“You’re right. He’ll say only that he’s former Israeli military, but I suspect he was more than that. He started a Krav Maga class right after he opened the dojo. It draws a lot of guys to the late night classes.”
“Excellent.”
Natalie couldn’t see his face in the dark SUV, but his excitement was evident in his voice. “You know Krav Maga?” she asked curiously.
Marc snorted a laugh from his seat up front, and she saw Christian grin in response.
“I’ll take that as a ‘yes,’” she said dryly.
“Marc and I picked it up from a mutual friend in Europe. I’d be interested in meeting your Alon,” Christian said casually.
“Alon’s not mine. He’s a friend.”
Christian leveled a smug look in her direction, and she cursed under her breath. Why had she felt the need to tell him Alon was only a friend?
“When are the next Krav Maga classes?”
Natalie thought for a moment. She’d been staying up all night for nearly two years, working with the vamps, and yet, she still lost track of the date sometimes. “Today’s Friday, right?”
Christian nodded. “And the gala is tomorrow,” he reminded her.
“That’s okay. The advanced Krav Maga classes are Sunday and Wednesday nights.”
“We’ll go on Sunday, then. “Did you bring your gear?”
“I have a locker at the dojo, but the Sunday class is too heavy for me anyway. I’ll watch you guys, instead.”
“We’ll do our best not to embarrass you,” he said, but he didn’t sound all that worried about the possibility. And why would he? He made walking down the hallway look like an exercise in athletic grace. She could only imagine what he’d look like on the mats.
She glanced up when the lights of the estate came into view, and her hands tightened into fists in her lap. As if sensing her unease, Christian covered her fists with his much larger hand, tugging her fingers open as he linked their hands together.
“You’ll go directly to Jaclyn’s office. I spoke to her before we left the house, and she’s contacted Anthony to let him know you’ll be meeting with her. So he’ll be expecting it.”
Natalie almost groaned. He’d rearranged her schedule without consulting her, before he’d even discussed the possibility with her. But she didn’t see the point in saying anything to him about it. He was who he was. She wasn’t going to change that. She wasn’t even sure she wanted to. And besides, in this case, she was glad to avoid seeing Anthony.
“Jaclyn’s guards will be there, naturally,” Christian continued, obviously trying to reassure her. “And once my meeting with Anthony and the others gets started, Marc will join you.”
“I’m not worried,” she said, trying to reassure him back. “How long do you think—?”
“I won’t know until I see what Anthony has planned. If it’s the straight briefing he claims it is, no more than an hour.”
“And if it’s something more?” she asked, suddenly worried more about Christian’s safety than her own. “What if it’s another set-up, like before?”
“Then I’ll fight. But I don’t think Anthony will come out into the open like that again. Not tonight, anyway. And I am not without resources of my own, chére.”
Marc pulled the SUV around to the side of the big estate house, stopping in the same lot where her own car was parked, between the main house and the former servants’ quarters. The lot was a yellow-lit blot on the otherwise elegant estate, something Anthony had added after he took over the territory. It was practical, but ugly.
“Your cell phone,” Christian demanded, and she turned it over automatically, scowling as an afterthought. She really had to stop doing everything he ordered.
She watched as he tapped in first his cell number, then Marc’s, then added her number to his phone. Marc passed his phone back, and her number was typed in there, too. When Christian handed her phone back, she checked the directory, and laughed out loud at what he’d typed under his own number.
“Lord and Master?” she read, quickly deleting the entry and typing his name instead.
“It seemed apt.”
“You are so deluded.”
“Or prescient. Take your pick.”