He was so stunned that he didn’t even realize what had happened until he stumbled backwards, bleeding from the corner of his mouth.
Fuck! Torran blinked, utterly shocked, and barely recovered enough to block her next blow. What the fucking hell!?
She wasn’t using her feet - that he noticed after barely blocking a few more of her strikes. Instead, she just levelled punch after well-timed punch at him. It was clear that she had experience fighting - and particularly in boxing. It was also a few seconds before Torran realized that, even though she’d gotten in her one hit, she was still coming for him.
Like a fucking Energizer Bunny.
For at least twenty seconds, Torran found himself absolutely transfixed. He stared at her, seeing her almost as if in slow motion, as she moved like a demon - right hook, left block, uppercut, uppercut…
He thought the worst time for him to be aroused would be during his workout, but Torran was quickly proved wrong as he felt himself rising in his shorts. He’d never stepped into the ring with a woman, let alone expected one to put up this much of a fight.
After he realized exactly what she was doing, however, Torran quickly recovered. He went from blocking her punches to anticipating them. Then he was moving around her, putting her on the defense as he looked for an opening. By that time, he had completely and totally forgotten his promise to go easy on her. Somehow, Savannah was skilled enough to put him on his guard, and that deserved his full attention.
That said, when he caught her in the stomach with his elbow, her grunt of discomfort as she lost her breath made him wince. Gasping, Savannah stumbled back against the robes and Torran paused, watching her carefully as he regained his breath. She was definitely a boxer, and that move wasn’t a boxing move. So, what the hell would she do now?
If he expected her to breakdown and cry, Torran was sorely disappointed. Savannah merely glared at him, her eyes glittering in something that looked strangely like excitement. Then, in a split second, she leapt at him, catching him around the waist and tackling him to the floor.
Ben’s shout of surprised admiration echoed around the gym.
Torran very suddenly found himself pinned beneath Savannah’s much smaller form, she was straddling his chest with unexpectedly powerful thighs. Though he knew, at this juncture, that it would be stupid not to pay attention to the fight, he couldn’t help but notice that his head was all but between her legs. Under different circumstances, he would be one happy fucking camper.
Just now, however, she was hell bent on pummeling the hell out of his face, and he couldn’t have that. He was already embarrassed enough that she’d even managed to catch him unawares not once, but twice during the same fight. He needed to end this before she either discovered he was hard as a rock, or he humiliated himself even further.
In a smooth motion, Torran shifted his weight so Savannah was forced onto the mat and their positions were reversed. All at once, he was pinning her beneath him, her torso folded almost in half as he restrained her demon hands on either side of her head. He was sure that it was pretty apparent from this position that his dick was all but screaming to be inside her, but if Savannah noticed, she said nothing.
She was too busy trying to catch her breath - at least, that’s what he told himself. Now that neither of them could move, he found himself staring down into her intense gaze, his eyes dropping to her slightly parted lips. What he wouldn’t give to kiss her - to lower his mouth to hers and taste all that raw aggression. To go even further and just rip her out of those tiny shirts and have his way with her right in the middle of the ring…
His mouth moved lower, and lower still, until he was only a hairsbreadth from her lips -
“I think Torran wins this one, fair and square.”
He snapped back to the present, realizing that Ben was still there, watching him all but maul Savannah against the mat. Savannah, too, seemed to snap from whatever haze had settled over her and began to struggle.
“Alright, alright. Get off me.”
It would be easier if she didn’t wriggle like that. It felt way too damn good for Torran’s liking. It took everything he had to release her and straighten. Even so, when her succulent behind grazed his prominent erection, he swallowed a heated growl, discreetly adjusting himself. “You might have won,” Savannah rose to her feet, her expression smug with victory. “But I landed a hit. Several, in fact. And you know what that means.”
As the true enormity of what had just happened dawned on Torran, a low groan escaped him. What the fuck? She had tricked him. Known he would underestimate her and gotten the upper hand. How was he supposed to know that she could do...that!?
“No complaining, Mr. Maloney.” She chastised him with a grin that was far too prideful for her own good. “You agreed.”
Torran wiped blood from the corner of his mouth, still somewhat disbelieving that he’d been so easily duped. “Where the hell did you learn to fight like that?” He could still feel the warmth of her body beneath him - still smell the faint tang of her sweat and perfume.
To his surprise, the stuffy little Miss Jones only winked at him. “Runs in the family.”
He had no idea what that meant, but Torran was going to make damn sure that he found out. “Now, come on.” Savannah ducked between the ropes, hopping to the floor as he stared after her.
“‘Come on’ what?” He demanded, eying her warily.
“We’re going to have a little chat. I hope you didn’t throw my report away-”
“I did.” He deadpanned, before she could get too full of herself. To his annoyance, Savannah’s smile only widened.
“Good thing I brought an extra one, then. Ever prepared.”
Torran couldn’t decide if he wanted to kill her or fuck her brains out; but one thing was sure: If he was going to be spending any amount of time with her in the future, he was going to have a shit ton of frustration on his plate.
And that he didn’t know if he could handle.
Chapter 6: A New Leaf
“Alright, don’t forget to smile.”
“Whatever. Ow.” Torran flicked as Savannah popped him upside the head, glaring at him in warning. It was on the tip of his tongue to aggravate her even more, but by this time, he knew better.
And that was no small triumph. “I’m serious,” Savannah re-emphasized, her tone booking absolutely no argument. “You look terrifying like that. Would it kill you to smile every once and a while?”
“Would it kill you to stop bossing me around?” The young woman swallowed the sound of frustration that welled in her throat. She didn’t want to fight today. This was progress, she told herself. Definite progress.
In the two weeks since they made it public that she was Maloney’s publicist, Savannah had been buried under a veritable mountain of work. She’d only barely gotten the man to agree to a semblance of something like the plan she’d set out for him when the offers started pouring in. It seemed like the world wanted to see how Torran Maloney would fair in the public eye with someone to rein him in, and Savannah had no choice but to answer the call.
Mind you, she’d barely been able to keep a fight he got into just the previous day out of the papers. The man had a particularly hard day at his office building and thought it might be a good idea to take it out on a man who had gotten a little too friendly with him at a bar. She had been up half the night negotiating with the owner of the bar on how much in damages would be paid to keep the episode out of the media, and she was still waiting with bated breath to see it if worked.
If the prospect of working with Torran had been terrifying, actually doing it was a whole different level of intimidation. Certainly, hitting him a few times had felt good, and the look on his face when she beat him at his own game had been priceless; but taking that into account, the man seemed to have been trying to make her life into a living hell since then. He was never on time for their meetings, and purposefully tuned her out when she tried to coach him on how to be more likeable.
> He had cancelled a big appearance on television on a whim, and she spent the next week running around trying to clean up his mess.
But, as much as the man utterly infuriated her, she had to admit that he’d come a long way from outright disrespecting her. If anything, knocking him around had taught him not to underestimate her.
He might fight her, but Savannah fought right back.
Just as her father had taught her.
“It’s my job to boss you around.”
Torran merely glared at her out of the corner of his slitted blue eyes. “Aye and make my life a fucking nightmare.” Despite the fact that he was far too mouthy for his own good, his muttered comment made her stomach do a little flip of awareness. It was something about the way he spoke - filthy mouth or not - the way his Irish lilt elongated vowels and clipped other words almost in half...Savannah had never thought she might find an Irish accent sexy. Spanish was sexy, French, for God’s sake, was the language of love.
And yet, here she was, getting her panties in a bunch over some foul-mouthed Irishman. “I got you on Jimmy Kimmel, didn’t I?” She rebutted, watching a woman flit around him as she put the finishing touches on his makeup backstage. Not that he needed it, in her opinion. Torran was plenty attractive enough without all the extra stuff - now, if he could only speak a single sentence without fouling it.
“And how, I’ll never know. I’m convinced you poisoned someone with that serpent’s tongue of yours.”
Savannah merely glared at him, even as his makeup artist simpered at his very nearness. In the short amount of time she’d spent with Torran, she realized the obscene effect he had on women. He made them want to flash their boobs and ride him into the sunset. It must be something about his bad boy allure. And he was a bad boy. Deplorably so. One of her most difficult duties as his publicist was fielding the complaints of the board members at his company, of which there were plenty.
But she couldn’t just make Torran be nice. It was clear that wasn’t in his nature. Hopefully, in time, she could take a bit of his edge off.
Hopefully.
“Five minutes until you’re on, Mr. Maloney.” One of the producer’s poked his head into the dressing room to warn them, and Savannah’s heart leapt into her throat.
She herself didn’t know how she managed to get Torran on Jimmy Kimmel; a lot of sleepless nights and calling in favors she’d almost forgotten and here they were. She’d even surprised Carthright when she told him - and that had been one of the greatest moments of her life. Now that she had gotten her chance, Savannah wasn’t going to let it go to waste, difficult client be damned.
“You try to put lipstick on me one more time,” Torran suddenly growled at the makeup artist, who was attempting to plump his lips, “I’ll smack your arse. Get out.”
If the way the small woman tittered was any indication, she might like that very much. At Torran’s surly look, however, she quickly cleared out, leaving them alone for the first time all evening. Stepping forward, Savannah bent to straighten the tie he wore. For such a brute, she had to admit that suits looked quite good on his broad frame. Clad in blue silk that matched his eyes, he was enough to make any woman swoon.
As long as she didn’t really know him. “Please, try to watch your mouth, Maloney.” She warned him, her gaze flicking up to him to find him watching her closely. That was another thing about Torran that slightly unnerved her. She would catch him staring at her with the utmost concentration at the oddest times - when he was supposed to be spacing out or she was trying to get him to sign something. That look of his was enough to make her squirm - to make her wish she was the one on the receiving end of any ass-smacking.
The very thought made her blush as she continued quickly, willing her thoughts back to the matter at hand. “If they have to censor every other word, it kind of ruins the point of an interview. And look at the camera, please. You have a lot of female admirers and I’m sure they all want to see your face.”
“Will you calm down?” She was surprised when he took her wrists in his firm grip, stopping her motions. “Your damn fidgetin’s making me nervous.”
“I’m not nervous,” she immediately snapped in self-defense, and Torran barked a laugh.
“Horse shit. You’ve been bouncing off the walls for the past forty eight hours. Have a drink or something.”
Savannah forced herself to take a deep breath. He was right - even if she didn’t want to admit it. She was trusting this man to make or break her career, and his temperament wasn’t the most encouraging, to say the least. If he looked bad, she looked bad, and that would be the end for her.
“I’ll have a drink after. Now, let me go, please.”
Torran merely rolled his eyes, doing no such thing. “You’re so damned polite.” He spoke the word almost as if it were a curse, his gaze moving over her in a way that made her very dowdy brown shift feel insubstantial. “One day, you’re going to run into a man who doesn’t give a fuck, and then what are you going to do? Ask him to kindly let you go while his head’s between your thighs?”
Though Savannah’s first impulse with any other man would be to slap the hell out of them, with Torran, she only reddened, yanking once against his grip before he finally released her. “You have about two minutes,” she countered, changing the subject. “You’d better get out there.”
With a sigh, Torran straightened his cuffs before standing. Every time he did so, Savannah was reminded how enormous the man really was. He was one of the largest in his weight class for good reason, and that bulk served him well in his fights. When she herself was in the ring with him, she was surprised when she took him down. Then again, it had been no easy feat, and she had the bruised ribs to prove it. “Wish me luck, darlin’.” When he winked at her, she merely rolled her eyes.
“I wish you good sense and a clean mouth.”
“What the hell fun is that?” With that jaunty comment, he strode from the room, and all Savannah could do was follow in his wake. She stood on the edge of the stage behind the set as Kimmel introduced him and welcomed him to the show. There was a crack about Torran’s sheer mass before he took a seat and the spot began.
Savannah’s heart was in her throat the entire time. She was waiting for him to go on a streak of cursing or say something inappropriate, but, funnily enough, the man seemed to be holding his own. After a minute or two, she was finally able to take a deep breath, and after five minutes, she actually let herself listen and enjoy the segment.
Torran could be...charming. When he wasn’t cussing up a storm, that was, or threatening everyone in his general vicinity. Even at his company, where billion dollar deals were made every day, people feared him going off on violent verbal tangents - something she was trying to fix.
But it was no small task.
Torran Maloney was...trying, to say the very least. The only time he really seemed happy was when he was training, and she could hardly talk to him then, so intense was his focus. But during those times, Savannah often found herself guiltily content just to watch him.
The way his muscles contracted when he moved was nothing less than glorious, and she envied every droplet of sweat that trailed over his shoulders and stomach to disappear into his waistband and beyond…
Jesus Christ, she was not thinking about what Torran was packing right now. She must have utterly lost her mind. Though...Savannah would be lying to herself if she didn’t admit how amazing it had felt to have the man atop her, bearing her to the mat with all of his sizeable strength. She wondered if he would be as demanding in bed as he was in almost every other arena of his life…
“And I hear you’ve got a new publicist.” She jerked as Kimmel finally broached the one subject she feared. The man grinned at Torran. “How’s that going for you?”
Savannah held her breath. “She keeps me on a short leash.” She was surprised when Torran merely smiled, grousing good-naturedly. “Less cursing, less drinking and general fun, but hey, it got me on Kimmel didn’t it?”
As the audience laughed at his joke, the young woman found herself oddly touched. He hadn’t insulted her or dragged her through the mud. On the contrary, it almost sounded like he was trying to pay her a compliment.
Would wonders never cease.
The segment only lasted for five minutes more, and by the time Torran was finished, there was no question that it had been a success. Savannah had to keep herself from bouncing up and down in triumph. He had only cursed twice, and both times had actually been pretty funny. When Torran walked off the stage and back into the prep area, she was grinning like an absolute loon.
“That was perfect. Perfect, Torran! I’m so proud of you!”
At her enthusiasm, he merely smirked, letting a tech stand on his toes to remove his mic. “What am I, a fucking toddler?” Now that he was off stage, charming Torran appeared to have fled, and he was back to his old ways. “If you really wanted to reward me, you’d plant one right here.” He tapped his cheek in invitation and Savannah merely rolled her eyes, waving him off superfluously.
Scottish Swag Page 23
