Love On The Ropes (Ringside Romance) (15 page)

“Hey, we work with what we got,”
Mable said. “Cosmo said virgin white. That’s it.”

“What did she wear on top?” Sandy
asked, hoping for a turtleneck.

“She wore a halter cut clear down
to her navel.”

“I guess I’ll stick with this.”

“Thought you would.” Mable winked
as Sandy slipped the skirt over her jeans, then she handed over the lab coat.
“You’re all set. Lookin’ good, kid,” Mable offered.

Sandy eyed herself in the
full-length mirror. “I’m awfully ... white.”

“Go on, get out of here. You look
like the perfect Virgin Nurse.”

“Great, thanks.”

“Welcome. And tell The Stripper
I’ve got a new pattern for tear-away pants if he gets tired of tripping over
his feet.”

Sandy headed for the door.

“And Sandy?” Mable said.

“Yep?”

“Remember, virgins have more fun.”

With a groan, Sandy whipped open
the door and found The Stripper standing there.

“Wow,” he said, following close as
she headed for first aid.

“Stop it,” she said.

“What? You look good.”

“Enough.”

“I’m trying to be nice. Where are
we going?”

“I’m going to first aid to see if
Johnny needs me.”

“Listen, I talked to Cosmo. He
says the only thing we should practice is our entrance.”

“So, he’s really not going to make
me go into the ring?”

“Nope.”

“That’s a relief.”

“But...”

“Uh-oh.” She stopped outside of
first aid. “But what?”

“He wants you to practice walking
like a virgin.”

“And what, exactly, does a virgin
walk like?”

“Rigid back, swinging hips. He
said something about walking like Snow White. Does that make any sense?”

Good grief. Snow White was a
former valet for Oscar the Louse. She wore a long gown and carried a magic wand—obviously
Cosmo got his fairy tales mixed up. With a rigid back, the valet walked like
she balanced a tray of fine china on her head, yet the lower half was all
swing. Sandy never could figure out how she managed that.

Nor did she want to draw so much
male attention to body. That kind of walk attracted men who claimed to love you
to get into your bed, and leave before the morning paper hit your front steps.

“I won’t walk like her,” she
decided.

“Okay.” The Stripper put up his
hands. “Then let’s talk about the storyline. I’m fighting Dr. Killroy who’s mad
because I stole his assistant, Nurse Virgin, from his office. Apparently Dr.
Killroy has a thing for you, but never told you because he was married—now
separated—and he knew you wanted to keep your virginity until you married, but he
wasn’t sure you’d have him because he’s not a virgin and—”

“Stop. Who came up with this
storyline?”

“Cosmo. It’s last minute, but not
bad, at least according to the writers. He phoned them for feedback. They
wanted you to walk in with a bowl of cherries, throwing them to the crowd, but
I said you wouldn’t go for it.”

“Smart man.”

“Not that smart, but I am getting
a feel for what you’re into and not into.”

“I’m
so
not into being a
virgin.”

“Wait until you hear this: the
story is that you hang with The Stripper because you’re amazed by my lack of
inhibition ... and my pecs.” He crooked an eyebrow. “See, apparently, you like
touching me.” He closed the space between them and she couldn’t move. “All
over,” he whispered. “Running your hands around my butt, then you touch me in
front ... like you’re fascinated by my ...”

Was that her heart pounding in her
ears or someone banging on the wall in first aid behind her?

“You need any practice with the
rubbing part?” he rasped.

“No, I’ll manage.” She swallowed
hard.

“Then, after you do the touching
stuff, I kiss you sweetly on the lips.” He leaned forward and did just that.

Now the pounding started inside of
her, low, between her legs. Her braless nipples hardened against her tight
cotton shirt as she leaned into his chest.

More. She needed more of this.
More warmth, more hum of electricity.

More of The Stripper.

“You son of a bitch!” a man cried.

Suddenly they were wrenched apart
and a BAM security guard pinned The Stripper against the wall.

“I swore if I ever saw you again I
was going to kill you with my bare hands.”

Hell, of all the people to catch
Jason with his guard down, sporting a doozie of a hard-on, it had to be former
perp Spike Hatskill. The stupid jerk was quick about getting the upper hand,
effectively pinning J to the wall with an arm against his throat.

“How do you want to die, you son
of a bitch?” Hatskill threatened.

“What are you doing?” Sandy cried.
She grabbed Hatskill and tried yanking him away, but the guy’s arm was firmly
planted against J’s neck.

This was the perfect example of
why he shouldn’t get physically involved with a mark. Kissing Sandy had thrown
J off balance, causing him to be ambushed by the enemy.

“I want this bastard dead,”
Hatskill said. “He put my brother in jail.”

“You’re crazy!” Sandy swung her
pack at Hatskill, distracting him long enough for J to break the hold. J spun
around and shouldered him in the chest, pushing Hatskill against the opposite
wall.

“Keep it in the ring!” a wrestler
called out down the hall.

“Both of you—stop!” Sandy cried.

J threw an uppercut, then a lower
punch to Hatskill’s gut. The guy dropped to his knees and J wrapped his arms
around his neck, applying a chokehold.

Now what? The guy was
incapacitated, but what happened when J let him go? How was he going to talk
his way out of this one?

This was probably Meek’s doing.
He’d sent J to BAM knowing a former criminal was working for the organization.
No, even Meek wouldn’t stoop that low, would he?

“Let him go.”

J glanced at Sandy, who studied
him with a worried expression. What, for this jerk? Three years ago the guy had
beaten a drug conviction and let his little brother take the fall. Bastard.
Jason knew Hatskill was guilty, but they’d only had enough evidence to nail the
brother.

“If I let him go, he’ll just pick
another fight.” Not to mention blow his cover. Yet Hatskill didn’t know Jason
was part of a sting operation, unless someone had tipped him off.

“Get him ... off of me!” Hatskill
gasped against the pressure of J’s arm.

“Will you promise to behave?”
Sandy asked.

Hatskill nodded and J eased his
hold. The guy sprang free, stumbled a few feet away, turned and came after J
again. Sandy jumped in between them and all three of them hit the cement floor.
Hard.

Dazed, Jason glanced at Sandy, who
lay motionless beside him.

“Damn it,” J reached over, “Sandy?”

“Don’t touch her.” Hatskill shoved
J’s hand away as if it were poison. “Hey, Ryan, open your eyes.”

She blinked, looked at Hatskill
and smiled. J wanted to strangle the bastard.

“Sorry about that,” Hatskill said,
his voice suddenly softer.

“You should be.” Sandy glanced
from Hatskill to Jason. “Both of you.”

She got to her feet, wobbled a
second and grabbed her backpack. “What the hell is going on?”

J couldn’t speak, suddenly aware
of how close she’d come to being hurt by two angry, violent men. The thought
tore him apart inside. And she was going to be his partner in the ring? Hell,
he’d never be able to concentrate on the match.

“My brother’s in jail because of
this son of a bitch.” Hatskill started to lunge at J again, but Sandy swung her
pack at the guy’s chest.

“Hey!” Hatskill protested.

“Stop attacking The Stripper.”

“The what?”

“He’s our new main event, Jack the
Stripper. Cosmo will fire your sorry ass if you keep beating him up.”

“I’m fine,” J said.

“Now, what’s this about your
brother?” she asked Hatskill.

“This ... bastard messed up a
major deal we had going.”

“What kind of deal?”

“A business deal.” The man glared
at J. “And now my brother’s in jail.”

“Sounds like dirty business,” she
said. “Did your brother do something criminal?”

Hatskill snapped his attention to
Sandy, his eyes blazing fire. Jason fought his protective instincts.
Wait until
he inches toward her before you rip his heart out.

“Well?” She pushed. “Did your
brother break the law?”

“Maybe.”

“And you were a part of this deal
that landed him in jail? And The Stripper was involved as well?”

Hatskill clenched his jaw. If he
admitted to criminal activity, Sandy could have him fired. Cosmo Perini might
be flaky, but he had strict rules: You break the law; you find a new job. And
from what J recalled, Hatskill didn’t have a great track record of keeping
steady work. J suddenly wondered if Hatskill was behind the steroid
distribution.

Right. Now which part of his body
was talking? He wanted someone other than Sandy to be the steroid distributor
so badly he was desperate for other options.

“Look, I don’t want to know what
you guys were into,” she said. “But you’ve got to drop the grudge. Got that,
Spike?”

“Yeah,” Hatskill grunted.

Jason stood and offered his hand
to Spike. It was dangerous, but a good faith gesture. The guy stared at J’s
hand as if it were fish guts.

“Take it and make nice or I’m
going to Cosmo right now,” Sandy warned.

J wondered if she’d be on his side
once she found out he was an undercover agent out to nail her.

Hatskill got up and the men stared
each other down like a couple of dogs poised over a raw steak.

“I’m sorry about your brother,” J
said, and he was. He was even sorrier the kid ended up in jail alone. Big
brothers were supposed to protect their siblings, take care of them.

“You weren’t the one who tipped
off the cops?” Hatskill asked.

J bit back his shock. So the guy
didn’t know he was a cop? Whoa, stroke of luck there. J’s cover wasn’t blown
after all.

“I didn’t tip off the cops.”
I
am the cop
.

“I figured since you disappeared
after the arrest that you were working with them.”

“Self-preservation,” J said. “I
went underground. Wouldn’t you have done the same?”

“I guess.” Hatskill didn’t look
convinced, but he wasn’t going for J’s throat either.

“Truce?” J extended his hand.

“Yeah.” They shook hands.

“Spike, we got a problem at the
south entrance.” A voice echoed from his radio, which lay on the ground. Spike
snatched it up. “On my way.” He nodded at Sandy and left.

Sandy squared off at Jason.
“You’re into drugs?”

That was rich — s
he
was
condemning
him
for dealing?

“I’m not into anything, not
anymore,” he said.

“Great, peachy, wonderful. I’m
partnered with a criminal. Can this day get any worse?” She shouldered her pack
and headed for the locker room. A few feet away she stopped and turned. “Well,
come on, partner.”

He followed. “Yeah, I guess we
should practice our moves.”

“Gawd, and to think I let you kiss
me,” she muttered.

“It wasn’t that bad.”

“You’re a criminal, probably a
drug dealer.” She shook her head.

“Look who’s talking,” he let slip.

She stopped short. “It’s not the
same thing.”

“Whatever, we’re on in fifteen
minutes,” he said. “We’ve got to practice kissing again.”

“Forget it.”

“Don’t worry,” he said. “Virgin
kisses only. No tongue.”

“I know how to kiss,” she muttered,
walking ahead of him.

Boy, did she ever. That was the
problem: Jason enjoyed their kiss before, a little too much. He needed to do it
again to prove that he could maintain control.

“Come on, we need to get
comfortable with each other,” he said. He grabbed her hand and pulled her
close. She didn’t fight him this time, but she didn’t look happy either. “A
slow, sweet kiss before I go into the ring.” He leaned forward and touched his
lips to hers. Damn, if they weren’t the warmest, softest lips he’d ever tasted.

“Then,” he couldn’t help
whispering against her, “a congratulatory kiss after I win the match.” He
pressed his lips tenderly against hers and this time, he felt her moan.

Hold on to your sanity, McBain.
Focus, stay sharp
.

But she opened to him, her tongue
warming his, and he thought he’d go mad.

No, he was in control, always in
control. He broke the kiss.

“Not bad,” he said, his voice
hoarse.

She cleared her throat and stepped
back. “I’m only doing this to keep an eye on my brother. Don’t forget that.”

“I won’t.” He could have her, any
time, any place, in a heartbeat. They both knew it. She was an easy mark. He
could seduce her, get a confession and lock her away.

Only, with this female, he feared
losing more than a little self-respect.

“You two ready?” Cosmo called down
the hall.

“You bet!” Sandy said.

J wasn’t so sure. He didn’t know
if he’d ever be ready to perform with this free-spirited, complicated creature.
There was something unnerving about her, something that kept him off balance.

As long as she didn’t get into the
ring, he’d be fine.

“How’s this?” she asked, looping
her arm through his and glancing up at him with admiration in her eyes. “In
character enough?”

“Stop it.” J led them to the stage
curtain.

“What? Not good enough? How about
this?” She nuzzled his chest with her cheek, then slipped her hand inside his
shirt and brushed her fingertips across his nipples.

He snatched her hand away,
shocked. “What’s with you?”

“I’m trying to be convincing.” She
pouted. “You said adoring, right? ‘Fascinated with your pecs?’ What was I doing
wrong?”