Born in Blood Collection Volume 1 - Cora Reilly Page 0,56

the changing room. The moment he was gone, I could feel the full force of the men’s attention shifting my way. I tried not to let them see how nervous their scrutiny made me and almost breathed a sigh of relief when Luca came back out, followed by a few men who pretended they didn’t notice me. I wondered what Luca had told them.

“Come.” He held the door open for me, and we walked into a low-ceilinged room filled with humidity and the smell of too many hard-working male bodies. I scrunched my nose up. Luca laughed. “We’re not catering to sensitive female noses.”

I grabbed my bag from him and walked toward a locker. Luca followed and set his own bag down on the scratched wooden bench.

“Aren’t you going to give me some privacy?” I asked, hands on the hem of my shirt.

Luca raised one eyebrow at me before removing his holster and then pulling his own shirt over his head, revealing his muscled and tanned torso. He dropped his shirt on the bench, then reached for his belt, that challenging look still in his eyes.

Gritting my teeth, I turned my back to him and slid my tank top over my head. I reached behind me to open the clasp of my bra, but Luca’s hand was there and did it for me expertly. Bastard. Of course, he could open a bra with one finger. I grabbed my jogging bra and put it on, trying not to think about Luca, who was undoubtedly watching every move. I stripped off my shorts and could have kicked myself for choosing a thong this morning. I pulled it down as well, and heard Luca sucking in his breath when I bent forward slightly. My cheeks blasted with heat, realizing what kind of view I’d just given him. I snatched a pair of the plain black panties I always wore when I worked out on the treadmill, then I put my jogging shorts on over them and turned back around to Luca. He’d put on black sweatpants and an ultra-tight white shirt that showcased his spectacular body. There was a bulge in his pants. All because of my butt?

“That’s what you’re wearing for self-defense lessons?”

I looked down at myself. “I don’t have anything else. This is what I wear when I go jogging.” The shorts were tight and ended high up on my thighs, but I didn’t like too much fabric when I ran.

“You realize I’ll have to kick every guy’s ass who looks at you the wrong way, right? And looking like that, my men will have a hard time not looking at you the wrong way.”

I shrugged. “It’s not my job to make them control themselves. Just because I’m wearing revealing clothes doesn’t mean I’m inviting them to look. If they can’t behave themselves, that’s their problem.”

Luca led me out of the changing room and toward the sparring mats. The men there immediately backed away, pointedly not looking at me. I followed Luca toward a display of knives. His eyes scanned them, then he chose one with a long smooth blade and handed it to me. He didn’t take one for himself.

He positioned himself across from me, looking utterly relaxed. He must have known everyone was watching us, but he acted as if he couldn’t care less. This wasn’t private. He had to put up a show for his men. “Attack me, but try not to cut yourself.”

“Won’t you get a knife too?”

Luca shook his head. “I don’t need one. I’ll have yours in a minute.”

I narrowed my eyes at his self-assured tone. He was probably right, but I didn’t like him saying it. “So what am I supposed to do?”

“Try to land a hit. If you manage to cut me, you win. I want to see how you move.”

I took a breath and tried to forget the men watching me. I tightened my grip on the knife, then I dashed forward. Luca moved fast. He dodged my jab, grabbed my wrist and whirled me around until my back collided with his chest.

“You don’t have my knife yet,” I gasped out. His fingers around my wrist tightened a fraction, uncomfortably but not painfully. His lips brushed my ear. “I would have to hurt you to get it. I could break your wrist, for example, or just bruise it.” He released me and I stumbled forward.

“Again,” Luca said. I tried a few times, but didn’t get anywhere close to cutting him. For my