Passionate Kisses 2 Boxed Set: Love in Bloom

by Magda Alexander

  “Can you help me up, please?” she asked.

  “It’s the least I can do,” he said, slipping strong arms underneath hers and pulling her to her feet. Once up, he put a hand on her elbow and guided her through the opened doorway.

  Bulldog must’ve been close by. “Hey, she can’t be back here,” he barked from an unseen location.

  “She’s with me,” the guy said, steering her down another hallway.

  Various voices floated from opened doorways, cheers rang from some while tips on doing better in the ring came from others. Was Rally in one of these rooms? Maybe she’d get a chance to snoop if her nose wasn’t too bad. If only her eyes stopped watering. Over-doses of cologne and soap to fight away the stench of male sweat didn’t help either.

  “I didn’t bring my gym bag or I’d give you my towel.” She felt him shrug next to her. “I was in a hurry today. Overslept, you know.”

  “I can understand that.” Grace had the horrible habit of oversleeping and being late to almost every event. “You mentioned someone named Charity, but who is she?”

  “She does our first aid.”

  They walked a few steps down another hallway and made a sharp right.

  “She’s too pretty to be hanging out with someone like you,” said a smooth voice. One hundred percent female. “What did you do to her?”

  The guy guided Grace over to a chair. “I, uh, hit her with the door. Can you check her out and clean her up?”

  “Oh no. I didn’t really mean it. Well, let me take a look at you.” The woman pulled another chair over and took her place face to face with Grace.

  “Sorry again,” said the guy before he left and shut the door behind him.

  Charity folded a thick towel over Grace’s chest, allowing Grace to finally move her hand away from the damage. Thin fingers poked at her face, increasing the pain again. Some dabbing and then a wet compress was added. Another few minutes went by before her vision cleared.

  She sat in an office type of chair. A table holding a variety of different sized organizers filled with medical supplies sat on top. In the right corner of the room was a stainless steel sink and a mirror. The medical bed dominated the room.

  “Yep. It might have a small fracture, but it’s not out of place. Rally always does this in the ring… never outside of it.” Charity laughed.

  Did she just say Rally did this? That was who brought her in here? Maybe she didn’t hear Charity correctly. “You said Rally, right?”

  “Sure did.”

  Holy shit. “Just my luck,” she grumbled. Deflated hope made her body relax against the back of the chair. Her one chance had been here and gone.

  “At least you got to meet him… kind of. Most people don’t.” Charity went over to the sink and rinsed her hand under the water.

  When the water was turned off, Grace asked, “How long have you known him?”

  “Maybe two years? He’s a gentleman but very private.” Charity cocked her head in the direction of the locker room. “At least he doesn’t show-boat all over the media like some of them. That in itself earns my respect.”

  “Where’s he from?”

  Charity put on a fresh pair of rubber gloves. “He trains at One Punch Boxing Gym in Portland, Oregon, so I assume he lives around there. I honestly don’t know anything about him. Most of the guys chat with me while they are in here. Not Rally though. He’s tight lipped. He comes in, gets business taken care of, and leaves.” She took the compress from Grace, tossing it and the rubber gloves in the trash. “It stopped bleeding. You can use the sink to clean up. Don’t worry about the discoloration around your nose. It’ll get worse tomorrow and then it’ll improve.”

  “Thanks.”

  After Charity rewashed her hands, she said, “And take some pain reliever. It’ll work wonders.” She opened the door. “I have to go out to the ring now. If you can’t find your way out of this maze, ask one of the guys.”

  A headache started creeping over the edges of her forehead and intensified by the second. Once alone, she looked in the mirror. Blood had collected in the corners of her nostrils and the round snub nose had plumped up a size. Red and purple splotches had already taken residence around the bridge of her nose. Her warm bed in the hotel seemed like the best choice for her right now. She stepped out into the hall.

  “Excuse me, miss?” said a voice behind her.

  Turning, she found a tall, bald boxer still dressed in his shiny blue shorts approaching her. Wasn’t his name Elliot? “Yes?” she asked.

  “Rally wanted me to give you this.” He held out a piece of paper with Rally’s name and telephone number printed in nice handwriting.

  Her heart beat increased as she stared down at the paper. “Thanks,” she said. Maybe there was some hope left after all. But first, her hotel room for some ice, pain reliever, and a little rest. Good thing she’d opted out on a rental car and depended on a taxi. The edges of her vision remained blurry and the world swirled around as she tried opening her eyes wider than a squint.

  On her way out of the casino, she managed to bump into several strangers, mumbled apologies as she hurried past each of them, and sunk into the backseat of a cab. The name of her hotel stumbled from her lips as the driver zipped the cab away from the curb and floored the gas pedal. Another extra sharp turn banged her head against the window. She cursed under her breath.

  “Hey, buddy. Slow down,” she said, wincing at the pain radiating through her face.

  He didn’t respond and didn’t slow down, either. Another few quick turns-almost running over a pedestrian stepping into the crosswalk-and the tires squealed as the car zoomed into the parking lot of her hotel. She tossed the money equaling the amount displayed on the meter and hurried out of the backseat.

  Her hotel might be lacking in the swank department but it did have friendly staff and a closet sized convenient store that sold small amounts personal hygiene items, cigarettes, and a large rack of booze and snacks. To the right was a fridge and freezer combo that held personal pizzas, ice cream, and TV dinners on one side with soda, juice, packaged cheese sticks. She opened the fridge section and took out a decent looking salad. But the ice cream-Ben and Jerry’s to be exact-looked so much better. A girl needed comfort food on a day like this. Salad would still be there tomorrow.

  Snatching the ice cream from the freezer and three small packets of pain reliever from the shelf, she set the items on the counter and pulled out her wallet. The clerk stepped up to the counter and offered a smile.

  “Not that I don’t want your business, but these are a lot cheaper at the convenience store on the corner. It only takes a few minutes by foot and saves you a few bucks.” He rang up each item and gave her a total of fifteen dollars.

  “I appreciate that. I really do.” She pointed to her nose. “I’ve had a bad day and the cab drivers her are suicidal maniacs. I just got out of one and am looking forward to a safe night behind closed doors.”

  He chuckled. “That they are. Call the front desk if you need anything.” He bagged her items and handed her change back.

  With tonight’s treasures, she hurried down the long, carpeted hallway to the elevators. The sooner she could rest her face, the better. Slipping her keycard into the slot and waiting for the three lights above the handle to turn green, she pushed the door open with a sigh. Home-well, her home for the past two nights. Even with the pain, a bit of relief filled her. Here was where she could forget about being clean, polite, or always smiling. She could let loose now if she wanted.

  She glanced at the suitcase in the small space intended for a closet. Clothes spilled over the unzipped edges and bunched on the floor. She’d planned on packing up tonight since her flight was tomorrow afternoon but dang. All she cared about was slipping into some comfy pajamas. She dug through the wrinkled clothes and pulled out a pale pink night shirt. When Rally had smacked her in the nose, she’d tried to contain the blood. Now slipping her jacket off and checking the front, big splotches of blood on the fabr
ic mocked her earlier efforts. That could’ve have happened. She’d splurged on the jacket and ate the store brand Macaroni and Cheese for a week to recover the cost. The crimson spots on her blouse indicated further failure at saving her outfit. Ruined! She’d be lucky to get all the blood out. Maybe the skirt would be fine. She unzipped the back and shimmied the fabric down her thighs until it dropped to the floor. She snatched it up, only to find blood had soaked through to the inside lining. She grabbed the stained clothes from the spot on the bed where she’d tossed each item after its inspection and dumped them on the floor.

  The clean, cotton nightshirt felt as good as a warm hug as it slid over her body. After taking some pain relievers, she grabbed her pint of ice cream and a plastic spoon, ready to indulge in the slightly melted, heavenly food while watching the free movie channel. With each spoonful of deliciousness she tried focusing on the action movie flickering across the screen but her mind kept switching back to the yumminess that was in the form of a man. Rally Brewer to be precise. Even though she hadn’t had the opportunity to get a good look at him when he smacked her with the door, she did when he left the arena. His broad, sweating shoulders caused her stomach to flip-flop. The smile out to a fan made her wish that she was the recipient of his attention.

  Chapter Two

  The next morning, Grace stood in front of the mirror and wanted to cry. Her nose had grown at least three sizes, and if this continued, the circus would surely be over to recruit her. And it hurt like hell. Not to mention that she couldn’t breathe out of either nostril. Both problems brought her a poor night’s sleep and she had a big day ahead of her. At least her hair looked good with the soft curls swept into a clip. Pretty and professional… until anyone looked at her face.

  She grabbed her cell and punched the number listed on the business card. Sucking in her breath, she waited for the ringing to be replaced a deep, masculine voice. One belonging to…

  “Brewer.” Rally Brewer. She started to swoon but caught herself when he barked an impatient, “Hello?”

  Heat burned her cheeks as she stammered out a quick, “Mr. Brewer, this is Grace-the woman with a swollen nose.”

  “Oh,” came the reply. After a heartbeat, he continued with, “I’m sorry about yesterday, Grace. I’m sure your clothes are ruined and I insist on paying you for them. Meet me at the motel restaurant for an early lunch.”

  A smile spread over her lips as her pulse pounded. Lunch with Rally Brewer? Hell yes! Maybe her career wouldn’t be smashed after all. She tried sounding as nonchalant as she could manage when she said, “Sure. When is good for you?” Hopefully soon in order for her to make her flight early afternoon.

  “Can you meet me now? I have a plane to catch soon.”

  “Yes, I can meet you.”

  She scribbled the address to his hotel and called a cab. Fifteen minutes later, she flinched at the glances from the taxi driver through the rearview mirror and wished she could strap a giant bandage over her bruised nose. The driver looked at her again and shook his head. Yep, he wanted to know what happened to her. Why didn’t he just come out and ask? She might as well get use to the questions now that she’d left her hotel room.

  “I look like shit, huh?” she asked, a calm smile splayed across her lips. “It’s okay. You can say so.”

  The driver nodded. “Boyfriend do that to you? I hope the bastard gets what he deserves.”

  She laughed. “Actually, no. Someone smacked a door into my face. It was mostly my fault, but he is making it up to me by taking me to lunch right now.”

  A thin slice of hair fell down against the man’s wrinkled forehead. “A lunch date, huh?”

  “Oh, nothing like that. He wants to pay for my outfit that got ruined.” She motioned to the swollen mound and flinched as a sharp pain raced through her face. “And he might want to apologize, I suppose.”

  “Keep your eyes open, dear,” the driver said. “Accidents happen, but they also bring people together. It’s going to happen with you, too.” He tapped the tip of his index finger against his temple. “I know.”

  “It’s not like that at all,” she said. She shook her head and stared out at the large hotel they turned into. Palm trees lined the sidewalks and bright flowers poked out from deep green bushes. Glitter and glitz. She would miss paradise for sure.

  The driver hurried out and around the back of the car to her door. After she stepped out into the warm sunshine, he patted her shoulder.

  “Eyes open. You remember that, okay?” He took the money, including an extra-large tip for not driving crazy that she held out to him, and then said, “Enjoy your lunch.”

  “I will.” Spinning on her heel, she rushed past the valet, dressed in matching suits while leaning against a brass accented desk. Once inside, she followed the signs to the restaurant at the back of the hotel. A giant waterfall splashed down large boulders with purple and fuchsia flowers that matched the foliage she’d spotted outside. A woman wearing a turquoise and black suit stepped forward.

  “Do you have a reservation?”

  Did she? Well, did Rally? He hadn’t mentioned it. “I’m meeting my someone here.” She rattled off Rally’s name and hoped for the best. The hostess scanned a perfectly manicured nail down the list of names on her spiral bound book and tapped her finger on a printed name before offering a beaming smile. “Right this way.”

  Grace’s heart raced as she stepped around the booth and followed the hostess into the dining room where large bouquets of flowers stood in nearly every corner and glass windows lined two of the walls. Was this real? Grace fought the temptation to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Broken nose or not, she was about to eat lunch in a beautiful restaurant with the famous Rally Brewer.

  He stood when she approached the table. The sight of him took her breath away. Dressed in a button up shirt and designer jeans, he wore the suave air of a distinguished gentleman without being a snob. He offered a friendly smile and then settled his gaze on her nose.

  “I’m sorry, Grace.” He took her hand in his and gave her a gentle squeeze. “I must be the biggest douche bag.” When she took a step toward her chair, he rushed over to her side of the table. “Here, let me help you.” He pulled her chair out for her to sit and then scooted her closer to the table.

  How could he think of himself like that when he brought her here? “No way. Thanks for inviting me to lunch. I’ve never been here before. It’s beautiful.”

  “Just like you.” He paused. “Again, I’m sorry. I have to pay for your outfit. You were bleeding pretty badly.”

  “Oh, I’ll be fine.” No lie about her outfit though.

  “I can either pay for dry cleaning or replace the entire outfit. Your choice.” He patted the back pocket of his jeans. “I brought the checkbook.” After pulling the checkbook from his pocket, he took his seat and started filling out the check.

  He slipped the check over the cream colored table cloth and picked up a matching menu from its place on the table cloth.

  She picked the check up and glanced at the square where the total sum was, expecting enough for a dry cleaner or to replace her knock-off designer suit. But her eyes widened with surprise as she stared at the amount. She looked up and connected gazes with him. “Why so much? My outfit was nowhere near that amount.”

  He offered a shrug and sexy as hell smile. “So upgrade. I ruined your clothes… and your nose. I can’t short change you.

  She slipped the check in her wallet and picked up the menu. She had to head to the airport soon. Should she order a decent meal and be full for a while? She checked him out over the top of her menu. Or be ladylike and order something small? If their meal took long enough, maybe she could warm him over and get some information for her story. When the server came over, ready to take their order, Grace still hadn’t decided on an entrée.

  Rally handed his menu to the server. “Steak well-done, plain baked potato and an half order of chicken pasta.”

  She raised her eyebr
ows at his lunch choice.

  “Hey,” he said, “I need a lot of protein and don’t eat carbs before a fight. I have training later, plus my trip home. I need the food.” He wagged a finger at her as he chuckled. “Don’t judge.”

  “No judging? Okay,” she said, punctuating her sentence with a giggle. “Steak, medium rare. Baked potato with butter and sour cream. Plus I’d like a side salad with dressing. See? I know how to eat, too, and like you, I have a long day ahead of me.”

  “Would you like to start your meal with some bread or soup?” asked the server.

  “Cocktail shrimp,” Rally ordered. Once the server disappeared with their order, he asked, “Flying home?”

  “I am.”

  “So where are you from?”

  “The non-glamorous part of southern California.”

  His laugh was rich and sounded heavenly to her. She couldn’t deny that she was attracted to Rally. Sure, she’d met a few celebrities in her line of work and never had been drawn to one as she was to him.

  “How did you find yourself in Las Vegas?”

  The waitress brought their drinks and cocktail shrimp hanging on the edge of a fancy crystal bowl. Plucking one off the rim and dipping it in the red sauce gave her the opportunity to stall with her answer. Should she just come right out with the truth? She wiped a drip of sauce from her lip and pain ricocheted through her nose. Squeezing her eyes shut, she whispered, “Ouch.”

  “I’m so sorry for causing that for you.”

  “It’ll be okay. Really.” She opened her eyes again. “So you asked what brought me to Las Vegas. The simple answer is you.”

  “Me?” A sly smile played on his lips. “Why me?”

  “Because I’m on assignment. I need an interview for an article, but I wasn’t successful last night.” She took a sip of her water, relishing the cool water sliding against the walls of her dry mouth and down her throat.