It’s an idea I find more than a little intriguing.
“Did you ever bring Beth here?” she asks, interrupting that train of thought. “To this compound, I mean?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Before she came to stay on the island, Beth traveled with me, and I didn’t come here for a long time.”
“Why not?”
I shrug. “It wasn’t my favorite place, I guess,” I say casually, ignoring the dark memories that flood my mind at her innocent question. The estate was where I’d spent most of my childhood, where my father’s belt and fists reigned supreme until I was old enough to fight back. It was where I killed my first man—and where I came to retrieve my mother’s bloodied corpse twelve years ago. It wasn’t until I renovated the house completely that I could stand the thought of coming to live here again, and even then, it’s only Nora’s presence that makes it bearable for me to be here.
She places her hand on my knee, bringing me back to the present. “Julian . . .” She pauses for a moment, as though unsure whether to proceed. Then she apparently decides to forge ahead. “There’s something I would like to ask you,” she says quietly, but firmly.
I lift my eyebrows. “What is it, my pet?”
“I took lessons back home,” she says, her hand unconsciously tightening on my knee. “Self-defense and shooting, that sort of thing . . . and I’d like to resume them here, if possible.”
“I see.” A smile curves my mouth. My earlier speculations had been right, it seems. She’s not the same frightened, helpless girl I brought to the island. This Nora is stronger, more resilient . . . and even more appealing. I remember reading about her lessons in Lucas’s report, so her request is not totally unexpected. “You would like me to train you how to fight and use weapons?”
She nods. “Yes. Or maybe have someone else teach me, if you’re busy.”
“No.” The thought of any one of my men laying his hands on her, even in a teaching capacity, makes me see red. “I will teach you myself.”
* * *
I decide to start Nora’s training that afternoon, after I catch up on a few business emails. For some reason, I like the idea of teaching her self-defense. I don’t intend for her to ever be in a dangerous situation again, but I still want her to know how to protect herself if the need arises.
The irony of what I’m doing doesn’t escape me. Most people would say I’m the one she needs protection from, and they would probably be right. I don’t give a fuck, though. Nora is mine now, and I will do whatever it takes to keep her safe—even if it involves teaching her how to kill someone like me.
When I’m done with my emails, I go searching for her back at the house. This time I find her in the house gym, running on the treadmill at full speed. Judging by the sweat trickling down her slender back, she’s been going at this pace for a while.
Making sure not to startle her, I come up to her from the side.
Spotting me, she reduces the speed on the treadmill, slowing down to a jog. “Hi,” she says breathlessly, reaching for a small towel to wipe her face. “Is it time for the training?”
“Yes, I have a couple of hours now.” My words come out low and husky as a familiar surge of arousal hardens my cock. I love seeing her like this, all out of breath, with her skin damp and glowing. It reminds me of how she looks after a particularly messy bout of sex. Of course, the fact that she’s wearing only a pair of running shorts and a sports bra doesn’t help. I want to lick the droplets of sweat off her smooth, flat belly, then throw her on the nearest mat for a quick fuck.
“Excellent.” She gives me a huge smile and hits the ‘Stop‘ button on the treadmill. Then she hops off the machine, grabbing her water bottle. “I’m ready.”
She looks so excited that I decide to hold off on the mat fucking for now. Delayed gratification can be a good thing, and I did carve out this time specifically for her training.
“All right,” I say. “Let’s go.” And taking her hand, I lead her out of the house.
We go to the field where I usually work out with my men. At this time of day, it’s too hot for serious exercise, so the area is largely empty. Still, as we pass by, I see a few of the guards surreptitiously staring at Nora. It makes me want to rip their eyes out. I think they can tell—because they look away as soon as they glance at me. I know it’s irrational to be this possessive of her, but I don’t care. She belongs to me, and they all need to know that.
“What are we doing first?” she asks as we approach a storage shed in the corner of the training field.