Below the Belt (9 page)

She was very aware of the two men watching her as she left Cooper’s office. One man was the most important person in her world—and she was a little disturbed to realize that Cooper was quickly moving into second place.

He’s your trainer. He’s supposed to be an important part of your life.

But like her grandfather, she’d never been a great liar, even when she was only lying to herself.

T
HREE HOURS LATER
,
Jamie walked out of the change room, her hair dripping water down her back from the shower.

Her grandfather had taken the bus home earlier. The heat always tired him out. She guessed he’d be napping by now with the curtains drawn and the fan on.

Across the gym, Cooper was working with one of the young fighters he’d taken on. Peter was a cocky bastard, but she could see why Cooper liked him. He was tough and determined, and with the right training and some luck he could go places.

She watched Cooper demonstrating a combination on the long bag. He made it look effortless, shifting his weight on his feet, his big arms bulging. It was a crying shame he’d had to retire.

Shouldering her bag, she turned for the door. Standing around watching Cooper was not a smart move. Not after the discussion they’d had in his office earlier.

Heat rose off the asphalt in shimmering waves as she made her way to her car. The door handle burned her fingers as she flipped it open. She dug her towel out of her bag to protect herself from the sting of the hot vinyl upholstery.

After she won her first decent purse and they’d moved apartments, she was getting a new car. Something made in this century. With air-conditioning.

Bracing herself for the stuffiness inside the car, she climbed behind the wheel and slid the key into the ignition. The engine churned for a second then made an ear-splitting metallic screech. Jamie jerked her hand away from the ignition.

She was no mechanic, but that sounded bad. Expensive bad.

She stared out the windshield for a long moment. If she juggled funds and maxed out her credit card, she could scrape together five hundred for repairs. Just. If it was any more than that, she was screwed.

“Shit.”

She shoved the door open in a vain attempt at creating a cross breeze and pulled out her cell phone. The automotive association’s helpline switched her over to a queue for service. She cranked the seat back a little. This was going to take some time.

After ten minutes, she got through to the call center, who promised a tow truck would be there, within two hours.

Great.

She shot a look toward the gym. It was cooler in there, and she could ask one of the guys on the counter to keep an eye on the parking lot for when the tow truck turned up.

She didn’t move.

She told herself it was because she didn’t want to risk missing the tow truck.

The truth was, she didn’t want Cooper to know she was having car trouble. She knew he’d offer to help, and she didn’t want to be cast in the role of damsel in distress. Maybe if they hadn’t had sex, she wouldn’t feel so strongly. But she did.

A little heat wouldn’t kill her. She cranked the seat all the way back, propped her feet on the dash and closed her eyes. Man, it was hot. Sweat ran down her back, and the air felt heavy in her lungs.

She’d been waiting nearly forty minutes when she heard the crunch of gravel as someone approached.

She knew it was Cooper without looking.

“Car trouble?”

“Working on my tan.”

She opened her eyes. He’d changed out of his gym gear, and he wore dark sunglasses, a navy linen shirt and a pair of three-quarter khaki cargo pants and flip-flops. His hair was wet from the shower.

She closed her eyes again. He was too attractive. It was unfair, and she was only human.

“I’ll give you a lift home,” he said.

“I need my car for work tomorrow.”

“Jamie, it’s five o’clock. No mechanic in the world is going to fix it overnight.”

She opened her eyes.

“A tow truck is on the way.”

“Jason can take care of it for you.”

“I can take care of it myself.”

Cooper’s lips moved as he said something with four letters under his breath.

“Fine. Have it your way,” he said.

“I usually do.”

He walked away. She spent the next ten minutes trying to think of anything other than the way he’d touched her last night. Sex had never been this complicated before.

A tap on the window made her start, and she glanced across to see Cooper standing on the passenger side of the car, a big vanilla ice-cream cone in hand. Frowning, she leaned across to unlock the door.

Cooper slid into the passenger seat.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Waiting with you.”

“Why?”

He licked the ice cream. “What’s wrong with the car?”

She rolled her eyes. Was he kidding?

“I think the fetzer valve needs replacing, and maybe it needs a new hornswoggle,” she said.

He turned his head toward her. Even with his sunglasses on, she knew he was giving her a dry look.

“How the hell would I know?” she said. “I’m not a mechanic. I turned the key, it made a horrible noise. I called the automotive association. End of story.”

“Sounds like the starter motor.” He took another taste. “You want some ice cream?” He offered her the cone.

“It’s not on my diet.”

“Yeah. Sorry. Gotta say, it’s one bonus about being retired.”

She glanced away as he licked the ice cream again. No man’s tongue should look that good.

“Is a starter motor expensive?” she asked.

“Depends. You could probably get a reconditioned one. They’re cheaper.”

She nodded, filing the information away.

“I suppose if I offer to lend you my car until yours is fixed, you’ll say no,” he asked.

“Depends. Are we talking about the Ferrari or the big black four-wheel-drive thing?”

“Which do you think?”

“Cool. I’ve always wanted to drive a Ferrari.”

He’d reached the cone and it crunched loudly as he bit into it.

“I’m not lending you the Ferrari,” he said.

“No shit.”

He snorted a laugh. “It’s an insurance thing, that’s all.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

He bit down on the last of the ice cream, then pushed his sunglasses on top of his head. He turned to face her, challenge in every line of his body.

“Okay, you can drive the Ferrari. I’ll take you back to my place and you can pick it up right now.”

Her lips curled into a reluctant smile. This man knew how to play hardball.

“It’d serve you right if I said yes.”

He shook his head, a smile on his lips. “Do you ever accept help from anyone?”

Jamie flashed to the last time she’d put her well-being in another person’s hands.

“Nope. How about you?”

He cranked his seat back and propped his feet on the sill of the open door.

“Did you hear Mayweather’s taking on Mosley in New York?” He slid his sunglasses back over his eyes.

“Yeah. Mayweather’s going to whip his ass,” she said.

The smell of his aftershave was heavy in the air. It reminded her of last night. She wriggled in her seat.

“You don’t have to wait with me,” she said. “Really.”

“I think Mosley’s got a chance. Did you see that fight he had with Cotto last year? He’s a nice fighter.”

Jamie turned her head to look at him. He wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t accepting his offer to borrow one of his cars.

A standoff.

She liked Cooper Fitzgerald. A lot.

Probably it was just as well that they were never going to have sex again. Liking someone she had great sex with could only lead to trouble.

“I saw the fight. Mosely was good. But Mayweather is in better form. And Ray’s better than both of them,” she said loyally.

“True. But time will prove that,” Cooper said confidently.

He waited with her until it started to get dark and the tow truck finally came. Nearly three hours, talking on and off, trading boxing anecdotes—her about her grandfather, him about his own career.

When she climbed up into the tow truck beside the driver, her car on the hoist behind them, Cooper gave her a stern look.

“If you need a lift tomorrow, call.”

“I won’t,” she said.

“Yeah, I know.”

He waited for the truck to pull onto the road before he turned back toward the gym. His shoulders looked big and broad silhouetted against the brightly lit facade.

“Can’t believe I just met Cooper Fitzgerald,” the driver said. “I saw that fight he had with Lennox Lewis. Man, he was good.”

Jamie turned her eyes to the road.

“Yeah, he’s the best.”

And she was starting to realize that sleeping with him might have been the stupidest thing she’d ever done.

T
WO WEEKS LATER
,
Cooper stood outside the gym’s ring and watched Mick and Jamie go head-to-head in a sparring round. They’d been going at each other for nearly ten minutes. Mick had put the pressure on a number of times, but not once had Jamie made the mistake of thinking with her feet.

If anything, Mick was the one feeling the pressure as Jamie peppered him with body shots, using the combinations they’d been drilling for the past weeks. She was very good. He knew in his gut she was a real contender, and that she had the fire and the will to go all the way.

It was time to start talking to people about her next fight.

She was still a virtual unknown, with only two fights to her name, but he was confident he could get her something with a reasonable standing and a decent purse.

She needed the money. She’d been closemouthed about how much it had cost to repair her car, and he’d seen the apartment she shared with her grandfather. She worked long hours, taking on extra shifts when she could, yet she still trained harder than half his guys. A decent purse would make a big difference in her life.

He could still remember the change each fight had made to his world as he’d won his way up the rankings. Decent food, decent clothes, the ability to stop mooching off Harry and his wife and find a place of his own. Soon Jamie would have a chance to experience the same sense of achievement.

The sooner he went into his office and started making calls the sooner she’d be on her way to the top.

A few of the guys watching gave hoots of approval as Jamie landed a good jab straight into Mick’s chin.

Cooper frowned and forced himself to face something he’d been avoiding for a few weeks now. He didn’t want to put Jamie in the ring to face another professional bout.

He didn’t want her to get hurt. Which was why it had been a really stupid idea to sleep with her, because now every time he looked at her he saw a woman first and a fighter second. That was something they could get away with in training, but once she was standing in the ring facing someone who wanted to break her, it was going to be a problem.

He
was going to be a problem. He didn’t want to watch her get bruised and battered. He wanted to protect her. Make her laugh. Take her to bed.

Last week he’d booked a fight for Ray—a big purse, with a hard-ass contender from the States. Ray would have to put on his A-game and even then be extra sharp if he was to win. But not once had Cooper second-guessed himself or feared for his fighter or wanted to talk Ray out of the bout.

Whereas he couldn’t even think about booking Jamie a fight without feeling as if he wanted to punch something.

He closed his eyes. He really was an idiot. Of all the women he’d encountered over all his years of living, why was Jamie Sawyer the only one who’d ever inspired these emotions in him? She was stubborn, proud, driven, defensive. She took on every day as though it was a battle, and she viewed everyone, except her grandfather, with prickly suspicion.

Cooper admired her. He understood the urge to fight and keep fighting, no matter what. It was what had driven him to climb out his bedroom window when he was twelve years old, aching and bruised from the most recent beating courtesy of his mother’s latest boyfriend. He’d decided then and there that life on his own could not be more dangerous and painful than life under his unreliable, drug-addicted mother’s roof. He’d been both right and wrong. Like Jamie, he’d had to learn how to look after himself. How to toughen up. How to protect himself. How to hit first to avoid being a victim.

His mother was dead now. She’d overdosed when he was twenty. He’d made sure she had a decent burial, even if he hadn’t attended the service himself. He’d figured he’d owed her that much and no more. Back then, his life had been all about what was owed, not what was given or offered freely. Over the years he’d unlearned some of those tough lessons that the street had taught him. Harry’s generosity, Cooper’s own growing maturity, the comfort and safety of success—all of those elements had combined to bring him to a point in his life where he’d looked at Jamie Sawyer being beaten around the ring and been unable to stand back and let it happen when he had the power to make a difference.

Now she was in his life, and every day he saw more of the woman she could be if she didn’t have such a ferocious fire burning in her belly. He liked that woman a lot, almost as much as he admired the warrior in her. Almost as much as he desired her strong, sexy body.

Cooper swore under his breath and retreated to his office. For a long moment he sat staring at his desktop, his head in his hands.

Then he dragged the phone toward himself and flicked open his address book. For an hour he made the rounds, talking to his connections, building up Jamie, putting out the feelers to see what was out there, what was possible. When he’d finished, he dropped the phone and pushed himself away from the desk.

Now they waited. It might take a while to hear back, maybe a day or two. Jamie would keep training, and he would keep telling himself that not only did she need a trainer more than a lover, but also she didn’t want the latter at all.

He was on his way out to the gym when the phone rang. He turned back to answer it.