âYou donât own her, Sublime.â
Simon gave him an evil smile. âFar as youâre concerned, I do. And if I catch you so much as looking at her the wrong way again, my fists are going to have a discussion with your face. You got that?â
Trying for a smidge of bluster, Mallet said, âMaybe Iâm not afraid of you.â
âThen you really are dumber than I thought.â Simon released him so that he could show him the error of his waysâand Haggerty materialized out of nowhere.
âIf youâre going to draw blood, do it outside the gym. You know Deanâs rules.â
Simon looked at Haggerty, and guessed aloud, âDakota sent you in, didnât she?â
âSaid she was afraid youâd kill the youngâun.â He shrugged, then latched onto Malletâs arm. âI thought she might be right, so here I am when God knows I have better things to do than babysit idiot fighters.â He led Mallet away, all the while chewing the young manâs ear on rules and propriety and good common sense.
With no release for his anger, Simon fumed. Damn meddling woman, he thought.
Meddling, but also smart. After all, sheâd known what he would do. Apparently, Dakota had a big heart, too, if Malletâs well-being mattered to her after heâd dared to grope her.
Now Simon was the one who needed a cool shower, to bring both his anger and his ardor under control. He wasnât used to excesses of temper. He fought with brains, not emotion, and he dealt with others the same way.
All his life heâd seen things as black and white. A man needed to work hard, treat others honorably, accept his responsibilities, and along the way have some fun.
Dakota would definitely be fun.
But in his gut, he knew sheâd also be dangerous. And he couldnât ignore the fact that sheâd shown up at the worst possible time. He had to prioritize, and that meant training first, fighting second, promoting thirdâ¦and having fun with a sexy, mouthy, surprising broad fell somewhere way down on the long list.
Heâd be smart to get the hell away from her.
That is, if sheâd let him. As heâd pointed out to Dean, it was a free world and if Dakota chose to hang out at the gym, he couldnât stop her. Right?
While he showered, Simon made up his mind. Heâd find out what Dakota wanted, then heâd send her on her way.
He wouldnât touch her, damn it.
He wouldnât seduce her.
He wouldnât do all the things to her that he really wanted to do.
That decision put him in a bad enough mood. But after he redressed and went out to the main floor to find Dakota, his mood took a dangerous turn for the worse.
Dakota had removed her ridiculous black work boots. One of the heavyweights sat on the floor holding those and her satchel in his lap. He was joined by other fighters, some standing, some sitting.
None working.
They were all too busy watching Dakota, encouraging her, ogling her as she halfheartedly sparred with Mitch McGee.
Damn it, did no one take him seriously anymore?
McGee spotted Simon before Dakota did. He froze, which was unfortunate because Dakota expected him to block a kick. He didnât. She spun around, and her foot connected with Mitchâs chin. Eyes crossing, mouth going slack, Mitch staggered backward and bounced against the ropes.
âOh, my God!â Dakota ran to him. âMitch! Iâm so sorry. Are you okay?â
With growing irritation, Simon watched her fawn over McGee. What he felt was not jealousy. No. It wasnât.
Hell, no.
But McGee should have known better than to play with her, damn it. âLetâs go, Dakota,â Simon ordered.
âYeah, just a sec,â she said back.
McGee, showing some intelligence, slumped against the ropes, shook his head to clear it, and said, âIâm fine. Donât keep Sublime waiting.â
âWhy? Waiting wonât kill him. Iâve been
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