Page 4 of Coming for the Champion
“Sure, why not now? Mr Milson?”
“Perhaps.” The Colossus tilted his head slightly. “I had blocked out this afternoon for this meeting.”
“Then you have plenty of time. Go on. Train.” Bennington waved his hand and Rory tried not to flinch at the reminder of their relative status in society.
“Bennington. Be nicer to our guests.” Mardin’s comment elicited a grin from Bennington, which led to a hot glance between Bennington and Mardin that sent a wave of jealousy tightening Rory’s gut. As much as he shouldn’t, he craved such a connection for himself. When he’d been younger it had been easier to take the risks necessary to find relief with another man, but now he had too many people relying on him.
“Thank you for your carriage, Bennington. We will do our best to come up to scratch.” He waved towards the door and waited for The Colossus to leave before following him. They had barely taken a few steps into the hallway when The Colossus rounded on him.
“What was that?”
“Not here.” Rory wasn’t going to have this conversation where Bennington and Mardin, or anyone who worked for them, might hear.
The Colossus nodded. “In the carriage.”
“Yes.”
The Colossus spoke to the driver quickly, then Rory watched The Colossus get into Bennington’s carriage before he followed him inside. The big man’s movements were deliberate and something about them tugged at a memory, just out of reach.
“Why did you agree to do this?” The Colossus got directly to the point. “I know what happened in your last fight. You said you’d never get back in the ring.”
“Yes. I did say that, and it remains true.”
The Colossus raised his eyebrows and Rory knew he’d have to tell the story.
“It’s simple. I came to London seeking investors for a ...” He wasn’t sure how much he wanted to reveal. “... project and Ihappened to meet Bennington. His butler recognised me, and Bennington begged me to take part in the match so they could get you.” He would’ve said no if there weren’t so many people relying on his success in London.
“And you thought that you could pretend to go along with his scheme for a while until you got him to invest in your project?”
Rory had definitely thought about asking Bennington for funds, but he wasn’t sure yet. He knew it was probably naïve to hope that he’d hook a bigger investor—also there was the problem with the history between Bennington’s father and his father—and he had effectively trapped himself into this fight. “Bennington agreed to introduce me to the right people in return for agreeing to support his charity.” He couldn’t quite bring himself to say fight, unable to face those memories.
The Colossus glared, fire flickering in the dark brown of his eyes. “I did not want to be involved in this.” He had his hands shoved in his overcoat pockets.
Rory breathed in deeply. “I realised that when they said you’d agreed to the fight only if I was the opponent. It was clever to choose someone who would never fight again.”
“And you were supposed to be safely ensconced in Scotland.”
“Yes. My apologies for the inconvenience.” He tried to sound more sarcastic than he felt to hide how scared he was that he’d have to confront his own past.
The Colossus growled low under his breath and damn it, Rory was incredibly aroused by the way the sound vibrated over his skin. He’d always been attracted to men who were heavier than him, who could smother him with their weight. He was taller than almost everyone, a great advantage in daily life, but in bedsport, he wanted someone who could be his equal, if not in height, but at least in weight. Men tended to assume that he would overpower them because of his size and his reputation as a champion boxer, but it wasn’t his preference.
“What will we do?” he asked.
“You need to find a solution. You got us into this mess.” Technically, The Colossus was correct. And now he was leaning closer to Rory, close enough that he could smell the woody fragrance that clung to The Colossus’ clothes as if he’d recently walked through the woods, brushing up against pine needles. It reminded Rory of Christmas dinners when he was a child with boughs of holly and pine decorating the dining room of his family’s castle. He might be imagining it, but perhaps there was a hint of roast lamb, a memory of better times before his parents had died. He swallowed.
“We could spar. I’ll fake an injury.”
“You won’t be open about not wanting to fight but you’ll lie about an injury?”
Rory gulped. “I need what Bennington is offering.” As if that justified his inconsistencies and the way he was trying to not lie while avoiding the truth. It was a lie with a different name. A few weeks in London and he was becoming the scoundrel he’d always said he wouldn’t be.
“We all need things.”
Yes, Rory needed an investor. He needed a solution to get out of this fight that neither of them wanted to do, and ... it slowly dawned on him.
“What do you need?”
The Colossus responded by raking his gaze over Rory’s body; or perhaps that was his imagination? Being inside a carriage with him—two big men in a smallish space—was fraying his nerves. “Maybe I need to fight?”
