LOGINHe pulled back, his hands on either side of her face. “Look at me, sugar.” She opened her eyes. “I’m not a gentle man, Reena, but I can be. I’ll be gentle with you, I promise.” He ran the tip of his finger along her full lower lip, over the tiny scar that Simon’s violence had left there. “I’m not like – like him. I’d never hurt you. Not ever.” “I know.” “Let me take you to my bed and show you, babe. Let me love you.” **** Reena Mackay has been taken advantage of one time too many. This latest betrayal leaves her broke, betrayed, and possibly homeless. So when she’s offered a chance to split rent with Mitch Corrigan – a pro fighter desperate to escape a roach-infested hotel – she takes it. Survival leaves little room for caution. Mitch is dangerous by trade and forged by a brutal past. He expects to want women who look fearless. Instead, he’s blindsided by his attraction to Reena: soft-spoken, blue-eyed, and far stronger than she appears. He wants to protect her. Claim her. Keep her safe from a world that keeps hurting her. But Mitch knows fairy tales aren’t real... and women like Reena don’t choose men like him. He’s wrong. Reena understands violence better than he ever will, and her faith in people is hard-won courage. When a so-called Prince Charming shatters her trust, Mitch is the one who stands between her and the dark. The question is whether she’ll risk her heart one more time... and whether Mitch can be her forever, or at least her now.
View MoreA few hours later, Mitch rolled over and reached for Reena. His hand touched the mattress of her bed and he opened his eyes. She was gone, and he knew where he’d find her.He padded next door to her studio and stood in the doorway watching her. She was intent on what she was doing, totally focused, and he waited quietly for her to notice him, not wanting to disturb her if she was in some kind of artistic zen world. She dabbed some paint, stepped back, cocked her head. She looked up then and saw him standing there. At the sight of his huge chest and gorgeous face, her whole body heated up, yearning for him.“Hi,” she said. “How long have you been standing there?”“Less than a minute.”“You move quietly for such a big guy. It’s rather ninja-esque of you.”“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.” He hesitated. “Can I see? Can I see some of your paintings?”Reena looked up at him in surprise. He’d never expressed any interest in her work before, beyond asking how it was going, and she had just as
Two days later, Reena came home from a day of meetings at three different art galleries and then shopping. She stood for a minute, trying to recall the new door code that Mitch had insisted from his hospital bed that she set, then she punched it in. She opened the door, precariously juggling two bags of groceries with her laptop bag and a cup of takeaway coffee.From behind her, large hands appeared out of nowhere and grabbed the groceries. She gave a small scream and turned. “Shhhh. It’s OK, sugar. It’s me.”Mitch was standing there in the hallway. She stared at him, took in the bruising and damage on his cheek, the stitches on his temple.“What are you doing here?” she said, astonished. “You’re supposed to be in the hospital for two more days!”He smiled. “And I’m happy to see you, too.” “But…”“Hush, babe. Let’s get inside and we’ll talk, OK?”She followed him in, torn between being thrilled to see him and worried about him not being in the hospital. Mitch deposited the groceries
Simon’s hot, excited breath was on his cheek now; it was almost a caress. “Your front door code, Corrigan. After I choke you out and stomp on your fucking head, I’m going to go over to your place and visit Reena. Finish what I started, and bring a few friends with me. The next time you see that bitch’s face, she’ll look like a goddamn Picasso. All in pieces and every color under the sun. Oh, and of course, her cunt will be ripped wide open. That’s a given, right?”Reena’s face appeared in front of Mitch now, and a surge of love just washed over him as he realized that his reasons for fighting Simon had completely changed. It wasn’t for Mitch to get out from under Kirk’s thumb; it wasn’t about any lingering doubts that Al may have about Bridget’s debt being settled; it wasn’t even about revenge for Simon hurting Reena. Not anymore. What he was really doing in this fucking warehouse at midnight, rolling around on a cement floor, was all about getting Simon to stay the fuck away from Ree
Mitch sat on the stool, staring across the concrete floor at Simon. He was gratified to see that the fucker looked about as bad as Mitch felt. They were just going into round three, and Mitch couldn’t believe the amount of damage they had inflicted on each other after just six minutes of fighting: to the delight of the howling, jostling crowd, both men were hitting harder than he ever thought possible. His hands were already swollen and burning under the tape, and it barely helped that Nick was holding the chilled enswell against his knuckles. Adam leaned over him now, holding a cotton swab liberally soaked in epinephrine to stop the bleeding around Mitch’s eye and on his temple. “How you doing?”“Good.” Mitch blinked hard, trying to clear his vision. “How am I looking, cutman?”Adam grinned briefly. “Yeah, you do know that cutmen usually have way more medical training that an ex-boxer, right? I’m still not sure that I was your best choice for this job, Corrigan.”“I didn’t want any


















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