Lena

The three guys have been sparring for ten minutes before their coach, a man in his late thirties or early forties and built like a freight train, sidles over and drops into the seat beside me. He watches them for a while, neither of us speaking. I sense he wants to talk, but this isn't the kind of man you can hurry into anything, so I wait patiently, my eyes on "Dangerous" Devon Green and Jase as they circle each other. Lightning fast, Devon's foot flies out and knocks Jase's legs out from under him. He crashes to the ground, then rolls back to his knees, and is up again like it never happened.

"Fast recovery," I remark. "That was a tidy sweep."

The coach turns and I can feel him appraising me, but I don't look around. "You know kickboxing?" he asks.

Finally, I give him my attention. His face looks like it's seen a few knocks, but he's a good-looking guy if you like the commanding military type. His reddish hair is shorn short, his eyes a bluish green, and his jaw is square and strong. "Only the basics."

"Never been in a ring yourself?"

The idea is so ludicrous, I laugh. "No, and I have no intention of changing that."

"But you'll happily date fighters?" His voice drips with disdain.

My jaw drops. So much for waiting for him to open up. It seems he's here to question me. "Excuse me?"

He doesn't look away, his eyes boring into mine. "I've seen you with Karson Hayes. Is he your boyfriend? Did he send you here to do recon?"

I'm so stunned, I sputter, at a loss for words. After a few seconds, I get a hold of myself. "I'm here because Jase hired me." Even if he hadn't been enthusiastic about it. "I used to date Karson, but we broke up." A shiver passes over me, despite the warmth of the gym. "It wasn't pretty."

"Ah." There's a wealth of understanding in that one word. "Don't judge us all harshly because of Hayes. A few bad seeds don't make all MMA fighters bad. Jase is a good guy."

Is he reading my mind? How can he possibly know that my past with Karson would prejudice me against Jase? But despite his insight, I'm not sure I believe him. So I settle for making a noncommittal sound and refocusing on the octagon.

"What's your name?" His voice is soft in my ear, like he knows he's hit a sore spot.

"Lena." At the opposite end of the gym, Jase tags Devon on the chin and ducks a retaliatory strike. "And yours?"

"Seth."

"Is this your gym?"

"Yeah." He spreads his legs wider and rests his forearms on them. The position brings him closer to my height. "Do me a favor, Lena. Bear with Jase. He may come off as all ego and hot air, but he's a decent person and he didn't do what Erin says he did."

Relief filters through me, intense and baffling. I shouldn't care one way or the other if he's guilty. He's a job, that's all. But Seth is the first person to outright proclaim his innocence, and for some reason, I'm glad that someone has. He's certainly not doing it himself.

Frustration chases on the heels of my relief. "Maybe he should come out and say that, then."

Seth shrugs. "He's not the type. He'd rather just get on with business and wait for people to stop talking."

The men in the ring swap around, Devon subbing out and Gabe subbing in. Jase goes for Gabe's legs, thudding his shin into the other guy's thigh. Gabe responds with a straight punch, and then pulls him in to grapple. It's easy to see how Gabe got his nickname, The Mind-Reader. He seems to anticipate each move Jase makes and responds fluidly, without hesitation. Over Gabe's shoulder, my gaze locks with Jase's. His eyes are hot and furious. I hear my own intake of breath, and feel Seth staring at me, but my attention is on Jase's stunning gray eyes.

Until it's not.

His ass hits the floor. Gabe sweeps his feet out from under him while he's distracted. Devon whoops from the sideline as Jase picks himself up, red in the face, and sneaks a look over at me. His expression is so mortified, I can't help but laugh.

Devon cackles louder. "You hear that, brother? You took a beating because of her, and she's laughing. That's cold, man."

I cover my mouth to hide my smile, but it's too late. The mortification fades from his face, though the flush lingers, and slowly, he sends me a crooked, sexy-as-hell grin.