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  She already was, but this information definitely explained a lot.

  “So he’s a womanizer?”

  “I don’t want to bash the guy, since I’ve never officially met him. But the guys talk in the locker room. Conversations involving Dante tend to revolve around how quickly he goes through women. He finds one, pursues her, then grows bored once the chase is over.”

  She studied Sentori. She didn’t see any malice toward Dante as he spoke, just honest concern for her. “I’m no one to you, so why tell me this?”

  “I don’t know why you left Dante on the dance floor, and frankly, I don’t care, but I thought I’d offer some basic information so you weren’t blindsided later. He can do what he wants in his home town, but in mine I’d prefer not to have any tears shed over him.”

  “I appreciate your concern.” Now she had to digest the information. Her mind grabbed onto the loophole Sentori had given her and wanted the rest of her to not care about Dante’s career and jump at the attraction she felt.

  “Don’t mention it.”

  A movement to the left caught her peripheral vision.

  Dante stormed toward them. Cait tensed before jumping to her feet. “I’m sorry, but would you excuse me?”

  Now was not the time to deal with Dante. She needed to think rationally—something she had a hard time doing anytime he was near.

  …

  Dante didn’t slow his steps as Caitlyn bolted in the opposite direction. He was glad she left, even if the reason was because of him and not the prick sitting at the table. The farther away she was from Sentori, the happier he was. He placed both hands on the table and leaned into Sentori’s face. “What’d you say to her?”

  Sentori leaned back in his chair, resting an ankle on his knee. “Nothing she didn’t need to hear.”

  “I swear to God you better not say anything to upset her.”

  “What? You have a soft spot for the fat girl?”

  Dante jerked back, stunned by the cruel question. “What the hell did you just say?”

  “Oh, come on, Inferno. You seriously think she’s hot? Man, I think you’ve been hit a little too hard in the head.”

  “Your reputation knows no bounds, does it, Sentori? You really are complete slime.”

  “If being a slime is speaking the truth, then so be it.”

  Dante straightened, pointing a finger. “Stay away from her.”

  “I’ll let her make that decision. Besides, your knight in shining armor act has me even more intrigued about Miss Piggy. Even after she rejected you in front of the entire club, you came to her rescue. What am I missing out on? Maybe there is something under all the extra flesh.”

  “You disgust me.” Dante turned away from the delight in Sentori’s eyes. The ass was enjoying every minute of getting under his skin. Mike had warned him, but Dante had never imagined Sentori would use Caitlyn to make him see red, and in such a cruel manner. He wouldn’t rise to it, though. He knew Sentori’s game.

  Even as he reminded himself of that, he spun and said, “Caitlyn is breathtaking, one of the most gorgeous women I’ve had the pleasure of meeting, and I pity you for being so wrapped up in shit-talk you’d stoop to the level you just did. But you’ve given me all the more reason to beat your ass come September.”

  As Dante strode off in search of Caitlyn, he took satisfaction in the scowl he’d left on Sentori’s face.

  Chapter Six

  Cait hurried into the bathroom. If Sentori told her the truth, and she didn’t see why he’d lie, she’d given Dante all the more reason to pursue her. Why her, though? Why not one of the bombshells frequenting the club who could meet him one flirting line after another?

  He had to know she was awkward around men, had no finesse. Hell, she’d only had sex with two men. Once. Each. In the dark. So why her inexperienced ass? Was it her inexperience that attracted him? Did she represent more of a challenge?

  She wasn’t sure how she felt about that possibility.

  A cluster of women gathered around the sinks, most applying lipstick or fluffing their hair. Cait waited until a space became available to wedge herself in. After dampening a paper towel, she wiped her face, cooling her overheated skin.

  “Did you see the Inferno out there?”

  Cait froze. Her gaze darted down the long mirror and focused on the speaker two sinks over.

  A tall, slim, strawberry blonde smudged the eyeliner under her eyes with her fingertip as she talked to the shorter brunette beside her.

  “I swear that man puts other extreme fighters to shame,” the dark-haired woman said, lust dripping off each word. “Did you see his match a few months ago? Damn, that man is completely lickable.”

  The blonde turned to face her friend, a smug tilt to her bright red lips. “And I plan to lick every inch of his hard body.”

  Cait’s stomach knotted with violent jealousy at the thought of anyone else licking Dante. Then she started. What was she thinking? Here she was ready to claw this woman’s eyes out over a man who might have only been interested in her because she hadn’t thrown herself at him.

  She needed some perspective. After pushing her way out of the crowded bathroom, she searched for any place to get some quiet. An open door provided a current of fresh air and she hurried toward it. Once outside, she inhaled deeply. July humidity filled her lungs.

  She gripped the white railing of the tiny deck, the dull thumping of the music in the background her only companion. As much as she hated to admit it, Dante was worming his way past her resistance and she was damn close to crumbling. Should she go with it?

  Sentori had pretty much guaranteed nothing serious would come out of her seeing Dante, so the pressure was off. She wouldn’t have to deal for very long with a career she couldn’t stand.

  But could she sleep with Dante? He was already far outside her comfort zone in the man department. She had no doubt that sex with him would be, too. He’d want the lights on and a woman with no inhibitions. She wasn’t certain she’d come far enough to stand in front of Dante Jones naked and allow him to see her imperfect glory while he stood before her completely perfect.

  “If it’s not the Inferno’s bitch.”

  Icy fear washed over her and she froze, her grip tightening on the railing. The planks creaked as someone stepped closer. The stench of rum invaded her nose.

  She whirled to find George looming over her. Tall. Muscular. Menacing. She stepped back.

  “I don’t like being made a fool of, even if you’re some fighter’s girlfriend.”

  Cait brushed past him. He grabbed her arm and slammed her against the wall. A cry wrenched from her throat as she stared at the inebriated man.

  “I-I didn’t have anything to do with that. I’m sorry for the confusion.” Her voice trickled out a bare whisper as she tried to yank her arm away.

  His grip tightened, his strong fingers digging into her flesh. Pain lanced up her arm and into her shoulder.

  “Let me go!”

  He laughed, a cold, frightening sound. Terror climbed into her throat. Her lips parted to scream, but before she could release it, he clamped his hand over her mouth and slammed her into the wall again.

  She twisted, using her free hand to push against his massive chest. He was like a wall of iron, immovable, impenetrable. God, she couldn’t get him off her! The thought paralyzed her and her mind shut down.

  He pressed closer and her back bit into the wood. A large hand ran down her shoulder toward her waist, stopping just under the curve of her breast. Cait whimpered.

  “I’ve never had an MMA star’s woman before. What would it be like?”

  Please, someone help me!

  His hand inched upward, leaving a blazing trail of disgust. She tried to jerk away from the offending touch and tried to slap his face. Sneering, he snatched her wrist and brought both arms above her head. The odor of liquor fanned her face. She gagged, closing her eyes.

  “Get your fucking hands off her!”

  Relief cr
ashed into Cait at the furious growl behind those words.

  Dante.

  One moment she was flattened against the wall, the next she stumbled forward as the weight of the man’s body lifted from her. She opened her eyes in time to see Dante punch George.

  The man’s eyes rolled back and he crumpled to the ground. Dante whirled toward her, charging forward. Rage twisted his features and made him look so frightening any sensible man would be terrified to fight him. His fierce reaction gave her a sense of safety.

  He stopped in front of her, his expression gentling as he cupped her cheek. His hand trembled against her skin. “God, Caitlyn. Are you okay?”

  She laid her fingers on top of his. “I am now. Thank you.”

  “Damn it, that scared me to death.”

  Her eyes widened. It was hard to believe anything scared this man.

  “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  She nodded.

  He kissed her forehead then took her into his arms. She went willingly, resting her cheek against his chest. The rapid beat of his heart sounded in her ear, calming her, and she took a quivering breath.

  His arms tightened around her. “Woman, you have no fighting sense. Have you never taken self-defense?”

  She couldn’t help a shocked laugh. Leave it to a fighter to be pissed she hadn’t known how to fight. She pulled back from his embrace. “No.”

  A frown marred Dante’s mouth. “Everyone should know basic fighting, Caitlyn. Especially someone as beautiful as you.”

  It was the second time he’d called her beautiful, and for the second time, her heart skipped a beat at the sincerity in his voice. She’d only been called beautiful by her daddy and Paul. To hear it come from this gorgeous man left her awed.

  His gaze lowered to her lips and he swallowed, then he released her and stepped back. Why did he retreat? It wasn’t like him to back away.

  “I want you to meet me at my training facility on Monday.”

  “Why?”

  “For your first self-defense class.”

  Cait stood outside the glass door to the training facility, butterflies fluttering in her stomach. She reached to open the door, then snatched her hand away.

  Inside, a shirtless Dante ran on a treadmill. Sweat coated his tanned back. The tribal tattoo on his bicep ran over his shoulder blade in sharp, curved, thick black lines, disappearing over his shoulder. Cait wondered if the ink continued onto his chest. The tat only intensified her attraction. It made her body quiver in odd sensations as she followed the intricate design with her eyes.

  Lickable was an understatement.

  She soaked up his masculinity while he continued to run, unaware of her attention. His muscles flexed and moved as his feet glided over the moving track. Effortless. He made running seem effortless.

  She glanced down at her attire. She’d gotten up first thing this morning and bought a pair of black yoga pants and a fitted v-neck T-shirt. It was the first time ever she’d dressed in something fitting to work out in. And she was proud of herself of doing it on her own without goading from Amy and Paul.

  She reached for the bar and stopped.

  Why couldn’t she open the blasted door? It wasn’t as though this was a date. Dante was simply worried for her welfare, wanted to help her protect herself. She should be grateful, not stand there quaking like the high school geek facing the class quarterback.

  “Can I help you?”

  Cait whirled to find a bulky, bald man towering over her. She stepped back. “Um, I’m supposed to meet Dante.”

  No turning back now.

  The older man scowled. Shifting from foot to foot, she bit her lip.

  “You’re pretty nervous for a chick who’s supposed to meet someone. You’re not a groupie, are you?”

  “No!”

  “You better not be. Dante doesn’t have time for a fan club.”

  “No, sir. I swear I’m supposed to be here.” Why hadn’t she opened the door when she had the chance? “He’s supposed to give me a self-defense lesson.”

  “Why don’t we go inside and see what he has to say?”

  Cait swallowed, nodding. The giant reached around her and opened the door. When he raised a brow, she bolted inside.

  Heat flamed her face, whether in embarrassment or anger she wasn’t sure. This man thought her one of those pathetic fans who stalked their heroes. It didn’t even occur to him that what she said was true. “Dante!”

  The heat in her cheeks intensified when Dante’s head snapped up and his eyes met hers in the mirror. He grinned and waved before hitting the emergency stop button and trotting over.

  “Caitlyn, I’m glad you came.” He wiped sweat off his forehead with a white towel. The tattoo did indeed creep along the top portion of his smooth chest, stopping just above the nipple of a well-defined pec.

  Ah, hell.

  “You know her, then?”

  “Yeah, she’s Brad’s girlfriend’s roommate.”

  “My apologies, miss. I have to stay on the lookout for fans. They clog up my gym something awful, especially with a big name like Dante in town.”

  Cait waved away his explanation. “No worries, I understand.”

  “Caitlyn, this is my trainer, Mike Cannon. Mike, Caitlyn Moore.”

  He offered his hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

  She shook his hand.

  “I’m going to show her some self-defense moves. She had some drunk bothering her Saturday night.”

  Mike nodded. “I’ll leave you to it, then. I have some business to take care of.” He walked into an office and shut the door.

  Dante looked at her. “You ready to start?”

  He seemed so distant, not like the Dante she’d come to expect. “If this is a bad time, we could do this later.”

  His gaze flew to hers. “No!” He stopped, clearing his throat. “No. This is a perfect time.”

  “If you’re sure.” An awkward silence enveloped them. She bit her lip as Dante pulled a shirt over his head, trying to contain her disappointment at him covering his exquisite chest.

  “I guess it would be best to do this in the grappling area.”

  She turned in the direction he pointed. A large blue mat covered the floor in the far left corner.

  “Okay,” she said.

  He grabbed her hand and pulled her behind him. The feel of his fingers wrapped around hers sent little shocks pulsing up her arm. She closed her eyes. Agreeing to this had been a bad idea. If holding his hand caused this kind of reaction, what would happen once he started teaching her?

  When they reached the mat, he released her hand and faced her. “What we’ll go over today is very basic self-defense, enough to give you some protection.”

  He grabbed her shoulders and moved her so she stood directly in front of him. “It’s really simple. There are four things to know. Groin, eyes, throat, feet. Groin is self-explanatory, but never kick. An attacker can grab your leg if you do. Instead, use your knee. You had the perfect opportunity to do that, but you froze.”

  “He surprised me.”

  His brows rose. “Most attackers don’t warn you before they attack, Caitlyn. You always have to be prepared.”

  Dante lunged forward and pushed her against the wall, his body flush against hers. He grabbed her hands and raised them over her head, bringing him even closer. This was a lesson and he’d just told her how to defend herself, but all that held her attention was his face buried in the curve of her neck, his breath heating the sensitive skin behind her ear.

  He released her then stepped back. “You froze again.”

  Not for the reason you think.

  “I want you to try and knee me.”

  She finally found her voice. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

  “I didn’t say to do it, I said to try. I’m prepared for it. I’ll be able to deflect you.”

  Without warning, he lunged again. This time she brought her knee up. Dante twisted his body, her knee catching his hip.


  He grinned. “Nice.” And he patted her on the shoulder.

  A pat? Really?

  What was going on with him?

  She stepped in front of him, confused by his behavior. Dante pointed to his eyes with two fingers. “Now we move here. The eyes are vulnerable.”

  She squared her shoulders. Maybe they could start a friendship. A friendship would be nice.

  “Last night, that guy grabbed you, which meant his hands were occupied. Come here.”

  With one hand, he gripped her waist, pulling her forward. The closer he brought her, the tighter her lungs squeezed. He slid the fingers of his other hand into the hair at her nape. Tingles spread from her head all the way to her toes. She stared at his face, so close to hers that if she leaned forward the tiniest fraction, their lips would meet.

  “Use one hand to grab the back of his neck and pull him down.” He gently placed his thumb in the corner of one of her eyes and moved it back and forth. “Here’s where you want to grind down with all the pressure you can.”

  Again, he released her and stepped back. Cait wanted to stamp her foot in frustration.

  “Now your turn,” he said.

  She moved close to him, sliding her fingers around the back of his neck. The clipped short hair felt rough against her palm. He suddenly wrapped his arms around her body and pressed her back against the wall. She had the urge to pull his head down and kiss him, to go with the incredible need, but she needed him to make the first move, especially with the way he was acting today. Instead, she placed her thumb by his left eye and copied the movement he’d shown her.

  Dante stilled, his jaw working back and forth. He shook his head and jumped back. “Good.”

  Why had he moved away? But she cleared her throat and said, “Next?”

  Dante cleared his throat. “Right. Next.” He inhaled then finally glanced at her. “The windpipe. One open-handed strike to the front of the throat can cause serious damage.”

  He hesitated, working his head back and forth before he walked over to her.

  “Take your hand and make a C. Then strike at the neck like you’re trying to push the windpipe out the back of his throat. Or you can sink your thumb and fingers into the voice box and squeeze, pulling out. I’ll let you decide which one you want to try.”