Drago entered his condo a few minutes later. It was only just past lunch hour, but he’d taken off when Belle had hit the shower. Even though things between them had been improving, he didn’t trust her enough yet.
The scent of strawberry and vanilla was infused in the air. She’d completely transformed his masculine domain. The bathroom door was open, so he hoped Belle hadn’t taken off.
“Belle?”
When he didn’t hear a response, he checked the spare room she’d been staying in. Carlos had brought a bunch of her stuff from her apartment, so she had all the comforts of home. It was quiet, so he pushed open the door.
Belle squealed, twirling away from him and grabbing a towel from the bed to wrap around herself. “You could knock,” she said. She hadn’t been naked, just wearing her bra and panties as she combed out her hair. He was no choir boy, so she shouldn’t be worried.
Instead of leaving, he entered the room. She still faced the mirror, so when he came up behind her, he towered over her in size. He rested a hand on her bare shoulder.
“I have some good cream for pain and bruising. I used to slather that shit on after every fight back in the day.”
“I’m okay.”
“Take the towel off, Belle. Let me see.” For the brief moment she’d been uncovered, he saw some seriously black bruising. He felt responsible for her. She had no one else in the world. He wanted to be that person for her, the one he’d needed but never had. Maybe more.
“Are you kidding?”
He gritted his teeth. “Listen, little lady, I just want to check where you’ve been hit. It looked bad.”
“I’m fine, Drago. I don’t need coddling.”
He left only long enough to get his herbal remedy. “Drop the towel.” He sat on the edge of the bed and beckoned her closer. She came toward him on command, which shocked the hell out of him. When she was in front of him, he tugged away her towel.
“Drago!”
“I can’t fix it if I can’t see anything. Relax. You have nothing I haven’t seen.” He pulled her closer with a firm hand to the side of her waist, and then got some cream ready. “You really took a beating. Does it hurt?”
She shook her head. “Pain doesn’t bother me. It’s just my body.”
He frowned. “Your father teach you that?”
The room was too quiet.
“How do you make a person love you, Drago? My father wanted a beast, and I gave him what he wanted,” she said. “Guess that wasn’t enough.”
He didn’t respond. Drago gently rubbed the cream into the sides of her ribs and stomach. God, her skin was soft. He’d fucked his fair share of women over the years. He was pushing forty, so he wasn’t short on experience. But, damn, Belle was something different. She was strong and vulnerable in equal parts.
Her hair was usually in braids or a tight bun when she fought. Now it was loose, falling all the way down to her ass, heavy and damp. Her thin white bra and panties made him think of her as a woman, not a hard-as-nails force.
“He doesn’t deserve you,” he said. Drago wanted to pull her closer, to kiss her stomach, and a hell of a lot more.
“Who?”
“Nobody. Not your father, your ex … or even me. You’re too damn good for any man.”
“We both know the truth about Ava’s father. No one wants a woman like me. I’ve only ever been good for one thing. Now that I stopped fighting, I’m disposable.”
“Don’t say that.” His hands drifted lower, until he had her by the hips. He wanted he tell her she meant something to him, but she’d only think he was after sex. Drago didn’t want to come across as another asshole ready to take advantage of her.
“It’s true.”
“You’re special, Belle,” he said. “I remember watching you in the ring years ago. Even then, I could see you didn’t belong.”
“I was the best,” she whispered.
“You were meant for better things. You’re not like them—not the other girls in the ring, not your family, no one in the lifestyle. After I retired, I always hoped you’d choose to walk away.” He painted small circles over her skin with his thumbs, not willing to release her just yet. She hadn’t pulled away.
“I did.”
“And now you’re back,” he said. “After this is over, I want you to leave. Go far away with your daughter. Forget the ring, forget your father, forget me.”
For the first time, she moved a muscle, reaching out to touch his face. She wasn’t an affectionate woman, always stifling her emotions. Maybe it was an act for the ring that she couldn’t leave behind.
He looked up into her eyes. They were so fucking blue that he swore he was drowning.
“I don’t want to forget you,” she said.