In Her Corner

“Off the record, people are idiots.” When Quinn gave him her “be serious” look, he went with the company line. “Injuries happen, and the health and welfare of my fighters is important. A torn ACL is nothing to take lightly.”

“But the last three cancellations—DePolo’s doping scandal, Vasquez’s battery and assault charge against McCaffrey, Brown’s controversial remarks about—”

“I read the news, Quinn.”

She sucked in a lip and plowed on. “These infringements are indicative of something more pervasive and widespread in the UFF. You’ve got bigger prizes, more at stake, and more fighters and gyms competing with each other every day. Is the increasing pressure to perform driving fighters to justify unsportsmanlike behavior?”

Hadrian stared at her, trying to sort out her eye-crossing question. “That’s a lot of ten-dollar words to be throwing around on a Saturday, Quinn. Sounds like you’ve been holding on to that question for a while. When were you planning to spring it on me?”

“Sunday night, probably.” She shrugged. “It’s just business, babe.”

He stuffed down his irritation and the resentment that her answer had tweaked. “I have a deep respect for these fighters,” he said, clearing his throat, “and I put all my confidence in them to behave appropriately. Whatever beef they have with each other, whatever they’re doing to their bodies—legal or otherwise—that’s their deal. I can’t control them every second of every day. They know the rules. They should know how to conduct themselves.”

“But you have to admit, you’ve made the stakes such that the UFF is the only game in town.”

“That’s not true. There are dozens of other leagues—”

“That can barely compete, and you know it. That’s why you’ve been buying them up, isn’t it?”

He threw his hands in the air. “I thought this weekend was supposed to be about having fun.”

She shut off her recorder. “I’m not attacking you, Hadrian. I’m asking a valid question.”

“Yeah, but why the third degree? What story are you working on, exactly?”

“It’s a feature,” she said vaguely. “I’m freelancing it out.”

“About what?”

“I have an idea, but it’s all about research right now. I don’t have a bigger picture yet. Just some ideas. And I won’t say any more until I know exactly what I’m going to write about.”

He set his jaw, eyes slipping back down to her chest. If he didn’t know better, he could have sworn she’d planned the whole topless inquisition. Not that he really minded.

“Will you stay for dinner?” he asked, trying hard to keep hope out of his tone.

“Better not. I have to get to the office, make some calls and see who has the pulse on McAvoy.” She pulled her T-shirt on and grabbed her running shoes. “Besides, you’re going to be preoccupied, too, finding a replacement. If I finish early, maybe I’ll come back, okay?” She gave him a peck on the cheek and left without saying goodbye.

Hadrian sighed. Well, there went his weekend.

CHAPTER FIVE

KYLE WATCHED THROUGH his office windows as Bella shadowboxed, pummeling her invisible opponent with the grace and power of a pro. She had perfect form—Wayne had praised her discipline and skill—and what she lacked in strength she made up for with finesse.

Something she obviously lacked when it came to working with him.

He knew he’d overreacted the other day when she’d tackled him. He’d lain in bed awake—which was no new thing—mad at himself and at her. Of course, it was always dangerous pulling stupid stunts like that. She should’ve known better. But he wasn’t about to admit that the real reason he was so pissed off ran much deeper. No, she’d been in the wrong.

Sometime later, Orville joined her, along with Tito, and they began a few grappling and takedown exercises. He noticed she had no difficulty or awkwardness working with either of the men. Apparently, things only got weird when she worked with him.

And whose fault is that? His self-recriminating thoughts always took his father’s berating tone. Stop trying to put the blame on everyone else. This is all in your stupid head.

He put down his file and rubbed his tired eyes. He had to try harder. He’d been unfair to her, and he was treating her like...well, not kindly, and it was entirely his problem.

The phone rang. Liz rarely transferred calls that weren’t important, so it was with some trepidation that he picked up. “Hello?”

“Hey, killer.” The soft, husky voice that beckoned from the other end of the line had him sitting up. He’d know that siren’s call anywhere. “How’s it hanging?”

“Bree Hannigan.” A broad smile spread across his lips. “I thought you were in Australia.”

“I was. I’m in California right now, doing some photo shoots for Chanel.”

“Fancy. How are you?”

“Lonely,” she whimpered. “Henri and I broke up a few months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.” He wasn’t. Not really. Bree had followed the photographer to the other side of the world almost two years ago. She’d been crazy about the guy.

They caught up with each other’s lives. Bree told him about the dozens of exotic places she’d visited, complaining about how she’d had to live out of a suitcase and eat out all the time.

“Woe is me,” Kyle teased. “Touring the world first-class as a fashion model? What a trial.”

“You laugh, but you have no idea. All I really want is to relax and unwind in a big, comfy bed with a big, comfy man. Speaking of, I’m going to be in New Orleans in February. I was hoping we could...get comfy together.”

Heat rolled lazily south through his chest and lower. The last time they’d been together, they’d spent most of that time in her hotel room. It had been an unforgettable weekend. “I’d like that....”

A sliver of doubt pricked his libido, and he hedged. His performance of late had been subpar. He didn’t want to risk a misfire. “Let me know what your schedule’s going to be like. Things have been busy here.”

“Too busy for me?” He could hear her pout. “Kyle, have you been working too hard? You know stress only makes you tighten up.”

How she managed to make everything she said sound like sex, Kyle didn’t know. His gaze snagged on Bella as she tackled Orville, throwing her legs around his waist and dragging him to the ground. “I’ll make room in my schedule.”

“Good. I’ll see you soon.”

They hung up. Kyle was still smiling, but inside, threads of anticipation and dread tangled into a tight, messy knot.

* * *

BELLA SANK HER fists into the heavy bag, driving frustration into the leather and sand with each blow.

Wayne made her take a break. “You’re going at it a little hard today. Everything okay?”

“I want to get a good workout.” She took long, deep, calming breaths as she shook out her limbs. She was still frustrated by what had happened with Kyle. He’d been avoiding her since that incident, and part of her couldn’t blame him. She’d behaved irresponsibly—Fulvio would’ve turned her over and spanked her if she’d tackled an unprepared teacher the way she’d attacked Kyle. She couldn’t even say why she’d done it—it was that reckless impulse to mess with him she couldn’t control.

Still, she didn’t deserve the silent treatment.

Obviously Kyle had issues, and that thing between him and Karla was probably at the root of it. But it wasn’t as if she was going to put him into a compromising position and get him in trouble. Anyhow, how was she supposed to grapple with other men under his rules? She couldn’t jeopardize her training because Kyle was afraid of cooties.

At least the other guys had been generous with their time. Tito and Orville both took turns working with her, and Wayne had given her some terrific tips on her footwork. If it wasn’t for them, she might have packed up and left a week ago.