The Pleasures of Summer (29 page)

‘We’ll work on that,’ he promised her, then switched topics. ‘What training have you had?’

‘In what?’ She recovered enough to give him a look that suggested he was a particularly backward toddler. ‘I can speak four languages. I have an MBA in Transportation and Logistics. I can ride Western, classic and side-saddle. I can tell Beluga caviar from Sevruga, I can curtsy in a formal evening dress, and I know the correct form of address for any dignitary.’

Flynn sighed. He had really been fooling himself. ‘Laudable as all that is, and no doubt essential to the good of mankind, but I was thinking of self-defence training.’

‘I can dial 999 really fast,’ she said, but she looked away and there was a trace of colour in her face.

‘Not good enough. It’s time you learned the basics of how to look after yourself. After all, a woman who knows how to ride side-saddle must be in prime demand by kidnappers.’

Her eyes narrowed dangerously at him, but with very little argument, she agreed to allow him to teach her self-defence.

‘We’ll start with a warm-up,’ he told her, and led her outside. ‘We’ll go for a quick run to get the blood flowing.’ He set off, leading the way along the paths he knew so well from his childhood.

He ran easily, enjoying the feel of his muscles working smoothly and the rush of his breath in the pure Highland air. Thank god that, bar the odd twinge now and again, he was back to full fitness. His physical strength and stamina were so integral to his job that he couldn’t tolerate being injured. The thought of being permanently incapacitated bothered him far more than being killed.

At first, Summer jogged along behind him, keeping up for a while, then her steps began to labour and she fell behind. He slowed down to compensate. ‘Having trouble?’

She glared, sweat pouring down her face and sticking the T-shirt to her back. ‘You’re doing this to torture me, aren’t you?’

He suppressed a smile. ‘We’ve only run two miles. If you were a rookie training with me, you’d be running carrying a 50 kilo rucksack and we’d be going for fifteen miles.’

She didn’t have the breath to answer that, but her furious eyes spoke volumes.

He jogged along beside her. ‘First lesson. Where is the croft in relation to us?’

She came to a shuddering stop. ‘Are you telling me that we’re lost?’

Flynn laughed. ‘No. I know where we are. But the first
lesson is that you should always know where you are, and where safety is. Where is the croft from here?’

She looked around, a new awareness in her eyes, and pointed. ‘Over there.’

‘Good girl.’ She flushed. ‘You noticed that our path curved around, so the croft is not directly behind us. Remember this. Always know where you are, so you’ll know how to get home.’

He headed back to the croft at a slow jog, aware that Summer was cursing him as she panted along behind him.

Back at the croft, he gave her a glass of water, and then began the first of a series of drills.

In some ways, it was good that Summer hadn’t had any martial arts training before, so she wasn’t tied in to some of the more elaborate patterns. But it was scary how little she knew about how to defend herself. Flynn was determined to teach her how to stay alive.

‘Block, block and punch. Keep your thumb tucked outside your fist, not inside or you’ll break it.’ He showed her how to make an effective first, curling her fingers down and tucking the thumb underneath. ‘Keep your wrist straight when you punch. Use the first two knuckles and power it through your hips.’ He held up his hands and let her punch them over and over again. ‘Keep your feet on the ground and punch from the shoulder. You’ll get one blow, so make it count.’ He drilled her, making her do it over and over again.

‘I’m exhausted,’ she complained. ‘Can’t I have a rest?’

‘You think the bad guys will only attack you when you are fresh and well-rested? Twenty more minutes and you can rest for a while.’

Her punch this time was the first one which he felt. ‘Well done. Now you’re getting it.’

He continued, ‘First rule of self-defence. Don’t be there. Listen to your instincts. Don’t get into a situation where you have to defend yourself. Better to be rude than dead. But the second rule is that you are fighting for your life. No messing about trying to be nice. If you have to fight, you are the only one that counts. Do whatever it takes to get out alive.’

He showed her how to break an attacker’s nose and possibly kill him before he let her rest. That was probably enough for the first day.

Next morning, when she was making her morning dash to the latrine, he checked out the box of provisions Niall had sent. Excellent, there was more food and a nice change from the usual scrumpy: a bottle of Baileys, nestled into a freezer box full of ice. It was his secret pleasure and he didn’t give a damn that the guys of the Wing teased him about it. Hell, they could talk. One of them had a box of Tayto shipped by helicopter to some godforsaken place when they were stuck there over Christmas. Some of the other lads were worse than girls for chocolate, but no one gave them grief over that. Well, not without suffering.

As soon as breakfast was eaten and they were drinking their coffee, Summer announced, ‘I’ve come to a decision.’

He put down his cup. ‘Yes?’

‘We’re stuck here for the next couple of weeks, right?’ He nodded. ‘And I have no phone, no television, no internet, no Facebook, no Twitter, no Wii, no books to read, no access to a beauty salon, no gym, no yoga class, no shops and no friends. Have I got that right?’

He winced. It did sound bad. ‘You’ve got a personal trainer,’ he defended himself.

She waved that off. ‘Basically, I have a whole lot of nothing to do. While that has a certain novelty value, and
will no doubt do wonders for my stress levels, I’m already bored.’

‘We could go fishing.’

She gave him the look he deserved for that. ‘Fishing – the undisputed king of the boring sports. Yes, let’s do that.’ She shook her head. ‘No, I have something different in mind.’

‘Go on.’

She took a breath. ‘While we’re here, you’re going to tell me everything you know about kinky sex.’ She didn’t wait for him to reply. ‘The only advantage of this damned croft is that it’s private. So I want to do all the stuff I can’t do at home. And you can teach me.’

He had to admire her for being upfront. His resolve to keep her at arm’s length had barely lasted through the first week. The prospect of teaching Summer, of doing all of those things he had fantasized about, was too much to resist. His treacherous cock was already awake at the prospect. It was an offer no sane man could refuse.

‘After dinner, then. But first we have to find lunch.’ They went out looking for wild herbs, as if she hadn’t made that outrageous offer.

A change in the wind, bringing heavy black rain clouds in across the loch, sent them back to the croft for an early lunch. By the time it was cooked, the rain was beating down on the roof. They were stuck inside for the rest of the day.

The rain continued to drum against the windows long after they had cleared away the lunch things.

‘You know, I think it’s time we worked on one of your
weak spots,’ Flynn said, but refused to tell her what he had in mind.

Summer waited for a hint of what he was planning. Whistling cheerfully, Flynn went to the jeep and when he returned he was carrying the bag from London. The one with the guns and other stuff that she didn’t want to think about.

He set the bag down on the chair and unzipped it. From a small black case he produced a handgun. ‘A Sig Sauer 9mm pistol.’

Flynn unclipped the magazine before offering it to her. ‘You can touch it now. It’s not loaded.’

Summer reached tentatively for the gun. It was heavier than she expected. She handed it back to Flynn, trying to hide her distaste. His search of the bag produced what he was looking for and he gave her a speculative look before he produced a coil of rope and some dark fabric. He set both on the table in front of her.

The fabric proved to be a finely woven bag with a drawstring at the end, like the kind of bag in which she would store shoes or handbags. She guessed that it wasn’t for her Louboutins. Realization dawned and she knew how Flynn intended to use it. ‘No. Absolutely not.’

‘You need to do this in a safe environment. It means that you are less likely to panic if you ever encounter the real thing. And I promise to make it worth your while.’

Summer covered her ears. She didn’t want to know.

‘Look at me. There are four phases to a kidnapping: assault, transportation, captivity and release. The first and last phases are the most dangerous for a civilian. If you panic, you could be killed. I’m asking you to trust me.’

This was a dangerous Flynn, one that she didn’t know, but his voice was steady and calm and her instinct was to do what he asked.

‘What do you intend to do?’ She hated that her voice shook. She wasn’t a coward, but there were some things that scared the hell out of her.

‘I’m going to tie you and then put the hood over your head. You won’t panic because I’ll be here with you. I won’t leave your side for an instant.’

Summer bit her lip. Could she let Flynn restrain her? This wasn’t the same as the rope. This wouldn’t be playing. ‘And you’ll stop the minute I ask you to?’

‘You have a safe word. All you have to do is use it.’

She couldn’t say yes. That was the scariest word in the English language at this moment. Instead, she stretched out her hands to him.

‘Good girl, but we’ll get ready first.’ He piled more wood on the fire until it was a hot, crackling blaze. ‘And since this is going to be an experience you’ll never forget, I want you naked.’

Naked? She swallowed. Did he have any idea what he was asking? She badly wanted to refuse, but the thought of appearing a coward in Flynn’s eyes drove her on.

She stripped off and stood before the fire. The heat of the flames caressed her body.

Flynn’s eyes warmed with appreciation and something more, but he was all business as he wrapped the rope around her chest and waist, then looped it around her elbows. When he was finished, her arms were pinned at her sides. Her hands were free, but she couldn’t move them enough to do anything useful with them. He checked
the tightness of the ropes, sliding in a finger here and there to make sure it wasn’t too tight. He caught a knot at her back and pulled, and Summer had no option but to move back. She glared at him.

He grinned. ‘I might keep this on you permanently. It’s one way to keep you under control.’

She didn’t get a chance to reply, because he pulled the black bag down over her head. She had a fleeting impression of the smell of gun oil and linseed.

Darkness descended.

For an endless, timeless, horrifying moment, Summer couldn’t breathe. This was all of her worst fears coming together. She couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t hear, couldn’t even scream.

Then she was conscious of Flynn’s warm hands on her skin, his strong arms around her, his voice in her ear. ‘Good girl, I’ve got you. I’m here.’ It was muffled by the hood, but she could hear him. ‘Now breathe. Breathe with me.’

His chest rose and fell at her back, solid and reassuring. She made a heroic effort to quell her panic and concentrated on breathing in time with Flynn. She dismissed a random thought about how his lungs must be so much bigger than hers. Everything about Flynn was bigger. In. Out. In. Out. She could breathe. The panic receded.

‘My brave girl,’ said the voice in her ear. The hand on her stomach shifted and moved up to her breast. A sudden pinch on her nipple jolted her, igniting a spark of arousal in her pelvis.

‘Oh yeah, that’s my Summer,’ he said. Both hands now skimmed up and down her body, setting her skin on fire and causing the bones in her legs to dissolve.

She didn’t recognize herself. Here she was, naked and wearing a hood, in front of a fully dressed man with a gun. It should have been her worst nightmare, but all she could think of was getting him to continue to touch her.

‘More,’ she pleaded.

‘Oh, there will be much, much more,’ Flynn promised. ‘Here, let me make you comfortable.’

His hands supported her while he helped her to her knees, then stretched her out so that she was supported by a stool. It wasn’t what she had been expecting, but she did feel more secure than standing in the dark.

She turned her head, straining to make out what he was doing. It sounded as if he was rifling around the kitchen, searching for something.

‘Now,’ he said. ‘We’re going to have some fun.’

Something soft caressed her back. It was delicious, and she arched up, trying to get more of it. ‘What is that, a feather?’ she asked.

‘You think?’ he said, and she could hear the grin in his voice. ‘It would be a strange bird grew this feather. Here, feel.’ He put it against her hand, and she recognized the thin rubber strands of the little flogger she had bought in the hope that Adam would use it.

‘I had no idea.’ Her voice sounded muffled, but understandable. ‘I thought it would sting.’

‘Oh, it can do that too.’ She had no warning before the flogger flashed down on her bottom, bright and sharp. ‘But it doesn’t have to.’