Fighter's Heart

Scene 23

Lena

I'm so proud of Jase. I know how nervous he was, but the crowd loved him. It doesn't hurt that he's easily the sexiest guy here, with his broad shoulders, smoldering eyes, and confident swagger.

"Hey, Lena, is that you?"

Glancing over my shoulder, I spot Travis, a linebacker for the new Vegas football team, who's also a former client of mine. Another former client, hockey star Brent Wallace, is standing beside him, both of them with drinks in hand. We're free to mingle until the dinner service, and Travis has a glint in his eye that says he wouldn't mind mingling with me in ways I'd rather not think about. He heads toward me, people scattering in his wake, and brings Brent with him.

I scan the room, but there's no way I can dodge them, so I resign myself to brushing off Travis's lame-ass pickup lines. In a lot of ways, he isn't a bad guy. There are many worse. But he's spoiled, self-centered, and never learned to take "no" for an answer. Especially where women are concerned.

"Nice to see you, gorgeous," he says, ducking to kiss my cheek, where he lingers long enough for me to grow uncomfortable. He gives me a once over, pausing on my chest. "You look great, as always. Do you know my buddy Brent?"

"Yes." I offer a hand to Brent, who shakes it. He's quieter than Travis, more the brooding type, and while he's easier to deal with, he unsettles me. "Good to see you."

"What are you doing here?" Travis asks, crowding closer. "Brent, why don't you get her a drink?"

I shake my head. "I'm fine, thanks." I'm not drinking anything either of these two give me. Not that I necessarily think they'd slip me something, I just don't fully trust them. They're accustomed to doing whatever they want, and having someone else clean up their mess. Someone like me.

"So, why are you here?" Travis persists, sipping his wine. "Did you decide you want in on some of the action yourself?"

"Hardly." I laugh. "You know this isn't my scene." I don't want to reveal too much personal information to them, but I'm getting the impression I should dissuade Travis's interest as quickly as possible. "I'm here with someone."

"With someone." He tests the words, as though they're unfamiliar. "Like a date?"

"No. Yes." I sigh. "He's a client."

If anything, the interest in his eyes intensifies. "I thought you liked to keep your personal life separate from work."

Generally, I do, so I can't argue the point. But then an arm is circling my waist and I'm being pulled into the shelter of a male body.

"Cutie pie." A masculine voice rumbles beside my ear, and I shiver. Jase. Thank God. "Introduce me to your friends."

Turning in his arms, my hands go to his chest. His jaw is tight, eyes narrowed on the two men across from me, who are staring, rapt. Smoothing a hand on Jase's cheek, I redirect his face down to me. Immediately, his jaw loosens and he smiles.

"You were great up there," I tell him, and after glancing around to make sure no one has a camera aimed our way, I stretch onto my tiptoes for a kiss. I only intend for it to be a brief touching of lips, but he secures me against him and ravages me so thoroughly I know I'll need to fix my lipstick. When he pulls away, there's a smear of red in the corner of his mouth and I wipe it off with my thumb. I want to be annoyed at him for kissing me like that in full view of everyone, but it's hard to be mad when my body is zinging with attraction and my hormones are going crazy.

"Thanks, baby." He turns back to Travis and Brent, wearing a cocky, challenging grin. "Sorry, remind me what your names are?"

To my utter surprise, Travis sticks his hand out, eyes wide with hero worship. "Travis McMillan, pro football player. It's such an honor to meet you. I saw your fight against Jarrod Hamilton live. So. Fucking. Savage."