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Let her deal with it, Bax told himself, but he found himself reaching out to rub his hand comfortingly over her back. “If he was a pro, he’d have found a way.”

Joss turned back to him. “He didn’t have to because I made it easy for him. That’s why I’ve got to be a part of this.”

Her face was pinched and pale with misery. It was the face of the hurt kid, again, looking back at him, and all he wanted to do was fix things. “We’ll get it back,” he said helplessly, knowing there couldn’t be any other outcome.

“It has to be we, Bax. It can’t be just you. Gwen already did more than her part. Now I have to do mine. I need to know that I was a part of it.”

“You will be,” he assured her with a sinking heart and folded her against him. “We’ll do it together.”

C
LOUDS DRIFTED IN
as they sat in the
torg,
watching the tour boats come and go from the dock.

“So how are you doing now?” Bax asked and kissed the top of her head. “You okay?”

“What, with the gun thing?” Joss stirred and grinned at him. “I’m tougher than you think, Bax. I’ve played some truly scary dives, slept on the street, even gotten mugged once. There’s not a whole lot that gets to me.”

At their feet, a pigeon trundled along, searching for crumbs on the pavement.

“So what’s with the whole music thing? You mentioned it last night, too.”

“My brilliant career, or at least that was the plan.” It was increasingly embarrassing to talk about, increasingly discouraging to realize that she’d devoted seven years of her life to music with almost no success. How clueless did that make her?

And where did it leave her now?

“So what were you, a singer? A musician? Both?”

“A singer. Or maybe just wanted to be. I was going to be the next big thing, a huge star.” She sat up and leaned forward, elbows on her knees. “It didn’t quite work out that way.”

“Band broke up?”

“Bands,” she corrected. “I’ve played with one group or another all over the Pacific Northwest.”

“How long?”

“Seven years.” Her smile held no humor. “I’m a slow study sometimes.” How she’d loved performing, the feeling when everything clicked, the band in a groove, the audience feeding into it. It had been because of those magical nights that she’d had such a hard time finally giving it up. “I just really loved doing it,” she said wistfully.

“Then why quit?”

“Because sooner or later you’ve got to admit that it’s not going to work, you know?”

“Couldn’t you work a day job and still perform nights?”

She reached down to pick a small stone up off the cobbles, rolling it between her hands. “I suppose. The problem is the day job. I don’t really know how to do anything.”

“College?”

“A year. I dropped out of the drama program to go on the road with the first band. We were going to do a spring and summer tour of small clubs. I never went back. Used to do street theatre for food money.”

“Street theatre?”

“Merlinda the Magnificent.” She held up the stone between her thumb and forefinger and passed her other hand across it. “Voila!” The stone was gone.

“Nice.”

“Oh, I was a big hit on the pedestrian mall circuit. I probably made more money at that than singing.”

“So what comes next?”

It was the question that kept scaring the hell out of her. “TBD. The last band went kaput the week before I came back to San Francisco and went to work for my grandfather’s store. It was supposed to be a temporary
gig while I got my act together, only I managed to screw everything up.”

“We’re going to fix that.”

“And then all I have to do is decide what to do with my life,” she said wryly.

“Sooner or later, we all do.”

Joss tossed her hair back and rose, catching his hand in hers. It wasn’t in her nature to be gloomy for long. “This is not a crisis. I’ll work it out. Sorry to bend your ear.”

“You weren’t bending my ear. It was educational.”

“Educational?”

“Joss Chastain 101.”

“You’ve been doing very well in the course so far.” They began walking toward the waterfront.

“Thanks. I’ve been studying.”

“That’s good. There’s a practicum coming up, you know.” She leaned in for a quick, teasing kiss. “It might be very involved,” she murmured against his lips. “Maybe we should go back to the room.”

He ran his hands down her back. “Maybe we should.” They turned toward the hotel. “Of course, now that I know you’re hell-bent on doing risky things no matter my advice, I’m thinking that there’s a better course to take.”

“A better course than making love until we’re both cross-eyed?”

He cleared his throat. “Different, anyway. How about Defense 101?”

She gave him an amused look. “You’re going to teach me how to kick ass?”

“That might take a little more time than we’ve got. What I can do is teach you a few nasty tricks that might help you discourage the bad guys long enough to get away, though. Come on.” He picked up the pace. “Let’s get to the hotel.”

“I like the sound of that,” she said.

I
NSIDE THE
Royal Viking, they walked across the elegant lobby and into the elevator. Bax didn’t punch the number for their floor, though. He hit the button for the top floor.

“Wait a minute. I thought we were going to the room.”

“There’s not enough space there to do what I have in mind.”

“There’s enough space in our room to do what I have in mind.” She pressed him against the elevator wall and traced his lips with the tip of her tongue. “In fact, there’s enough space here.” She felt the stir of his cock against her, and that quickly, all she could feel was need.

The chime sounded and the doors opened on the top floor. Joss hit the button for their floor. “Back down.”

Bax put his hand in the door. “Let’s do this first.”

“Can’t it wait?”

“Look, waiting for you to get yourself in trouble is already making me old before my time. Let me at least teach you a few things so I can let you out of my sight.”

It gave her a little pulse of pleasure. “Why, Bax, you’re worried about me.”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” he muttered, a little flush creeping up the back of his neck as he walked down the hallway ahead of her.

Inside the emergency exit stairwell, they climbed upward the last few flights until they reached the top landing and the door that barred their way.

“You know,” Joss said conversationally, “I can’t read a lick of Swedish but there is an English translation there that says if you push that crash bar you’re going to make an unholy amount of noise and have every security guard in the hotel down on us. Maybe we’d better go back to the room and try it there.”

Bax gave her an amused look. “Who said anything
about a crash bar?” he asked as he pressed one palm against the door and pushed it open.

“Well,” she said.

“It’s one of those security tricks. Makes life easier on the maintenance guys and the warning signs scare off all the amateurs.”

“Are you saying I’m an amateur?”

“You’ve got potential.”

“I might surprise you. I might just decide to become an investigator. What would you say to that?”

“I’d be scared.”

“Damned right.”

The roof was broad and open, covered with some sort of grayish white pebbly tar paper. At intervals stood boxy heating and air-conditioning units and other structures too mysterious for her to identify. Near the edge of the roof, where the hip-high wall met the verdigris-covered facing that surrounded the outside roof, stood the Royal Viking sign. It towered over them in slanting cursive letters. By night, it was outlined in neon; by day, it was black sheet metal, with a line of metal rungs climbing up the slanting sides of the letters, just about where a stepladder would end.

“Their name in lights, huh?” Joss asked, slipping off her jacket and tossing it down at the foot of the
R
.

“Something like that,” Bax said.

“Okay, sensei, tell me what to do.”

The top she wore was white and stretchy and left absolutely nothing to the imagination. He watched her breasts rise and fall with each breath and shook his head. Business first, pleasure later, he reminded himself.

“I can’t teach you martial arts in an afternoon. What I can do is teach you ways to hurt an attacker. You want to think about things like jabbing the eyes, chopping at the
throat, hitting the nose with the heel of your hand. Sudden, surprising pain. It makes the eyes water and triggers an involuntary protection response. If someone’s behind you, jab them with an elbow, stomp their foot with your heel.”

“I stomped the mugger back in Portland,” she said helpfully. “He let go of me real quick. I think I broke something in his foot. I don’t know, I didn’t stay around to find out.”

“If you’re dealing with someone trained, like Markus, this kind of stuff will only take you so far, but it’s good to know.”

“What about someone trained like Markus? How do I deal with what happened in the park today?”

“There’s only so much you can do about a gun. He had you in a come-along hold, though, and we can talk about that.”

“That was something else. Hurt like hell every time I tried to get loose.”

“It’s supposed to.”

She grinned. “So how do you get out of it? I finally just stopped moving.”

“That’s the first part. You need to relax your arm, above all. A wristlock is designed to make you work against yourself. The more you do, the more you hurt. If you fight it, you can break your wrist.” He wrapped his hand around her arm in a light wristlock, feeling the surprisingly fragile bones of her arm under his fingers. He liked her when she was spitting and fighting. He didn’t like noticing her fragility. It unnerved him. “So if the bad guy has you in a wristlock, you want to rotate your arm like this and yank your hand against the thumb. The thumb is weaker than the rest of your hand, so you’ve got a chance to break the grip. Here, try it.” At first, he had to shepherd her through
the move, but surprisingly quickly she was able to break his grip with a quick motion.

“Looks like I’ve got it. Do I get a reward?”

“What do you want? I’m all out of chocolate treats.”

“I’ll settle for something noncaloric,” she murmured, leaning in to press a kiss on him.

It was always new, the way she tasted, the way she felt, the way her avid mouth moved under his. He’d been with other women before, but somehow Joss stood out. Somehow, Joss erased all the others, as though there were only her, ever before and ever after.

“So how do you break this hold?” Joss whispered, licking his earlobe.

By keeping the end point in sight. Bax raised his head. “Let’s move to the next topic. What if someone’s trying to throttle you?”

“This isn’t some deep-seated urge of yours, I hope.”

“You’re safe for now,” he said dryly. “So come on, what do you do?”

“Apply pain,” she said promptly. “Poke the attacker in the eye or stomp their foot.”

“Good idea. The down side is that you might miss or the assailant might be out of range. Breaking loose before applying pain is better. Think, now. You want leverage. Move one of your feet back behind you. That’s called Hidden Foot in martial arts. Look, let’s do it. I’ll put my hands around your neck.” The slender column of her throat was soft beneath his fingers. Her pulse beat against his palms. The slanting letters behind them threw shadows over the gray tar paper of the roof. “Okay, now slide your left foot back. See how you pivot a little so your right shoulder comes toward me? If I’m a bad guy and I’m shaking you, I won’t notice. Now here’s the payoff. Take your right arm around and over my hands, scything, like
you’re trying to touch your left hip. Do it fast and all in one motion.”

She whipped her arm up and over, knocking his hands down and away, taking him by surprise.

“It worked!” she said delightedly.

“It did. You’re a fast learner.”

“I’m a woman of many talents,” she said, giving him a bold gaze.

“The thing to remember is to do it fast and hard.”

“I always thought slow and hard was the ticket,” she said with an entirely naughty look in her eyes. Her hands strayed to his belt buckle. “Shall I demonstrate?”

“You’re a bad influence,” he told her and pulled her to him for a long, deep kiss. When he felt her soften, he turned her in his arms to cradle her from behind, kissing her neck until her head fell back against him helplessly. “You should watch out,” he murmured in her ear. “Kissing can be dangerous.” He slid his arm up around her neck. “Now let’s talk about choke holds.”

Joss’s hands flew up to his arm. “Dirty trick, Baxter.”

“There’s no one to make your opponents play fair,” he reminded her. But she wasn’t playing fair, either. Her hair was against his mouth, fragrant and sweet. He glanced down to see the tempting curves of her breasts. Desire tugged at him.

“Any time, sensei,” Joss said and he shook it off.

“All right. I’ve got you in a choke hold.” He wrapped his free arm across her taut body.

“It feels like a hold, all right.” She slid her right arm down his side and over his butt. “Is this a kinky sex thing?”

“Pay attention,” he said, as much to himself as to her. “You might need this some day.”

“Kinky sex?” She slid her hand over his thigh and into his crotch. “Or maximum persuasion?” Quick as a snake, her hand surrounded his cock and balls. And she waited.

Bax stood absolutely still. “Careful.”

“Mmm. So, what was that you were saying about playing fair?”

“It’s bad form to emasculate your instructor,” he said in a strained voice.

“Is that what’s happening? It feels like something else,” she murmured.

Indeed, under the heat of her hand, his cock was beginning to twitch and lengthen. She rubbed her fingers over the denim and the slight friction had him taking a breath. The second time she did it, he stiffened and tried not to think about her touch and what he could do with the woman in his arms. The third time she did it, he gave up.

Bax let his hands slide down over her body, feeling the lush curves of her breasts. It was ironic that he was teaching her self-defense. He was the one who needed defense, because when he got around her, his better sense went out the window and all he could do was want. Focus on the job, he thought, edging his fingertips under the hem of her tank. He managed pretty well most of the time, but when she was unzipping his jeans and sliding his cock into her mouth it just made him dizzy and work was the last thing on his mind. Instead, his world was wet heat and slippery friction that stood his hair on end as he looked down to see himself disappearing into her mouth, looked down to see her beautiful eyes, a glimpse of her breasts, the wonder of this gorgeous, sexy, amazing woman at his feet.

When he feared he was the one who was truly helpless.

He reached a hand out to brace himself on the slanting side of the
R
and touched her head, caressing her hair before stilling her motion. “Wait,” he said hoarsely. “I want to be in you.” He dragged out his wallet, fishing out the condom he’d tucked there even as Joss eeled out of her jeans and thong.