at night, but here it was just the two of us. We were alone, wrapped by excitement and smothered by a sexual tension that threatened to blow my brain.

  He eased away from me and hauled me to my feet. Then he reached to help me remove my pads but I stepped back.

  I did everything myself now. Everything.

  ‘I’m fine.’ My fingers were shaking but I managed it and he watched me the whole time, those eyes dark and assessing, as if he was making up his mind about something. Then he strolled across to the glass and stared down over the river. He leaned his hand against the glass and looked down into the street and I saw the rigid set of his shoulders.

  I knew regret when I saw it and this time I was determined to cut him loose. ‘Look—maybe you’re right. We should just forget it.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’ His tone was raw and he turned, his gaze burning into mine. ‘Is that really what you want?’ He prowled over to me until we were standing toe to toe. My skin felt sensitive and heat uncoiled low in my belly. The look in his eyes made my heart pound because I realized I wasn’t seeing regret.

  ‘I—well—’ I was stammering, torn between the lie and the truth. I couldn’t think with him standing this close. I couldn’t breathe. I licked my lips. ‘No. I don’t want to forget it. I wish…’ Oh, God, I was as bad as Brian, stopping in midsentence, but Hunter simply slid his fingers under my chin and tilted my face to his.

  ‘What do you wish?’

  ‘Like I said the other night, I wish I’d met you for the first time now.’

  ‘Why?’

  I gave a half smile. ‘Because we would have had great sex. You’re the only man I’ve ever met who isn’t threatened by my turning kick. I don’t scare you or threaten your masculinity.’

  He lifted his eyebrows. ‘That happens?’

  ‘All the time. My turning kick might not impress you but it’s a turnoff for some.’ I tried to keep it light and suddenly I didn’t feel like laughing.

  The truth was I longed for someone who liked me the way I was. Who encouraged me and supported me while I travelled the route I’d chosen instead of always trying to push me onto ano