The Fight for Love (Contemporary Romance) (3 page)

***

“Again!”

Dalton’s trainer barked the word at him. Bouncing on his feet in the ring, Dalton jabbed once, twice at the punching pads his trainer was holding up, using so much force that he almost knocked the other man off his feet.

“Good!” his trainer exclaimed enthusiastically. And then, undeterred, “Again!”

Dalton punched hard and fast, always bouncing, staying quick on his feet. His speed coupled with his power had secured his position as one of the top fighters in his weight division. But in his industry he knew that you were only ever as good as your latest win. All it took was one defeat to send you falling from the top and Dalton had spent too long climbing up to where he was to ever take a step back.

“Again!”

His trainer was an ex-boxer, once famous during the prime of his career. Steve Rugen. He was a hardened man with enough visible battle scars to ensure that no one ever messed with him. He also had little patience. Most of the world adored Dalton but not Steve, he still saw him as the messed-up kid he’d discovered street fighting in the projects
over ten years ago.

Raising his fists and keeping his head low to his shoulders, Dalton threw some more punches.

“Come on, Dalton, harder!” Steve urged angrily. “Hit me like you mean it!”

Dalton punched the pads again and again, until his knuckles became sore beneath the thick boxing gloves he was wearing.

“Okay, take five,” Steve ordered abruptly.

Panting, Dalton stalked across the ring to the edge and reached for a much needed bottle of water which he hungrily drank from. Sweat was running in rivers down his back.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked after Dalton had finished rehydrating.

“Yeah,” Dalton shrugged. “Why do you ask?”

“I feel like you’re holding back.”

Dalton quickly shook his head. “Of course not.”

But he was holding back more than he’d like to admit. The stab wound on his chest was still sore despite the painkillers he’d washed down that morning with his protein smoothie. And his mind wasn’t as focused as it usually was. He found that his thoughts kept straying over to Lucie and what had happened in her apartment. He’d desperately wanted to stay, to get the chance to kiss Lucie again but he couldn’t risk it. Dalton didn’t do relationships, he never had. He was already fully committed to his fighting career. Most women he met he slept with a few times and then cast them aside for a newer model. But he felt that Lucie deserved better than that. She wasn’t the sort of girl you could just push aside.

“Hey!” His trainer was standing in front of him, angrily clicking his fingers in front of Dalton’s eyes. “Are you with me this morning or not?” Steve demanded contritely.

“I’m with you,” Dalton nodded.

“Because surely you don’t need me to remind you how important this next fight is?” Steve asked as he resumed his position holding up the punch pads in the center of the ring. He was shorter than Dalton but what he lacked in height he made up for in muscle. Even though he no longer competed he still trained and was in impressively good shape for a man his age. Over the years he’d become more than just a trainer to Dalton, he’d become a father figure.

“I know how important this next fight is,” Dalton promised him. “I was just…” his voice trailed off. He sensed that Steve wouldn’t approve of Dalton potentially considering dating a girl.

“Just what?” Steve stared at him expectantly.

“When you met Julie, how did you know she was the one?”

Steve had been married to his wife, Julie, for twenty blissful years although they’d never been blessed with children.

“Oh, so that’s what this is about,” Steve sighed and lowered his arms. “How many times, Dalton? You don’t need to be dating right now, you have to focus on your career!”

“I know, I know. I was just asking, that’s all.”

“I don’t know,” Steve shrugged, getting uncomfortable. He wasn’t the sort of man who enjoyed discussing his feelings. “I just knew,” he declared unhelpfully. “And in the end I gave it all up for her.”

“You gave up fighting?”

“Yeah,” Steve laughed a little. “I was well and truly whipped.”

“But you’re happy now, right, it was worth it?”

“Dalton, I didn’t have as much as you to give up. I was a good fighter, but I wasn’t great. When I met Julie my head had already left the ring, I was just waiting for my body to catch up. I don’t regret my decision, but if you walked away from all this tomorrow, wouldn’t you miss it?”

Dalton’s heart seized in his chest. Of course he’d miss it. Fighting was everything to him. It had been his ticket to a better life. Through fighting he’d found a family in Steve and Julie and his place in the world. He was rich and famous, all because of what he did in the ring. He needed fighting like he needed oxygen, without either he’d just cease to exist.

“I could never give this up,” Dalton admitted forcefully.

“And are you about to let it be taken from you?” Steve asked, firing him up

“No!” Dalton roared.

“Good! Then let’s go again! Now punch, hard!”

Lucie giggled girlishly to herself as she looked up the details of Dalton’s fight online. Each time his chiseled features came up on her computer screen she found herself blushing, remembering how it felt to have his lips pressed against hers. She was struggling to focus on the task at hand and make the notes she’d need for the fight.

Adrian had sent over the questions she was supposed to ask Dalton if she was able to catch him backstage, also what the paper expected from her coverage of the fight. Lucie had covered sports events before but never a fight.

“You’re really helping me out on this,” Adrian had fondly squeezed her shoulder as he passed her on his way out of work, leaving at five like a lucky few were able to. Lucie had turned and smiled at him, telling him it was nothing but she’d noticed the way he lingered behind her desk as if wanting to say something more. She hoped he hadn’t misinterpreted her offer for a sudden interest in him. People in the newspaper offices regularly speculated that he and Patricia were going through a tough time, but Lucie would never be interested in Adrian, married or not, he simply wasn’t her type. Dalton however…

He was pure perfection in the image she’d found of him. His muscles were flexed and he glared menacingly into the camera. He looked so fierce, so powerful. But Lucie knew what lurked beneath that hard exterior – the caring guy who’d come to a stranger’s assistance. He’d stepped in when she’d been in danger without a care for his own safety. That was the mark of a true hero and it just made Lucie want him even more.

The media pass for the fight was on her desk, brightly colored and attached to a long lanyard so that she could wear it around her neck. Lucie started to wonder what she could wear to the fight. She wanted to look both sophisticated and sexy which would be a hard combination of style to pull off at such an event. She wondered what Dalton would do when he saw her? Would he be surprised? Happy? Or annoyed? By showing up there would she look like some sort of deranged stalker?

Lucie began to feel cold. What if her plan wasn’t such a great one? What if Dalton had never actually wanted to see her again and then all of a sudden she was backstage at one of the biggest fights of his career?

“Urgh, what am I doing?” Lucie sighed and let her head fall into her hands. But she didn’t stay there long. Outside it was already growing dark and she wasn’t about to walk over to the parking garage quite as late as she had been doing.

“Color me impressed!” Deena chortled with glee as Lucie signed out while it was still light outside. “Never thought I’d see the day when you leave at a reasonable time!”

“Well,” Lucie shrugged and gave a light smile, “perhaps you made me see sense.”

“Whoever he is, I hope he’s worth it,” Deena said with a wink. Lucie laughed the comment off but her cheeks were burning as she pushed her way through the revolving main doors of the building.

***

Dalton prowled around his dressing room like a caged animal. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as his heart pounded with anticipation in his chest. He was ready for his fight. He was focused, he was prepared. But then he thought of her again. She entered his thoughts uninvited, his lips instantly tingling from the kiss they’d shared.

“Focus,” Dalton stared at his reflection in a nearby mirror. He was wearing his trademark bright red shorts which matched the shade of his gloves. This was his night, he was all lined up to win so long as he kept his focus.

The door to his dressing room opened and a man clutching a clipboard and wearing a headpiece peered inside. “They’re ready for you,” he told Dalton briskly.

Nodding, Dalton bounced on the spot and pounded his fists together. He was led away from his dressing room, down a long corridor towards the main arena. He could already hear the rumble of the eager crowd. It sounded like he was about to enter a giant beehive. He kept bouncing on the spot, keeping his energy levels high. The doors to the arena opened and he jogged out to thunderous applause. Light bulbs flashed madly around him like shooting stars as people eagerly took his picture.

Dalton had to suppress a grin when he heard the crowd chanting his name. He never smiled in the ring. He never showed any emotion. It was important to remain unreadable, it made his opponent more uneasy.

With one effortless motion Dalton swung himself up into the ring. This was where he truly belonged, where he felt most at home – with the mat beneath his feet and the gloves on his hands. Dalton had been born to be a fighter. He’d had to learn from a young age how to take a punch whenever he was unfortunate enough to have an encounter with his alcoholic father.

Life had been hard for Dalton. He was a true Cinderella story – he’d come up from absolutely nothing and made a name for himself and the media loved him for that. He’d started out as a tenacious underdog and now he was a champion.

The referee instructed the two fighters to stand in the center of the ring. Dalton bit down on the gum guard in his mouth, savoring its comforting plastic taste. He could do this. He pushed Lucie completely out of his mind and focused solely on what needed to be done. The bell for the first round rang out and Dalton flew into motion. He punched, dodged, jabbed and bounced his way around the ring, making his opponent appear sluggish and slow in comparison.

Dalton could smell the victory in the air. It smelled of copper and sweat as his opponent staggered back after a particularly brutal punch, blood spouting from his nose like an angry fountain. Dalton smacked his gloves together excitedly. Then he punched his opponent again.

***

Lucie had never been to a professional fight before. Sure, she’d seen them on television but she’d never actually attended one. She was surprised by how animated the crowd was. People were on their feet the second the fighters entered the ring, chanting and hollering. It was chaotic but also wildly exciting.

Lucie had to fight the urge to get swept up in the atmosphere. She wanted to just stand and scream Dalton’s name, cheering him on, but she had a job to do and so as hard as it was she needed to watch with an impartial eye.

When Dalton swaggered out into the ring Lucie felt her heart start to race. He moved with such power, such grace. Her fingers grazed her lips as she watched him, the lips that he had kissed.

Forcing her gaze off him Lucie looked down at her notebook and the few comments she’d hastily scribbled down in shorthand. She was sitting several rows back from the ring, close enough to get an impressive view of Dalton but not too close to risk being showered in blood or sweat.

As the first round commenced Lucie’s excitement turned to nervousness. She tensed as she watched each punch being thrown. Even over the roar of the crowd she could hear bone cracking beneath gloved fists. It was brutal to watch. Lucie ceased writing notes and just stared.

Dalton was a fearsome fighter. It was little wonder he’d felt confident enough to take on the guys who had attacked her when up against a professional fighter he made it all look so easy. His punches came hard and fast, a seemingly lethal combination. His opponent was sagging against the ropes, trying to recover when Dalton descended upon him again like a relentless tornado. All the other man in the blue shorts could do was try and remain upright.

And by the third round even that proved too much of a task He dropped heavily against the mat as the crowd went wild. People were booing and cheering in equal measure. The referee knelt beside the man in the blue and counted to ten while Dalton paced around the ring, not looking the least bit exhausted. Lucie suspected that if another opponent was led into the ring, as fresh and energized as he would be,
Dalton would still pulverize him.

The referee smacked his hand against the mat when the man in blue was unable to get up during the count. The match was over, Dalton had won. Raising his gloved hands to the heavens Dalton faced the crowd and let their waves of adoration wash over him.

Lucie stood up and clapped as the people around her people were whooping and whistling. She watched Dalton’s chestnut eyes scan the crowd and for one heart-rending second she was certain that he’d seen her. But then his gaze moved on and he sauntered over to a different part of the ring to face another part of his adoring crowd.