Harlequin Superromance March 2014 - Bundle 2 of 2: The Secrets of Her Past\A Real Live Hero\In Her Corner (68 page)

Dammit, she was not crying over a
mulherengo estúpido!

She put the receiver back onto the cradle and ran for the locker room. She didn't want anyone to see how shocked she was. How could she be surprised? This was Kyle. This was...

She opened her locker and started emptying it as Liz exited the bathroom stall. Liz's eyes widened. “What is it? What's happened?”

“I have to go.” She zipped up her gym bag quickly. Her emotions were bloating inside her, pushing against her skin, threatening to burst her open.

“Why?”

Heat seared her cheeks and brow, crawling down her neck and across her chest like a rash. She couldn't admit her foolishness. The receptionist had tried to warn her about Kyle. Everyone had. Not in so many words, but with furtive looks and gentle suggestions, playful jabs and scandalous stories. But Bella hadn't listened to anyone. Kyle was a playboy through and through. She couldn't expect a weekend of sex with him to change that.

And she shouldn't have been so naive to believe her feelings for him weren't deeper than she'd made them out to be.

“Where are you going? Bella...”

“Something's come up. I have to leave. I have to go...” Where did she have to go? All she knew right now was that she couldn't stay there another minute.

Yes, run away,
her grandfather's voice mocked her. The parting shot before she'd left São Paulo.
That is why you will fail. Why you will always fail. You have the weak heart of a woman.

Shame and rage collided inside her chest. She inhaled deeply. She was better than this. Better than that
filho de uma cadela.

She pushed out of the locker room as Kyle hung up, a sly smile curving those sensuous lips. Lips that had worshipped her. Lips that had whispered soft, sexy words in her ear and trailed across her skin.

“Cachorro!”
She flung at him, her cool facade cracking wide-open. She'd never let herself feel anger in the cage. She had a tight rein on her temper when it came to fighting. For a moment she was outside of herself, witnessing the wild, potent jealousy seething from her. But the pot had boiled over, and the gushing of emotions did not subside with the outburst. “Who was that? Who is this Bree, exactly?”

Kyle's smile froze. “She's an old friend.”

“‘Old friend'? You expect me to believe you'd invite her for a weekend of...of
breakfast
and hotel stays and—”

“You were listening to my phone call?” His gaze sharpened and flickered over her shoulder. She hadn't realized Wayne and Liz were right behind her, maybe trying to talk her down. But she wasn't about to let them.

“Yeah, I listened. And good thing. What is this to you, huh? This thing between us—”

He pointed. “Office. Now.”

Stupidly, she followed him, unable to deny his simple command. What had he turned her into? A hapless, biddable woman? The woman her family expected her to be? Her heart twisted like a feral cat trying to tear its way out of her rib cage.

They marched into the office. He slammed the door shut and whirled on her. “How dare you listen in on my private conversation.”

“If I didn't, I wouldn't know what kind of man you really were. What the hell were you planning with that...that woman?” She didn't want specifics—her imagination was fertile enough. What she'd really meant to ask was,
What are you planning to do with me?

“It's none of your business,” he said irately. “Bree is an old friend. We've had a previous relationship, but I don't see why that should bother you.”

Her heart tore in half.
Cristo.
She didn't think heartbreak could be such an intense physical hurt. She sank into a chair and breathed through the shock.

Kyle perched against the edge of the desk. He didn't go to her or ask if she was all right. He only sighed. “I'm sorry, but what we did— What we had didn't mean more than what it was.” He forked his fingers through his hair. “We had fun, okay?”

“No.” She shook her head. “It was not just
fun.
Honestly, Kyle, that's what I wanted it to be at first—tried to convince myself that's all it was. Fun.” The word was like mud in her mouth. “But we...we shared something. Not the kind of thing you'd share with casual partners.
Don't you see?” Her voice pitched down a notch. “All the women and sleeplessness... I didn't cure you, Kyle. And I'm not a notch on your belt. I wouldn't have slept with you if I thought that's all I would be.” And she realized it was the truth. She would never have pursued Kyle while she had a fight to train for. She wouldn't have involved herself if she didn't care. She was so stupid to have believed otherwise. “You can't go chasing women trying to make yourself feel better. You need to talk to someone. You need help.”

“Help from who? You?” Deep lines carved his face. “You don't get to hang on to me like some broken toy you can fix. I'm fine, okay? And I appreciate what you helped me through, but it's done now.”

Tears burned in the backs of her eyes. “You think I slept with you just to help you?” Maybe that was partially true—and wasn't that what she was telling herself all along?—but she was too hurt to give him that.

“We both know it was a one-off. Anyhow, I don't need
you
to help me.” He ran his hands over his face. “Maybe you thought there was something more between us, but there wasn't. I'm sorry, Bella, but I only slept with you because you needed to relax.”

A bitter, dusty taste flooded her mouth.
“Excuse me?”

“You weren't hitting as hard as you normally do. You needed to let loose.” The corner of his mouth jerked up. “I was doing you a favor.”

Bella's vision dimmed. Her blood pushed up and outward.

She couldn't get another word out. She grabbed the nearest heavy object.

* * *

“H
OW
DARE
YOU
.”

Her hand rested on the tape dispenser, knuckles white. Kyle's heart hammered in his chest, and he found himself sweating head to toe and backing up into the filing cabinets behind him. She hadn't thrown a punch or even raised her voice, but he was shaking violently.

Because of what she could do. What she would do. What she was capable of.

“I don't need you to do me any favors, you...” She lapsed into a long string of Portuguese, the consonants cutting, spittle flying from her mouth as she gathered steam. Her hand flexed over the tape dispenser, as if she might grind it into the tabletop.

The moment she lifted it, Kyle shot out from behind the shelter of his desk. He was not hiding from her, dammit. In two long strides, he grabbed her by the shoulders. The tape dispenser clattered to the ground. He forced her away from any other heavy objects she might want to lob at him.

“Listen to me.” When she flinched, he clung tighter. “Listen to me!” he shouted again.

Bella thrashed in his hold. The more she struggled, the more he tried to contain her, hold her down. Fat tears leaked from her eyes, but she wasn't crying. Not by a long shot.

Bile rose in Kyle's throat. Not in guilt, he told himself. No, the moment Bella had confronted him, tried to make a claim to him...that was the moment he knew he'd made a mistake.

“Let go of me.”

Her plea, broken and rusty voiced, undid him. He released her and took two steps back, hands raised, ready to defend himself.

“I'm sorry, Bella.” The words spilled from him in harsh gasps. “I never meant to hurt you. This was for your own good. And mine, too. I won't lie and say I didn't do it for my own selfish reasons. When you've calmed down you'll realize it, too.” Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Bella balled her fists, and he thought for a blinding moment that she was going to punch herself the way Karla had—smug self-righteousness flashing across her face an instant before the hit connected. A wave of nausea struck him and he leaned heavily to one side.

She watched him, stricken. “You're lying. To me and to yourself.” She pushed strands of hair out of her face, smearing the wetness on her cheeks into her hairline.

“I didn't want anything more than what we had. I'm not into you that way.” Bella grew very still. Kyle backed away another step. “We had fun.”

Every time he said the word
fun,
another needle stabbed his conscience. He was hurting her. He could see it plainly. But he couldn't stop himself. “I made a mistake,” he went on ruthlessly. “
We
made a mistake. Obviously.”

“Obviously.” Her mottled complexion paled. She spun around and wrenched the door open. The windowpanes and the blinds rattled as the door slammed against the thin wall, and she barreled out.

A half-dozen pairs of eyes stared through the open portal. Stiffly, Kyle went to the door and gently shut it again. Carefully, he pulled all the blinds closed.

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

H
ADRIAN
'
S
PERSONAL
GYM
wasn't much to look at. A few mats, some free weights, a couple of yoga balls and some other cheap equipment made up the majority of his gear. The only concession to the Spartan facility was the heavy bag chained to the reinforced ceiling beam. He had access to all the official UFF facilities, of course, but when it came to his own workout, he preferred to be alone and to use what was at hand. It didn't feel right to him, somehow, to have a fully-equipped home gym when he so rarely used it.

Well, it was paying off now. In the past couple of weeks since he'd kicked Quinn out, he'd worked a deep groove into the heavy bag, and the plaster on the ceiling was starting to crack. He knew he should probably stop and get it fixed before the whole house came crashing down on his head. At the same time, he wasn't sure he'd care if it did.

He sneezed as the plaster dust tickled his nose, then spit to get rid of the chalky texture on his lips.

“If you had someone spotting you and holding that bag, you wouldn't have to worry so much about the ceiling.” Mrs. Hutzenbiler's voice echoed through the room as she approached on silent sneakers. Hadrian paused as she rolled up her sleeves and grasped the bottom of the sand-filled sack, then braced her weight against it. “Go ahead.”

Hadrian didn't argue with her. She might be closing in on sixty-three, but he had no doubt his P.A. could kick his butt if she wanted to. She could scare osteoporosis away with one mean look.

His fists sank into the leather with a satisfying thud. Mrs. H. didn't even flinch. “I got a call from Joel Khalib,” she said in an even tone. “He wanted to update us on a situation regarding Bella Fiore.”

His lungs deflated and he stopped. “Dear God. Please don't tell me—”

“Bella's fine. She's still in for the fight, and so is Ayumi.”

Thank God.
“So, what's the deal?”

“Don't let your heart rate go down,” she ordered. Obediently, he resumed his striking rhythm. “Bella left Payette's.”

“What?” His punch slipped and his knuckles cracked loudly. He hissed and shook out his hand.

“She had some kind of falling-out with Kyle Peters and left the gym. A lover's spat, apparently. There were quite a few witnesses, but I'm only getting this story fourth or fifth hand.”

“Freaking Kyle Peters. I swear that guy trips and ends up dick deep in—” He caught Mrs. H.'s unimpressed look and cut himself off. “This better not end up costing me another settlement.”

“Maybe Mr. Peters isn't the man you want representing your gym,” she said coolly.

Hadrian chewed the inside of his cheek. Maybe Mrs. H. was right.

He gave the bag another couple of frustrated hits, then stopped. He'd hurt his hand. “So Bella's not at Payette's. Where is she?” He mopped his face with a towel and let out a deep breath.

“Joel's not saying. He said she doesn't want anyone disturbing her while she trains.”

“We have more media events lined up. She'd better come to those.”

“Give her some time, Hadrian. I'm sure she'll be professional about it, you'll see.”

“She never should've gotten involved with Peters in the first place.” He took a swig of tepid water from his bottle to wash away the bitter taste in his mouth. “I even warned him off, but I knew the moment I saw them together at the gala, something was going to happen. I'd like to skin him alive.”

“I don't think we should be assigning blame when we don't know the whole story.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “That's uncharacteristic of you, Mrs. H. I was under the impression you didn't like Peters.”

“I don't feel one way or another about him. I just don't like it when people jump to conclusions.”

“So you don't believe what Karla Brutsch said about what he did to her?”

“I believe
something
happened. But the facts never came out, and instead of investigating further and getting the authorities involved like you should have, you gave Kyle a pass and swept the girl under a rug.”

“With fifty thousand dollars and a new freaking life.” Despite that bitter memory, her words made him uncomfortable. “And when did this issue become about me? I didn't give Peters a pass. That guy has a reputation, granted, but you're asking me to believe he punched a girl—an employee—in the face. There were witnesses who saw her do it to herself. And I know the guy. Kyle wouldn't do that.”

“So you believe Kyle over Karla.”

“That's not what I'm saying.” Hadrian blew out a breath. He hated the doubts clouding his judgment. “Look, this isn't about that woman or what's happened. This is about Bella and Kyle. She shouldn't have hooked up with him. The guy's a notorious player. He was never going to commit to anything long-term, and she knew she had a career to look after, so why the hell even bother?”

Mrs. Hutzenbiler studied him silently for a moment. “This isn't about Kyle and Bella at all, is it?”

He tried to skirt around her, but she raised a hand. “Cool down. You're not allowed to leave until your heart rate is back to normal. And judging by the way you're fuming, that'll be a while.”

He grumbled and sat on the ground, stretching his arms, calves and thighs. The muscles around his neck seized. He felt ready to snap.

Mrs. H. saw his pain, knelt and kneaded his shoulders. “You haven't talked to Quinn in a while.”

“I kicked that traitor out of here.”

“Why's that?” She dug her knuckles in deep, making him inhale sharply.

“She accused me of being a chauvinistic pig. I've donated thousands of dollars to women's shelters and community programs. There are all kinds of equal opportunity hiring programs at the UFF. I'm hosting a goddamned women's fight, which she's been whining about since I met her. She's never shut up about it, you know. Every freaking month, it was ‘So when are you going to open the UFF to women?' I finally do and she's on me like I've been cheating on her.”

“You never did give her that interview.”

“Because I was busy!”

His P.A. stopped her massage and fixed him with a look. “I asked you several times when you wanted to talk to her. I gave you times in your schedule for when it was doable.”

“Are you actually taking Quinn's side?”

“That's not the issue, though she's right about a few things. I helped her with the research, after all.”

Hadrian felt a stab of betrayal. Would any woman ever take his side? This was almost as bad as when his mom—

No. He wasn't going there. Mom had left him to his own devices, told him she didn't have time to deal with anything except keeping up with the bills because his father sure as hell wasn't helping....

No, this had nothing to do with his mother, or with anyone else. “I don't want you giving her any more information,” he declared. “Quinn's not welcome anywhere on my property. If I had any say in it—”

“You'd what? Get a woman fired for doing her job? All because you can't take a little criticism?” She gave a tired sigh and shook her head sharply so her iron-gray curls bounced. “I thought you'd outgrown your pettiness, Hadrian, but then, you always were emotionally immature. Some days I just want to slap some sense into your stupid face.”

He sat back, stunned and a little afraid she might do just that.

“You're not angry because of the article or about the issues she brought up. This isn't about how you treat women. This is about how you treat Quinn.”

He snorted. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“When was the last time you had a long-term relationship with a woman?”

“I don't have time for—”

“I'll tell you. You spent five months three years ago with a cage girl—Valerie Francis. That ended when she turned twenty-four and she got that modeling gig.”

“Never happier to see the back of her. And I'd seen a lot of it.”

Mrs. H.'s steep frown shut him up. “Before Valerie, there was that actress. Odious little thing with that awful sex tape. And before her, it was that coed student who wanted to be a cage girl.”

He smirked. “The one with the mole. I remember.”

His P.A. pointed at him accusingly. “Don't you see? None of these girls were your equal. None of them challenged you the way Quinn does. She made you happy. She made you want to be with her, and that scared you, didn't it?”

“Leave me alone.” He made to get up, but she clamped her steellike grip around his ankle and punched him in the back of the knee hard enough that he fell back on his ass.

“Are you looking to get fired?” he exclaimed, rubbing his tailbone.

“You can try. But I think you'll find I'm a lot harder to get rid of than any reporter.” Her expression softened. “I know there wasn't a lot of room for love while you were growing up—your mother did what she had to, God rest her soul, even if you don't feel the same way. But that's no excuse for the way you've treated Quinn. You have feelings for that woman. The moment you realized she had the power to hurt you, you put as much distance between you as you could.”

“I asked her to move in with me half a dozen times,” he countered bitterly. “I offered her everything, and she still turned me down.”

“You offered to keep her like a pet.” Hadrian opened his mouth to retort but found himself unable to refute the claim. She went on, “You wanted to buy her love and loyalty. You wanted to keep her here where she couldn't fight you.”

“I don't see what's wrong with that.”

“Because she's smarter than that, you idiot.” Mrs. H. sat back, exasperated. “When she published that feature and you saw how she could hurt you, you decided it would be safer to dump her. Am I right?”

He glowered and muttered a reply that had her glaring right back.

“I'll expect an apology for that remark after you've sulked for a while and figured out what it is you really want from Quinn.” She climbed to her feet. “Destroying her career isn't going to get you anything.” She paused before exiting. “You might want to start by thinking about what she
has
done for you and maybe appreciate what she's had to put up with.”

* * *

K
YLE
STARED
AT
his calendar, the days of the week blurring into a continuous stretch terminating with the big, bold words BELLA'S UFF FIGHT!!!!

He tried to see the other significant scheduled dates, but his gaze kept drifting back to Saturday's event. He remembered the pride mixed with excitement and trepidation that he'd felt as he'd marked it on the calendar. Remembered how clearly the immediate future had looked in terms of what he and Bella had needed to accomplish.

Right now, nothing seemed clear. Even with tonight's plans.

Carefully, he added his date with Bree to the calendar. The writing was small and faint. He scratched harder, trying to make the ink flow, but the pen petered out entirely. He tossed it aside in defeat.

“Boss.” Liz stood in the doorway. “There's someone here to see you.”

“Bella?” His cheeks heated. He hadn't meant to blurt it out loud or sound quite so desperate. The receptionist kept her expression fixed. He'd quizzed her about Bella's whereabouts since she'd stormed out of Payette's, but Liz knew nothing. He'd gone by Bella's apartment a few times, but she hadn't been home, and the store owner downstairs had said he hadn't seen her lately.

Was it possible she'd gone home to Brazil?

“I think she's one of the girls from the Touchstone youth center. She's waiting at the front desk.”

He hurried out. Shawnese leaned against the counter, chatting amiably with Tito. She smiled wide at his approach. “Hey, Kyle. I was actually looking for Bella.”

The look Tito gave him wasn't quite a stink eye, but it definitely bordered on hostile. A lot of guys had been avoiding him since Bella's departure.

“She...she's off training with a specialist,” he answered. “She's on lockdown for the fight. No one can reach her.”

“Oh.” Shawnese's smiled faded, and she studied him closely, eyes wide and watchful. It was almost as if she were reading his thoughts, his fears, the lines on his face forming a map of guilt. She rubbed her neck. “Well, I thought I'd swing by, let you guys know where I'm working now.”

“You got a job? That's great. Congrats.”

“Yeah. I'm doing some admin work at a real estate office downtown. Pay's pretty good. I'll get to rent my own place soon. Once I've got first month's rent, I'm gonna come back here and take more lessons with Bella.”

Kyle's jaw clenched so tight he saw spots. “That's...that's great.” Would she still join if Bella wasn't here? He was certain he'd driven her off for good. “Has anyone been giving you grief? Andre been around?” he asked instead.

“I haven't seen him. Jerome told me he's going to another center on the east side of town now.” She lifted a shoulder. “Still, I'd feel safer if I knew I could take care of myself. You know, the way you and Bella can.”

Every mention of Bella twisted the knife.

Her gaze flicked over him critically. “You're not wearing my necklace.”

“Huh?” He suddenly remembered her Christmas gift. “Oh. It's hanging up in my office.” On the same nail that Bella's scroll hung from, in fact. He amended quickly, “It's not that I don't like it—”

“Hey, don't worry. No jewelry, I remember the rules.” She waved him off. “Anyhow, when you see Bella next, tell her hi for me.”

“I will.” He had no idea if he'd ever see Bella again, though. And if he did, he had a feeling she wouldn't want to see
him.