Prepared to Fight

by E. J. Shortall

  “Damn moody athletes,” I mumbled to myself.

  The silence in the car was oppressive. I felt like, yet again, Nate was erecting an invisible barricade to keep me away. Every time he showed a glimmer of anything more than a friendly or professional relationship between us, I thought the wall was coming down. But then he would build it up and pack it out, making it thicker and more impenetrable than ever. Eventually it would crush me.

  “Marc, can we have some music on please?” I asked, leaning forward in my seat to speak to our driver.

  “Certainly, Miss,” Marc replied in his heavy French accent. I’d always loved the French accent; it was so sensual and seductive. He pressed a button on his steering wheel and the car immediately filled with the soothing sounds of an orchestra. Sitting back, I smiled, dropping my head back against the head rest and letting the music soothe me.

  Nate shifted in his seat, the leather creaking as he did so. The weight of his gaze felt like a boring machine tunnelling into the side of my face as he watched me.

  “What are you doing, Liv?”

  “Enjoying the silence,” I replied, trying to sound bored.

  His gaze remained level as he observed me from across the seats. Watching, contemplating.

  “Oh for goodness sake,” I snapped a moment later. “This is ridiculous. What’s the deal here, Nathan? Am I going to be facing your cold shoulder all evening? I just need the heads up so I know to take myself off into a dark corner and have a party for one. The conversation might be a little more riveting then. If you really didn’t want me here, you shouldn’t have invited me. I would have been more than happy to slouch around in the hotel. You don’t have to feel obligated to bring me along with you to these things.”

  His eyes narrowed as he watched me. “Why do you do that?”

  “Do what?” I huffed, inspecting my nail polish for any chips.

  He shifted in his seat so he was facing me head on. “Why do you insist on calling me Nathan?”

  I threw my hands in the air in exasperation. “Seriously? All you took from that is me calling you your name?”

  He shrugged. “It’s important. Only strangers and business acquaintances call me by my full name.”

  “I am a business acquaintance.”

  He shook his head and turned to stare out the window again. “No, Liv, you are so much more.”

  “And there you go again with the silent treatment. Honestly, Nathan, I can’t keep up with your mood swings. Maybe you should just drop me off back at the hotel.”

  “This is me, Olivia. This is who I am.”

  “What, moody, cold and boring? Nathan, you don’t need me around to be those things.”

  I’d thought I’d known who Nathan Oakes was, but in reality I knew nothing about him. He had shared so little about himself. And other than the occasional glimpse at a more gentle side, he had always been quiet, reserved and brooding. I’d just been blind to it.

  When the car stopped in front of a fancy looking restaurant, Marc opened the car door and I stepped out into the balmy air, wondering how the evening would progress from there. With Nate in such an introspective mood, I feared the elegant clothing had all been for nothing.

  ***

  My finger running around and around the rim of my glass made a high-pitched, ear-splitting, squeaking sound. It was awesome. I’d looked over the wine menu… several times, listened to the conversation of the American couple sitting behind me—apparently they were visiting their granddaughter who was managing one of the local hotels. It was all very interesting. I’d memorised where each and every lamp was located on the outdoor terrace we’d been seated on. But what I hadn’t done was share more than a handful of sentences of conversation with Nate. I was beyond pissed off.

  Dipping my fingertip in my Martini again, I began another revolution of the glass’ rim. I jumped when, out of nowhere a hand came crashing down on mine, halting my movements.

  “Will you stop doing that?” Nate grumbled.

  My eyes shot to his and I tried yanking my hand from his, but he just tightened his grip.

  “Oh, I’m sorry, was that annoying you? Was it spoiling the silence?” My voice was saccharine sweet as I hissed at him through my teeth and continued trying to yank my hand away.

  Nate sighed and slouched back in his seat. Clearly irritated, his hands ploughed into the longer tresses of his hair while his head fell backward. I’m sure the view of the stars was amazing and all, but what the hell? He needed to talk to me, not Andromeda or Orion. Suddenly, he shifted in his seat, moving forward once again so he could cross his arms on the edge of the table. He levelled his gaze on me, surprising me with the sincerity that glowed from the depths of the steel grey of his eyes.

  “Liv, I’m sorry okay? I know things have been… awkward for you since you arrived and for my part in that I apologise. I should have maybe warned you that I become withdrawn right before a fight. I zone out. Everything has to be about the training, about the preparations. If I’m not in the right mind-set I might as well just throw in the towel now and hand the fight to Sanchez. Whilst we’re here, things will be more hectic. People will constantly want something from me and I can’t escape. I promise, when we’re at my place, things will get better.”

  I nodded briefly. What he said made perfect sense to a certain extent. I wasn’t a famous sports personality trying to juggle training and PR obligations. I didn’t know all of the pressures he put on himself to ensure he was in tip top condition. However, whatever it was he was going through it didn’t excuse his silence, or constantly shifting moods towards me. I deserved more than that.

  “Nathan—”

  “Please, call me Nate, like you were before. My friends call me Nate.” He gave a small, almost timid smile and shrugged.

  Friends, right.

  “Okay, Nate. I understand this is serious business and you have to focus but… oh I don’t know, maybe I’m just being overdramatic and pathetic. Either way, I don’t appreciate being ignored.” I raised the glass to my lips and downed the last of my drink. A waiter walked past and I caught his eye, indicating I needed a refill. I had a feeling I was going to need a lot of liquid courage to get through the evening.

  “No, you’re not pathetic. I’ve been neglecting you.” I watched as he stared down at the pristine white table cloth. He looked weary, not like the pumped up athlete I would expect to see just before a fight. Something was troubling him.

  “Nate, what’s really going on?” I asked softly.

  He lifted his eyes, his head still bowed. “Everything just feels… wrong,” he admitted.

  “Wrong? How?”

  “I don’t know. I can’t pinpoint it. Mal is tightening the screws but there’s something going on with him. He’s acting an even bigger prick than usual. Bernie is getting pissed off with him, adding further tension. It all feels like an impossible situation.” He shook his head with a sharp laugh.

  The waiter chose that moment to return with my drink. He placed it on the table, his eyes meeting mine and lingering there for a while. They were dark, almost black, and spoke of a sensual threat that was both intriguing and scary. Swallowing hard, I reached for the fresh drink; my gaze was frozen to his. As I reached for the glass the waiter moved to take the empty one. For the briefest of moments, our hands touched. “Pardon, Mademoiselle,” he rasped, grinning at me wickedly.

  “That’ll be all, thanks” Nate growled, glaring at the waiter. I blinked in surprise as the waiter bowed and meandered off. I didn’t fail to notice his sly look back at me as he moved to clear a nearby table.

  “Fucking prick,” Nate growled under his breath and suddenly the whole situation seemed absolutely absurd. I started laughing. It started off as a chuckle, and then, when Nate looked at me with a raised brow, I couldn’t hold it back. Before I knew it, I’d grabbed the napkin from my lap and had covered my face with it, trying in vain to control the hysterics and wipe away the tears at the same time. From across the table I heard the
unmistakable sound of Nate’s deep chortle and dropped the napkin to see him shaking his head and laughing with me.

  “That’s a lovely sound,” he said.

  Lowering the napkin to my lap, I saw him smiling fondly at me.

  With the awkwardness between us broken, Nate spent the next several minutes telling me about his gruelling training schedule and strict diet. I nearly spewed Martini all over him when he explained how much he had to eat every day. I knew he trained like an animal, but really? How was it fair he could shovel so much into one amazingly perfect body, while I only had to say ‘pizza’ and I put on four pounds? It was mind blowing what he put himself through on a daily basis all in the name of a sport, a sport he was so passionate about.

  “If things are that strict for you, why are we eating out? Why don’t you have a personal chef or something?” I asked, genuinely curious.

  He threw his head back and laughed. “It’s not that strict, Liv. I just need to watch what I eat closely. I need to make sure I eat the right amount of calories, have the right things, get the right amount of protein and steer clear of fat and sugars, that sort of thing.”

  The waiter appeared from nowhere carrying a tray. Nate and I watched in silence as he placed two plates on the table and then elegantly removed the shiny silver cloches. His arm brushed along mine when he passed by, heading back to the kitchens. I heard a strange sound from the opposite side of the table and looked up to see Nate glaring at the guy’s retreating back. It was then I realised we hadn’t actually placed a food order.

  “What’s this,” I asked, staring down at the plate in front of me.

  Nate brought his attention back to me. “I pre-ordered the food. I knew we wouldn’t have a great deal of time before we’d have to leave for the party,” he explained. “I didn’t have a clue what you liked though, other than pizza, ready meals and Jelly beans that is. So I hope you like it.” Nate nodded for me to go ahead and try what was on my plate before dabbing his fork into the food in front of him.

  “I’ll have you know, I can be sophisticated when I want to be, Mr. Oakes.” I peered down at my plate again, my face screwing up with trepidation. I had no clue what I was looking at.

  “Scallops with parsnip mousse,” Nate said, answering my unspoken question.

  “I knew that.”

  Despite how it looked—all small and posh looking—the food was delicious, and I devoured it in record time. Nate watched me with a smile playing on his lips.

  “Am I amusing you somehow?” I swiped a finger through a splodge of mousse left on my plate and then sucked it into my mouth, licking off the deliciousness. It really was tasty.

  “Amusing, not exactly. Distracting, yes, very much so.”

  “Oh? How so?” I swiped my finger on my plate again and looked up to see Nate’s heated stare glued on my finger as it slipped between my lips again.

  The waiter reappeared, spoiling my enjoyment by removing the plate. I could only hope that the main course was just as delicious.

  “Can I get you anything else, Mademoiselle?” The waiter asked. He was beginning to annoy me. The touches, the looks, they were bordering on creepy.

  “No, I’m fine, thank—”

  “Just bring the main,” Nate barked over me. “And stop flirting with my date.” My eyes widened and darted to his.

  “Date?” I asked in astonishment. That would have indicated a certain level of intimacy that Nate and I certainly didn’t have.

  “I was just trying to make a point,” he said, looking kind of embarrassed as he rested back in his chair. His features sobered. “Liv, the reason I brought you here is because we need to talk. We don’t have long and I need to explain. You need to understand a few things. What happened between us back in the UK, what happened in the hotel the other day, this attraction simmering between us, it can’t go anywhere… And before you shoot me with one of your smart comments, I know you feel it too.” I sucked in my lower lip to stop myself from speaking. I did feel it, boy did I feel it. There was no way I could deny it. He was a hot guy and I was an appreciative female. But I was also a hurt, confused and angry one after the events of the previous few days.

  “With everything going on in my life, I have neither the time, nor the inclination to get involved in a relationship. I can’t offer a woman what she needs. Women want commitment. They want romance and all that fluffy shit. That just isn’t me. I burn off my energy and frustrations in the ring—occasionally in a bed—and I get satisfaction from seeing my businesses grow and thrive.” He closed his eyes for a brief moment. “But I need you to be my calm place. I need you to stay grounded when everything else around me is mayhem.”

  I frowned. “What are you saying, Nate?”

  He ran a hand through his hair to rest on the back of his neck. “What I’m saying is I need you here for more than your drawing skills. I don’t have a fucking clue what it is about you, but I feel calmer when you’re around, more focused. I need that. On the flip side, I’m aware there are feelings brewing beneath the surface.” I gulped down my drink as the weight of his words registered.

  “We have to stop them now, Liv. A lot is riding on this fight for me, and I need to devote everything to my training schedule. I need to be prepared to fight for my life in that cage. Damián Sanchez has a point to prove and he will stop at nothing to win. I have to be one hundred and fifty percent focused to deal with whatever he fires my way. I won’t lose, Olivia. I can’t. Not against him.”

  Holy shit! I had not been expecting that. I pressed the rim of my glass against my lip, replaying his words in my head. He wanted me there for more than just my design skills. What did that mean exactly? ‘I burn off my energy and frustrations in the ring—occasionally in a bed,’ I narrowed my eyes at him over my glass. It occurred to me that maybe he did think I would be an easy, uncomplicated lay for him. That maybe I’d give him my designs with a side helping of stress relief. That thought, antagonising as it was, did strange things to my lady parts.

  “What are you thinking about?” Nate’s sexy rasp pulled me from my wayward thoughts.

  “I’m trying to work out what it is you want from me.”

  “I want you to be you, Olivia. I want you to be the innocent, yet challenging, woman from the gym and the talented architect who blew me away with her design skills. But mostly, I want you to be my JB, my shining light in an otherwise bleak and dull world. I just need you, Liv.”

  Gaping at him, I couldn’t seem to formulate words.

  “But there can’t be anything between us, not romantically. I have too much to lose if I take my eye off the prize even for a split second.”

  “So you just want me to be around?”

  “Yes.”

  “And do what?”

  Nate shrugged. “I’ll be training a lot of the time, so do what you want to do then. I’d like it if you joined me at the gym sometimes too. You’ve done so well these past few weeks, I’d hate for that to slip because you’re out here with me.” I caught his appreciative glance at my newly toned body. I flushed. “You look amazing, Liv. You must not let being here stop you from continuing and progressing further. I want to see you achieve your dreams and goals.”

  “You think I look amazing?” I asked softly, staring down at the meal in front of me.

  He nodded as he chewed through the bite of fillet of beef he’d just taken. “Of course I do. I’m going to have to keep you close tonight. I can’t risk being thrown in a French jail.”

  “Why on earth would you be thrown in jail?”

  He leaned in, pinning me with darkened eyes. “Liv, looking like that you’re going to have men coming on to you all night. I’m protective of those close to me. I can’t guarantee I’d maintain my control.”

  I laughed. An image of Nate grappling with someone on the floor while dressed all dapper in his black suit and white shirt entered my head.

  “I’m serious,” he continued, ignoring my chuckles. “If I see anyone being inappropriate with you
, I’m liable to lose my shit. That can’t happen, not this close to the fight.”

  “Oh please. You’ve already made it clear this place will be packed with classy, beautiful people tonight. Who’s going to be interested in me?”

  “You know, for someone so intelligent and sassy, you’re pretty self-deprecating.” He leaned over the table and tilted my head back. “You were a beautiful woman when I first met you, Olivia. But now I know that beauty isn’t just on the surface. You’re strong, capable, determined… Any guy would be proud to have you on his arm, and tonight I’m the one with that privilege. Tonight you’re mine.”

  A cool breeze blew across the terrace, mercifully cooling my overheated skin. His words, and his touch, hit me deep, reigniting those foreign feelings I’d been experiencing since Nathan Oakes came into my life. I feared it was going to be a long night.

  ~CHAPTER THIRTEEN~

  I recounted our conversation over and over throughout the rest of the meal. Nate had said he was attracted to me, which was a major turn on. He’d also said nothing could happen between us. That had been a major turn off. The confusion swirled around my mind, ripping up a vortex of uncertainly and… hurt. In my mind, I knew he was right, nothing could happen between us. He couldn’t jeopardise his fight like that. That didn’t stop my body from wanting things it would never get. I hadn’t been looking for a relationship, yet the thought of getting into one with Nate filled me with feelings I wasn’t accustomed to. Maybe it was just desire, after all, with a face and body like his, who could not want more from him? But I’d felt desire before, in the distant past of my uni days, when beer goggles led to far too many lust-filled one night stands. Whatever this attraction was that simmered between us, it felt like something more. It was more than desire, more than lust and so much more than friendship.

  Marc pulled up outside a modern, glass fronted building with people milling around in groups and forming a queue that stretched along the street. I tried to take it all in as the door of the Mercedes opened and Marc stretched out a hand to assist me out. The nameless club looked small from the outside, but I could tell the façade was all just an illusion. The black glass windows stretched up for two, maybe three, floors and were topped with an elaborate steel overhang. Above that, laser lights shot moving beams of alternating colours high into the dark night sky.