No Limits

He got the definite vibe that she and the lawyer had a thing. Plus he figured Yvette would have dealt with Mindi, too, might even have to deal with her again. He would never do anything to make this new transition harder on her than it’d already be.

And then there was the fact that he hoped to finally have Yvette... Yeah, to his brain, cozying up with Mindi seemed like a very bad idea. “Sorry, honey, but I’m just not up for it.”

“Fibber,” Mindi whispered. Her eyes grew heavy, her breathing shallower as she stroked him. “You are most definitely up.”

Her twist of his words only marginally amused him. “Let’s just say parts of me have no sense.” Especially with her small hand expertly working him. “But the rest of me is shot, I swear.” The rest of me, he admitted to himself, wants Yvette, and only Yvette.

She pressed her lower body against his thigh. “I’d only need ten minutes.”

“Ah, now what fun would that be?” Gently, because he hated to insult any woman, Cannon tried to ease her back. “I’m sure you deserve more than ten minutes.”

“Later,” she whispered while nuzzling his neck, “when you have more time, you can make it up to me.”

Her sharp little teeth grazed his throat. Damn it, he was started to feel molested. “Listen—”

She opened her mouth on him and Cannon knew he had to get control of things before she added a hickey to his other many bruises. Catching her shoulders, he physically moved her away, saying with firm insistence, “Not today.”

Hurt overshadowed her lust, and she turned away from him. Hands to her face, she gave a nervous laugh. “Wow, this is embarrassing.”

Even annoyed, Cannon sympathized with her. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m flattered.”

She shook her head. “And not at all interested.”

Stepping up behind her, he cupped her shoulders. “You had your hands on me, so you know that’s not true.” She’d felt his semierection. His dick liked her just fine. “But my last fight took it out of me, I just got into town and now I have a load of legal responsibilities to take care of.”

“That’s all it is?” She looked at him with hope. “Seriously?”

Not about to commit himself, he shrugged. “All I know is that it’s not happening now.” Ready to make his getaway, he turned and unlocked the door. He got as far as his truck when she called to him.

Looking back, he saw her poised in the doorway.

“I’ll take a rain check then, give you some time to get settled, but I’m not giving up.”

He couldn’t help but grin at her. Since he doubted they ran in the same circles, he wasn’t worried about seeing her again. With a salute, he got behind the wheel, started the engine and drove away from the building.

No matter how many times it happened, it was still a nice thing to be wanted. Didn’t matter that part of the appeal was his status in the SBC.

One thought led to another, and he had to wonder, would Yvette be as impressed? Even before he’d been picked up by the elite fight organization, she’d looked at him with idol worship, as if he had the answer to every question.

But that was years ago. For all he knew she could be engaged, even married now. He pictured her as he remembered her: young and innocent. Just coming into her own. Shapely and sweet.

Ripe.

Unsettled with conflicting emotions, Cannon drove by Tipton’s house, but when he knocked, no one answered. He had a key, but it didn’t seem right to go in before talking to Yvette. He went by the pawnshop next, but it remained locked up, dark and empty. Like him, Yvette had probably found a motel room.

He’d track her down soon enough, and then they could get reacquainted all over again.

Damn, but he could hardly wait.

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_e193a80b-e2c0-5b93-99eb-0472f99e8f23)

SHE’D BEEN GONE for hours. After making a very brief stop at the pawnshop, disappointed to see the shape it was in, Yvette had shopped for basic groceries she knew she’d need. After that, she’d bought a few new security devices, preparing the best she could for her stay at the house.

Anxiety still churned inside her, but it didn’t matter. She had outgrown that embarrassingly timid girl who’d allowed herself to be a sniveling victim.

Never again.

She concentrated on presenting herself as a proper, poised woman, using that facade to hide the truth. So many dreams had died, but no one else needed to know that.

Preparing to see Cannon, she made herself as polished as possible and then set off.

Because of the mid-August heat wave, she wore a white tank top with her skinny jeans and sandals. She’d pulled her freshly washed hair in a high ponytail that hung down between her shoulder blades.

On the walkway outside Rowdy’s bar, she hesitated. Judging by the noise alone, the place was packed. Being in such a crowded atmosphere would help keep her attraction under wraps. She had to see him, but she wanted to do it without embarrassing herself in any way.

A trio of men stepped out, gave her double takes and leered. She heard “Well, hello,” and “Hot damn,” along with a low whistle from the third guy.

Yvette made a point of not encouraging that sort of thing—really any sort of thing—with men, so she merely nodded and stepped inside. The place looked exactly as she remembered it, with people laughing, a small crowd dancing to the jukebox, every stool lining the bar taken up with a body.

More men checked her out and, wondering if she looked as out of place as she felt, she smoothed her palms over her thighs. Only on very rare occasions had she ever visited bars. Rowdy’s bar was different than most, friendlier, a part of the community she still loved and missed, but it left her self-conscious all the same.

Rowdy himself worked the bar tonight, and when she saw a flash of red hair, Yvette knew he had his wife by his side. She heard him laugh about something his wife said and she smiled with them.

Cannon used to work here, right up until his fighting career took off. She knew that whenever he came to the area, he stopped in to visit, so she hoped to find him here tonight. And if not, then surely someone could tell her where he’d be.

Before people started to wonder if she’d gotten lost, she began searching the room, making her way past the front tables, the dance floor—and finally she found Cannon back by the pool tables in the company of men and women alike.

As if her senses had been starved for him, a dozen emotions made her muscles weak. He looked even better than she remembered. In an otherwise dim room, fluorescent lamps over the pool table added blue highlights to his dark, unruly hair, still a little too long, curling on the ends. As he bent to take a shot, his T-shirt stretched over those impossibly wide and strong shoulders. Muscles flexed, making her stomach flutter in an expected way.

That particular reaction to Cannon was nothing new.

A woman was draped over him, whispering in his ear, and he grinned, his blue eyes bright. The lady kissed his jaw and stepped back.

Taking the shot, Cannon sank three pool balls.

Yvette had never learned to play pool, but given how the others reacted, that must’ve been a good shot.

Laughing, two of Cannon’s male friends handed over bills and the women lined up for hugs. Part of the bet, maybe?

Or just because they all wanted an excuse to touch him? She’d bet on the latter.

Watching it all, Yvette noted the five-o’clock shadow and a few colorful bruises that darkened his handsome face. He’d always had a lean, strong build, but now he was positively shredded, his muscles bulkier and more defined, not an ounce of extra weight on his large frame.

Thinking of the number of fights he’d had in such a short time, she smiled. It was a running joke in the SBC that if a fight became available, if another fighter got sick or injured and had to drop out, Cannon was always there, ready to jump in. Drew Black, the owner of the SBC, loved it—especially since, so far, Cannon always won.

He’d had a few close calls, but every time he managed to pull it off. That last bout... It still amazed her how he’d finished the fight before it finished him.

Shifting inside the doorway and taking up an unoccupied spot against the shadowy wall, she studied him for a while, content to refamiliarize herself with how he moved and how his lips formed that particular cocky smile. Not that she’d ever really forgotten. He drew people like flies to honey, and occupied the entire room with his presence.