Fighting Dirty - Sidney Halston Page 0,1

than that. Last guy I broke up with, I burned all his clothes.”

“Damn,” he said, looking worried. “Well, I’m done talking about her. Go out with me, Jamie Lynn. I want to celebrate.”

“Can’t. Told you, I’m working.”

“What time do you get off?”

“At five.”

“Okay, here’s the plan. I’m going to get in my workout at the Academy, then I’ll meet you back here at five. You’ll spend the rest of the day with me.”

She snorted and rolled her eyes as she walked away to tend to another customer. “Keep dreamin’, darling,” she said over her shoulder. “The answer is still no. Just ’cause you rule that little empire of yours with an iron fist—”

“What?” he said with a snort.

“Just assuming from your usual staid personality that you’re some sort of a hard-assed boss. But that’s not the point. The point is that I’m not one of your employees, someone you can dictate orders to,” she said as she mixed drinks. “Besides, I have plans.”

Plans?

This was the second time she’d rejected him because of “plans.” He’d asked her out repeatedly for months. And five weeks ago, he had even grabbed life by the balls and kissed her—a brazen act that had surprised both of them. The kiss had been off-the-charts hot, startling even him. She’d melted into his arms and given herself over to him completely, and for the minute their mouths had been connected, he’d thought there was no possible way she’d turn him down again. Except she had, even though he knew she wanted him as much as he wanted her. That kiss had said it all. The way she’d trembled in his arms and moaned softly couldn’t be denied. Why she was so hesitant to go out with him was something he couldn’t understand. He didn’t know what was holding her back; he didn’t think there was another man, though he couldn’t help but wonder.

Enzo finished his drink, slapped more money than necessary on the counter, waved goodbye, and left. He wasn’t going to give up. Not at all. Tomorrow he’d try his luck with the little pixie again.

As soon as Enzo walked out of the Pier the Florida heat smacked him in the face. He needed to get out more often. He was usually stuck in an office, even when he lived in Brazil, and he didn’t get to enjoy the outdoors nearly enough.

He walked the few blocks down to Worth the Fight Academy, the mixed martial arts training gym partly owned by his cousin and only family in Florida, Francesca Silva. Growing up privileged, the very elite of Brazilian society, he’d attended the best schools and socialized only with the children of those who ran in his parents’ circle. He’d known about the poverty that infested parts of Brazil, but he’d never witnessed it until he was twelve years old and saw his first Brazilian jiujitsu bout in a favela. After that he became obsessed with learning the hugely popular martial art. Unfortunately, his parents were completely and utterly against their son doing something so “beneath” him, calling it a savage sport for the poor.

The only rebellious thing Enzo had ever done in his thirty-two years of life was the seven years he’d spent pretending he was taking piano lessons but was instead learning and training in jiujitsu. It wasn’t a hard lie to keep up, since his mother and father were frequently out of town, and even when they were in town, they weren’t the hands-on type of parents. In fact, they paid other people to do most of the parenting. Plus he was actually very gifted at playing the piano, so keeping up the ruse hadn’t been that difficult.

As soon as he’d heard that Francesca was moving to Tarpon Springs to take over her father’s MMA academy, he’d decided that he needed a change as well. He wanted to get as far away from Marianna and the shitstorm that the divorce was bringing the family and their joint businesses. So he’d run away like a pussy, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t stand one more minute of the insistent hounding from everyone who thought the divorce was a mistake.

Enzo walked into the Academy and immediately headed for the big steel cage that sat in the middle of the gym. There, Francesca’s husband, Tony, was sparring with Cain, another fighter and trainer. “You came to train?” Tony asked, without taking his eyes off his opponent.

“Yes. I’m ready to fight in the February bout.”

Tony snorted out a