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Chandler stepped up close and gave her an appealing smile. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you.”
“Do I look that nervous?” she asked.
He shrugged, not refuting or denying.
Folding her arms across her chest, Kylee tried for sassy. “I’m not some wussy girl. By the end of tonight, I’ll take you down and have you begging for mercy.”
A slow smile grew on his face. He knew she was bluffing, but he liked her words. “Sounds good, beautiful. I’d love to have you ‘take me down.’”
Kylee’s breath came quicker and the thought of somehow knocking him to the floor, then pinning him down and kissing him made her hot all over.
He edged in closer. “I can’t wait to be begging for mercy after you take me down.” His gaze trailed slowly over her, those irresistible eyes having the power to take her under. “I’ll be begging for mercy for my heart, that’s for sure. Because you’ve completely captured it.” His voice was husky and so irresistible.
Kylee blinked in surprise. Could he mean that? It was one thing for the ultimate player to tease and get every girl to kiss him, but would he really claim she’d captured his heart? It couldn’t be true. He couldn’t mean it deeply, not like she felt it. He was a natural flirt. End of story.La fin.
“Let’s focus on the self-defense,” she all but begged.
He studied her, but something in her demeanor must’ve convinced him to slow down on all the tender and beautiful declarations that she couldn’t fully process or internalize right now.
He cleared his throat and immediately got serious. “Okay. You’re going to be a lot smaller than your opponent, so you’ll have to fight dirty.”
“Unlike you with your big muscles and superior training.” He didn’t mean smaller—he meant weaker. Right? She’d never be defined as “small.”
“Hey, glad you call it like it is.” He sobered quickly. “Seriously, Kylee. I’ve been trained to fight since I was a child, and you can bet King Frederick and his bodyguards will have expert training as well. The sheer strength of a man is always going to be more than yours, even if he’s close to your same size.”
“Hey, I’m tough.” She folded her arms defiantly across her chest. She did Pilates, yoga, strength training, and walked. She wasn’t muscle-bound tough like King Frederick’s bodyguards probably would be. She hadn’t even thought about bodyguards; she had only worried about Mimi’s security guys.
“Even if he’s close to your same size,” ran through her mind.
That was telling. He was admitting she was short but not small.
Chandler’s eyes traveled over her like a warm caress. “You have a beautiful shape and it’s obvious you exercise and are strong,” he said.
Kylee backed up instinctively. He couldn’t mean that. She tried to be fit, but her body was smooth and rounded. She’d never been able to develop showy muscles, even when she’d gone to the gym faithfully for over two years and lifted heavy weights four to five days a week in addition to intense cardio.
“My sister and female cousins have the training to take down any man,” Chandler continued, “but they have to use different strategies and tactics. Men are naturally physically stronger. It’s the way the Lord built us so we could protect our women.”
She nodded, willing to accept it because there wasn’t any way to change the way men and women were physically built. The way he’d put it was a bit less acceptable.Protect our women?Was she just one of Chandler’s women? The thought churned her stomach but miraculously Mimi’s cutting words didn’t play through her mind. Had Chandler somehow ousted the nagging?
“So if someone is coming after you or has you in his grip, use anything you can think of to get free and cause damage.”
She drew in a breath and tried to look unafraid.
“Papa will have a knife sewn into your dress and tomorrow we’ll train on how to rip the seam and access it.”
Her eyes widened.
“It’ll be hard to think straight when you’re scared, but focus on vulnerable spots—the eyes, mouth, neck, groin. You’ve probably heard about people stomping on somebody’s instep, and that’s another good one. Especially with those high heels you like to wear.” He grinned as if her heels were irresistible. “If you can’t get to the knife, any kind of weapon you can see will be helpful—car keys, a kitchen knife, a tool, anything in your reach. Poke them in a sensitive spot and you should be able to get an opening to run. Bailey, Reed, and Klein will be in the house and the rest of us will be there quick if you’re in danger.”
It all sounded absolutely horrible. Grab a knife and poke someone in the eye?
“You look so innocent and scared.” His entire body softened, and he passed a hand over his face. “Are you sure you can do this? Papa can figure out a way to come up with another plan or Bailey can just go in.”
“It needs to be me,” she insisted, and she felt the truth of her words all way through. She was the only one who could waltz into that party like she owned the place and somehow she’d pray hard enough to have the confidence to get the hair from King Frederick but also to stand up to her grandmother. She squared her shoulders. “I’m going to be fine, Chandler, and I still think I can take you down.”
“You’re incredible.” His eyes filled with appreciation.
She wanted to hold on to this moment, but she needed to be ready for the party in less than forty-eight hours. “What should we work on first?”
