The Fight for Love (Contemporary Romance) (2 page)

Dalton tensed. He’d responded so quickly to the attack that he hadn’t considered that he might be recognized. Clenching his jaw, he tried to remain casual. But as the beautiful woman gazed at him he could feel his cheeks starting to burn.

“Oh my God, you are, aren’t you? You’re Dalton Hughes?” she gushed, her eyes lighting up in a magical way.

“Yes,” Dalton gave a stiff nod. “I am.”

“Wow, I can’t believe it,” the woman lifted a hand to her glossed lips, the fear now completely gone from her features and replaced with girlish admiration which highlighted her natural beauty.

“You’re like…the hottest fighter right now,” she declared. Then she seemed to re-evaluate her words as she looked down in embarrassment.

“I mean hot as in…on a winning streak,” she mumbled nervously. “Although, you are obviously hot in the other sense of the word.”

Dalton couldn’t help but smile. Her awkwardness was endearing.

“I…um,” she tossed her hair over her shoulder and regained some of her composure. “I work for The Standard, that’s how I recognized you. I’m a journalist.”

The smile fell from Dalton’s lips. A journalist. That was the last thing he needed. What if his gallant deed was tomorrow’s front-page news? He didn’t need press attention, especially when he had a big fight coming up that he needed to concentrate on.

“This,” the woman’s hand fluttered between them, “is obviously off the record.”

Dalton relaxed a little.

“I’m Lucie Walters,” she extended a petite hand in his direction. Dalton took it and amicably shook it. Her skin was blissfully soft against his palm. But as he shook her hand the wound in his side twisted, sending searing pain through his body. Grimacing, he released her hand and staggered back.

“We really need to get you to the hospital,” Lucie was talking briskly, removing her keys from her purse and purposefully approaching her car. “Get in, I’ll drive you.”

She was clearly a woman who was used to giving orders. But Dalton didn’t obey. He remained rooted to the spot, wincing in agony.

“I’m not messing around here,” Lucie declared sternly. “That’s much more than a scratch and I’m taking you to the hospital.”

“No!” Dalton blurted desperately. “I can’t! And really, it is just a scratch.” But he could feel the blood oozing against his side.

“Why can’t you go to the hospital?” Lucie asked, her hands on her hips.

“I can’t risk the negative press,” he shot her a guilty look. Pursing her lips, she frowned at him.

“I’ve got a huge fight two nights from now,” Dalton explained. “A stint in the hospital would be all the leverage my opponent would need to trash talk from here to the moon. My image can’t take that, not at such a crucial point in my career.”

He watched her deliberate over what he was telling her. Finally she angled her keys towards her car and pressed a button which made the vehicle give a soft click as the doors remotely opened.

“If you won’t go to the hospital you’ll at least come over
to my place so that I can clean your wound for you. Deal?”

To this Dalton had no objections. He nodded and climbed into the passenger side of her car.

***

Lucie told herself she was being rational and doing the right thing. Just because she was taking this insanely hot guy back to her apartment it didn’t mean that anything had to happen between them. She was just helping him out after he’d saved her. It was all just a good deed.

Yet she could barely concentrate on the road as she drove the familiar route back through the city towards her apartment. He was so close to her, sat just a few inches away. If she wanted to, she could reach out and touch him.

“So,” Lucie cleared her throat, needing to make conversation in order to stop her mind wandering to places it shouldn’t go. “What were you doing in the parking garage so late at night?”

“I always jog through the city at night,” Dalton replied in his deep, dreamy voice. “I find it calming. Anyway, I spotted you walking towards the garage.”

Lucie felt her cheeks burn. He’d spotted her prior to the attack. Had he been watching her? Had he been eyeing her? The thought made her heart race.

“I saw those two guys follow you in and they looked like trouble, so I jogged after them to check it out.”

“Well, I’m certainly glad you were there,” Lucie admitted. Her hands tightened against the wheel as she considered how her night might have ended had Dalton Hughes not been jogging by at just the right time.

“So you live in the city?” Dalton asked brightly, though he kept one hand clamped against his chest and his wound.

“On the outskirts,” Lucie replied as she pulled off the freeway and entered her neighborhood. She didn’t need to ask where Dalton lived as like most of the world she already knew. He had a penthouse in the heart of the city complete with breathtaking views and a limitless supply of models who came to visit and then hung on his arm at movie premieres and celebrity parties. Dalton Hughes was just as impressive a playboy as he was a fighter. It only added to his charm.

Lucie pulled up outside a three-story building which had seen better days. Even the dark of the night couldn’t conceal the cracked walls and faded paint.

“This is me.” Lucie felt embarrassed as she glanced up at the building. It was a far cry from a penthouse.

“Looks nice,” Dalton commented kindly. They stepped out and Lucie locked up her car. The cool evening air enveloped them as they approached the steps and Lucie used another set of keys to enter the modest lobby.

Dalton began approaching the silver doors of the elevator which was located just beside the unmanned reception desk. In the three years Lucie had lived there she’d never once seen a receptionist at the desk. She wondered why it was even there as it served no function.

“Oh, the elevator is out,” Lucie explained apologetically as she pushed open a door marked “Stairs.”

“That sucks,” Dalton said as he followed her into the stairwell. “How long has it been out?”

“Three years,” Lucie explained as they began ascending the concrete stairs. “Maybe longer but I wouldn’t know.”

She unlocked her apartment and prayed that Dalton wouldn’t be put out by her modest dwellings. It was an open plan space with the living area and the kitchen all in one room. Two doors led off to the bathroom and bedroom respectively.

Lucie had done her best to make the apartment feel homey. She’d put up purple drapes and matching cushions and covered the walls in pictures of her and her friends from back home, back in the countryside where the skies were always an endless see of blue. Friends she didn’t get to see nearly as often as she’d like.

“This is nice,” Dalton declared without a trace of irony. He dropped down on the sofa as Lucie hurried over to the kitchen area.

“I’ve got a first-aid kit somewhere,” she called over to him. After rummaging through several cupboards she found it. With the green plastic case clutched to her chest she approached Dalton on the sofa.

“Okay,” she said gently, “let me take a look.”

With one swift movement Dalton removed his hoodie to reveal his bare chest. He was built like an Adonis. Rock-hard abs glistened beneath the lights in Lucie’s apartment. For a moment she struggled to focus. But then her eyes were drawn to the deep red line where the blade had cut him. She pulled bandages from the first-aid kit along with sterilized wipes.

“This might sting a little,” she warned as she leaned towards his chest and pressed a wipe across the wound. She saw Dalton tense but he remained silent. Lucie tried not to swoon at how brave he was being.

“I really think it needs stitches,” Lucie told him as she began applying the bandages. But she was relieved that the cut wasn’t bleeding nearly as much as she’d feared it would be.

“I’ll be fine,” Dalton told her smoothly, “I’ve survived worse.”

And Lucie knew that he had. He’d famously broken bones during a fight and carried on to claim victory. It was like he was made from steel.

“I really can’t thank you enough for tonight,” Lucie said sincerely, her hand still resting on his chest.

“It was no problem, really,” Dalton told her humbly. “I couldn’t ignore a beautiful woman in distress.”

“You think I’m beautiful?” Lucie asked, feeling as nervous and awkward as a teenager. Dalton smiled at her, revealing dimples in his cheeks. Then he reached for her cheek and stroked his fingertips down it.

“I think you’re stunningly beautiful,” he confirmed in his velvet-laced voice. “Why do you think I noticed you while I was out jogging?”

Lucie held her breath. She couldn’t believe that Dalton Hughes thought she was beautiful. As he drew his lips towards her the whole world stilled. Lucie remembered wanting to capture everything about the moment – the way he smelled, the lighting in the room. She sensed it was one of those crucial moments she’d want to revisit time and again.

His lips met hers and Lucie gasped. She expected the kiss to be rough and hard but for a man who fought for a living he was irresistibly tender. His lips expertly massaged her own before he carefully slid in his tongue. It pressed against Lucie’s and her entire body turned to melted butter. It was the most sensual, amazing kiss of her life and she hoped it would never end.

As they kissed she dared to wonder if they might end up in the bedroom. Dalton’s hands were now on her lower back, drawing her closer to him. Lucie gave herself completely to this kiss. But before the heat had chance to intensify Dalton pulled back. Lucie’s lips were still tingling and she wished that he hadn’t stopped.

“I should probably,” he nervously cleared his throat, “get going.”

Lucie wanted to tell him not to leave, to ask him to stay. But she remembered all the beautiful models he was always being photographed with – stunning women with legs that went on for days. Next to them Lucie was short and plain, there was no way Dalton Hughes would be interested in her, not when he had the most beautiful women in the world on speed dial.

The kiss had probably just been a result of the drama of the evening. They’d both been shaken up and vulnerable. It was nothing. Then why was Lucie’s heart racing as if she was desperate for it to be something?

“Is your…” she nodded towards his bandages. “Are you feeling better?”

“It’s stinging a lot less,” Dalton smiled. “You must have magic hands.”

Lucie blushed. If he was going to leave why was he still flirting with her? Did he not want to leave?

“I’m training first thing in the morning,” Dalton explained as he pulled his hoodie back on.

Lucie nodded, wondering why he was making excuses about why he had to leave. Did he want to stay? Should she just ask him?

“Thank you,” Lucie said as she followed him to the door, regretting every step she took towards it. She wished they’d just stayed on the sofa kissing, lost to one another.

“For everything,” she added, cheeks burning. “You totally saved me back there tonight.”

“I did what any guy would have done,” Dalton shrugged modestly.

“No,” Lucie shook her head at him, “you didn’t. Most guys would have walked away.”

“Well, not me.”

Dalton lingered in the doorway. Was he going to ask to come back in? He seemed to be battling with his own indecision. Finally he leaned towards Lucie and brushed his lips upon her cheek.

“Thanks for patching me up, Lucie Walters.” The way he said her name sent shivers down her spine. She wanted to only ever hear her name said that way – in Dalton’s deep, velvety voice.

“Anytime,” she gave him her most flirtatious smile, hoping it would be enough to encourage him to come back inside. But it wasn’t. He began to slink off down the corridor. Despite his size and strength he moved with grace, like a panther. Lucie watched him leave, waiting for her heart to start beating more calmly in her chest. When he entered the stairwell she stepped back into her apartment and closed the door, her fingers fluttering up to her still tingling lips. She couldn’t believe that she’d just kissed Dalton Hughes.

The next day Lucie couldn’t focus at work. She kept thinking about Dalton and how amazing it had felt to kiss him. Thoughts of him had even invaded her dreams the previous night. It was like he was a drug and now that he was in her system she couldn’t go without him.

“Lucie!” Adrian, her colleague, snapped angrily from a nearby desk. Lucie pushed her hair out of her eyes, blushing as she realized that she must have been blatantly daydreaming.

“I asked if that article was ready yet,” Adrian repeated with disdain.

Adrian Roberts was ten years older than Lucie and a senior reporter with the newspaper. When she first started working at The Standard he’d been quite obvious in his affection towards her and had asked her out numerous times. Each time Lucie politely declined. Adrian was now married to Patricia who worked in human resources and they had two sons together, but that didn’t stop him harboring negative feelings of hurt towards Lucie.

“Umm,” Lucie glanced at her computer screen. All morning she’d managed to type two sentences. This wasn’t like her. She was normally so productive.

“I just need another hour on it,” she admitted lamely.

“You’re slacking this morning, Lucie,” Adrian declared angrily. When she’d first met him his hairline was receding and now he was just completely bald which made the abrupt line of his chin seem even more unflattering. He wasn’t handsome but he could look presentable if he took a bit more care with his appearance. He had the beginnings of a paunch and always looked exhausted.

“I’m sorry,” Lucie insisted, briskly typing away. “I’ll get it done as soon as I can.” She wished Adrian would learn to mind his own business instead of always interfering with hers.

“You knew I needed it sooner rather than later since I’ve got to cover that fight tomorrow night.” Adrian groaned as he said the words and massaged his neck.

“I don’t even want to go,” he added with a defeated sigh.

“Fight?” Lucie ceased typing and gazed excitedly at her colleague.

“Yeah, the Dalton Hughes fight. Don’t pretend you don’t know, it’s all anyone has been talking about for the last two weeks.”

“And you’re what, covering it?”

“Yeah,” Adrian rolled his eyes.

“Do you get a backstage pass?”

“Yes, Lucie,” Adrian replied tersely, “I get my media pass. Why are you asking so many questions? Damn, I could certainly do without it this week.”

Adrian gazed sadly at his computer screen. “Johnson has been up playing again
 
in the night
and Matthew’s asthma has gotten worse lately.”

“Why don’t you let me cover the event for you?” she suggested brightly.

Lucie could see the exhaustion in Adrian’s eyes. After working all day at the paper the last thing he needed was an evening at a busy fight event when his home life was already draining enough. But that wasn’t why Lucie made the offer that she did. She was clinging to the media pass and the prospect of seeing Dalton again even if it was in a professional capacity.

“Really?” Adrian straightened in surprise. “I wouldn’t…” he cleared his throat nervously, “I wouldn’t have thought it was your kind of thing. You rarely cover sporting events. That’s why Carol put me on it.”

“Huh, I’m kind of into that stuff,” Lucie shrugged nonchalantly, hoping Adrian wouldn’t quiz her on the world of professional fighting about which she actually knew very little.

“Don’t you have some big date lined up for the evening?” Adrian wondered bitterly.

Lucie smiled sweetly, hating the fact that Adrian still hung on to his bitterness towards her.

“Nope, no date lined up.”

“So what, you’re single?” Adrian asked, looking surprised.

“You say that like you care,” Lucie deadpanned.

“No…I just,” Adrian was turning bright red, regretting having asked the question. “If you’re happy to cover the fight then that’s great, I’ll owe you.”

Lucie smiled in acknowledgement.

“It’s no problem,” she told him kindly. When in reality it was she who’d now owe him one as Adrian had just given her the perfect excuse to run into Dalton again and Lucie couldn’t wait.