Maisey Yates

Billionaires: The Hero


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need to know how far apart you were. How much room you had to maneuver. That determines what self-defense techniques you use.”

      “Oh.” She thought back. “We were very close.”

      “Like this?” He took her wrist and pulled her to him. The brush of his tall strong body against hers sent heat rushing to her cheeks. Every nerve ending in her body flickered to life, making her so utterly aware of him she could hardly look at him.

      “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” she murmured.

      “Show me, Mina.”

      “We were closer than this.”

      “How close?”

      She stepped into him until every centimeter of their bodies were touching from chest to knee. Her breasts brushed against his chest, her hips rested in the cradle of his, and Dio mio, this was not good. He was too overwhelmingly male. And she was having the opposite reaction to him than she’d had to Silvio.

      “Where were his arms?”

      “One was on my waist—well lower,” she corrected hesitantly. “The other, I don’t remember.”

      Nate slid his arm around her waist. “We’ll go with this. This about right the way we’re standing?”

      “Sì.”

      He lowered his head and brought his mouth to within a centimeter of hers.

      Her heart stuttered. “What are you doing?”

      “Push me away.”

      Right. Dannazione, Mina—focus. She lifted her hand and pushed hard against his shoulder. It was like trying to move a brick wall.

      “When you are this close,” he told her, “you lose power. You have no room to maneuver. You either have to make space so you can attack him, which you aren’t going to be able to do in this situation, or go for the vulnerable points.”

      “Vulnerable points?”

      “My groin,” he said pointedly. “Try bringing your knee up hard and fast.”

      “No.”

      “You’re a gladiator.”

      She gritted her teeth and tried to lift her leg. She got exactly nowhere.

      “Not enough room, right?”

      She shook her head.

      “What are my other vulnerable points?”

      “Your face?”

      “Be more specific.”

      “Your eyes?”

      “And what else?”

      “Your nose?”

      “Yes, but the throat is better. A quick, hard strike against the throat—the Adam’s apple of a man in particular—is perfect. It shocks me enough to let you go. Gouging at the eyes is also good. Your goal is to stun me long enough to get away.”

      She nodded.

      “Let’s try it from the beginning.”

      “The beginning?”

      “You need to put yourself back in the scenario. Imagine it’s happening, remember the sequence and go for one of my vulnerable points. I won’t know which way you’re going to go, which gives you the element of surprise that you would have in that situation.”

      She pressed her lips together. “Okay.”

      He slid an arm around her waist and tugged her close. “Ready?”

      “Sì.”

      He brought his mouth down to hers, and this time he kissed her. Unlike the first kiss he’d given her in front of the registrar, this one was unavoidable, dominant, meant to simulate the one Silvio had given her. She trusted Nate. She did. Her heart pounded, anyway, at how helpless she felt. How much stronger he was. When he took the kiss deeper, made a claim on her she wasn’t willing to submit to, she stiffened, gathered her strength and slammed her right hand hard in his throat.

      Nate released her, his hands lifting to his throat. “Nice job,” he rasped, half coughing, half speaking. “I expected you to go for the eyes.”

      Mina stared at him, hands clenched by her sides, adrenaline racing through her. “Are you okay?”

      “Fine.” His gaze narrowed. “The kiss was necessary, Mina. It had to be real. To evoke the violent reaction it did in you so you could use your power.”

      She nodded.

      “And what did you do?”

      “I got away.”

      “What would you have done next?”

      “Run.”

      “Where?”

      “Out the front door. The house was empty.”

      “Exactly,” he said. “Move toward people. Help.”

      She unclenched her fists. Took a deep breath as she attempted to calm her body down.

      “You’ve just taken back your power, Mina.” Nate stepped toward her. “I knew the blow was coming and you still incapacitated me long enough for you to get away.”

      She nodded. Instructed her pounding heart to relax because this was Nate in front of her, not Silvio.

      “If you have that power,” he said, “you can choose who you trust. You can choose what situations you put yourself in. Not all men are violent. Some would only want to kiss you for pleasure—yours and their own.”

      She knew that. But the way she’d felt when Nate had just kissed her...

      “What?”

      She put a hand to her heart. “This panic. I know I can trust you and still I felt terrified.”

      “Like I said. Give yourself some time.”

      She forced a smile. “You’re right. I just hate giving him that power over me.”

      He was silent for a long moment. “Then don’t.”

      She blinked. “Scusi?”

      “You trust me?”

      She nodded.

      “Then get back on the wagon.” He took another step toward her, stopping just short of her personal space. “We’re attracted to each other, Mina. Intensely attracted to each other. But I am not Silvio. I can kiss a woman and walk away, no matter how hot and bothered I am, regardless of where my emotions lie, because I am in control of them. I would never hurt a woman. So,” he said deliberately, “kiss me right now. Replace that image of what happened with Silvio with a positive experience.”

      She gaped at him. “We can’t do that. We made a rule.”

      “So we break it for one kiss. The longer you let this eat away at you, the harder it’s going to be to leave behind.”

      She had a feeling that was true. She didn’t want to carry this victim mentality with her. Didn’t want to give it a chance to take hold. Because this Mina Mastrantino she’d been tonight was not the real Mina. The Mina who had chased away her childish ghosts in boarding school because there’d been no one else to do it for her. The Mina who’d learned to survive without love when it seemed like everyone around her had it but her, by telling herself someday she would have it, too. The Mina who was stronger than this.

      “Sì,” she said. “Let’s do it.”

      “Come here.”

      For a brief, heart-stopping moment, Mina thought she might actually be insane. Because this man was dangerous. Beautifully, undeniably, self-admittedly dangerous. Yet, she conceded, she trusted him implicitly.

      He