Cage Match (5 page)

“No.” He tossed back the sheet and swung his legs out of bed—long, sculpted,

beautiful legs and big bare feet. Andreas reminded himself that he hadn‟t hired the man

for sex.

Jabez swayed for a moment as he stood upright, then straightened his shoulders

and his back and gave Andreas another of those angry, challenging stares. Andreas

refrained from offering his arm to lean on as he escorted him to the bathroom.

“My doctor will be here soon to check your wounds. Besides the cuts in your arm

and your side, you have some cracked ribs. But he‟s repaired everything and expects

you to make a full recovery quickly. Are you in much pain? I‟d prefer not to give you

another painkiller until he‟s seen you.”

“I‟m fine.” The man‟s slow steps and tense face belied his words. He closed the

bathroom door behind him.

Andreas stood there until he heard the splash of urine hitting the toilet, then

quickly moved away, giving him privacy. He was ashamed at the stab of lust he felt at

his mental image of Jabez with his cock in his hand, pouring a stream like a fountain.

Why had he really brought the fighter home? His offer of legitimate employment

was true. He did want to learn self-defense moves, but he couldn‟t pretend he didn‟t

have secret hopes of something else happening between them.

Jabez was handsome, sexy, and utterly desirable, but he was a human being, not a

sex toy. Andreas must keep his desire hidden while he built the other man‟s trust in

him. For the first time in perhaps his entire life, he couldn‟t have exactly what he

wanted when he wanted it.

When his guest emerged from the bathroom, Andreas motioned him to the chair

by the window. “Why don‟t you take in the view while you eat? It‟s a beautiful day.”

Jabez obediently shuffled across the room and lowered himself into the chair.

Andreas fetched the tray and brought it to him.

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Bonnie Dee

“I didn‟t know what you‟d want to eat, so there‟s a little of everything here,” he

said as he uncovered the dishes on the tray and sat down in another chair. Mrs. Gamble

had prepared eggs several different ways, pancakes, toast, and various breakfast meats,

but Andreas had cut up the fruit himself.

Jabez began to eat, moving methodically from plate to plate and consuming

everything on each one. Andreas watched in amazement. The array was intended to

give him choices, but the man consumed every last item without pausing or taking a

break to look out the window. In less than ten minutes he was finished. He set the tray

on the small table near him and gave a resounding belch.

“Still hungry? Do you want more?” Andreas could barely suppress the sarcasm in

his question.

Hearing his amusement, Jabez glanced at him with a slight softening of his lips

that was almost a smile. “No.” He looked out the window at the garden and the yard

beyond.

“My house is a little way outside the city,” Andreas said. “I used to have an

apartment in town but decided I needed to get away from the noise and create some

serenity. This is my little oasis. If the doctor says it‟s all right, you can sit out in the

garden for a while this afternoon.”

His new employee‟s silence made him feel the urge to talk more to fill the void,

but Andreas squelched the desire. Jabez wasn‟t going to speak if he kept babbling, so he

turned the tables and questioned him.

“Can you tell me a little bit about your life before you started fighting?” Andreas

studied his profile as Jabez stared out the window. His jaw was sharp and angular and

covered by a day‟s growth of stubble. Sexy hollows underlined his cheekbones, and the

jut of his brow shaded his brooding eyes. His lips were a straight line, but the lower one

had a lush fullness that prevented total severity.

“I‟m not trying to pry, but I‟d like to know a little more about you,” Andreas

prompted softly. “And you can ask me anything you want too. If we‟re going to work

together, we should get to know each other.”

Jabez turned his head slowly, almost regally, and stared into his eyes. “All right, I

have a question. Did you like the blowjob I gave you?”

There was so much barely suppressed anger in him Andreas could almost feel him

quivering with it. Reiterating that his visit had been an unasked for gift from a friend or

reminding Jabez he‟d chosen to service a client that night would not alleviate his fury.

Andreas guessed honesty was the one thing Jabez prized above everything.

“Yes, I did,” he admitted.

“Did you want more?”

“Yes.”

“Do you want it now?” Jabez pushed relentlessly, his voice husky. The very

timbre of it coupled with the suggestion started a slow burn in Andreas‟s belly.

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21

He hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “I won‟t deny I‟m attracted to you. It

would be pointless and clearly a lie, but I told you that‟s not what I hired you for and I

meant it. You‟re here to train me in martial arts. You don‟t have to do anything else.”

“What if I want to?” The low rumble fanned the flames heating Andreas‟s flesh.

He could feel his cheeks burning.

“That would be up to you.” He kept his tone as cool as his body was hot. “Right

now you should probably concentrate on healing.”

He tried to steer the conversation back to less volatile subjects. “Can you tell me

how you ended up in jail?”

There was another long pause before Jabez answered. “Armed robbery. When I

had a chance at a three-year fight contract instead of a ten-year prison term, I took it.”

The succinct answer only made Andreas want to ask more: What had he stolen?

How had he survived in the Brick Town slum? Who taught him to fight like a warrior?

What was his story? But pounding this wary man with questions would only make him

more guarded.

Jabez stretched and rose, seeming less stiff and unsteady this time. He stood by

the window and gazed down into the garden. “You live in this house alone?”

“My cook and housekeeper, Mrs. Gamble, lives here, but other than that, I‟m

alone.” Those final two words sat squat and ugly in the ensuing silence with a weightier

significance than he‟d meant to give them. But it was true. He was alone, had been

alone all his life. Friends like Timon, Rabi, and Simeon or the lovers Andreas

occasionally hooked up with couldn‟t fill the void.

Jabez snorted and shook his head. Andreas didn‟t know if it was the mention of

servants or of one man having all this space to himself or both that annoyed him. He

got up and joined him at the window, seeing the lush profusion of flower beds and

meandering walkways as though for the first time. The landscaping was luxuriant, and

the paths begged to be strolled. The gonging of wind chimes and the trickle of the

fountain were soothingly musical. His garden was a little bit of heaven on earth.

“I spend a lot more time here than I do in my office,” he confided. “There really

isn‟t much for me to do. Corporate figurehead only, you know?”

Son of the figurehead, if he was going to be completely honest. He was the heir to

the family fortune and about as out of the loop as it was possible to be.

“What do you do all day?” Without turning his head, Jabez glanced at him from

the corners of his eyes.

Andreas was ashamed to give him the answer. “Entertain myself. Go out with my

friends. Sports, sailing, galleries, parties, nightclubs, races.”

“Cage fights.”

“Yeah.” He smiled ruefully. “I have a hectic schedule of activities.”

Jabez looked out the window again, and Andreas felt dismissed. His life had never

before seemed so inconsequential.

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Bonnie Dee

“Who do you plan to fight against after I‟ve trained you?”

“I don‟t know. I guess I just want to have some self-defense techniques in case I‟m

ever, um, attacked or something.”

“Rich guy like you must have a bodyguard.”

“I did growing up, but when I moved out of my father‟s house, I ended that. I was

tired of having someone watching me all the time, and I don‟t think I‟m much of a

target as long as I keep a low profile.”

Jabez grunted. “Heir to the Fortias Corporation? You need a bodyguard. Maybe a

pack of them.”

There was a knock on the door, which kept Andreas from having to think of a

response. Dr. Ahim entered the room, talking on his phone. He ended transmission

with a tap of his finger on the earpiece and focused his attention on Andreas and Jabez.

“Patient‟s already out of bed, I see. Good.”

He briskly tended to Jabez, removing the bandages on his arm and around his

middle to find the cuts almost completely healed into clean pink seams. The miracle

rejuvenator, Flex-seal, had also been injected into Jabez‟s cracked ribs. A handheld

scanner revealed the bones were knitting together nicely.

“Amazing stuff, Flex-seal. Makes my work almost obsolete.” The doctor placed his

implements in his bag and snapped it shut. “I don‟t need to bandage this wound again.

The bruising should fade, and you‟ll be as good as new by tomorrow.

“You have a spa?” he asked Andreas. “I recommend a soak to ease his muscles

and a shower afterward”—he winked and grinned—“for the stench.”

With that, the doctor swept out of the room, leaving the two men alone again.

“Are you tired? Do you need to rest again?” Andreas asked, almost hoping Jabez

would say yes. He was at a loss whether his role was host, nurse, or employer, and he

needed a break from the warrior‟s silent intensity.

“No.”

The brief answer left him scrambling for what to do next. “All right then. If you

like, I‟ll show you the rest of the house.”

He went to the closet and the door slid open. “I ordered you some clothes until I

can take you shopping to choose your own. Hope something fits.”

Jabez had followed him across the room and stood in the doorway staring at the

shelves and drawers and racks for hanging clothes. The closet was mostly empty, but a

few shirts and trousers hung on hangers.

Andreas opened one of the drawers containing underwear. When Jabez continued

to stare at the open drawer, Andreas selected some boxers and a pair of socks and

handed them to him.

“There are casual clothes, T-shirts, sweatpants, and shorts in the other drawers,”

he suggested.

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“You bought me clothes.” Jabez smoothed his hand over the socks.

Andreas smiled. “Great as you look wearing only briefs, you need more clothes

than that.” He stooped and picked up one of the pairs of shoes he‟d chosen. “Do these

look too large?”

The other man frowned and glanced at the shoes. “They‟re fine.” His voice was

even rougher than usual, and Andreas understood the frown wasn‟t about the clothes

chosen, but that he‟d been given a gift.

Jabez caught sight of his reflection in the full-length mirror on the door of the

closet and stared, transfixed, as if he‟d never seen his reflection before. Maybe he

hadn‟t.

A minute slipped past before Andreas touched his arm. “Are you all right?”

“Yeah.”

“I‟ll leave you alone so you can get dressed.” He picked up the breakfast tray and

walked to the door, but glanced back to see Jabez still poised in front of the closet,

staring. There probably weren‟t a lot of mirrors or clean clothes in the cells at the Fight

Palace.

In the past two days, Andreas had often imagined what Jabez‟s life was like. Prior

to that, he‟d never even considered the conditions the fighters lived in. They were just

another form of entertainment to fill a boring afternoon or evening. It made him

ashamed to think of all the years he‟d wasted on finding frivolous ways to pass his

time, while people like Jabez struggled just to survive life.

Andreas was almost to the kitchen with the tray when his phone rang. He slipped

the earpiece in his ear. “Hey, Timon.”

“Where were you yesterday? I‟ve been trying to reach you. A group of us is going

sailing later today, racing Simeon‟s new yacht against the boat I won from you. It‟ll be

fun.” Timon talked loud, competing with music and voices in the background.

“Can‟t. I‟m busy.” Andreas wished he‟d kept his phone switched off.

“What‟s up? You sound like you have a secret.”

“No.” He didn‟t want to share his news. Timon would insist on coming over and

seeing his new acquisition, as if Jabez was a pedigreed dog he‟d purchased.

“Come on. Spill. Ooh, and tell me about that big, strapping hunk of sex the other

night. That must‟ve been—”

“Not now. I don‟t feel well. I think I‟m going to throw up.”

“Too much to drink last night? Where did you go, anyway?”

“Later. I have to hang up now.” Andreas cut off Timon‟s overly loud voice with a

flick of his finger. Blessed silence replaced his friend‟s voice in his ear.

He went into the kitchen and surrendered his tray to Mrs. Gamble. The