by Tia Lewis
I couldn’t speak, the spine-tingling sensation of what was going on here robbing me of my voice. I wanted him, too.
He pulled back and set me away from him, pushing away from the car and taking a few steps from me. I gulped air as he shoved a hand through his hair roughly. “You need to leave, now.”
What? Leave this? Didn’t he want to continue this somewhere nice and cozy? “I.”
He shot me an angry look that stalled the words in my throat. Oh, great. I had pissed him off now. “This can’t happen between us.”
“Why not?” I blurted out. We were consenting adults. I was ready; he was ready. It sounded like a good idea to me.
Paul blew out a breath. “Because I said so. Go home, Sarah.”
I burst into laughter. “Because you said so? Wow, if that’s the reason, I better go home then.” I started toward my car before I turned back, giving him a look. “But this isn’t going to stop here. You know that right?”
He growled again, and I walked to my car, a smirk on my face. I had gotten the last word in, staked a claim I didn’t know existed until tonight. This was far from over between us.
The Next Evening…
“I love this dress on you, Sarah. Very out of the box for you.”
I bit my lip as I looked in the mirror, turning side to side expecting to see a fat roll sticking out the side. But it wasn’t, and I was shocked to see how good I actually looked in this dress. It actually wasn’t a dress, but a very cute high waisted skirt that covered my rounded stomach and a cropped top that showed just the barest hint of skin between the two pieces, its lacy cap sleeves giving me the modesty I thought I needed. The color was an emerald green, and with a pair of glittering heels and my hair down in soft curls, I felt beautiful.
Turning toward my sister, I placed my hands on my hips. “Are you sure? I don’t look ridiculous, do I?”
Emma, my sister, was seated on my bed, her long legs swinging lazily as she gave the outfit another critical eye. Her own short cocktail dress hung on the back of the door, though she was still dressed in the button down shirt we had worn to the salon to get our hair and makeup done. “I think it looks awesome on you.”
I heaved a deep breath and walked over to my vanity, selecting a pair of tiny diamond studs and the diamond and emerald bracelet I wanted to wear with the outfit tonight, my hands shaking slightly. I enjoyed dressing out for these events, but this outfit had been something I hadn’t thought about until last night when Paul had kissed me like he was starving. Not to mention I had thrown down the gauntlet that whatever had happened between us wasn’t over with. It was far from being over.
Suddenly, my standard black evening gown wasn’t enough. I wanted to see his eyes light up in surprise, the heat burst forth and keep him guessing on when he was going to be able to put his hands on me. I wanted him to see me as something other than the aggravating woman who had roped him into this charity business. It was funny how much my thoughts had changed about him over the span of twenty-four hours, and I just hoped that he hadn’t steeled himself against me again.
“This has to do with that fighter doesn’t it?”
I turned to see Emma looking at me, a knowing smile on her face. “What?”
She pushed off the bed, sliding the shirt over her head before reaching for her dress. “You know that fighter you roped into the match. I saw his head shots. He’s hot, Sarah.”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with him,” I protested weakly as she pulled up her dress, pushing her long hair aside to fumble with the zipper.
“Sure it doesn’t. I’ve never seen you wear something like that before, Sarah.”
“I’m trying something new then,” I said, spinning my bracelet around on my wrist.
She turned and stepped into her shoes, her slim figure looking nothing like mine. I felt like a sausage smashed in its casing compared to her. “You know father would never accept him if you were thinking about dating him.”
I laughed. What I wanted to do had nothing to do with dating. My father and the rest of my family would be shocked to know what was running through my mind. “Since when has he had anything to do with my love life?”
She arched a perfectly manicured brow. “Really, Sarah? Did you really just ask that question?”
“Okay,” I said, glancing at my alarm clock to check in on the time. “While I am enjoying this conversation, I have to go.” I promised to meet Paul outside the event according to his itinerary. I just hoped he showed up.
Giving her a little wave, I walked down the stairs and out the front door, where a private car was waiting for me. Emma’s was parked behind mine for whenever she decided to join the party. It took some maneuvering to climb into the car but I got in without hearing a tear of any sort, and we were off, heading toward downtown. My knee jumped nervously as I thought about seeing Paul tonight, dressed in a tux of all things. He was going to be pretty impressive; there was no doubt about that.
But this was more than just Paul tonight. This was the calm before the storm, the true test of whether or not I could make this event successful. The fight was to be in two weeks, and I had so far secured the venue, lined up the tickets and got a worthy opponent for Paul to show off his talents in the cage. Tonight, there would be some great silent auctions, all money raised to go toward the two charities I would be supporting with this whole excitement. I just hoped that everything went without a hitch.
The car pulled up to the venue, a reformed church that was now a lovely rental space for weddings and the like. I loved the place and used it often when I had something I really wanted to show off. The stain glass windows were just fabulous. The driver helped me out, and I thanked him before walking up to the stairs, looking down at my cell in my hand. Right on time yet my date was late. I hoped this wasn’t a precursor to the rest of the night. People were expecting to meet Paul Watts, and I wanted to deliver.
I waited a few minutes as the cars lined up outside the church, well-dressed men and women climbing out, some greeting me as they made their way inside, eager to start their night. Finally, I spied a man walking down the street alone, my heart starting a slow thud in my chest as he got closer. It had to be Paul. Finally, he got close enough for me to confirm and he was everything I had expected. Oh my god. He was turning every woman’s head within one hundred yards, the tux fitting his body like a second glove. I was sunk. This fighter was going to be my ruin, one way or another.
“Hi Paul,” I said brightly as he finally reached me, his eyes doing a slow scan of my attire. “Are you ready to go in?”
He took a step forward, and I swallowed hard, keeping my smile on my face when in reality I wanted to kiss him on those oh so perfect lips of his. He smelled heavenly, and I felt myself start to lean forward just to take in a few sniffs. My hormones were in overdrive, my pulse pounding against my skin. He was mine tonight. The thought affected me in more ways than one. The question was, what was I going to do with him?
13
Paul
She was fucking gorgeous. Just when I thought Sarah couldn’t surprise me anymore, she showed up looking like she stepped out of some display window, her eyes sparkling with excitement as she waited for me to say something. I couldn’t. I was damn near tongue-tied at the sight of her curvy body encased in the two piece outfit that showed the barest hint of skin around the midsection. Her hair was done, and all I wanted to do was bury my hands in it to feel its softness. That wasn’t the only thing I wanted to bury in, and I was having a damn near hard time disguising that fact.
I cleared my throat and took a step backward, derailing my initial thought of wrapping my arm around her waist and plundering her mouth with mine. “Yeah, I’m ready to go in.”
She nodded, and I stretched out my arm to escort her in properly. I might be from the streets, but I had good manners. She looped her arm around mine, and we started up the stairs, where people were streaming into the large wooden doors before us. “You look very nice tonight,” she sa
id softly as we joined the crowd that was attempting to get in. “The tux suits you.”
I leaned over, unable to help myself. “And you look fucking gorgeous. I can’t keep my eyes off you.” There. I had said it, laid it on the table. Her eyes flew to mine, and I could see the surprise in their depths, the pink spreading across her face. I wasn’t a dumbass; I could tell she was a beautiful woman, even if she didn’t flaunt it like the rest.
“T-thank you, Paul,” she stammered as she fumbled with her purse, extracting two invitations to hand to the guy at the door.
“You’re welcome.”
She gave me a soft smile and turned to greet the men at the door, telling them how much she appreciated their help tonight. They beamed under her praise, and I found myself wanting to hear that same praise. I was going to put on a good fucking show for her with the match. How she had gotten under my skin this fast was a mystery, but I wasn’t quite ready to shrug it off just yet. With everything that was going on with Matt and ma, I needed this outlet, even if it was just for a few more days.
We walked inside, and I was surprised to see how big the church was, the pews all gone and in their place were big circular tables, the elegant atmosphere already making me sweat under my collar. There was a place for dancing, a band up on a riser in the corner and people dripping with money milling around everywhere. Damn if I could only be one of those people, never worrying about where their next check is going to come from or how much something cost. It had to be the life.
“Oh, there’s the mayor,” Sarah said, giving my arm a squeeze. I turned to see a man striding toward us, a wide smile on his face. “Sarah! This is just lovely as always,” he said as she released my arm and he enveloped her in a hug. “I was hoping to get a word with your father tonight, but I hear he’s not available.”
“He had to go to California unexpectedly,” she answered with a gracious smile. “I’ll tell him that you asked about him.”
The mayor waved his hand. “I’ll give him a call later. Who’s this?”
Sarah looked at me, and my damn breath ceased to exist as I saw the pride in her eyes. Well, hell. That was what it felt like to be basking in her praise. She was looking at me like I was her savior. “This is Paul Watts. He will be fighting in my charity match.”
The mayor stuck out his hand, and I shook it firmly, earning a chuckle from the older gentleman. “That’s quite a grip you got there, son.”
“I’ve worked hard at it,” I answered smoothly. He laughed and clapped me on the back. “I’m sure you have. Sarah, once this is all over with, maybe you should hire him as a bodyguard. Or better yet, maybe I should.”
I failed to find the humor in that phrase, Sarah only giving a small smile as the mayor was pulled away by another party-goer. So he saw me as hired help. Great, just fucking great. This was going to be a great night.
“Sarah, wow you look great.”
I turned this time to see another man standing before us, tall and skinny, with his eyes on her body. A bolt of jealousy rolled through me as I watched him give her a once over, appreciation reflecting in his gaze. But there was something else. He looked vaguely familiar, the structure of his face something I had seen before. I frowned as I watched him ogle Sarah, trying to place him. Why was I remembering a rich fucker like him?
“Jack, hi,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’m glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” he replied. “I think you are going to have a successful night.”
“Just make sure you bid on those silent items,” she said before looking over at me. “Jack Mission, this is Paul Watts. He’s my—”
“Date,” I interjected, wrapping my arm around her waist. Fuck it. I would figure it out later.
“Date?” he echoed, his eyes narrowing as he looked at me. “Paul Watts. Huh, have we met before?”
“No,” I said darkly. “Excuse us; we were about to dance.” Without waiting for his response, I moved us toward the dance floor, swinging her into my arms before I had a chance to think about what I was doing. Surprise was written all over her face as I took her hand and held it in mine, moving slowly to the music. When it came to dancing, I had two left feet, but if it meant getting her away from that guy, then I was willing to suffer through it. My fingers connected with the bared patch of skin at her waist and my pulse ratcheted up a notch. Her skin was soft under my fingers, and I wanted to touch her all over.
“W-what are you doing?” she breathed as we moved to the music.
“I’m dancing with you.”
“No, I mean, what was all that about?”
I couldn’t very well tell her the truth, that I was a jealous fucker who had suddenly zeroed in on the fact that we could have something here. I wanted her, and I didn’t want to share. “You don’t want to dance with me?”
Her cheeks bloomed with color, and her expression softened. “I, well, I’m just surprised you wanted to dance with me.”
I leaned forward, giving her a slow grin that had been known to weaken knees back in the day. “Darling, there’s nothing I want more at this moment.” Nothing that we could do in the open anyway.
Something tapped me on the shoulder, and I turned to see a tall man standing next to me, a frown on his face. Great. Another admirer that I was going to have to scare off. What was it going to take for me to get a few moments alone with Sarah around here? “What the hell do you want?”
“I want you to take your hands off my sister.”
“Jarred,” I heard Sarah say as I glared at him. “What are you doing?”
“Butting in,” Jarred replied, glaring at me in return. “Do you mind?”
“I do,” I said, gritting my teeth. Her brother. The relief was palpable that Sarah didn’t have a whole host of rescuers wanting to take her from me. “Unless my partner wants different.”
Sarah sighed and pushed out of my embrace. “Paul this is my brother, Jarred.”
Jarred straightened his shoulders, his expression darkening. “I’m your opponent.”
I laughed aloud, startling the group of dancers around us. “What?” I hadn’t asked about my opponent, figuring they were going to find some two-bit MMA fighter that hadn’t risen to the ranks I was at. It was going to be an easy fight. But fight Sarah’s brother? A rich bastard that had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth? Hell no.
I turned to Sarah. “Tell me he’s fucking wrong.”
She had the grace to look embarrassed. “It was in the contract.”
The damn contract. I hadn’t read it. “I’m not fighting him.”
“Hell yes, you are,” Jarred answered for his sister, stepping forward. I clenched my hands into fists, my body prepping for a fight already. This guy didn’t know who he was messing with. “You signed a contract. It’s already set.”
“I thought I was fighting a professional,” I growled, my eyes hardening.
“You are,” Jarred seethed.
Sarah stepped between us then, placing a hand on both of our chests. “How about tone down the testosterone. This is not the place.”
Jarred looked at me, his eyes glittering with anger. “I’ll be seeing you soon, Watts.”
“I’ll be waiting,” I answered, grabbing Sarah’s arm and dragging her away from her brother before I knocked his ass out. Finding a door, I pushed it open and stepped into what looked like a janitor’s closet. Sarah stumbled in behind me, and I shut the door, bracing my hands on either side of her lovely head and stared into her eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
She swallowed hard, fear in her eyes. “I-I don’t know what you mean.”
“The fuck you don’t,” I said angrily. “I’m not fighting your brother.”
“You don’t have much of a choice,” she said, clearing her throat. “You signed the contract. I’ve already given you half the money. Jarred’s been training.”
“I’m going to fucking kill him,” I nearly shouted, slamming my palm against the
door. She jumped, but I didn’t care. This was the stupidest thing I had ever heard. “I’m a real fighter, a lethal person. I’m not some pansy gym rat. You understand?” What was with these people?
14
Sarah
I swallowed my fear, knowing that in my heart Paul would never physically hurt me. But he looked extremely pissed, and I was the cause of that. If he had only read the contract, this would not be a surprise to him. “It was my brother’s idea,” I said softly. “He’s fully prepared to deal with whatever you throw at him.”
Paul leaned in close until I could see the gold flecks in his eyes. “I’m not going to take it easy on him. I’m not going to lay down and let him run all over me. I’m a fighter, Sarah, not at your or anyone else’s beck and call.”
He pushed away and opened the door, nearly causing me to fall as he walked back into the ballroom, anger radiating from every pore. I sighed and stepped out as well, straightening my skirt. Maybe I should have told him before now. All he had to do was fight, do what he did best and if my brother got his ass kicked, then it was his own fault. Why was Paul so mad, though? Did he really care who was in the cage with him? I would have thought not. He was getting paid to do this after all.
I looked at the crowded ballroom, glad that at least the gala was a hit tonight. It was more than enough to have a cage fighter pissed off at me. I didn’t need any more surprises.
“Just lovely my dear. You did a nice job tonight. We had a wonderful evening.”
I smiled at the older woman, a well-known Chicago socialite who loved to spend her money, glad that I had gotten her stamp of approval. One bad word from her mouth and I would be sunk, no matter who my family was. “Thank you, Mrs. Devore. I am so glad you were able to come.”