Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her PastA Real Live HeroIn Her Corner

by EMILIE ROSE

Kyle’s toes curled. He tried to look casual as he picked up another crayfish. “Can I ask what happened? Between you and the long-term boyfriend, I mean.” He told himself that he didn’t really want to know, he was just making conversation.

  Her lips curved in a small smile. “Antonio and I knew each other for years before we started dating. He was close to my brothers and trained at my grandfather’s studio. He was practically part of the family. Probably would’ve been, too, except he wanted me to stop fighting.”

  “Why?”

  “He said he didn’t want to see me get hurt. He kept going on about how it wouldn’t look right and how our kids would be affected.” Deep furrows appeared between her eyes. “When it came right down to it, it was him or fighting. I chose fighting.”

  “Your family must’ve been proud of you.”

  She snorted. “Not even a little. Antonio left the gym after we broke up. My grandfather was furious because he’d spent years grooming him to be a Fiore teacher. And my brothers...well, Antonio was practically one of them, you know? They all thought I should’ve done as he wanted. They thought I was being selfish.”

  “Seriously? They sided with him?” A tight knot in his throat kept him from saying more, which was probably a good thing. He didn’t want to speak ill of the Fiores. But he didn’t understand why Bella’s family would disapprove of her following the family legacy.

  He saw she was hurt, too. Her eyes had lost their sparkle. He wondered if it was because of her family or because of this jerk Antonio. He hoped it wasn’t the latter. If the guy really had cared about her, he wouldn’t have asked her to give up her dreams.

  She turned her head to catch him staring. “Something bugging you?”

  He startled. “What makes you say that?”

  “You were cracking your jaw. You do that and rub your tension points when you’re stressed.” She peered at him. “Still worrying about membership?”

  He decided to divert the conversation. “A little. The numbers are up, though, which is good, and today was terrific. We have you to thank for that.”

  She batted her lashes. “Aw, that’s sweet of you to say.”

  “It’s the truth. I only sweet-talk people I’m trying to sleep with...”

  He cringed. What was wrong with him? That was the old Kyle talking, the cocksure Kyle who could make a woman jump into bed on command. But Bella wasn’t the type of girl to do that, and she certainly wasn’t the woman he would have chosen to use that particular line on.

  “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean for it to come out that way. I should—”

  She punched him in the shoulder hard enough to rock him in his seat. “Relax, Coach. I know what you meant. You don’t have to play boss all the time.” She smiled broadly, picked up another boiled crayfish and ripped its head off, sucking the brain-filled cavity noisily as juice dribbled down her chin. Kyle didn’t know he could be revolted and intrigued at the same time, but he was.

  He didn’t know what this weird feeling was—it was like dancing on the tip of a knife hanging over the edge of a skyscraper. Exciting. Dangerous. Forbidden. But he was getting too close. He couldn’t make the same mistake with Bella as he had with Karla. But he also couldn’t deny that he was attracted to Bella.

  Why was he even still here? He’d made sure Bella had gotten home safe, fed her and stocked her fridge. He’d done way more than what was expected of a coach and an employer. The closer night crept, the more danger he put himself in.

  “I should go,” he said abruptly. “I...I have some things I need to take care of.”

  “Oh.” Bella looked surprised. “I’m sorry. I hope I wasn’t keeping you.”

  “No, no, not at all. I lost track of time. I was supposed to meet someone...”

  She raised an eyebrow. “Someone who isn’t afraid of frizzy hair?”

  Damn, he wasn’t thinking clearly. “I should get showered, cleaned up...” He was acting as if he were sneaking out after an awkward morning after. He tried for a smile. “This was fun. Thanks.”

  “Hey, you paid for dinner.” She sucked the juice from her fingers with a happy grin. “Least I could’ve done for you was let you get to first base.”

  His jaw slackened, and she laughed. “I’m joking, I’m joking! Man, Kyle, you need to lighten up. It’s not as if you’re trying to get in my pants.”

  “Good night.” He bolted out and took the slick stairs two at a time, nearly slipping and going butt-first down to the ground. When he climbed into his car and slammed the door, he gripped the wheel tight and breathed deep.

  His head cleared, and the southbound surge of blood eased. He did not need this. And he had to make sure his body knew it, too.

  February, he told himself. Bree will be here soon, and then you and she can get it on like rabbits in heat.

  First, a hot shower. Then he’d do exactly what he’d let Bella believe was on his agenda tonight—find himself a hot date, frizzy hair or no. If that didn’t pan out, he’d go for a light jog in the cold rain and then read the gym’s financials. That would kill his unwanted libido.

  He turned the key in the ignition. The car sputtered.

  He gave it another go. The engine whirred, coughed and died.

  He sat back. No. No, not his baby. His head fell back against the headrest, making a wet, splashing sound. He glanced behind him, looked down and moaned.

  An inch of water flooded the floor in the backseat.

  * * *

  “YOU’VE GOT TO be kidding me.”

  It wasn’t the reaction Hadrian had hoped for. From the moment Quinn had spotted him waiting for her at the airport arrivals terminal, she wore an expression that danced between pleasant confusion and dismay. “If you’re worried about being recognized with me, don’t worry—this is a private rental.”

  “Yeah, but a limo?” The driver of the white stretch limousine smilingly took her rolling carry-on from her and placed it in the trunk. “You couldn’t have come in a cab?”

  “I have long legs,” he said, keeping his smile bright despite the dimming happiness inside him. “Besides, what good is money if I don’t spend it?”

  She gave him that look—the one that told him she was neither impressed nor happy; the look that said she’d suffer his attention but only because he was so damned good in bed it was hard to say no.

  “Hop in,” he said, shooing the driver away from the door. He wanted to be the one to attend to her.

  He watched her shapely behind shimmy in, and despite the poor fit of The Suit, he couldn’t help reaching out and giving her butt a light slap before crawling in after her.

  “Back to my place, Jeeves,” he told the driver before rolling up the privacy screen.

  Quinn was busy opening and closing every compartment in the limo. She’d done the same thing when she’d first entered his home. Compulsively curious, she couldn’t help but stick her nose in every room and cupboard. He thought it was adorable, even if her insatiable curiosity was sometimes inconvenient when it came to his business or personal history.

  He opened the minibar. “Drink?”

  “Water,” she said. “Is there chocolate in there? I can never eat airplane food, and I’m starving.”

  “I’ve got dinner waiting at home. I had Chef cook your favorite—spaghetti and meatballs.”

  She gave him a wan smile and stopped rummaging to give him a peck on the cheek. He slid an arm around her waist and pulled her closer, settling his lips over hers. The kiss deepened, and she sighed.

  “Mmm, I missed you.”

  “I’ve only been gone a week.”

  “Too long.” He undid her top button. “Take off The Suit, will you?”

  “Hadrian, are you nuts? He’ll hear.” She indicated the driver with a nod.

  “You think this is the first time people
have made out back here?” He tugged at her burgundy blazer. He wanted to rip the thing and force her to let him buy something new but knew she wouldn’t appreciate that.

  She slipped off the blazer and shimmied out of the pants so that all she wore was the white shirt and cotton panties. So damned sexy, he thought, undoing the top buttons as she straddled him.

  Things were just getting good when he felt a buzz in his pocket.

  “Oh.” Quinn arched an eyebrow. “That’s different.”

  “Ignore it.” He knew he should have turned his cell off. It buzzed again, and he reached down to yank it out. He might’ve rolled down the window and tossed the phone out, but Quinn grabbed it and looked at the number. “It’s Blake Ames.”

  Blake was the card manager for the anniversary fight. Hadrian’s stomach pitched. Reluctantly, he took his cell phone from Quinn and answered. She slid off his lap and waited.

  A minute later, a headache pounding through his skull, he tossed the phone onto the seat and pinched the flesh between his eyes.

  “What is it? What’s wrong?” Quinn draped an arm across his back and ran her fingers through his hair, raking her nails lightly across his scalp. He groaned. “Maybe I can help you.” She leaned over and nibbled his ear.

  He closed his eyes and sank into the sensation. “Dodge is out.”

  Her stroking stilled. She drew back sharply. “You’re kidding me.”

  For crying out loud. Hadrian was his own worst cockblocker. “Broke his arm. He fell off a ladder while putting up Christmas lights.”

  Quinn winced. “Someone should’ve told him to wait until after Thanksgiving.” She studied him. “What are you going to do?”

  “Move the Smith-Burton fight up to the main event, I guess. They’re not as big a draw as Dodge is, obviously, but what choice do I have?”

  “Are you telling me that off the record?”

  He frowned. “I’m telling you because I thought you cared about my problems.”

  “Don’t get snippy, Hadrian, I’m only doing my job.” She reached for her pants and knocked on the privacy window. It rolled down a few inches.

  “Yes, ma’am?”

  “Sorry, change of plans.” She gave him the address of her apartment.

  “I thought we were going to have dinner, Quinn. Spaghetti and meatballs.”

  “I need to go home, get cleaned up and do some laundry.” Her cool tone got cooler as she donned her armor, pulling her arms through the sleeves of her blazer and buttoning her shirt.

  “You can do all those things at my place.” He was tired of her running out on him, of her putting her job before him.

  She flicked him an amused look. “You need to deal with this latest crisis. I’ll give you time to figure things out before I hit you up with questions. You’ll let me have the first kick at the can, right?”

  He scoffed. “Don’t I always?” He wasn’t about to beg her to stay. She needed him more than he needed her, after all.

  They dropped her off in front of her building, drawing a few odd looks from the residents loitering outside.

  Without Quinn to share his dinner, he had no desire to go home. He told the driver to take him to the office instead.

  It was going to take a lot of long hours to pull a miracle out of his ass and keep the show running.

  * * *

  “I DON’T KNOW about this,” Bella said, picking at the tight blue-and-green-sequined gown clinging to her.

  “You don’t like it?” Ryan studied her as if she were some kind of rare exotic flower, turning her this way and that, one hand on her hip. He adjusted the straps and gave the low-cut dress a downward tug, exposing yet more cleavage. The moment he let go, Bella tugged it back up.

  “I think it’s a nice dress, just not for me. It’s too flashy.”

  “It’s perfect. It evokes Carnival. It catches the eye.”

  “It makes me look like a half-plucked peacock. Besides, my parents would have a fit if they saw me in this. I wasn’t even allowed to wear makeup until I was twenty-one.”

  “Do you really care what your parents think?” Ryan smirked and tugged at her above-the-knee hemline. “Maybe we can take this up a little.”

  Bella didn’t answer him. Of course she cared what her parents thought, to a point. Regardless of that, this dress was not her.

  She swatted Ryan’s hands away. “I’m changing.” She went back into the dressing room, peeled the dress off and pulled on her street clothes. Her skin was chafing from trying on so many obscenely impractical dresses. She’d just pulled her T-shirt over her head when the change room door burst open. A hot mess of red, orange and gold flew at her.

  “How about this one?” Ryan brandished the gaudy dress like a sword.

  “Ryan,” she snapped. “This is a ladies’ change room.”

  He tilted his chin to one side and his lips twitched. “Relax, sweetheart, you were already dressed. And even if you weren’t, it’s not like I haven’t seen that before.”

  She folded her arms and stared him down. He relented at her diamond-hard glare and gave a melodramatic sigh. “Fine, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have barged in like that. But if you don’t want to be seen, lock your door next time.” He whirled back out, as if he’d been the wronged party.

  As far as she was concerned, a closed door was a clear sign that she didn’t want anyone intruding. But she let it go. He was already in a mood, and they’d been in that shop for over an hour. It wasn’t her fault none of the dresses suited her—she’d told him so forty minutes ago. But he’d insisted on making her try them all on anyhow.

  They walked out of the high-end boutique empty-handed, the saleswoman glaring at their backs.

  “You have to wear something to the UFF charity ball. It’s not as if you can show up in a rash guard,” Ryan said.

  “That event is weeks away. I don’t see why we have to shop for a dress now, much less go.”

  “The only way you get out there is by being seen, networking and making connections. If you want to leave an impression, you need to flaunt yourself. Make people notice. You know, dress for the job you want.”

  “What job is that? Slutty clown?”

  “The dresses weren’t that bad. Look, I’m your agent. Trust me, okay? I’ve been doing image consulting and PR for years. I’m not picking the skimpiest dresses I can find for you.”

  She’d hate to see what the skimpiest dresses looked like. “Well, it’s not as if I could’ve afforded them anyhow.”

  “You don’t worry about that. I would’ve bought it for you.”

  She gave him a quizzical look. Maybe he had a budget for wardrobe or something.

  After a too-pricey lunch at a fancy restaurant, Ryan insisted on driving her back to her apartment.

  “Thanks, but my bike’s back at Payette’s,” she said.

  “About that... You need to learn how to drive.”

  “I know how to drive, but I don’t need to. I get around fine on my bike.”

  “It’s not safe. And it makes you look ridiculous. You’re a powerful woman. You should be driving a powerful car—something that makes a statement.” He glanced her way. “It’s all part of the image, sweetheart.”

  A powerful car. Like Kyle’s convertible. She snorted, remembering how he’d humped back up the stairs and asked to use her phone to call Triple A. Poor Kyle had looked like someone had shot his dog as he watched his car get towed.

  “Where do you live?” Ryan prompted.

  “Take me to Payette’s.”

  “I’m taking you home. Tell me where you live.”

  “And I’m telling you, drop me off at Payette’s.” She wouldn’t give on this. She was tired and cranky and she needed to get away from Ryan’s smothering attention.

  He glared at her fo
r a beat, brow lowered. He yanked the car sharply left, tires squealing, and wove through traffic at high speed. At one point, he drove within a few inches of a guy on a bicycle, then cut in front of him, making the cyclist wobble and nearly tip over. He rang his bell furiously, and Ryan swore at him, even though the guy probably couldn’t hear him.

  Bella shot Ryan a look of disgust, gripping her knees tight.

  As he pulled up outside the gym, she opened the door before he even put the car in Park.

  “Not cool,” she said, getting out. She didn’t want to be with him another minute.

  “Wait, Bella...” His eyes flicked down. Maybe he’d realized his asinine behavior wouldn’t earn him any sympathy, apology or leverage. “I’m sorry, but I have a temper when it comes to this kind of thing. I’m concerned for your safety. You should know I’m only doing what I think is best for you.”

  She frowned. Some apology.

  “I’ll see you tomorrow for the photo shoot?” He gave a tentative smile.

  She looked him up and down, the way her mother sometimes did when she was displeased with one of her children. Forgiven but not forgotten, she thought. Still, she had to work with the guy, same way she did with Kyle. “Yeah. I’ll be there.”

  He was her agent, after all. Her success was his success, and he wouldn’t get paid until she did. And maybe he really was concerned about her career and welfare.

  She headed into Payette’s, trying hard to relax her face. No need to let Kyle see her irritation and have him interrogate her.

  “How was the shopping trip? Did you buy anything?” Liz’s face fell when she saw Bella had returned empty-handed.

  “Nada. I don’t even know why Ryan insisted on going out today.”

  Liz opened her mouth but then clamped it shut as Kyle walked in. He gave Bella a questioning once-over.

  “No, we didn’t buy anything,” she said.

  “Waste of a day.” He looked strangely pleased, giving her a wry smile. “Joe’s here. You wanna wrassle?”

  Music to her ears. After the morning she’d had, getting back on the mats with Kyle was exactly what she needed.