A Deal With the Devil (16 page)
Left. Right. Left.
Right. Rey punched the suspended bag hard and fast, chasing it around the ring as it spun maniacally with every hit.
Stupid.
Bloody.
Fool.
The last punch was so intense it had him flying forward, missing his step.
Shit.
“Whoa.” Ted walked across the room. “Slow down, you’ve got it bad.”
“Leave it.” He wouldn’t talk to anyone. He was done talking. Done giving his heart away on a plate. His only focus from now on would be the business, as it should have been all along. “Ten more minutes then I’ll get ready for the Board meeting. We need to press on with the Macau development.”
Ted offered him a bottle of water. “Drink. You need to slow up, mate. You’ve been flat out for two weeks and you’re knackered.”
Rey refused the bottle and hauled in air. “Just getting my focus back.”
“Well before you do anything else, focus on this.” His friend shoved a glossy magazine into one of Rey’s fists. “Read.”
Rey looked at the headline:
The Casino King and I
“Who the hell thinks up this shit? I don’t need to read about how stupid I’ve been, I
know
that enough.” He glanced to the door. “Should we be expecting police? Lawyers? A phone call from Macau? Is that why you’re here?”
“Calm the hell down and listen.” Ted shook his head, shook the magazine open and read snippets:
An astute businessman with a strong work ethic, elevating the casino world to stratospheric success … guile and determination in spades (forgive the pun) … a dark past that he shares with no one. Dig a little and you find a violent history that fuelled his spirit and determination to succeed … an honourable man in a dishonourable world, a hint of unorthodox dealings
,
a maverick … scars not only on the outside … other secrets locked away too—a charity that helps homeless kids have a chance and a soft heart underneath that bold exterior that he shows only to those he trusts. There are few people who ever get that honour bestowed upon them. Who can blame him? Life dealt him a raw hand, and Rey Doyle plays to win. And no one deserves it more.
It was hardly gushing or, on the flip side, damning. But it was measured, fair. She talked about the Macau deal, how he was one to watch in the London billionaire’s top ten club. She wrote with humour and, if Rey was not mistaken, humility. He saw her through her words, her phrase choice, imagined her face, her deep blue eyes shimmering. He saw her angry and passionate. Naked.
“I’m going for a shower.” What Kate wrote was entirely up to her. He didn’t look at Ted, just began to walk towards the locker room.
Suddenly Ted’s annoying breathing was in his face. “You don’t care?”
“No.”
Grabbing his arm Ted brought him to a stop, hauled him against a wall. “You’ve got to stop this, man.”
“Stop what?” He would not hit him, despite the curl of his fist and the need for a rush, a release. Some damned relief. Rey determined that he would not hit Ted. The fighting was over. He’d made a solemn promise and he’d kept it.
“You haven’t slept for days, you spend hours and hours working out in here, you’re pushing yourself to the edge.”
Too late. He’d probably already gone over it, but he didn’t rightly care. “Is my work suffering? Is the business suffering in any way?”
“No.”
He shook Ted’s arm away. “Then leave me alone.”
But the bastard just stood there, as the one thing Rey had been hiding dawned on him. He could almost see the cogs in his old friend’s brain slotting into place. “You love her.”
The room was too damned small for them both to be here with opposing egos and well-matched rage. “It’s none of your business.”
“From where I’m standing, it is. You’re going to burn out and take everything with you. Don’t blow it. Go talk to her.”
“She lied to me.”
Ted’s eyes widened and he threw Rey a look of disdain. “Oh, and you’re lily white all of a sudden? She helped you out, she seemed pretty decent, so she must have had her reasons to lie. Ask her what they were.”
The thought of seeing her again made Rey’s chest hurt. But the thought of never seeing her again made it hurt more. “She was protecting her brother—you know, the one you allowed to fight. Underage, under every weight restriction … She wanted to fight for him, she wanted revenge. She said she believed love was worth fighting for.”
“Nice.” Ted shoved the magazine into Rey’s fist again. “She could have written a hell of a lot worse. She spared you some serious humiliation, damage to your reputation. You could see an apology there if you wanted to.”
“I don’t want to.”
Ted screwed the magazine under Rey’s nose. “Then look harder. Because I’m not prepared to see you go down. And if you’re so dumb stupid that you can’t see what’s right in front of you, then you will.”
“Meeting in five.” Rey slammed into the locker room. He did not want to look, but every which way he turned she was there—in his bedclothes, in the casino, in the Roxborough. On his motorbike. In his dreams. And yes, he loved her but … he loved the idea of her, not the real her. Surely?
But as he stood under the shower, cool water sluicing over his head, he could not forget the image of her shaking and raging at him in the car park. That was the woman he loved. That was the real her; that was Kate. The passionate honesty, the one who was willing to fight for him. For Rey Doyle. No one had ever done that.
He loved her and if he wasn’t mistaken she loved him. That had to be worth something, didn’t it?
That thought, that feeling, that hope roared through him as he flicked off the faucet and grabbed his towel.
Damn it all to hell, he had one last fight in him after all.
* * *
“It’s for you.”
Jake’s face was white as he knocked on Kate’s bedroom door. “You’d better be quick.”
“What’s the matter? Who is it? Not your school principal again?” Dragging on her old cardigan she jumped up from her bed, shoving her feet into moth-eaten slippers. This was getting old. One day her brother would be responsible for himself, grow up. But it didn’t look like it was happening any time soon. “What have you been doing?”
“It’s not about me.”
Throwing him a look that told him she would not be impressed if he’d done something else to piss his teachers off, she slumped through to the lounge. Her heart stopped. “Rey.”
So not what she was expecting. He was standing in her tiny lounge, hands behind his back, filling the space like Gulliver in Lilliput, his presence larger than his physicality. He didn’t smile. “Kate.”
“Rey.” At first she felt as if she was tumbling and tumbling in his heated gaze then she remembered the article. The lies. The tentative difference between love and hate, between heat and ice. She held on to the back of a chair, knuckles white, not daring to believe, to even think, about why he was here. And her damn stupid eye began to twitch. She put her hand to stop it, because there was nothing else that seemed to work. “What do you want?”
Jake’s voice, thin as a reed, behind her, “Er … is everything okay?”
She looked at Rey, asked him that silent question. He gave a small nod. “Don’t worry.”
Kate breathed out deeply. “It’s okay, I’ll be fine.”
“Okay.” Her brother hovered at the corridor entrance. “I’ll be … er … in my room if you need me.”
“What do you want?” Not daring to guess, to believe, she tried to control her voice but it came out tight and high. “Tea?”
“Your mother would be proud. So polite. But no. I’m not going to stay. In fact …” From behind his back he lifted a motorbike helmet. “You want to take that ride?”
Whoa. Unexpected all over again. The man was full of surprises. “And what? Find myself with concrete shoes and ‘swimming with da fishes’? No thanks. I’m okay here.”
“Well, I disagree.” He laughed, damn him, he laughed and he was beautiful. Even though he was probably still pissed at her, she was pissed at him too because, hell, he couldn’t see that she’d been doing the right thing.
She’d done the right thing.
Then he was stepping towards her and slipping his hands under her legs and picking her up into arms that felt thicker, stronger than before.
She kicked against empty space. “Put me down this minute.”
“And take a chance on you running away again? Not likely.” When he reached the road he sat her down on the Sturgis. “Listen, and listen good—”
“I’m sorry, before you say anything …”
He frowned. “Don’t interrupt, I’m on a roll here.” He sat opposite her as he had that first night … barely weeks ago, when she’d felt that same tumbling feeling and knew that she was falling deep and hard. “Kate, I love you.”
“You can’t. You don’t know me.”
“I know enough.” His thumb ran over the little muscle that had caused her so much trouble and he lent in to kiss that spot. Right there. She hoped the tell would disappear like magic, but it didn’t; it did flicker a little less, until she stopped thinking about it.
No, actually, she stopped thinking about it the moment his lips touched hers. After more kisses, then a few more, he smiled against her mouth, said, “I know you’re strong and passionate. You believe in good winning over evil. You believe in fighting the misuse of power. Oh, and you’re a damn fine kisser, and the sexiest woman I have ever known.”
“You have excellent taste.” She wanted to believe him so much. She wanted to believe they were destined to be. But she held back. “I’m tired of being the one who fights and fights and has no one in her corner, who faces impossible choices and divided loyalties. I don’t want to have to do it on my own. I want you to be in my corner. I want to know I can count on you. I want everything, Rey. I want your heart and your love. And a promise.”
“You have it … in spades.” He grinned.
“You read the article?”
“Of course. It was good. You’re a fine writer—although you did have an excellent subject.” That smile again. “You saw who I was, the real me. You didn’t see a thug, or the devil or a power-hungry waster. A useless brainless boxer who can only do one thing. You saw me. All of me. You taught me that love is a good thing, that it doesn’t have to be destructive, and that it’s worth fighting for.”
She held his hand, tight. “But I won’t watch you fight. I won’t sit by your intensive care bed after some stupid fight that almost kills you.”
“Hey, the best rush I’ve ever had was being with you. I can’t promise that I won’t want to fight some days. I can’t promise that there won’t be times when I push myself hard just to get some relief. But I’m not stepping into a ring again. Illicit or otherwise.”
“And if you do—”
“I won’t. You have to trust me.
Trust me.
” He put his hand inside his jacket pocket and pulled out a small box. “I have something for you. Thought it might convince you of my commitment to you.”
“Oh, my God. Is this—?” Her heart felt as if it was floating from her chest. His promise and … Diamonds. A white gold ring with a huge solitaire. “Oh, it’s beautiful. It’s more than that … it’s perfect. And very, very big. Are you sure?” Her throat closed over with thick joyous emotion.
He kissed her cheek. “I figured that if I had all that money and power at my disposal I should put it to some use. I know this is rushing things. Take as long as you want to answer, but make sure that answer is yes.”
“Yes, yes, of course yes. I love you, Rey Doyle with every scrap of breath I have left in these stuttering lungs.” It was definitely getting hard to breathe. “But you don’t know me, not really.”
His eyebrows raised. “I think I do, Kate Wilkinson. And I’m damned sure I love you.”
“I love you too, Rey Doyle, Mr Casino King.” Then she did allow herself to fall into his arms, to feel his heat around her, to lose herself in his kiss. So perfect.
Finally he pulled away. “Now, where shall we go? Anywhere in the world. I’ll take you.”
“I don’t care, so long as I’m with you. Forever.”
“Forever it is.” He pulled on his helmet, climbed onto the bike the right way round, gunned the throttle, and that was exactly where they headed. To forever.
The End
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A Deal with the Devil
, you’ll love the new International Bad Boy stories!
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by Carol Marinelli
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