I tell Charles we need five minutes. Raven checks her face in a mirror, and I think about everything except what I’ll be doing to her later tonight. Great, now I’m thinking about it again.
“You about done? If’ I don’t get out of here soon, I’ll finish what I started.”
She gives me a sexy smile and tucks a couple loose strands of hair back into place. “I’m ready.”
I laugh, shaking my head at her mixed message reply.
We exit the limo, and holding hands, we walk through Mandalay Bay Hotel’s casino to the elevators. Raven fidgets at my side as photographers snap pictures and people start to gather.
“You look gorgeous, baby.” I try to take her mind off being the center of attention to a bunch of strangers. She blushes and holds my hand tighter.
This dinner is held on the sixty-fourth floor of the hotel in a swanky restaurant called Mix. As soon as we exit the elevator, we’re greeted by an older gentleman in a tuxedo.
“Ah, Mr. Slade. Your party is expecting you. If you’ll follow me, I’ll escort you and Miss . . .”
Her hand locks mine in a death grip.
“Raven,” I say.
“Of course, Mr. Slade. Miss Raven. Please follow me.”
Releasing her firm grip, she leans into my shoulder. “Thank you.” Her whispered words are only for my ears.
I lift her hand, kiss her knuckles, and give her a wink. She never tells people her last name, afraid of being associated with Dominick. His name circulates among the richest of Vegas’s philanderers. And a high-end place like this is bound to be familiar with the name if not the man himself.
We’re led into a private dining room in the back of the restaurant. It’s packed with roughly thirty people from the organization. I feel Raven’s hesitation as we step into the crowd. I spot Owen and Nikki across the room and decide to stick close to them so that Raven will have someone to talk to.
Different people greet me with handshakes and hellos, but all their eyes are on my girl. This is going to be a long f**king night.
Twenty-four
Raven
I’m at one of the fanciest restaurants in town, I arrived by limo, and I’m wearing an outfit that cost more than I make in a month, bought for me by my rich boyfriend.
I’m Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman.
How appropriate.
No, Cinderella. I’m Cinderella out with my Prince Charming. Although, I’m pretty sure my Prince Charming would kick the real Prince Charming’s butt in a fistfight. And now my nerves are setting up imaginary fights between cartoon characters.
Well, at least it’s taking my mind off the fact that I’m totally out of my element. I may as well have written I don’t belong on my forehead in black eyeliner. Everyone here is either rich, famous, influential, or a combination of all three. I need to pull it together.
I jump as Jonah places his hand on my back. I look up to see a tall man with sandy blond hair and blue eyes eyeing me.
“Raven, this is Taylor Gibbs, the owner of the UFL.”
I gather my social graces. I’ve never seen so many high-powered people in one room. The place is practically vibrating with egos and money.
“Mr. Gibbs, it’s nice to meet you. Thank you for having me.”
“Raven, it’s a pleasure.”
He reaches out to shake the hand I’ve extended. Jonah tenses and pulls me closer to him, tucking me deep into his side. Mr. Gibbs brings my offered hand to his mouth, kissing it softly.
I press deeper into Jonah at the gesture. No one’s touch feels welcome, except Jonah’s. To keep from embarrassing him in front of his boss, I put on a brave face.
“I’m glad you could make it, Raven.” His glare zeros in on Jonah and a whisper of tension charges the air between them.
My eyes dart back and forth between the two.
Jonah’s brooding is directed at his boss. Mr. Gibbs smirks at me and releases my hand. I bring it immediately to Jonah’s abdomen, hoping that the touch will help shake the creepy from my hand.
Mr. Gibbs starts in with Jonah about who he needs to touch base with at the party when a man walks up behind him. He’s as big as Jonah in height and width, but where Jonah’s ferocity is inviting, this man’s is terrifying. He has dark hair and eyes that look almost black. His face is held in a permanent scowl with a scar over his left eye and one at his chin. He stalks toward us with the grace of a rhino.
“Well, if it isn’t my own personal punching bag,” he says, glaring at Jonah.
Jonah’s grip tightens. “Del Toro. I thought they only allowed civilized people into this place. Not knuckle-dragging chimps like you.”
Mr. Gibbs moves between the fighters. “Save it for the octagon, guys. No need to make a scene in front of the lovely Raven.”
Del Toro’s eyes swing to me and his head tilts to the side. He studies my face and a small smile tips his lips. His expression is animalistic, but not a chimp like Jonah chided. He looks more like a hungry lion.
Now I know what it feels like to be a zebra on the Serengeti.
“Raven, when you get bored with this loser, I’ll show you how a champion does it.” He steps forward, causing Mr. Gibbs to use his shoulder to keep him back.
Jonah growls so deeply that I feel it before I hear it. His eyes fix on Del Toro in the death stare to end all death stares. “You f**king talk to her again I’ll put you in a coma right here.”
Energy from years of animosity rolls off of them in waves. Jonah’s jaw is tense, his icy glare fixed, and his fists balled at his sides. He’s about to lose it. I can’t let that happen.
I put on my sweetest smile and step in front of Jonah, placing myself directly between two of the biggest men I’ve ever seen. “You must be Victor Del Toro. Jonah’s told me all about you. Six years as the Heavyweight Champion.” I whistle through my teeth. “That’s impressive.”
Blinking, Del Toro takes his eyes from a seething Jonah and sets them on me. His face visibly relaxes, but not by much.
“Yeah, it’s impressive, and I don’t plan on giving up the title anytime soon.”
“No, of course not.” I bat at him with a girlie giggle that’s so sweet it makes Del Toro smile. Great. It’s working. “About your offer, I can promise you I’ll never get bored with Jonah. But thank you for the compliment.”
“You let me know if you change your mind, sweetheart.” He glares at Jonah one last time and walks away.
There’s a collective sigh of relief from two of the three people left. Jonah’s still seething, but at least his fists are no longer clenched.
“Wow, you have a gift. I’ve never seen anyone who can talk down testosterone-fueled fighters that quickly. Must be those eyes.” Mr. Gibbs winks at me before excusing himself.
Once he’s gone, I turn to a still-frozen Jonah. Pressing my body to the length of his, I slide my hands around his neck. His eyes are unfocused, clinging to the edge of self-control.
“Hey. You okay?”
He makes a sound that’s half grunt half groan. Hm. Not okay. I need to try a different tactic.
I press my br**sts against his chest and kiss his chin. This gets me his eyes. Progress.
Making my way from there, I brush my lips against his jaw line slowly, allowing him to feel my breath on his face. His arms wrap around my waist, and his thumbs rub circles on the exposed skin at my back. Now we’re getting somewhere.
I kiss below his ear. “You okay?”
“Better.”
I lean away, but keep my hands locked behind his neck. “That was intense.”
“I want to beat that guy’s ass. I swear, Raven, I don’t regret making that deal with Dominick. I’d do it a million times over,” he whispers. “But, I’m really, really looking forward to beating the shit out of that a**hole when I get another opportunity.”
I try to comfort him with a smile, but it feels off. My chest aches. Guilt wars with gratitude. How can I do this to him? How can I not?
This must be torture: all this talk about being the next Heavyweight Champion, his undefeated record, and Del Toro antagonizing him. Instead of going out there on fight night, doing what comes naturally, he has to play possum.
I’m grateful for his sacrifice, but I didn’t anticipate how much he would suffer. Turn his back on his instincts. Push down his nature. All for me.
I pull away and he releases me from his hold. His eyes roam the room casually, unaware of the internal struggle his words induced.
My lungs are tight. I can’t breathe. The weight of all that’s happened presses in from all angles. I turn to a nearby table and lean heavy against the chair. I knew what he was giving up on a hypothetical level, but seeing it with my own eyes, feeling the aggression electrifying the space between them, just made this real.
A group of people walk up to us, but I’m so lost in my head I don’t pay attention. My mind whirls with excuses to get out of here. Bathroom. I’ll just run to the bathroom, gather myself and—What the hell?
A gorgeous blonde in a skin-tight, bright red dress is standing way to close to Jonah. I watch in horror as the beauty queen wraps her arms around his neck. In sickening slow motion, she presses an open mouth kiss right on his lips.
Fuck that!
Adrenaline floods my veins.
“Hey!” My body moves before I think better of it and I’m right in her face.
Jonah’s wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Get your hands off my boyfriend.”
She looks me up and down before pressing her body closer to his. Jonah takes a step to the side, but she winds her arms around his waist, sticking to him like a Siamese twin. “And if I don’t? What are you going to do about it?”
Even her glare is pretty.
“Step away. Now.” My voice shakes, but I stand tall.
Jonah gives her arms a final tug and she releases her hold.
She steps into my space. With her slutty shoes, she’s a good six inches taller than me. Her strapless dress reveals cut muscles that are coiled and ready. “Do you have any idea who I am?”
“No. Don’t care. But if you touch my boyfriend again, you’re going to find out who I am.”
An evil glint touches her crystal blue eyes. “I’m Camille Fisher. I fight for a living. You want to go there. Let’s go there.”
I’m sick and tired of people messing with me. She may be strong and trained, but I’m fed up and pushed past my limit.
I get right in her face and give her a smile that is most likely all teeth. “I’m Raven, Jonah’s girlfriend. And I’m a mechanic.”
She tosses her head back, her blond hair cascading around her shoulders, and laughs. “Mechanic. Scary.” She says the last word in a sing-song voice and rolls her eyes. Her body closes in.
“Baby, leave it alone. Let’s go.” Jonah slides his hand around my waist.
“Yeah, you should be scared.” I lean in until our noses are almost touching. “Every time you get in your car, I want you to think about how easy it would be for me to cut your brakes. I’m sure you have some overpriced piece of fiberglass built in some foreign country. Do you have any idea how simple it is to disassemble a car? A few missing bolts and the thing falls apart while you’re driving down the freeway.”