No Contest

by Harper St. George

  “Oh, really?” She raised a brow. “The sex tape alone is concerning, not to mention your little fight two nights ago.”

  A blush rose on her cheeks when she mentioned the sex tape, but to her credit, she didn’t look away.

  “You’ve seen it?” he asked, the corner of his mouth kicking up. Her blush deepened and then her gaze flicked down to his crotch.

  Oh yeah. She’d seen it. His dick twitched in his athletic shorts, and he wanted to ask her what she’d thought of it. Had she liked it? Touched herself while she watched? That last thought took his erection from halfway to all the way there.

  But her response surprised him. “I’m sorry your privacy was invaded that way. I know you never intended that night to be public.” She sent him a sympathetic smile, and suddenly he was the one off balance. For a brief moment, he felt like an asshole for trying to manipulate her when she was only doing her job, and being kind to him on top of that.

  But the moment passed when she continued talking. “My point is, like it or not, you’re a media figure now. Your actions aren’t just about you—they reflect on the entire WFC organization. Both Coke and Warner Brothers are threatening to pull out of their contracts because of your behavior.” She leveled her gaze at him before bringing down the hammer. “It’s selfish, Leandro. Your actions could cost the league a lot of money, which in turn could affect a lot of other fighters. Fighters who don’t have anywhere close to the same means as you.”

  Her words hit home, and he shifted uncomfortably.

  “We need a course correction,” she continued. “We need to generate some positive PR in order to help people forget about the negative stuff—that’s why I’m here.”

  He nodded slowly, taking another bite of his apple. “So what’s your plan?”

  “I’ve arranged for you to make an appearance at the Sunrise Children’s Hospital here in Las Vegas.”

  He made a face. “Fine. What else?” He knew there had to be more than just that. Craig Darcy wouldn’t have hired a PR consultant to manage him if it was just going to be one event.

  “Over the next few weeks, you have several appearances coming up. I’ll be coming with you to help you manage any questions about the negative press, and . . .” She swallowed and licked her lips. “And to make sure there are no further negative events.”

  He opened and closed his mouth and then held up his hand. “Wait. Wait just a second. I’m fine with doing the hospital visit. But I can handle my own interviews, and I don’t need you to . . .” Shit, the English word he wanted was escaping him. “To . . . sit on me.”

  Their eyes locked, and his mind conjured up an image of her doing just that, and the air around them seemed to grow heavy. Her lips parted slightly, and just that tiny movement felt like a victory. There was something appealingly innocent about her, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. All he knew was that it made him want to wrap that blond hair around his fist and show her all the ways he could corrupt her.

  She glanced away, her cheeks pink. “Do you mean babysit?” she asked, an amused smile playing across her lips.

  He snapped his fingers and pointed at her. “Yes. Babysit. I don’t need you to babysit me.”

  “If that were true, I wouldn’t be sitting here.” She reached into her bag and pulled out a folder, setting it on the table between them. “Please read these over. They’re talking points and PR strategies I’ve put together for you.” She opened it and pointed to a business card tucked in the front. “If you have any questions, call me.”

  He plucked the card from the folder, smiling playfully at her. “You want me to call you, huh?”

  She rolled her eyes and stood. “This entire situation is of your own making, so if you don’t like it, you only have yourself to blame.” She leaned down, tapping her finger on the folder. “You can try as hard as you want, but you’re not going to be able to flirt your way out of this. Like it or not, I’m in charge.” She pushed the folder toward him. “Read it. I’ll see you Saturday for the visit.”

  Without another word, she gathered her bag and headed back into the house, taking her luscious ass and long legs with her.

  Well. He’d always liked a challenge.

  PLEASE DON’T BE an asshole. Please don’t be an asshole.

  That mantra had repeated itself in Ashlynn’s mind for the past twenty-four hours; pretty much ever since she’d stepped into the cancer ward on the fourth floor of the Sunrise Children’s Hospital the day before to confirm things with the community outreach coordinator. She’d seen the sweet little faces of the kids staring back at her and had imagined all kinds of horrible scenarios. What if Leandro was rude to the kids? What if he showed up pouting about having to be there? What if he walked in with his typical arrogance and was cool and aloof?

  What if this event had been a gigantic mistake?

  On paper, having Leandro spend time with the kids was the perfect solution to their problem. It’d show another side of him, a softer side that wasn’t shallow and self-absorbed. A side that was concerned with making a positive impact on the world. It wouldn’t erase the unsavory things he’d done, but it could help to paint a more complete picture of the man, giving fans and advertisers a reason to overlook some of the negative press. Now that it was time for the event to start, she was having serious doubts about it working out the way she’d planned. If it blew up in her face, she’d have no chance of working with the WFC full-time. Not to mention that the PR circle in Las Vegas was small, so it could affect her ability to piece together more freelance work.

  The lobby of the cancer ward floor was a giant community area. Nurses and staff bustled behind a check-in desk to the left, but the rest of the room was set up like a lounge with comfortable chairs and couches spread out over the space. A wall of windows kept it bright and airy. Each wall was painted a different color of the rainbow to match the brightly colored furniture and tile floor.

  Ashlynn had first arrived with a few WFC staff members about an hour ago to set up. They’d arranged the furniture around an open area where Leandro would show off his moves for the kids and the official WFC backdrop covered one corner so that Leandro could pose for photos with the kids afterward. They’d also brought in several life-size cutouts of the current champions, and some of the kids were walking through them now taking pictures with their parents.

  Her contact at the hospital had gently suggested having Leandro visit patient rooms before he left because some of the kids were too sick to participate in the demo in the common area, and Ashlynn’s heart had clenched. She’d tried to call Leandro the day before to go over everything, but he hadn’t answered and hadn’t bothered to call her back. If he screwed this up . . . She glanced at the news crew from KLAS-TV and the reporter from ESPN Radio who sat near them. A few MMA websites had sent their own reporters and photographers too. With fifteen minutes before Leandro was due to arrive, they all waited patiently, ready to film every second of her potentially giant screw-up.

  She needed to talk to Leandro before he walked in. Punching the button on the elevator so that she could meet him on the ground floor, she stepped inside and pulled out her phone. She’d texted him a reminder that morning, but he hadn’t responded. No surprise there. Ashlynn had considered the fact that Leandro might be so angry he’d bail, so she’d asked Jules to bring her fiancé, Nick Giannakis, the reigning middleweight champion, just in case. Her knees went weak with relief when she saw Jules’ text.

  ETA 15 minutes.

  Even if Leandro was a no-show, at least there’d be someone for the kids to meet and the day wouldn’t be a complete disaster.

  When the elevator doors opened, Ashlynn moved to step out, nearly colliding with a broad male chest. She gasped and wobbled on her heels, but a pair of strong hands grabbed her hips to steady her. She knew from the sizzle of electricity that zapped down her spine that it was Leandro. Her suspicion was confirmed when she looked up to see his strong jaw covered in scruff and his dark brown hair a carefully
arranged mess. Up close Leandro seemed so much bigger and more intimidating than he had the other day. She couldn’t see his eyes behind his sunglasses, but he raised a brow and smiled, revealing straight, white teeth. “Leaving already?”

  Her heart fluttered at his deep, smooth voice, and she was speechless for a minute simply from having the intensity of his attention focused on her. She’d felt it the other day at his home, but he hadn’t touched her then except to shake her hand. That had left her fingers tingling and her heart racing, causing her to realize just how acute her attraction to him was. But this . . . Not only was her heart was racing, but her nipples had tightened and heat moved through her, making her whole body come to life. He moved his thumb in a small sweep over her hip, and something pulsed deep inside her, begging for more.

  It wasn’t a good idea to get close to him, she realized. Not if she wanted the job Craig Darcy had promised her. That thought was driven home when the spicy scent of his cologne met her nose. He smelled like long nights in front of a fire, making love. Like champagne and long, hot baths. Like swimming in the Mediterranean. He smelled like decadence.

  Get it together, Ashlynn. One whiff of his cologne and she was in a Dior commercial. She took a step backward into the elevator and his hands fell away so she could think again. “No, I was coming to meet you.”

  One corner of his mouth tipped up, like he knew she’d been worried he wouldn’t come. He probably had. Making her worry had undoubtedly been his petty revenge for having to do this. “I don’t break promises, Ashlynn. I told you I’d be here.”

  She bit her lip at how much she liked the way her name sounded in his accent. He followed her into the elevator, and she realized he wasn’t alone. She recognized Sunya Leekpai, a Muay Thai trainer who frequently worked with the WFC, and said hello to him, thanking him for coming. He nodded politely in return. The other man with Leandro gave her a once-over that was vaguely insulting, and she disliked him immediately. She recognized him as one of the men who’d accompanied Leandro to the cage at his championship fight. He’d also been in the video clip of Leandro leaving the restaurant, laughing when Leandro gave his now famous sound bite to the paparazzo. Something told her he probably wasn’t the best influence on Leandro.

  “This is my friend, Thiago,” Leandro explained as he turned to stand beside her. Thiago transferred Leandro’s championship belt from one shoulder to the other, but he didn’t say a word.

  Ashlynn forced a smile and pressed the button for the fourth floor. “I’m glad you’re here a few minutes early. I wanted to discuss the plan.” As the elevator took them upstairs, she quickly went through the itinerary for the next two hours, trying not to breathe too deeply so she wouldn’t get another whiff of Leandro’s cologne.

  Instead of acknowledging her plan, when the elevator doors opened Leandro took off his sunglasses and looked at her. She was struck by the intensity of his blue-green eyes. “Relax, Ashlynn. Let life happen.” With those words he stepped out onto the fourth floor and the kids recognized him immediately. As their excited voices got louder, he passed his sunglasses to Thiago, who handed him the heavy championship belt.

  She followed everyone off the elevator, a little miffed by what he’d said. Who was he to tell her to relax? Maybe in his world everything happened without very much effort on his part, but in her world—the real world—people worked for a living and had schedules to keep. Besides, she was very good at relaxing. She just chose not to do it while she was working because she wanted to keep her job. Jerk.

  Her gaze narrowed as she watched him strut across the room to the demo area. Somehow he managed to look like he’d just stepped off a runway modeling workout clothes. He wore dark gray sweatpants that clung to his hips and emphasized the defined muscles in his backside, and a WFC-issued T-shirt that he’d modified to include the Brazilian flag on the sleeves. No doubt Craig Darcy would fine him for that. Again.

  Now that he was here, she wasn’t quite sure what she’d expected to happen. But after the hospital’s outreach coordinator introduced him, he smiled and stepped into the demo area as if he’d done it a million times. He was friendly and easygoing with the kids. He passed the belt around so that they could touch it and cracked jokes about how heavy it was. Then, instead of demonstrating moves with Sunya like she’d expected, he brought a couple of kids up and taught them some holds.

  “Oh my, someone knows how to work a crowd.”

  Ashlynn turned to see Jules approaching, and followed her gaze to the front desk, where a line of nurses had gathered to watch Leandro, all with infatuated grins on their faces. One even tilted her head a little, presumably to better appreciate his ass, and whispered to her friend, who did the same thing. Ashlynn smiled. “He’s doing better than I thought he would.” There was something appealing about watching Leandro be so gentle with the kids. Her glance went to the news crew, who had a camera trained on Leandro, and she hoped the footage would be enough to reverse some of the damage.

  “Me too,” Jules said, her gaze on Leandro as Nick walked up and put his arm around her. “I admit I thought it’d be an unmitigated disaster. I’ve never had any luck getting him to cooperate in the past. I’m glad I was wrong.”

  “I knew he’d be fine,” Nick said, a smile on his handsome face.

  “How’d you know that?” Jules asked.

  He shrugged and kept his voice low. “Oliveira wants to prove himself. He felt cheated by the way Gabe let him win the belt. He won’t do anything to jeopardize his chance to prove himself in the cage again. As long as there’s a risk Craig might take that away from him, he’ll behave.”

  Ashlynn watched Leandro let a kid get him into a headlock, feeling lighter as some of the weight of the task before her began to lift. Nick had just given her the key that would allow her to control Leandro, at least until his next bout.

  “Thanks so much for coming,” she said to Nick and Jules. “But it looks like he’s got everything under control if you have other plans.”

  “Nah, I’ll stay.” Nick waved at a kid who’d noticed him. “It’ll be fun.” Giving Jules a squeeze, he walked over to the demo area and challenged Leandro to a mock fight for the belt. Leandro played along and pretty soon they had all the kids laughing.

  “He always does this,” Jules said with a smile on her face as she watched Nick. “Kids adore him.” The love she felt for him was evident in her smile, and Ashlynn felt a tug of longing for that same love in her life.

  Ashlynn had found herself wanting someone special in her life for a while now. She thought she’d done everything right. She looked for responsible men to date who had steady jobs, reliable cars, and everything else her mother had drilled into her that she should look for in a guy. Her own father had been one of the most irresponsible men on the planet. A mechanic who’d drifted from job to job, he’d taken off with some motorcycle club in Southern California when she’d been six years old. She’d seen firsthand how her mother had struggled to raise her and her younger sister on her own. She didn’t want that fate for herself, but none of the responsible guys had worked out because they left her feeling bored and unfulfilled in a way she didn’t understand. And the few times she’d gone with her gut and dated guys who excited her had all ended in disaster. Every single one of them. There’d been the guy who’d constantly borrowed money, the guy who’d had a secret gambling addiction, and the guy who’d left her in some shady bar in Reno while he’d hooked up with a stripper.

  It was official: she had horrible taste in men when left to her own devices. Her self-preservation meter was broken, so she chose men who had no problem hurting her. It was probably why she was so attracted to Leandro. He was selfish, shallow, consumed with his own pleasure, and was everything she needed to stay away from. So why couldn’t she stop staring at his ass in those sweatpants?

  Shaking her head, she grabbed her phone to distract herself, intending to send a text to her sister to make sure they were still on for dinner that night. But there was a text wa
iting for her from an unidentified number.

  Can I come over tonight? – Jason

  Her heart jumped into her throat as she read the name. Jason. Her most recent mistake.

  Leave me alone.

  She typed out the words and then blocked him for the second time. Maybe it was time for her to change her number. She typed out a quick text to her sister to confirm their plans for the night and then spent the next several minutes talking to Jules about Leandro’s upcoming interviews and appearances. They’d moved to one of the couches off to the side of the room to talk, and she didn’t realize how the room had cleared out until one of the nurses approached.

  “Thank you again for arranging this, Ashlynn. The kids loved it.” The woman had plump cheeks and salt-and-pepper hair that she wore in a bun. She looked like a sweet grandmother, but Ashlynn knew she ran the floor like a general. She’d seen a few of the younger nurses pick up their pace around her.

  “I’m so glad they enjoyed it.” Ashlynn stood to talk to her. “Thank you for allowing us the opportunity to be here.”

  “Anytime, dear. I must say I’ve never watched a WFC program, but if these young men are an example of what to expect, I’ll be tuning in.”

  Ashlynn couldn’t hold back a laugh. She had a feeling the woman was talking about Nick and Leandro’s physiques more than their fighting skills. “Thank you. We’re always looking to reach new fans.”

  Ashlynn and Jules spoke with the media, answering last-minute questions before clearing out the room and moving the furniture back to its original spot.

  About the time they’d finished, Nick and Sunya emerged from a patient’s room at the end of the hall. Ashlynn thanked them again for participating and walked them to the elevators where they left with Jules and the rest of the WFC staff. Turning around, she gave the room a once-over to make sure everything was back where it should be. She frowned when she saw Thiago sprawled out on a couch, his attention on his phone’s screen while the championship belt rested next to him. Where was Leandro?