Page 100 of Ireland

Ronan’s brows lifted. She wasreallypissed if she needed three minutes to whale on him.

“It’s not a fair fight,” Smith pointed out.

Ronan laughed inwardly because he knew Smith wasn’t worried about Ireland. Yes, his greater size and strength made him a threat to her, but a couple dozen people in the room would step in if he crossed a line.

Ireland’s smile was vicious. “Oh, I’m sure Ronan learned how to defend himself with a face and body like he has.”

It struck him abruptly that she knew about his record somehow. She let him know with the challenge in her eyes and the bitterness that compressed her lushly seductive mouth. His shock turned to horror, followed swiftly by grim resignation.

At that moment, he didn’t know whether he would’ve told her at some point. Part of him thought it was better if she neverknew. Another part wanted her to accept him despite his past, for her to know every dark and ugly secret he had and want him anyway.

“And maybe I won’t land every hit.” She flashed another razor-sharp smile. “Or maybe I will.”

He growled low in his throat. “I don’t doubt it.”

Smith snapped his fingers and waved his hand, clearing the combatants off the nearest mat. “Make it quick,” he told her.

Ronan focused only on her, mentally preparing for battle: a swift one on the mat and a far more difficult one after. When this was over, he had to keep Ireland close enough to figure out if what they had was fleeting or something he’d fight the world for.

She padded barefoot onto the mat. He went to the nearest bleacher bench and sat to remove his shoes and socks. Before heading over, he’d changed into gym shorts and a T-shirt. She wore a black sports bra and matching leggings, the skintight clothing revealing all the slight curves of her flawlessly sexy body.

Standing, he joined her. She widened the spread of her legs, settled her weight, and held her arms up with bent elbows. He found her defensive position of power outrageously arousing, especially considering his current circumstances.

She beckoned him with a flex of her hand and a wicked gleam in her eyes. Resigned, he shook out his body, trying to limber up.

Lunging without warning, she caught him in the shoulder with a palm strike, sending him stumbling back a few steps.

Ronan got back into place, his jaw tightening grimly. He focused more closely as they began to circle each other. Curious students started to draw closer to watch. Ireland feinted, then lashed out with her foot. His leg gave out under the blow, and he fell to one knee. A man in the room shouted, “Go, Ireland!”

She laughed, clearly enjoying herself, which was the only reason he clambered to his feet.

“You just going to stand there and bleed?” she asked.

“I’m not—” His head snapped back, and pain exploded in his mouth. “Sacre bleu!”

“What’d he say?” someone called out.

Tasting blood, Ronan rubbed his jaw and considered how to end this. He lowered a little, looking for an opening, remembering how he’d charged out of her elevator like a raging bull the night before and pinned her to the wall with his cock. She wasn’t going to be so accommodating now. He saw an opening and tackled her, shifting to take the hit to the floor, then rolling her under him. Lowering his head, he went to give her a quick kiss before she knew it was coming…

He was flat on his back and winded, to the sound of more whistles and cheers. He couldn’t quite grasp how she’d shifted and kicked him off. All he knew for sure was that his pectorals throbbed from the imprint of her heels.

“She’s giving a masterclass,” Parker called out so the entire warehouse could hear.

Ireland stood over where he lay sprawled. “Bet you wish you’d stayed home with your fiancée.”

Someone gave a long, slow whistle while others wentoooooh.

“I’mnotengaged,” he bit out.

“Does Scarlett know that?” she asked sweetly.

“Scarlett,” a woman repeated.

“Yes,” he answered vehemently. “She knows that. Everyone knows that.”

“Everyone who doesn’t live in your parish?” Her gaze was hot. “Because everyone there says you’re engaged.”

“Pour l’amour de dieu!I’m. Not. Engaged!” How did she know so damned much?

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