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“Now,” I groan against her ear. “Get away from me.”
“What? I can’t. You’re three times the size of me, Rafe.”
“Tell that to the guy who wants to hurt you, avecita.” She struggles a little, but it’s pathetic really. “Place your hands in front of your chest, and lift your knee until you can get your foot against the door.” She does it. “Now push.” She does, managing to shove me back a few inches before I’m right back against her. “If that doesn’t work, do the same thing, but this time, throw your head back.” She moves again, and I duck to the side as she throws her head back. I allow her to move us away from the door before I wrap both hands around her body, pulling her arms across her chest in a tight hold. “Good.” I kiss her neck and she trembles. “Now, how are you going to get out of this?” She thrashes around, but she has no wall for leverage, and she weighs no more than a rag doll.
After a few minutes, she lets out a frustrated huff. “I can’t.” She sounds so dejected.
“It’s all in the technique. Turn your palms to face down.” She does it. “Good, now thrust your hips back and use every bit of force you have to throw your hands down.” I loosen my hold slightly, and she goes through the movements, breaking my grip. When she turns around, she has the most brilliant smile on her face.
“I did it.”
“Good. I assume Carlos showed you how to get in a crotch shot.” She nods. “He likes that one,” I mumble.
“So now what?”
I lift a brow at her. “You get free, you kick him in the nuts, and you run.”
“Rafael.” She sighs. “I don’t want to run away.”
I lean against my desk and cross my arms over my chest. “What is this about?” She opens her mouth to speak. “And don’t lie to me.” Her mouth slams shut again, and she stares silently at me. “You don’t want to learn to defend yourself—you want to know how to fight. Why?” She folds her arms around herself and drops her chin to her chest. “Come here.” I crook my finger at her, and she hesitantly comes closer. Pulling her between my legs, I brush her hair away from her face. “Why?” I repeat quietly.
Her eyes lock with mine, and she looks so vulnerable. “My sister…”
“Isn’t going to harm you. She’s done a lot to get you back.”
“No. It’s not that.” She shakes her head. “You don’t understand. Una…she was always the strong one.” A small smile touches her lips before it falls. “When we were in the orphanage, they only used to feed us once a day. I used to get such bad stomach cramps, so Una would break into the kitchens at night and steal food. She never ate it herself though. She took enough that they wouldn’t notice—enough for me. And then the matron would sometimes find out. She’d beat Una with a belt until she bled.” She swallows heavily. “She’d just limp back to our room and go out that very night to steal more food.”
“She loved you.”
“She was always the strong one, Rafe. And now she’s this big bad assassin, and I’m still her weak sister. The only thing I’m good for is laying on my back.” In a heartbeat, my pulse spikes, taking my temper right along with it. My hand wraps around her throat, and her eyes go wide as I drag her so close that her rapid breaths blow over my lips.
My teeth grind together so hard that my jaw aches with the effort. “Anna…” Her nails rake over my wrists, and I force myself to loosen my hold just enough that she can breathe. “Please don’t say that.” My voice is a low growl.
“Rafael,” she whispers.
“Are you scared, little warrior?” I ask. I need her to say the words, to snap me from this.
Her eyes drop to my lips before her small hands cup my face, nails scratching over stubble. “Of you? Never,” she breathes. My grip on her throat loosens further, and she leans in, pressing her lips to mine. Pure and innocent. “I’m sorry,” she says against my mouth, and my anger instantly drops to a low simmer.
“You are not a whore, Anna. And you are far from weak. Your sister of all people will see that.” I wind my arms around her small waist, plastering her to my body. She still looks so dejected, and fuck if I’m not completely weak for her. This girl has so much power, and she doesn’t even know it. “But if you really want to learn how to fight, I’ll teach you.”
A small smile pulls at the corner of her lips. “You’d do that?”
“Under one condition.”
“What?”
“If you ever actually get attacked, you shoot, or you run.” She nods. “And I have another condition.”
She narrows her eyes. “You can’t just change the goalposts, Rafe.”
“If I hear you call yourself or reference yourself as a whore ever again, I’m done.”
Her expression shutters. “Done?”
“No more fighting.” I’d love to tell her that I’d walk away from her—that I’d be done with her. It bothers me that much. But I know it would be a lie. I’d never admit the level of my addiction to anyone, not even her, but I’m hopelessly in love with the broken little warrior. Men like me don’t often become weak, but it’s fitting that one as resilient and strong as her should be my one soft spot. I don’t know any man who could not fall in love with her. She’s infectious. Her lure, magnetic.
“Okay.” Her voice is tentative, unsure. She swipes her hair behind her ear nervously. “When do we start?”
