Page 77 of Wicked Proposal
I could give her that.
I could give her the best.
“No.”
She looks stricken, but only for a second. “Right,” she mumbles. “Next time, then.”
I don’t say anything to that. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.
And I know, if I climbed up those stairs, I’d end up breaking every promise I’ve ever made to myself.
“Sorry again,” she breathes, all at once. “And… thank you. For saving me.”
Before I can say anything to that, she bolts out of the car and into the night.
Pain explodes in my jaw, snapping me back to the present. A hook, right in the face.
“Damn,” Maksim whistles as I hit the ropes. “You really are off tonight, brother.”
“Shut up.”
“That’s what you get for letting a cute nurse mess with your head, you know. They don’t always make boo-boos better.”
“I said—” I spit a glob of blood on the ground. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”
Then I jump back in.
The pain is jarring, but welcome. Because Mia Winters has somehow managed what all those other women couldn’t.
She got under my skin.
And I’ve got until our next night together to figure out why.
I decide to stop toying with my opponent. When he bull-rushes in yet again, roaring, sweating, heaving like a fucking wildebeest, I slip his wild uppercut, step to the side, and unload a crisp knockout blow right to the sweet spot on his jaw.
He goes down without so much as anoof.
“Nice save,” Maks grins as I saunter back to my stool. “Almost thought you were gonna blow it.”
I don’t bother replying. I just step out of the ring and walk toward the locker room.
But when I get there, I don’t stop. Hands still taped, knuckles still bloody, I keep striding right out into the night.
The cool night air hits my face. It should be soothing, but all I can think about are Maksim’s warnings.
I hate that he dared say something like that to my face, but what I hate even more is that he might be right. Mia cost me billions in deals, first with Brad and now with Ieronim—and somehow, I still haven’t had enough of her.
I must be on edge. That’s gotta be why. My enemies are closing in, their scent alive and buzzing in the air, and that’s making me restless. It’s making me itch to act.
By the time they come knocking, I have to be ready. Ready to face them, to swing at them andwin.
And ready to sacrifice Mia.
24
MIA
“Mommy! What color do I do the petals?”
