The Redemption of Rico D'Angelo. Michelle Douglas
raised an eyebrow.
He’d make sure her class started asap—next week if he could arrange it—but... ‘It won’t hurt for you to have a couple of pointers now. Remember, if someone does attack you, your primary goal is to disable them long enough to get away. You don’t want to stick around and fight someone who’s bigger and more experienced than you are.’
‘Right.’
He set her square on to him. ‘If your attacker comes at you from the front, like this—’ he made as if to grab her shoulders ‘—I want you to knock his arms away like this, then grab a fistful of his shirt and knee him in the groin as hard as you can.’
She eyed him doubtfully. ‘As hard as I can?’
‘Believe me, any jerk who tries to grab you deserves everything you can throw at him.’
‘Right.’
‘And scream. Scream your head off as hard and as long as you can.’
Nine times out of ten fear of discovery would have an assailant hightailing it for the hills. ‘Now turn around.’
She did.
‘If an attacker grabs you from behind, like this—’ he seized her around the shoulders, pulling her hard back against him and pinning her arms to her sides ‘—I want you to—’
He broke off as a growling, snarling dog hurtled towards them. Monty had been transformed from boisterous goof to frightening assassin in a blink, and Rico watched in frozen fascination.
Neen, however, was caught by no such abstraction. Before he had the wit to push her behind him she’d reefed out of his hold and boomed, ‘No!’ at Monty, holding one hand straight out in front of her like a traffic cop.
The dog skidded to a halt, kicking up sand.
‘Down!’ she commanded in a hard, loud voice, making a demanding downward motion with her hand.
Monty whined and pawed at the sand.
‘Down!’ She repeated the hand signal.
Monty lowered himself to the ground, resting his nose on his front paws, but his eyes remained glued to Neen.
‘Dogs work on a system of hierarchy,’ she told him in a much softer, more modulated voice.
‘Uh-huh.’ His heart-rate started to slow.
‘I need Monty to know that you’re higher in the food chain than he is, so he learns to treat you with respect.’
He swallowed. ‘Happy to help out in any way I can.’
‘Shake my hand.’
He did.
‘Now keep hold of it and bend down so I can kiss your cheek.’
He did as she bade and her scent hit him hard—a mixture of strawberries and oakwood...and dog. Cool lips touched his cheek and something in his chest lurched. Suddenly every bad-boy impulse he’d spent the last ten years repressing roared into ear-splitting life.
And then she moved away, although she kept hold of his hand. It gave him a chance to drag a steadying breath into his lungs. It was the beach. It had to be. All this sun and sand. It had been a long time since he’d stopped to enjoy either. And being here felt like a holiday.
‘Monty.’ She kept her voice soft and clicked her fingers. The dog immediately rose to nuzzle her hand. ‘Put your hand down to him, Rico, so he can smell it, remember it...and apologise.’
Rico did as she said, not the least afraid Monty would bite him now. Neen’s confidence had filtered into him, and he knew she wasn’t the kind of woman who would put anyone at risk. Monty promptly licked Rico’s hand.
‘Good dog,’ Neen said, finally releasing Rico and giving Monty a lusty scratch all the way down his back.
The dog groaned and arched against her. Rico didn’t blame him one little bit.
‘How come you know so much about dogs?’ he asked, in an attempt to take his mind off the curve of her hips in those jeans that she wore. The sun. The beach.
‘I grew up with them.’
‘But you don’t like them.’
‘That’s right.’
He watched as she pulled a tennis ball from her pocket. ‘Okay, Monty, let’s really wear you out.’ And she threw it.
Rico shook his head. ‘My teenagers aren’t going to know what’s hit them.’
* * *
Neen returned home from the beach with Monty early the next morning to find workmen waiting by her front door. Her palms turned clammy. She scanned the complex and its surrounds, but nothing looked out of place.
Except for the workmen. Her hand tightened about Monty’s lead as she approached them.
‘Are you Ms Cuthbert?’ one of them asked. At her nod he said, ‘We’ve been booked to fit new screen doors, as well as security systems to each of the five apartments here.’
She straightened. ‘Who hired you?’
He glanced at his clipboard. ‘The real-estate agency responsible for these properties.’ He named the company.
‘May I see?’
He handed the order form across to her. As he’d said, the agency’s name appeared in the requisite box, but she didn’t doubt for a single moment that Rico was behind this somehow. Exactly how escaped her, but she was starting to see he was the kind of man who got things done.
‘I’m Unit Three.’ She handed back the order form. ‘Shouldn’t you start at Unit One?’
‘The tenant in Unit One is away, and the real-estate agent isn’t available to open the place up to us until tomorrow. According to my records Unit Two is currently vacant so, again, we have to wait on the agent.’
Audra’s apartment. Or at least it had been.
‘If you have any enquiries I’ve been told to direct you to the real-estate agency. Do you mind if we start work now? It should only take us an hour...two at tops.’
‘Not at all.’ She had no intention of looking such a gift horse in the mouth. She unlocked her front door and gestured inside. ‘Be my guest.’
She sat in the courtyard with a pot of tea while Monty dozed in the patchy spring sunlight. On impulse she pulled out her phone and punched in the number Rico had given her.
‘D’Angelo,’ a voice barked without preamble, and for some reason she found herself having to fight back a smile.
‘Hello, Rico, it’s Neen here.’
‘Is everything okay?’
‘Yes, thank you.’
It was a long time since anyone had made her feel so cared for.
Her hand tightened about the phone. Wanting to be looked after, taken care of, loved, was what had got her into this trouble in the first place.
‘I...um...I just wanted to thank you. I don’t know how you managed it at such short notice, but the security company is here already.’
He didn’t say anything and her scalp started to prickle with self-consciousness.
‘Rico?’ The self-consciousness turned into something more sinister. If this was one of Chris’s tricks... ‘I...if you didn’t organise for a new screen door and security system for me, you’d better let me know right now.’
She’d have to ring the agency to check this was all aboveboard.
Which was what she should’ve done in the first place! What on earth had prompted her to ring Rico? Because he’d made her feel cared for? Her throat burned. Hadn’t she learned