"When's the next time you're having a self-defense session with her?"
Never again is what I want to say. The memory of Jade beneath me on the mat, her body pressed against mine, the heat in her eyes. No. That road leads nowhere good. I haven't been alone with her since. Not because I don't want to. But because I want it too much.
"Been busy with the security overhaul," I deflect.
"Well, it's done now," Ethan points out. "And she needs something physical to help her work through the stress. Let her feel a little more in control again. I think you should restart the sessions."
"Or maybe she could just go for a run," I counter, refusing to be in an enclosed space with her again. "Fresh air. Change of scenery. Probably all she needs."
Mateo raises an eyebrow at me. "Since when are you the expert on what women need?"
I shoot him a look that would silence most men. Mateo, of course, just grins.
"Actually," Ethan considers, "that's not a bad idea. Being cooped up here isn't helping her state of mind."
"She hasn't left the property since we arrived," I point out. "Canceling appointments, working from home. It's a cage, even if it's a luxury one."
"A run could work," Ethan nods slowly. "With proper security protocols. Planned route, continuous check-ins..."
"I'll take her," I hear myself say before I've fully thought it through.
Both men stare at me like I've grown a second head. I'm a little surprised myself.
"You sure?" Ethan asks carefully. "I could..."
"I've got it." My tone leaves no room for debate. If I'm going to risk being alone with Jade again, it's going to be in the open air, not on a training mat with her body under mine.
Less than an hour later, I'm knocking on Jade's studio door, already regretting this decision. When she calls for me to enter, I find her hunched over a large monitor, surrounded by photography equipment. The room is filled with natural light, illuminating dozens of stunning black and white photographs on the walls.
She swivels in her chair, surprise registering on her face when she sees me. "Mr. Reid. This is unexpected."
"Declan," I correct her. After what happened in the gym, we're well past formalities.
She nods, a faint blush coloring her cheeks. She remembers too. "Declan. What can I do for you?"
"Get your running shoes," I say. "We're going out."
Her eyebrows shoot up. "Out? As in, outside the property?"
"That's generally what 'out' means, yes."
A spark of something, maybe hope, maybe excitement, flashes in her eyes before caution reasserts itself. "Is that safe?"
"You'll be with me," I say simply.
She studies me for a long moment, then nods once. "I'll go get ready."
Fifteen minutes later, she meets me at the front door in running tights, a lightweight jacket, and a baseball cap pulled low over her face. Her copper hair is braided down her back, and oversized sunglasses hide her eyes.
"Celebrity incognito look?" I ask.
"Standard operating procedure," she says, parroting my tone. Then with a cheeky grin: "So, where exactly are you draggingme, Commander?"
"There's a trail that runs along the ridge," I explain, leading her outside. "Five miles round trip. Good elevation gain. Minimal chance of running into others on a weekday."
"You've scouted it already?" She sounds impressed.
"I run it every morning," I say. "Part of the job is knowing the terrain."
