Men of Courage: Trapped! / Buried! / Stranded!

Actually, everything he’d done in the past twenty-four hours fell into the realm of the “not to be believed,” starting with getting rip-roaring drunk, and ending with Rosie in his bed. So what did one more idiotic thing matter?

It didn’t. Besides, his curiosity was too keen to keep him away. Luckily, Riley’s studio had an enormous front window, so he’d be able to see what kind of lessons Rosie was taking without her knowing he spied.

He could only imagine what she’d think if she knew. The silly goose already thought herself in love with him. If she thought, even for a second, that he returned that overly valued emotion…

Ethan grunted, but deep inside himself something warm had started stirring the moment she’d said those four little taunting words. Let me love you.

He knew it was only lust. And no wonder with the way she’d been coming on to him. An ordinary woman he could have withstood, but Rosie…he hadn’t wanted to chance it.

Nearly panicked, he’d sent her on her way with the explanation that he loved her, too—as a friend, and only a friend.

He’d looked her right in her beautiful blue eyes and lied through his teeth, telling her he didn’t want her sexually, that he saw her as asexual, like a pal. Totally sexless. No sex thoughts involved at all. Sex, no. Friends, yes.

Rosie was not stupid.

She’d sighed, patted his chest in a curiously tender way and told him she’d give him a little time to get used to the idea.

He had a week.

Then she’d dressed and left and he still didn’t know what the hell had happened last night in his bed. He’d be deranged with curiosity in a week. He had to find out something soon.

The sun was bright, baking down on his head and back. July had started on a heat wave that showed no signs of relenting. Shimmering hot waves rose from the blacktop parking lot. Ethan wore his aviator-style mirrored sunglasses, but still he had to hold a hand up to shield his eyes when he reached Riley’s.

There were few people out on this sweltering afternoon, so he stood alone on the sidewalk with only the occasional passerby. Still, he maintained a casual air of indifference so he wouldn’t look suspicious. The second he peeked inside, he spotted Riley rolling around in the middle of the mat with someone. It took Ethan less than three seconds to realize the person in the baggy T-shirt, snug shorts, sneakers and headgear was Rosie.

Calm control took a flying leap.

In three long strides Ethan had the door open and had advanced halfway across the gym. He ripped off his sunglasses to better see their shameful behavior. “What in the hell are you doing?” The rafters trembled with his bellow.

Riley, his head stuck between Rosie’s thighs, looked up in surprise. His voice was a bit strangled, due to the way she had her legs clenched tight around his neck, when he said, “It’s called the North South Position.”

He grunted, did a quick flip and ended up on top with Rosie peering at Ethan, her face red with exertion, her head now between Riley’s thighs.

Ethan gawked and fought the urge to bodily separate them. “That’s…that’s obscene.”

Rosie tried to buck Riley off—and that only made matters worse from Ethan’s perspective. His vision started to blur.

“I’m learning…leg…chokes,” Rosie managed to gasp around her panting breaths. To Ethan, it appeared her eyes were starting to water.

He was more than ready to intervene when they rolled again and Ethan had to jump to keep from getting caught in the fast-churning tangle of arms and legs. When they stopped, Rosie was on top and she had Riley’s arm caught in an awkward position, using her whole body to keep a steady pressure on it. Riley, around his strained laughter, cried uncle.

Rosie jumped up, punched a fist in the air like a world conqueror, and gave a ferocious battle cry. “Ha! Gotcha with a chicken wing.”

Riley stood, too, grinning from ear to ear, but he shook his head at her. “You hadn’t sunk it good enough. I could have gotten loose if Ethan hadn’t been standing here breathing fire.”

Rosie gasped in high indignation. “That’s just like a man to claim he lost to a woman only because of another man.”

Riley slipped his arm around her. “We’ll keep working on it.” He winked at Ethan.

At that particular moment Rosie wasn’t the least attractive. Her hair stuck out in crazy clumps around the headgear, some long tangled tendrils loose, some looped in and around the straps. Her face was flushed and there was sweat on her forehead and upper lip. The wrinkled, sweat-dampened clothes she wore couldn’t have been less appealing.

And Ethan wanted to throw her over his shoulder, smack her behind soundly, and remind her in no uncertain terms that she’d not only professed her love, but she’d given him a week to get used to it.

Instead, trying to hide his disgruntlement, he said to both of them, “If anyone taped your lessons, they could sell them for porn videos.”

Cocking one shapely hip and giving him a siren’s come-and-get-it smile, Rosie quipped, “Gee, honey, ya really think so?”

The pose should have been ludicrous given her present appearance. Instead, Ethan choked on a surge of lust.

Laughing, Rosie turned and sashayed her way out of the gym, heading for the showers. “Be right back.”

The second she disappeared from sight, Riley dropped against the wall and grabbed his shoulder with a loud groan. “Man, she about tore my rotator cuff. She’s good.”

Ethan stared at him. His eyes narrowed the tiniest bit.

Doing a double take, Riley asked, “What?” Ethan stared some more, no civil words coming to his mind or mouth.

“Oh, come on, Ethan.” Riley pushed his sweaty hair back and grunted. “I’m teaching her to defend herself with legitimate defensive and offensive moves. As a real estate agent, you know she finds herself with male clients in empty houses a lot.”

“Well, I hope if a guy attacks her, she doesn’t stick her face in his crotch. I seriously doubt that’ll deter him.”

Riley tried and failed to stifle his laugh. “She’s learning different ways to utilize the chicken wing—and as I said, she’s getting good at that. She’s also learning some good leg chokes. Usually, a woman who is attacked finds herself on her back with the assailant on top. I’m teaching her how to get out of that hold.”

It made sense. God knew, Ethan wanted her safe, but still…

“I’m also teaching her the Guard, the High Crotch Series and some Silat knife moves.”

“What’s the…never mind. I don’t want to know.” By silent agreement they moved off the mats and to a bench lining one wall. Ethan plopped down, stretched out his legs, dropped his head back against the cool wall and sighed. “Damn, I’m beat.”

Totally deadpan, Riley asked, “Long night?”

But Ethan was actually glad that he’d brought up the subject. Slowly, he swiveled his head toward Riley and opened his eyes. “Did Rosie tell you anything?”

“She’s not one to kiss and tell.”

“I didn’t kiss her.”

“No? Well, whatever you did, she wouldn’t be talking about it. I’ve never once heard her mention a date or what she might have done on a date, have you?” Rather than wait for a reply, Riley continued. “And you know, now that I’m thinking about it, that’s strange, huh?”

Ethan knew he’d rather walk into another burning building than think about Rosie with other men. It never failed to set him on edge. “We didn’t have a damn date, and I didn’t kiss her.”

Rosie reappeared, and Ethan thought she had to have taken the fastest shower in history. Then he realized she hadn’t changed, had only removed the headgear and combed her hair.

She was still sweaty.

“You,” she said, pointing at Ethan, “don’t know what you did.”

He snared her gaze with his own and wouldn’t let her look away. “So tell me, Rosie. Did I kiss you?”