Chapter 11

It was early the next morning when Francesca arrived in Miami. She drove directly to Tony’s house and called Cain as soon as she arrived, knowing he was staying in Tony’s guest house. Cain opened the door, kissed Francesca’s cheek, and let her inside.

“Where is he?” she asked.

Cain grabbed Francesca’s portable kennel from her and looked inside as he spoke. “He’s not up yet. We were supposed to be at the gym an hour ago.” His brow furrowed, and he looked back at his boss.

She took the kennel from his hands and set it down. “I got a cat.” Cain still didn’t speak. “His name’s Winston.” Still nothing from Cain, so she continued to talk. “He’s very sweet. You want to pet him?” She was about to open the latch, but Cain held her wrist.

“No,” was all he said.

“Ooo-kayyyy,” she drawled. “Anyway, so what’s going on, exactly?” she asked, suddenly hoping the man wasn’t upstairs with a woman. She wasn’t sure she could handle him stumbling downstairs with some woman he’d spent the night with.

“Some partying. Goes out to clubs and comes back late or drunk and then doesn’t want to train. He’s put on some weight. He’s not sticking to his diet. Won’t make weight if he keeps on.”

“Does he know I was coming?”

“I didn’t tell him.”

She stood by the staircase and yelled up, “Tony, come down here.”

Moments later, looking half asleep, his hair sticking up all over the place, wearing only gym shorts and scratching his chest absentmindedly, he looked down from the landing. “What the hell?” he said, obviously completely surprised. “What are you doing here?”

“Get dressed and come down.”

He groaned and went back to his room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Cain shrugged and went to the kitchen, Francesca following. He poured himself a cup of coffee, put cereal into a bowl, and sat down. Ten minutes later, Tony walked down the steps in his workout clothes, his hair slicked back, still wet from his shower, wearing a neatly trimmed full beard that framed his face nicely. “Why are you here?” he asked, his tone neutral. Probably he was trying to determine whether she was back for business or pleasure—if pleasure was still even an option.

“Cain’s been waiting.” She handed him some coffee “Are you always late to train?”

He made a noise that sounded like “hmph” and said, “Oh, so you’re here to babysit.” He turned his attention to Cain. “You call her?”

“Ass outta your head, bro,” was all Cain said before returning to his cereal.

“Any other reason you’re here?” Tony asked.

She swallowed hard. Nothing had really changed, and telling him that she’d missed him, which was true, would only confuse things. She couldn’t love him, she didn’t know how to, and he was a jealous, temperamental womanizer. It would never work. When she didn’t answer, he said, “I see. Well, this little intervention has been fun. I’m outta here.”

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“None of your business,” he said, turning and walking out of the house.

“Shit,” she said. “That didn’t go well.”

Cain shoved another spoonful of cereal into his mouth and mumbled, “Nope.”

“Mami!” Tony walked into his mother’s house twenty minutes after storming out of his own place. “Mami! Where are you?” he yelled.

“In da keetchen,” she yelled back. His mother’s voice had only two volumes: loud and super-fucking-loud. He walked into the kitchen to see his mother stirring a big pot of something that smelled delicious and two brown-haired little girls sitting in high chairs nearby.

“Hi, girls,” he said, smiling at his nieces.

“Tío Tony!” the two girls squealed.

“What are you doing here?” his mother asked in Spanish.

As he usually did, he answered in English. “Wanted to see my favorite girls.”

“Bullchit. You didn’t even know I was babysitting. Why you really here, hijo?”

His response was a shrug as he unbuckled the girls from their high chairs, picked them up, and swung them around. For the next few hours he played with his nieces and ate his mother’s food. When his sister came to pick up her daughters, he had a few beers with his brother-in-law. It was late in the afternoon when he left, stuffed and with containers full of leftovers. All he wanted to do was lie down and go into a fried-food-and-carb coma without any judgment. It had taken everything in him not to kiss Francesca that morning and tell her how much he loved and missed her. But she’d only come back to babysit him. She hadn’t come back for him. It was all business, and that hurt more than he cared to admit. He was happy Francesca’s car was not there when he pulled into his driveway, but he also couldn’t help worrying about where she was. Miami was a big city, and he assumed that she was staying at least the night, since it was a long drive back. He sent her a quick text: Where you staying?

As he waited for her response, he grabbed a soda, kicked off his shoes, put his feet up on the coffee table, and surfed for a movie on the television. The three kittens shot into the room, and he immediately began to sneeze. “Damn it. Girls, you can’t be on the couch.” He shooed them, careful not to touch them too much, into the cat tree that stood at the far end of the house. Then a big brown cat sauntered over and rubbed its side against Tony’s calf. “Who the hell are you?”

Reluctantly, he turned the collar. “Winston?” he said out loud, and the cat purred. The collar had Francesca’s name on it in case of an emergency. “Since when does Francesca have a cat? A cat named Winston?” He shook his head and decided to ignore the cat for now. He washed his hands and threw his shirt on the floor before taking an antihistamine. Within half an hour, he was sound asleep, not having heard back from Francesca.

Francesca stared at her phone. Where you staying?

She had typed five different responses to that question, ranging from the full-on bitchy None of your fucking business, asshole to I miss you—can I stay at your house? but had deleted all of them. That’s how all-over-the-place her emotions were. She had found a hotel near the gym and was lying in bed with a pizza box and a small wine bottle from the minibar. Since none of the hotels allowed pets, she had left Winston at Tony’s house; she knew he’d take care of him, and really, he already had three cats, so what was one more?

She read the text one last time and decided the best response was no response, since she needed to get a handle on what exactly she wanted. All she knew was that the priority had to be the upcoming fight; they needed to put their differences aside and work hard to win. Everything else needed to be dealt with after the event. She fell asleep an hour later thinking that tomorrow they needed to have a serious chat. At the very least, they had to agree to be civil, professional, and friendly.

At nine the following morning, Francesca knocked on Tony’s door. Cain opened it and let her in. “He’s up but he’s late again,” Cain said, then motioned to the box of donuts on the kitchen table. Her brow furrowed, and she looked at Cain questioningly. “He brought them.”

She grabbed a donut and began to eat it. “He hungover?”

“Don’t know,” Cain responded as he sipped his coffee. When Tony finally came down, he was in his gym clothes. He gave her a terse hello and then grabbed a donut for himself.

Cain snatched it from Tony’s hand and tossed it in the garbage. Tony scowled before reaching for another. “You’re not goin’ to make weight,” Cain said. Francesca took the entire box and threw it away. Tony’s eyes narrowed at both of them. He opened the refrigerator, took out a container, and opened it. It looked like homemade pastries. It was like an orgy of carbs and hydrogenated oils.

Francesca and Cain watched Tony stuff himself with a plateful of pastries and buttered French bread. With a mouthful of food, he said, “We’ll head out in ten minutes.”

Something soft touched her ankle and she looked down to see four cats purring. She reached down and began caressing their soft fur.

“Who the hell names their cat Winston? It’s a ridiculous name.”

“Says the man with three kittens named Ariel, Bella, and Snow White.”

“Cinderella,” he corrected with a mouthful of food.

“Whatever.”

“When did you get a cat?”

She lifted her shoulder and let it drop. “I saw your kittens before I left and decided I wanted one too.”

“That’s not a kitten. That’s a baby tiger. It’s fucking huge. I hope it doesn’t eat my kittens.”

Francesca looked down at her big brown cat. Okay, so maybe he was big. Maybe she was overfeeding him? “So, are you like a crazy cat lady or something? What’s with your cats?”

He swallowed a mouthful of milk. “I thought my nieces needed pets. We never had pets growing up.”

“Me neither,” she put in.

“So I bought them all kittens.”

“That explains the names.”

“Yes. The names,” he groaned. “Two of my sisters, Anita and Maria, were okay with it, but Isabella was not, so she left her daughters’ three cats with me. I should’ve taken them back to the shelter.”

“No!” Francesca broke in.

“But,” he added quickly, “I couldn’t do it. Now I’m stuck with three kittens named after Disney princesses.”

“Oh, they’re not so bad,” Francesca said.

“I’m allergic. I have to take an antihistamine every time I come inside my house now.”

She looked up at him and burst into a fit of laughter. “Yet you’re keeping them.”

“Yet I’m keeping them,” he answered.

She smiled at him before looking back at the kittens. The man was certainly a conundrum.

Then he took a huge bite of pastry. Red filling dripped down one side of his mouth. He licked around his lips.

Cain watched as Tony grabbed another pastry. “Sure about that, brother?”

In response, Tony looked at him and took a huge bite of the fried goodness, crumbs falling everywhere.

Francesca shook her head and watched Tony. She wasn’t sure if he was being defensive because she and Cain had called him out on his diet, or lack thereof, or if he was just being plain dumb. One thing she was certain of: in about twenty minutes he’d regret it.

Half an hour later Francesca walked into the gym. Tony was on the treadmill, so she decided to get on the one next to him. She got a good pace going but had barely broken a sweat. “This is nice, don’t you think? We should do this more often now that I’m in town,” she said.

Tony grunted. “Yeah. Nice.”

She chuckled and continued her run. Forty-five minutes later, the machines came to a stop. Francesca looked over at her electronic monitor and then at his. “Well, look at that. I ran one mile more than you did.”

His breathing was shallow. “I didn’t know we were in a race.”

She lifted her shoulder and smiled cheekily. “We weren’t. Just an observation.” She slapped his butt and winked.

“You’re too chirpy. It’s annoying.” He scowled as he wiped his face with a towel, and he looked a little green.

“Or maybe someone ate too much junk before working out, and that someone is grumpy.”

He huffed before walking away, and she followed closely behind. Cain was waiting by the mats at the rear of the mostly empty gym. “We’re going to work on the floor today.”

“Oh, goody. I can help,” Francesca said. She knew she was annoying the hell out of Tony, but the man had to learn a lesson.

“I’m not doing that today.”

“Wasn’t a request,” Cain said.

“I’m not fucking rolling around on the ground today. We’ve been doing that shit for weeks. I need to make sure I don’t get my face pummeled, so I’m going to work on the speed bag.”

“Tony!” Francesca barked. “You are not in charge. You have to follow Cain’s regimen.”

“You two are just trying to make a point because of the fucking diet thing. I don’t need you to tell me how to cut weight. I know what I’m doing and I’m not grappling today.”

Francesca stood straighter. “You are.”

“Am not.”

“What are you, ten? I’m not getting into this with you, Tony. You will do what Cain says.”

“No skin off my back, brother,” Cain put in. “You already lost once. Maybe this time you’ll have to tap out.”

“Rodrigo’s a World Class champion on the ground. He’ll completely crush you. I bet he’s taking his training seriously, while you, on the other hand…well…” She cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “You’re developing a little gut. You need to cut weight.” She poked his stomach.

Without missing a beat he grabbed her finger and pulled her so quickly and brusquely toward him that she almost lost her footing. He leaned down and put his lips close to her ear so that only she could hear. “Listen up. You’re not going to tell me what to do.”

“Yes, I am. I am in charge. You signed a contract with Worth the Fight Academy. If you don’t start doing what Cain says you need to do, I swear to God, I will invoke the terms of the contract.”

“Which are?” he barked.

“You’ll be penalized every time you miss practice. And if you lose the fight, we can sue you for breach of contract because you didn’t train. You didn’t try.”

“If you think I give a fuck about money, you obviously don’t know shit about me.”

She was so shocked she was speechless. At last she said, “Listen, I didn’t come to Miami to fight with you.” She swallowed. “I’m sorry, okay? I’m sorry that everything is all screwed up and the lines have been blurred and that you’re pissed at me. But you have to train, Tony. Please trust that I know what’s best. If not, at least trust Cain, okay? Be that fighter I used to watch on pay-per-view winning bout after bout. The guy I spent a shitload of money to bring into my team. Be that guy again. I know you can win this, Tony. Just try. Please.”

After a brief hesitation he walked past her, threw his bag aside, and got on the mat with Cain. Francesca let out a relieved breath.

The next day, Cain advised her that Tony had spent all day working on his ground skills. She put on a long white maxi dress, styled her hair, slipped on heels, and drove to his house.

“You look unbelievable,” he said when he opened the door.

“May I come in?” she asked, and he stepped aside to let her in. “Where’s Winston?”

Tony pointed to the other kittens. “Over there. He’s taken over all the cat toys.”

“Thanks for watching him for me. Listen, I want to take you out to dinner. I haven’t really seen much of the city, so I thought maybe we could go to your favorite restaurant. My treat.” His brows knitted questioningly. “Cain told me how hard you trained today, so thank you for that. Plus I’ve spent two days eating fast food. I could use a real meal, and I don’t know any places around here.”

He said nothing, and she began to think that maybe this hadn’t been a good idea. “Uh…it’s no big deal. Never mind.” She jerked a thumb over her shoulder. “I’ll just go. I’m sorry I…uh…okay, bye.” She turned to leave, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her into him. She could’ve sworn he sniffed her, but she didn’t move.

He looked tired, and there was a sadness behind his eyes that she’d never seen before. “Let me just go change. I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.”

Francesca took the opportunity to really look at his house. Everything was modern, long straight lines and hard edges. The cold marble floors lacked an area rug, the pale walls with modern art lacked photos of family and friends. It all seemed very sterile and generic. She loathed it. But the purr of the cats brought a smile to her face. She kneeled on the floor and the three kittens quickly rushed to her, but Winston’s big fat furry body pushed the kittens aside and he tried to jump on her. At the last second, she remembered that Tony was allergic and quickly stood before they had a chance to get too close to her. She bent at the waist and cooed and talked to them from a distance.

“Hope you didn’t rub yourself all over them, or else I’ll be sneezing all night,” Tony said as he came down the stairs.

“Nope. I remembered and stayed away. It was hard, though.” She looked down. “They’re so freakin’ cute.”

He chuckled. “So are you.” She looked up at him and smiled back. “So where are you staying?”

“At a hotel a few blocks from your gym. It’s nice.”

“How long are you staying in town?”

“Until the fight,” she responded.

“I have so many empty rooms, you should just stay here. You can have the spare room at the end of the hall. Don’t waste your money on a hotel.”

“I—uh—I don’t know.”

“At the very least, I hope we’re friends.”

“Absolutely.”

“Then give me a good reason why you don’t want to stay here.”

She looked at him with a raised eyebrow, instead of stating the obvious.

He shook his head. “You’re staying here. I’d do it for any of my friends. Cain’s staying out back. You can stay too. You can help me with the cats. I can’t get close to them.”

“Okay, but are you sure?”

“Of course. Come on, let’s go check you out of the hotel and get your stuff and bring it back before we go to dinner.”

“If you’re sure…”

“Yes. I’m sure.”

An hour later he was dropping her bags on the floor of the spare room. He handed her a paper with the code to the front door scribbled on it. “Here, don’t lose it.”

“I won’t.” She folded the paper and stuck it in her purse. “Come on. I’m starving.”

“This is lovely.” Francesca closed her eyes and inhaled the warm ocean breeze. They were seated outside at a trendy Ocean Drive restaurant filled mostly with affluent tourists.

Tony smiled at her. It was nice to see her, especially since she seemed so much more relaxed. “I’m glad it’s not too hot and we were able to sit outside. It’s a fun place to watch all the eccentric people walk by, and the food is great.”

Francesca picked up her menu and began looking it over. “How was today? Cain said you did great.”

“Everything hurts.” He stretched his arms over his head.

“Will probably hurt more tomorrow. But it’ll be worth it. You really needed the training—Rodrigo’s a black belt in jiu jitsu.”

Tony leaned back and crossed his legs, ankle to knee. “Oh, that sounds serious.”

“Don’t be an ass. He’s good, Tony. I’ve seen—”

He groaned and was on the verge of saying something that would undoubtedly erupt in an argument, but at the last moment he decided against it. Luckily, the waitress came at that moment to tell them about the long list of specials, which served as a great distraction. When she left them alone again to decide, Tony skimmed though the menu and tried to enjoy Francesca’s company. Any mention of Rodrigo, or of any man who had even so much as looked at Francesca, irked him. It immediately soured his mood. But he understood he was being ridiculous, especially since he had a past himself. He was trying to keep his jealousy and temper in check, but when he heard Rodrigo’s name it took some serious internal reflection to cool him down. He didn’t want to ruin a nice evening out.

“What are you going to order?” she asked. “Maybe I’ll just get that special with the shrimp.”

He shrugged.

“Have you been here many times?”

“No. Just once or twice.”

She set her menu down carefully, clasped her hands together on the table, and looked at him. He looked back. They were at a stalemate. One of them had to speak soon, and he wasn’t planning on being the first.

“What’s going on with you tonight?”

He closed his menu abruptly, put it aside, and leaned forward. “I’m just annoyed. But it’s nothing. Really.” He reached for her hand across the table and squeezed it. “I’m really glad we’re here, Francesca.”

She looked at him curiously for a moment before smiling as the waitress came by to take their order.

They both sat back and let the nice summer breeze envelop them. They people-watched in silence, both lost in their thoughts. As soon as the food was set in front of them, they began to eat. She immediately picked out all the tomatoes and placed them on his plate without looking up.

When they weren’t arguing, he thought, they worked well together. Apart they were kind of a mess, but as a unit they were perfect. He made her strong where she was weak, and she pushed him to his limits when he needed pushing.

“Let’s go get a drink,” he said once he had taken care of the bill. He was about to grab her hand but stopped himself, unsure where they stood. There was too much awkwardness radiating off them, and it bothered him.

He walked up to the bouncer, who tapped his fist against Tony’s before moving the velvet rope aside to let them through. Tony led them to a quiet area off to the side. “Be right back. Stay here.” He strode away before she could reply.

“Frances? Frances, is that you?”

She turned around to find one of her oldest friends, someone she hadn’t seen in years. “Justin? Oh my God, honey! How are you?” she squealed, and threw her arms around him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m dating the owner!” Justin winked. “I come in and help out when it gets really busy.”

“I tried to look you up when I moved back to Tarpon Springs.”

“You’re living there again?”

“Yep. Dad got sick, and I’m running the Academy.”

“Well, you won’t find me in that little town anytime soon. I moved to Miami about six years ago. I met Chris last year, and now we’re living together and it’s just been magical.” He put his hands on her shoulders and gave her a once-over. “And you, darling? You look stunning!” He leaned in and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

“Thank you!” She laughed. “You do too. Miami suits you.”

He leaned closer. “No, darling, Chris suits me!” He held his hands out to show a measurement and winked.

Tony paid for their drinks and turned around. A tall slender man with long hair tied back had his hands on Francesca’s shoulders. She laughed as the man leaned in and whispered something in her ear before winking. He grabbed Francesca’s phone and typed something into it, then kissed her cheek and walked away. Tony felt a surge of anger the likes of which he’d never experienced before. Yes, she hated his temper, but damn it, he was in love with her. He’d told her that, and she’d run away. He respected that and was giving her time, but there was no way he could accept her openly flirting with another man right in front of his face.

Tony came back and handed her the wine. The music was pounding and there were a lot of people moving to the beat. He seemed so distant, and she wasn’t sure exactly what the correct thing to say was, but she had to say something. Maybe she had to be the bigger person and apologize.

“Tony…” She reached for his hand in order to get his attention and brought her lips close to his ear so he could hear her. “In the restaurant, was the Rodrigo comment what pissed you off?”

He didn’t answer. She put her hands on his shoulders and leaned in. The music was loud and she wanted to make sure he heard her apology. “I’m sorry for mentioning Rodrigo. I didn’t say it to upset you. And I’m sorry for talking work while we were having a nice evening out. I’m always telling you we shouldn’t mix business and pleasure, and there I was talking about work. Not that we’re, you know, together,” she stammered. She wasn’t sure if he was over her, and maybe she’d overstepped.

She thought he was going to say something sweet in response and then everything would be back to normal. Instead, he said into her ear, “You want to keep business and pleasure separate? Then don’t fucking get in my business again.” He tipped his head up and swallowed the rest of his drink. She was so surprised, she actually took a step back. He had a terrible temper, and they’d argued—a lot. But she’d never been on the receiving end of a raging mad Tony. At that moment a woman came by and blatantly flirted with Tony. He smiled at her before glancing over at Francesca.

“Hey, you’re Scarface!” the woman squealed.

“I am.”

“Aren’t you Jimmy’s cousin? He talks about you all the time. He’s right back there. I’m here with him,” the brunette said, pointing behind her.

“Oh, damn. I haven’t seen him in years. Give me a second. Meet you there.” He turned to the bar and ordered himself another drink, completely ignoring Francesca. He took the drink and then, without a glance at Francesca, headed off to see his cousin. Or was it to see the brunette? Who the hell knew, but she wasn’t going to sit there and wait to find out.

She put a hand on his arm to stop him. “I’m tired, Tony. I want to go home. And you really need to stop drinking. You have to be at the gym by eight in the morning.”

“I’m not leaving yet.” He gulped down his drink.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough? Cain’ll be pissed if you’re too hungover to train.”

“Stop telling me what to do.”

“Fine. I’m leaving.” She turned around, but before she could move, he grabbed her forearm, spun her around, and crashed his lips to hers. It was rough, too rough. His hand skimmed the side of her body before ending on her ass. When he released her, he took her palm and slapped a fifty-dollar bill in it. Her eyes were questioning. “For the cab.” He turned and left her standing there, completely shocked. She looked around and saw people staring. Tony, a well-known fighter from the area, had just mauled her in front of a bunch of people and then handed her money. He’d made her look like some kind of paid whore. She was fuming when she walked out and hailed a cab.

Cain was in the kitchen when she came in. He gave her his usual chin lift.

“Hi,” she responded as she poured herself a glass of water.

“You okay?”

“Tony’s a dick. But yeah, I’m fine.”

“Where is he?”

She lifted her shoulders and then dropped them.

“How’d you get home?” he asked.

“Cab.”

Cain looked at his watch. “At three in the morning? Alone?”

“I can take care of myself.” She put her glass in the sink. “Goodnight.”

A commotion woke her up. It was almost nine in the morning, but she’d had a restless night and it was early morning when she’d finally found sleep. Quickly she wrapped a cotton robe around herself and walked downstairs.

Tony was stumbling off the couch to the kitchen. He filled a large glass of water and took out some aspirin.

Once he’d swallowed it all, he glanced around and found Francesca’s eyes. He looked down in shame.

Cain walked in before anything was said. “You’re late.” He took a good look at the fighter. “And you’re hungover.”

Tony snorted. “No. Probably still drunk.”

“Nice,” Cain said with a scowl. His face didn’t show any signs of amusement. “She took a taxi.” He pointed to Francesca.

Francesca took a step toward him. “Cain, don’t—”

He put his hand in front of Francesca and cut her off. “Not talking to you.” He turned to Tony. “You have twenty minutes and then we leave for the gym.” He took another step toward the other man. “Three in the morning. She took a taxi.”

Tony’s shoulders slumped, but Cain continued. “I don’t care what happened. I don’t care whether she’s your woman or not. You always take a woman home. That’s fucked up.” He jabbed his finger into Tony’s shoulder, then left.

“Francesca,” Tony whispered, and moved toward her.

“It’s fine, Tony.” She sidestepped him. “Just go. Cain’s waiting.”

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Francesca turned and went back up the stairs. She slept most of the day and didn’t see either Cain or Tony that evening.

The next morning when she woke up, she was still mad about what had happened with Tony, but more than anger, she felt sadness. She dressed quickly and went downstairs, expecting to see him. But the house was quiet, so instead of sitting around she decided to go for a jog.

By the time she’d finished her jog, she expected Tony to be home, but the house was still empty. She took a moment to look at the place in the daylight. It was the biggest, ugliest house she’d ever seen. It looked like a giant microwave. By the look of the houses around the neighborhood, this was an expensive area, but while all the other homes looked as if they belonged in an old beautiful Spanish village, Tony’s looked out of place. It was modern and white, a straight-lined box. She hated it.

She went inside and up to her room to continue her workout. An hour later she was startled by a voice behind her.

“What are you doing?” Tony was leaning against the doorway, his arms crossed, his head tilted downward, and his brow furrowed.

Francesca was doing a handstand. As soon as she heard him, she pushed her legs down and came upright again. Her cheeks were pink from the flow of blood down to her head, and her ponytail was askew.

“A handstand,” she said matter-of-factly. She was breathing erratically, her chest rising and falling as she fussed with her ponytail. He pushed off the wall and strode toward her. She put her hands on her hips and looked up at him.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. You don’t owe me anything, least of all an explanation.”

He took a step forward, but she sidestepped him.

“I don’t like seeing you with men,” he blurted out.

“Okay.” She looked at him quizzically.

“I can’t help the jealousy. I just can’t. I’m sorry.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The guy at the club. You were all giggly and touchy with some guy, and I got jealous, and I’m sorry. We may not be together, but I can’t help the way I feel.”

“Justin?”

“Stupid name.”

“Real mature.” She snorted. “Justin’s gay. He’s dating the owner of the club. He’s an old friend I haven’t seen in years.”

Tony’s demeanor seemed to shift slightly. “Gay?”

“Yeah, gay. As in not interested in me. Not that I’d be interested in him even if he weren’t gay. You shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.”

“It doesn’t change anything.”

“Uh, yeah, it kind of does. It shows that you had nothing to worry about.”

“He has a dick and balls. I don’t want him talking to you.”

She looked at him as if he was crazy—and maybe he was. “You don’t want me to talk to him? Are you insane?”

“I hate you talking to the guys at the Academy, the waiters in restaurants, the guys who change your oil at the garage. Everyone with a cock. I hate them talking to you. That’s what you do to me! I don’t want you alone with any man. Ever. No one. Not a single fucking man. I don’t care if he’s gay or not. They all want to fuck you. There, I said it.”

She had to laugh. “You know that’s crazy, right?”

“I know!” he yelled in frustration, his hands flailing over his head.

“I would never cheat on you. If you and I were together, I wouldn’t cheat on you. You’ve got to trust me.”

He groaned and pulled at his hair as he paced around the room. “Well, you’ve got to let me love you. That’s all I want. Just let me fucking love you, Francesca!”

She threw her own arms up, just as frustrated as he. “I do want you to love me! And I want to love you!” she yelled back.

They both fell silent and stared at each other, breathing heavily.

She finally spoke first. “I can’t be with someone who flies off the handle when any man approaches me. Jesus, Tony, I work with men all day.”

“I swear to you that I will try to control my temper and my jealousy. I promise you. Be patient with me, mi amor.”

She was quiet for a few moments. “Be patient with me too,” she finally said softly. It was all she said, but she knew he understood what she meant. She needed to come to terms with the fact that she was in love with him, and he needed to be patient and let her figure it out. “I missed you so much,” she admitted.

“Can I kiss you?” he asked. When she nodded, he put his hands on the sides of her neck and his lips connected with hers. It had been too long. When she tasted him, when his tongue darted out and she melted into him, she knew they’d find a way to work things out.

He pulled away first. “I missed you too.”

“I want to try. Let’s try.”

“Thank fuck!” he yelled at the ceiling, making her laugh. “So, a handstand, huh?”

“Yep. You want to work out with me?” she asked.

“Here in the room?”

“Sure. I like to keep up my skills.”

“Handstand skills?”

“Jiu jitsu skills. I like to keep up my strength training and flexibility. Plus I had a lot of energy to burn off today.”

“You are very flexible. You know, I can help with that burning-off-energy stuff. It’s been too long since I touched you.”

Nothing registered with her except his glistening lips and his heated expression.

Except she still needed to explain a few important things. He needed to know that there was a line between the bedroom and the gym. A very real, very visible line that had to stay in place no matter what happened between them.

“One more thing, Tony.”

“What is it?”

“If we’re going to try to be together again, and if this thing is going to work, then you need to respect me. Professionally, you need to listen to what I tell you and trust that I’m telling you for the good of the gym and for you.”

“I thought about that these past few weeks. In the gym, when we’re training, you’re the boss. You can be in charge. Outside of the gym, I’m in charge. That’s what you need. It’s what I need.”

“What? That’s what I need?” She rolled her eyes.

“To everyone else you are a confident, take-charge kind of woman, but I know you like it when I take charge.”

“No, I—”

He could tell she was starting to get upset. “Yes, you do. You want it and you’ll love it. It’s what you need. Trust me. Trust that I’m not going to hurt you. But you need me to kiss you. That’s what you need.”

Before she realized what he meant, he stepped to her side, wrapped one arm around her waist, and gently dropped her flat on her back. “Took me two seconds to get you on your back. You need to really practice those skills of yours, mi amor. You see, I don’t need that much help. If I can take the great Francesca Silva down, I don’t need to worry about anything.” He was still standing, his feet on either side of her knees. She looked up at the cocky bastard. Maybe he needed an actual hands-on lesson.

Quickly she grabbed his right ankle with her left hand and elevated her hips enough so that when she moved her left leg in between his parted legs, her thighs squeezed in a quick scissor movement, causing his right leg to be swept down to the floor. Unlike his takedown, her method was not gentle and his body landed on the marble floor with a big thump. As soon as he realized what had happened, Tony turned his gaze toward a very satisfied Francesca, who was lying on her side, holding her head up with her palm, a big smirk on her face.

“Ha ha,” Tony said. “I’m going to wipe that smirk right off your face.”

“Like to see you tr—” Before she could finish the statement, he rolled over and tried to straddle her. But as soon as his butt touched her midsection, she swiftly grabbed his left ankle with both of her hands. Again she tilted her hips up and flipped him over onto his back in one swift movement. Tony was so surprised, he didn’t have a chance to react until he felt a sharp pain on his left thigh from her right elbow pushing into it. Before he could move she was straddling him.

“Whoa!” He reached for her waist. “Okay, fine. You know a thing or two.”

She looked down and scowled at him, swatting his chest. “You’re getting better. You have two months before the fight. Can you admit you need help?”

“Right now I’ll admit to just about anything.”

He flipped them over and she was on her back again, her hands pinned down. “I’ve missed you so much,” he confessed. “I need to touch you.”

She just closed her eyes.

“I don’t want to lose control ever again,” she admitted.

He looked down at her. “Did you lose control when we were apart?”

“I was sad, but I survived. I didn’t think I would, but I did.”

“See? You’re strong. You will always survive.” He lifted her shirt and pointed to her tattoo. “You can be sad and still be okay. I won’t hurt you. I promise you that.”

“Why do you want me, Tony? You can have any woman out there, and you pick the one who’s so messed up that she’s scared to fall in love because it could break her if you left. So fucked up that she can’t physically say the l-word. Why me? You have your shit together. You don’t need me to come in and cause all this drama.”

“I have my shit together?” He laughed humorlessly. “I’m scared of failing and of my career coming to an end in a knockout. Of being humiliated. I’m scared to tell you that I want to retire after the next fight because you’ll probably never want to see me again. I’m scared to talk to you about the future and you running away. I’m a mess too. But don’t you see we’re better together than apart?”

“I want you to be happy. I don’t want you to fight if your heart isn’t in it anymore. If you want to retire, I’m fine with that. Hell, I’ll throw you a party if that’s what makes you happy. I don’t understand why you’d be scared to talk to me about the future.”

“Because the future is you. It’s you by my side, as my wife. My future is you and kids and four ridiculously named cats, but you have to love me first. And that scares the shit out of me. You can’t even admit you like me.”

She laughed. “I am completely and utterly in like with you, Tony.”

“Well, shit. That’s something.” He smiled and gave her a kiss. “We’re finally getting somewhere.”

“Tony?”

“Yes?”

“I want to love you.”

“I know, mi amor. You’ll get there.”

Francesca flipped them over again and straddled Tony’s thick thighs. He cupped her ass and pulled her closer to him. Her fingers pushed through his hair, but Tony reached up and untangled them as he brought her down against his body and kissed her. His tongue was frenzied in her mouth and the low rumble of his groan was making her crazy. He placed her hand behind his neck, but she wanted her hands everywhere. She couldn’t get enough of this man. He was hot…and quite frankly it had been a long time. Unsure what possessed her to act so brazenly, she began to pull at his shirt, but he held both her hands with one of his. It was a power struggle. He just continued to kiss her, his free hand roaming her ass. He nipped and sucked her bottom lip.

“Tony…”

He didn’t say anything. Didn’t speed it up. She needed more and she needed it now. She tried to pull her hands out of his grip, but he wasn’t letting go. She pulled harder, and he gripped tighter as his tongue made love to hers. It was a fight for control, and he was showing her up.

He said against her lips, “You going to keep fighting?”

He sat up, never separating his mouth from hers, his grip firmly around her. She snaked her arms between his and used her elbows to force his arms apart. And then she took the lead. She heard a low growl, but she didn’t care. Her tongue penetrated his mouth viciously. It was as if she were thirsty and only savoring from his mouth would quench that thirst. Once again she ran her fingers through his hair and pulled. Her gyrations became harder and more forceful against his strained cock. Tony wanted to laugh, but didn’t want to piss her off. She wanted to pretend she was in control, and he would give her a taste. After a few minutes of her assaulting his mouth he turned the tables on her. Quickly, before she could even process what was happening, he stood, leaving her no other choice but to wrap her legs around his waist or fall flat on her ass. Their lips never parted. She grabbed his hair, nipped his lip, and sucked his tongue. His temptress wanted it rough, it seemed. Her hand roamed his neck, his back, his face. She was everywhere, as if she couldn’t get enough. She might think she wanted to take charge, but really, she was in such a lust-filled haze that she was actually out of control. Her movements were rough and erratic, and he needed to take the lead and show her how good he could make it for her. All he needed was for her to surrender control.

Suddenly she was flying through the air, and she let out an involuntary “oof” as her body landed unceremoniously on the bed. She scooted back toward the headboard to allow him room to get in with her, but he grabbed her ankles and pulled her toward the foot of the bed. He wrapped his arm around her waist, flipped her to her stomach, and lifted her ass in the air. He lowered her tight yoga pants, taking her panties down with them, exposing just her ass. In this position she was essentially immobile, because her clothes and his arm holding her in place didn’t allow for much movement.

Francesca looked over her shoulder to see Tony’s eyes glazed with lust and his eyes fixed on her ass. A moan escaped her when he spread her ass cheeks and licked down to her clit in one long motion. She wanted—no, needed—to spread her knees apart but he wouldn’t allow it. She was definitely not in charge. He pushed her lower onto the bed, bringing her ass higher. He continued to lick and suck, and then he added a finger. Instead of trying to get the upper hand, she pushed against his fingers, needing more. She felt vulnerable in this position but couldn’t deny how turned on she felt. He was relentless with his fingers and tongue. She tried to flip over, trying all her jiu jitsu moves one after another, but the more she fought, the tighter his grip. Her breath was labored, and she was a mixture of pissed off and horny.

“You ready to play nice?” he asked, taking her to the precipice and then stopping.

At that moment she would agree to anything. She moaned into the bed.

“Is that a yes? Can I do whatever I want with this body?” He didn’t move, though. His eyes just roamed her sex in a lascivious way that made her squirm. He then flipped her to her back but held her thighs down with one knee, and with his free hand he reached for her breasts and squeezed and played with her nipple. He bent down slightly and blew a small puff of air at her nipples. Her eyes widened, and he grinned in satisfaction.

The son of a bitch. She squirmed again and tried to wriggle in order to get the friction she needed to move away or flip him over. But the cocky motherfucker just winked. Now she really wanted to win this little fight.

“Are you ready to play nice, Francesca?” he repeated. His accent was thick and sultry, and damned if it didn’t make her even wetter.

“Absolutely fucking not! I am not going to come this way. Let me go.” She pouted, hoping he believed her, because she would pretty much come if he just looked at her. But no way would she ever admit it. “You can’t make me come this way. It won’t work.”

“I can’t?” He ran his finger up and down her wet slit and then looked at his glistening finger. “I really think I can,” he gloated before licking his finger. “You know a man like me can’t walk away from a challenge. And this, sweetheart, seems like a challenge if ever there was one.”

Shit, that had not been her intention at all. She had hoped he’d just give up and let them have their normal vanilla sex, where she wasn’t exactly in charge but they were on a somewhat level playing field. If there was something that got a man like Tony going, it was giving him a challenge.

He didn’t give her a chance to explain that it wasn’t a challenge, because he grabbed her thighs and parted them further. Before she knew it his tongue was flicking her clit again.

Her hands fisted the pillow above her head as her body automatically arched up. But he was having none of that. Tony held her hips down as he continued his assault with his mouth. He pulled back a little, opened up her lips, and blew. She writhed under him, unable to control herself. He reached up with one hand and pulled and pinched her nipple as his mouth went right back to work. She had never experienced so much sensation. The man was talented, and he was clearly up to the challenge of taking charge and making her orgasm.

He pulled her pants the rest of the way off. She knew it was happening, but she didn’t see it, because she was unable to open her eyes. All her concentration was currently solely focused on breathing. But she felt movement, and then the cool air hit her overly sensitized body. She was way past modesty, so she didn’t stop him—not that she could even if she’d wanted to.

He slowly slid over her body. He must have stripped at some point—though she wasn’t sure when it happened—because she felt his muscular ridges against her skin. He brought her hands over her head as he traveled up her body. He used one knee and then the other to part her legs. His eyes never leaving hers, he entered her slowly and gently, the complete opposite of the oral assault he’d just given her. When he was all the way in, he closed his eyes and groaned in pleasure.

“Fuuuuck,” he drawled. It was clear from his expression that the physical and emotional sensation was overwhelming. When she began to move under him, he shook his head. “Don’t move.” He opened his eyes, and she saw his Adam’s apple bob. “Give me a second.”

She nodded, because really, what else could she say? She was so full of emotions and sensation, she was speechless.

She planted one foot on the bed and tried to flip over, but he grabbed her hip and held her down.

“I can’t believe you’re going to keep fighting me.” He rested his forehead against hers. “Outside this bedroom, you can fight me all you want. But in this bed, you’re fucking mine, and I please my woman. Relax, because it’s going to happen. I’m giving you everything you want. You want to be the boss lady? Fine. Boss me around all you want. I’ll do anything and everything. But here, in our fucking bed, you’ll close your eyes and let go. It’s gonna be good, Francesca.” He pushed forward, a little more roughly. “But if you want to keep fighting me, go ahead. It’s getting me all fucking hard.” He pushed in again, harder this time. “As you can see.” He looked down at the connection between them, then placed his palm on her belly and used his thumb to stroke her clit. She whimpered loudly, and he took the opportunity to make it even better. He grabbed her ass and pulled it up at the same time as he put her legs over his shoulders. He began to move slowly. “Do you want me to stop?”

“Hell no!” It seemed she wanted to play. She grunted and again tried to flip him over or at the very least get away from him, but he just chuckled.This only maddened her further, and she thrust her pelvis up. He obviously didn’t see that move coming because he lost his balance slightly, just enough that she was able to quickly scoot toward the back of the bed again. He regained his balance and crawled toward her, but she stood up on the bed and avoided his grip, wrestling with him until he was flat on his chest on the bed and she was straddling him. Lot of good this position did for her aching need, but at least she had the upper hand. Or so she thought until he flipped her over so quickly that she thought she was going to fall off the bed.

He began to pound into her. This time it was hard, and the bed creaked and rattled underneath them. As soon as his finger touched her clit, her eyes closed and a moan escaped her. But the touch was so brief she felt as if she was going to burst if he didn’t do something to alleviate the ache quickly. She kicked his upper back gently with her heel, but he just ignored it.

“I’m going to win every time. I guarantee you that, Francesca. So just let go and let me make you come.” His voice made her lower abdomen vibrate all the way to her pussy.

When he began touching her clit again, she finally relaxed, closed her eyes, and allowed the inevitable to happen. Her orgasm ravaged her body with such intensity that she didn’t even recognize her own voice when she yelled out his name. He had total control of her body—and damn it all to hell if it didn’t feel fucking magnificent.

He looked down at her. She looked sated, her cheeks pink and her face glowing.

Hell had actually frozen the fuck over. He had taken charge of the one woman no one could control, and he’d made her fucking glow. He felt amazing, and he wanted to make sure he made her feel just as good as she made him feel. He loved her too much to disappoint her, and he vowed at that moment to get his shit together—to train as hard as he possibly could in order to win the fight for her. After that, he was going to have a serious talk with her about retiring and spending the rest of his life trying to make her happy. And, goddammit, getting her to finally admit she was as head over ass in love with him as he was with her.