Micah Rinaldi was escorted to the dressing room, where his team fawned over him. He closed his eyes during the massage of his shoulder muscles by expert hands. His trainer congratulated him and raved about the knockout. “You pack one hell of a punch, my friend.”
Then another voice broke in. “Micah…hey, you ready to party? You deserve it. Loved that punch.” It was Luke Griffin, his friend and partner. He watched him saunter over, looking like he was the one who’d won the fight.
In his tight sleeveless shirt and jeans, Luke had a fighter persona and could have been the one in the ring. But multiple injuries kept him from entering any boxing matches, although he was good to have in his corner if Micah got in any brawls. Which was frequently.
“Yeah, we’re wrapping it up here, right, coach?” Micah hopped down from the table, and Luke gave him a pat on the back. “You are one mean son of a bitch to watch. You could have knocked that guy cold sooner, couldn’t you? You were just playing with him.”
Micah flexed his hands and rolled his shoulders. “Could be,” he said. “What’s the fun in knocking him out in the first round? The crowd comes to see a fight.”
“They come to see that thunder punch, and you gave it to them.” Luke swung his jacket over his shoulder. “The limo is parked out back. I thought we could avoid the crowds.”
“You wish.”
Out back, Micah slid into the black limo and Luke followed. He sat looking at a row of women seated across from him, each one trying to outdo the other in looking sexy. It wasn’t that they didn’t do a good job of it, and on another night Micah would have been all in with that.
But he thought of another woman, who had been sitting up front at the fight. She had long brunette hair that hung in spiral curls, so feminine it made him hard. She had beautiful eyes and flawless skin. He wondered what it would feel like to palm her soft breasts, an urge that he had found distracting every time her satin rhinestone blouse caught his eye.
“Hey, Micah.” The tall blonde in a short skirt that revealed her shapely legs cooed at him, then slid over onto his lap. “You were so stro-o-ng tonight.” She squeezed his shoulders as if to remind him of his strength, and how willing she was to make him happy.
The other girls fluffed their hair and crossed their legs, digging the spiky heels of their shoes into the carpet. Micah did love women. And he had plenty. That was a definite benefit of getting in the ring. Women seemed to fall at his feet.
Yet he was frustrated that he didn’t know who that other woman was.
Luke made himself at home at the bar, while the limo drove them to the party. He made sure the girls had a drink of their choice before pouring whiskey for himself. “You drinking?” he asked, knowing that when Micah trained he had to abstain.
Unfortunately, abstaining wasn’t his strength. “Yeah, pour me what you’re having.” Micah needed a drink. He’d planned to get back out to the main room, and track down that woman in the baby-blue shirt before she vanished. No such luck. The instant the fight had been over, he’d been surrounded by his support crew and attacked by the press.
Short of using one of his punches to fight his way through the crowd, he’d had no choice but to be patient. Again, not something he was good at. But by the time he’d scanned the main room again, she’d been gone. Maybe he could have his promoter research ticket purchases and track down all the women with seats near the front.
Luke was laughing and drinking, with the girls joining in. Micah just couldn’t get into the spirit of it. Possibly he’d been to more parties than he cared to. He liked drinking, dancing, women, and being the center of attention. So what was wrong with him?
Wherever he went, Micah had an entourage: women, reporters, trainers. Half the time he didn’t know who they were or their names, nor did it seem to matter. Each one wanted a part of the action, to be close to the limelight, touch the badass fighter, and bask in his moment of glory. Yet he didn’t care about all of that. Fighting was what got his blood pumping, the thrill of being in the ring. That’s what it was all about.
The limo slowed then stopped. The door opened and Luke got out first, then Micah. Cameras flashed, and a crowd of fans yelled. Luke parted the sea of people so they could get to the door of the club. Managing to avoid being mauled on the way in, Micah entered the dark interior. Some guy behind him shoved past, and Micah grabbed his shirt. “Watch it, asshole.” The guy glanced back with an angry look, taking a moment before realizing who he’d just bumped. “Sure. Sorry. Good fight tonight, man.”
Micah released the fistful of shirt, and scanned the party to check out the scene. The circular bar was in the center, and the dance floor was at the back. Groups of people clustered together, filling the space. The loud bass of a rock tune reverberating off the walls, making talking next to impossible.
Luke pointed to a table near the dancing, and Micah followed. The blonde hung on one arm, and a brunette that he hadn’t been introduced to put her hand on his back, as if she belonged with him. The women swayed across the floor in the high heels, heads high, as if to say, “Look who I’m with.”
The party was in full swing, loud and rowdy. Micah ordered a drink and nursed it for a few minutes, sizing things up. The brunette stood up and motioned for him to dance with her. Why not? He put his arm around her and swept her across the floor, then moved to the rock beat.
But his mind was on something else, someone else.
Micah was used to women in the audience screaming and shouting during the fights. It was quite a show, with many wearing barely there clothing, accenting their ample cleavage, and adorning their bodies with flashy jewelry to catch his attention. It was ego boosting, and a sight that he rather enjoyed. He could have his pick, and often did.
But the one woman who had caught his eye hadn’t been screaming. She had been looking, though, and he was sure that she’d liked what she’d seen. Micah hadn’t delayed the knockout just for the sake of the audience. He’d wanted to show off, stay in the ring for as long as he could.
All to gain the attention of a woman he didn’t know. And now he might not know her, unless his promoters came up with a name. He’d mentioned it to his trainer. “What do you want a list of women for, Micah? They’re lining up outside the door. Just pick one.”
But Micah didn’t want to. Not tonight.
One song flowed into the next, so Micah continued dancing. The brunette bumped close to him, making suggestive gestures, and he put his arm around her waist. She was a looker. Luke was dancing with the blonde that had been on his lap earlier.
When the music shifted to something slower, Micah went back to the table with the brunette right behind him. He ordered another drink and took a couple of gulps. One woman was like another, right? That was how it had been for him, since…well, for a long time.
His trainer was right. What did he need with a list of women, just so he could cull the list and find her? How would he even know it was her? Maybe the seats were purchased by a company or offered by one of the hotels.
Finding her was like looking for a needle in a haystack, unless she came to another one of his fights. That might be an issue, since the fight circuit moved around. Micah drained his glass and watched Luke gyrate on the dance floor to the beat. The playlist offered a song with a faster rhythm, and the woman next to him nodded toward the floor.
Micah contemplated dancing, and looked out at the crowd. There she was, the woman from the fight. It was an after-fight party. It made sense that she would be there. Yet it hadn’t occurred to him. She wore black jeans with boots, and her blouse sparkled under the disco lights.
Her long hair bounced and swayed as she danced, smiling at her partner. That irked Micah. Was she with some guy? He hadn’t noticed anyone next to her in the audience, except women. Now he had her in his sights, but some dude had her attention. That annoyed him.
Micah stood up, and the brunette looked up at him. He ignored her and strode onto the dance floor. He stepped in front of the dude and looked right at her. He didn’t bother asking, “May I?” He just started dancing, noticing her startled expression.
Micah watched her move to the booming music, his eyes settling on her blouse and the gentle movement of her breasts as she danced. He reached out and took her hand, spun her around, and caught her in his arm. She didn’t object.
She smelled of vanilla and sunshine, turning him on. He ran his hand down her arm, feeling her soft skin. Then he pulled her close, dancing as one, with her breasts pressed close so he could feel them against his chest.
The song ended, and she gave him a cursory smile before taking a step away. Her motion said she was leaving, but her eyes held a different message. Micah scooped her up into his arms and carried her off the floor. She squealed and wiggled, but he didn’t put her down.
Micah needed a quieter place to talk, to find out who she was. There was a hallway to the bathrooms, so he took it, and, glancing up the hall, he spotted an open door. That would have to do. Pushing the door open, he went inside and kicked the door shut with his foot.
“What are you doing?” she said, a little breathless.
Her hair was damp around the edges from dancing, and her chest heaved gently from the exertion. Micah got a good look at her, and decided his instinct was right. She was a hottie. Her jeans fit as if tailored to her. Her skin fairly glowed even under the fluorescent lights. And her soft brown eyes sparked with fire, making him want to fan the flames.
There was a loud knock on the door. “Hey, open up. The door is locked. That’s my office.”
Micah didn’t take his eyes off of her. “It’s my office now. Go away.”
Her eyes widened. “Are you holding me hostage?”
Not a bad idea, kinda kinky. “No, I just needed a place where we can talk. It’s too loud out there.”
She lifted her chin and squared her shoulders. Just as he’d thought, she was a fireball. He liked that. “So talk. What do you have to say?”
“What’s your name?”
She glared at him then sighed. “That’s what you hauled me back here to ask? You could have done that out there.”
Micah stepped close and put his hand low on her spine, holding her in place. “But I couldn’t do this out there.” He dug his hands in her shiny hair, what he’d wanted to do since he saw her looking up at him from her seat. Taking a breath, he drew in her scent, his blood hot.
She pulled free. “Why should I tell you my name?”
“Why not tell me your name?”
With a flip of her hair, she blurted it out as if to get this over with. “Gisele Shelton. Now can I go back to the party?”
“I saw you at my fight.”
Gisele’s eyes gleamed, but she held back the emotion he saw there. “No, I saw you at the fight,” she said. “I was in the audience, remember?”
“I’m not likely to forget that.” Micah blocked the path to the door, considering his options. “I’ll make you an offer.”
“An offer?”
“Yes, you see I noticed you in the audience and wanted to meet you, only you vanished.”
Gisele stared at him, waiting to see what he had in mind. He wasn’t going to proposition her, if that was what she thought. If all went well, she’d beg to get in his bed before the night was over.
“I’d like you to join me at the party for the evening,” Micah said. “Dance, drink, talk, whatever strikes us.”
Gisele didn’t flinch. She looked proud, and he wondered what gave her such confidence. But he didn’t ask. He waited for her to respond. She looked into his eyes, and Micah noticed the flush of her skin, a good sign.
“Do you always get what you want?”
Micah held his ground. “Yes. I take what I want.”
Then she smiled, a little bit at first, then broader. Micah found himself smiling back. “So that’s a yes?”
Gisele laughed. “I thought you were going to make me an offer. That’s just stating what you want. What’s in it for me?”
“You get a whole night with me, how about that?”
“Well, I was right. You’re exactly the type of guy that I should steer clear of,” Gisele said.
“What type of guy is that?”
“Cocky, with a feeling of entitlement.” Gisele looked right at him, and he felt it deep in his core. “And dangerous.”
Micah grabbed her wrist and pulled her to him, looking down into her caramel eyes. “You’re a woman who likes a thrill.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You were in the front section at the fight. Admit it, that was a thrill.” Micah was so close, he felt her breath graze his chin.
“One evening,” Gisele said emphatically. “That’s all. Party only. I’m not sleeping with you.”
Micah laughed. “Even though I’m the sexiest man you’ve seen in a while…maybe ever.”
“Who told you that?”
“I saw the look in your eyes.” Micah leaned down until his lips grazed hers. “I see the look in your eyes right now.”
Gisele didn’t even blink. “I thought we were going to dance.”
Micah would have preferred keeping her pressed up against him, smelling her sweet fragrance, and feeling her breath caress his skin. But he released her. He took her hand and opened the door to the hallway. A guy in jeans and a polo shirt glared at them. “Finished?”
“Not nearly,” Micah said, guiding Gisele back to the party. If the guy she’d been dancing with was a date, she didn’t mention it. Nor did he ask. It didn’t matter. She was his for the evening, which was all he cared about.
After that, who knew what would come of it? But he fully expected that the evening wouldn’t end until he said so.
When they went back out to the club, a slender woman with wavy blond hair ran up to them. “Where were you?” Then she looked up at Micah, and her eyes got big.
Gisele put her arm around the woman, clearly her friend. “Abby, meet Micah Rinaldi.”
“The fighter who…” Abby gawked at him, a reaction that he was used to.
“Pleasure to meet you, Abby.”
“Don’t leave without me,” Gisele said, giving her friend a knowing look. “We’re just going to dance for a while.”
“Sure.” Abby gazed at him, spellbound, so he took Gisele’s hand and headed toward the dance floor.
Dancing was good, offering plenty of opportunity to touch and hold. It wasn’t nearly what Micah had in mind, but it was a start. He’d met her, and she was clearly infatuated with him. He felt the electricity between them, knowing he wasn’t imaging it.
But Gisele held back. She didn’t fall all over him like he was accustomed to. That attracted him more than he cared to admit. As the evening progressed, he was convinced that something would happen between them. The feel of her in his arms, the way she swayed to the music to tease and taunt him, offered encouragement.
Not that he needed it. Micah was used to taking what he wanted, and he hadn’t heard any complaints. Women usually fought for his attention, so he assumed there was no problem. Gisele was playing hard to get, a female tactic intended to make her all the more desirable.
Well, it was working. Micah watched her hips move, her body undulate to the music, and was tempted to peel her fitted black jeans off without delay. On the other hand, there would be time for that. He’d enjoy the temptation, and relish the waiting for the delicious prize that would surely come later.
At the table, Micah introduced her to Luke, who gave her a charming grin. The other women seemed miffed at first over another woman cutting into their action. But Luke gave them his full attention, and they quickly turned all the admiration his way. Luke could handle it.
Micah drank more than he should have, but he didn’t care. Gisele kept pace fairly well, and the dancing got wilder, more seductive. She was driving him crazy. Would the party never end? Sometimes you get what you wish for. Just as he thought that, Gisele returned to the table. It was late and the crowd had thinned, but the festivities were likely to go on until the wee hours of the morning.
“It’s time for me to go.” Gisele waved her hand, flagging her friend a couple of tables over.
“What do you mean…go?”
“I spent the evening with you, and I enjoyed it. So thank you. Now it’s over.” Gisele didn’t smile, only looked up at him, with no sign that she expected a response.
Micah caught a glimpse of Abby walking over. He ignored her and took Gisele’s hand to drag her out of the club. When they were out on the sidewalk, the nightclub a mere roar behind the door, he stopped.
“The night isn’t over.”
Gisele stood back from him. “It is for me.”
Micah didn’t claim to understand women, although he normally knew what to expect. This made no sense. “Give me your phone number. I’ll call you.”
Gisele’s voice softened. “You don’t need it, Micah. Trust me, you don’t want it.”
It would have been the most natural thing to pull her into his arms. They’d danced for hours, holding and fondling. They were well past any awkward stage. But Gisele stiffened. “I was straight with you. I told you that you’re the wrong kind of guy for me.”
“You don’t know that.”
Gisele touched his cheek, and Micah’s insides turned to jelly. “I do know. You drink hard, play hard, fight hard, and you’re a risk taker.”
“You don’t like that?”
Gisele glanced at his bicep, bulging at the edge of his sleeve, then her gaze settled on his lips. When she looked at him again, her soul was bared to him. “I do like it. I like it too much,” she said. “That’s why I’m leaving.”
Abby stepped onto the sidewalk and hesitated, as if not sure she should interrupt. Gisele pulled free of Micah’s embrace and nodded to her friend. Without looking back, she said, “Goodbye, Micah.”
He watched her walk away, with an ache in his chest that he couldn’t explain. Micah wanted her back. But after a moment of watching her glide down the sidewalk, putting him behind her like yesterday’s news, he got pissed.
“Damn it,” he said, and yanked open the door to the club.
He headed for the table, prepared to unburden Luke from some of his duties. He’d take one of the women who partied with him, maybe two of them. The fact that his heart wasn’t in it infuriated him all the more. How had he let Gisele get to him like that? It wasn’t his style; he needed to get it together.