Page 8 of Negotiating Tactics

That was the first thing I noticed when I peered into the kitchen.

Well, the second thing.

First thing that hit me was light, the blinding brightness in the room momentarily stunning me.

But just for a split second.

In the next breath, I focused on the figure in front of me, and when I got a good look, I almost turned and ran again.

This was not going to be easy.

The man—and there was no doubt he was a man—was huge.

Easily six-five, maybe even six-six, broad, and—if the strain of his shoulders against his T-shirt was telling—in phenomenal shape.

As I ran the odds, I reconsidered my plan.

At an even six feet and no less than a size 20 on any day, I was no pushover.

But this guy…

Not a fair fight, but at least I had the element of surprise on my side.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I gripped the umbrella and ran toward him, swinging with all my might.

Thud.

The sound of the umbrella hitting his shoulder gave a dull sound, one that stunned me—and him.

“What the fuck?!”

I’d been aiming for his head, but he turned at the last second, and when I saw his face, I froze, familiar dark eyes locking with mine.

“I—Why did you break in here!”

“It’s not ‘breaking in’ if you own the place and have a key,” he said.

The “he” in question—Noah Wilder—was rubbing his shoulder absently, which made me feel bad, though his intense stare lessened that guilt.

I’d hit him with all my might, and as best I could tell, he’d found it minorly irritating.

He gawked at me, his harsh features going even harsher as his gaze oozed incredulity.

“Is that an umbrella?” he finally asked.

His deep voice was a low rumble of shock, confusion, and annoyance.

I straightened and pushed my shoulders back, which reminded me that I was only wearing underwear.

His if I had to guess.

“I…had a limited selection of options to choose from.”

“So you chose to attack me with,” he looked at my hands, his face twisted, “an umbrella?”

“No, I chose to attack an intruder with an umbrella. That intruder just so happened to be you,” I said.

I gripped the umbrella tightly again, then shook my head and tossed it on the bistro table in one corner of the kitchen.