All of this. Is for you. For us.”

Dakota burst into the room followed closely by Cathy.

“It’s time, Merrick. I’m going to have Cathy take Elle to her seat, and she’s going to stay with her for the fight. Front row. She’ll be close. Cade and Dallas are going to stay in the corner with me.”

Merrick nodded and then leaned forward again to claim Elle’s mouth in a lusty, possessive kiss that left her breathless.

“Win,” she whispered. “Do it for you, Merrick. Nobody else.”

Elle and Catherine were escorted ringside by two security guards. Catherine latched onto her hand and pulled her up close while the two guards moved only a short distance away, flanking the women.

“I’ve never been so oh-my-God nervous in my life!” Catherine yelled in Elle’s ear. “This is it, Elle. This is what he’s worked for over so many years.”

“He’s going to win,” Elle said with calm she didn’t feel.

All she could think was what if he didn’t win? Every plan, every action over the last month had been made with the assumption that Merrick would win the title.

The three had picked out a home in Denver. Dakota and Catherine had begun negotiations on a training facility. Their house in Grand Junction had been put up for sale, and Cade had sold his business.

Even Charlie was making the move to Denver and would be a part of Merrick’s training team.

The only dim spot in the last weeks was the fallout from Elle’s attack, and she’d worried endlessly that it would prove to be a huge distraction for Merrick and split his concentration at a time it had to be completely focused.

Her attacker had survived, but fortunately for Elle, he confessed everything. He pled guilty to assault, and he testified against the man Cade and Merrick had captured stealing the car. Other than statements provided by all three of them, nothing further was to be done, and they’d been able to push the incident from their minds.

The flurry of activity surrounding the move and Cade selling their home and business had helped to distract Elle so she didn’t spend much time dwelling on the terror of what had happened to her.

But only in the last week, three weeks after the attack, had the bruising finally faded, and she could move without pain or discomfort.

Thank God she’d healed before the fight because it was a madhouse, and if Merrick won? There was going to be mad hugging and even madder celebration.

Tonight, because Merrick was the contender, he’d enter the ring first. When the lights dimmed and the first strains of Merrick’s entry song began, goose bumps chased up Elle’s arms. She yanked her gaze up the aisle, straining to get a glimpse of Merrick when he appeared.

His nickname still made her giggle. Merrick “The Hit Man” Sullivan. It sounded so…mafia. But he’d gained the nickname because it was said he had lead fists and, with one well-placed punch, could drop a much larger guy like a stone.

Merrick began his jaunt down to the ring, surrounded by Dakota, Cade, Dallas and Charlie along with several security guards. He looked loose, but more important, he looked focused and calm. Confident.

He walked by Elle without a glance, something she didn’t take offense to. His gaze was riveted to the ring, and she doubted he even saw her. This was one time she wanted to be invisible. She wanted nothing to distract him from his goal.

The crowd roared when Merrick was introduced, and Merrick raised his gloved hands in the air, rotating in a 360, inciting the crowd to yell even louder.

Her heart surged with pride. This was her man.

Her gaze slid to Cade a short distance from Merrick, at the confidence in his eyes. Confidence radiated from every member of Merrick’s camp. Then, to her surprise, Cade found her in the crowd, and he winked at her.

Not caring who saw or what they made of it, she blew Cade a kiss. To her utter shock, Merrick turned, touched two fingers to his lips and then extended his arm toward her.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode right out of her chest. Automatically she blew him a kiss in return, and he made a show of catching it and pressing it to his chest.

It was so deeply romantic and public that her knees threatened to turn to jelly.

Once again the lights went down, dousing the arena in darkness. The spotlight swung to where Lash was making his appearance, and the crowd erupted just as the first strains of his music began blaring.

Her stomach twisted into nervous knots. Lash was huge. And mean-looking. He looked intensely focused and ready to tear Merrick apart.

The belt he wore around his waist shone in the spotlight. He took his time walking down the pathway to the ring and stopped for the referee to check his gloves. Then he stepped into the ring, and the announcer began the impressive introduction of the World’s Heavyweight Champion.

Elle felt like she wanted to puke. She wasn’t sure she could watch this.

When the two men met in the center of the ring, Elle blinked, her eyes widening as she realized that Merrick was every bit as big as Lash. The champion just looked so intimidating to her, but for the first time, she looked at Merrick the way most other people likely viewed him.

He was big, heavily muscled, and he looked like a complete badass.

Would she have ever given him a second glance if they hadn’t met the way they had? If he hadn’t been so kind and gentle with her?

“Here they go!” Catherine shouted next to her.

Elle blinked again, realizing the bell had rung and the two men were dancing around each other in the ring. Oh shit. It was here. The culmination of all Merrick’s training. All his hard work. It came down to tonight. One night. One fight. Everything was on the line.

Lash landed the first punch, snapping Merrick’s head back. Elle flinched and looked away but quickly yanked her gaze back to the ring to see Merrick follow up with a flurry of punches that drove Lash back against the cage.

Her own fist curled into a tight ball, and she found herself holding her breath.

“Lash will never beat him in a boxing match,” Catherine yelled. “The only way he can win is to get Merrick on the ground. If Merrick can stay on his feet, he’ll win this quickly.”

Elle grabbed hold of Catherine’s confidence and held tightly to it. She was so nervous and uptight that each second was an eternity. She’d never felt so miserable in her life. The anticipation was agony. The knowledge that one lucky punch could kill Merrick’s dreams. One slip and Lash could get him in a hold, forcing him to tap.

Merrick drew blood with a forceful jab, opening up a cut on Lash’s cheek. But then Lash landed a left hook that sent Merrick reeling back, and Elle saw blood above Merrick’s left eye.

Shit.

Lash made several attempts to take Merrick down, but each time, Merrick sprawled, making it impossible for the other man to take him to the mat. It was obvious that Lash was getting frustrated, and Elle saw it as a positive sign that Merrick was still focused and calm.

At thirty seconds left in the first round, Merrick went for the kill shot, and Lash dodged and lunged forward, slamming Merrick onto the mat. Elle’s throat hurt, and she realized she’d yelled at the top of her lungs the moment Merrick went down.

“He’s okay. He’s okay,” Catherine hollered next to her ear. “Lash doesn’t have his back. He doesn’t have position.”

The two men scrambled and rolled, a flurry of bodies as they grappled, twisted and turned. Merrick suffered a series of blows to the head and side that had Elle wincing.

She turned anxiously to the clock, counting down the seconds until the end of the round.

Hold on. Hold on.

The chant echoed through her mind as she watched, unable to look away as Merrick’s blood smeared onto the mat.

Finally the bell sounded, and the referee pulled Lash off Merrick. Merrick rolled to his feet, quickly jumping up. Elle wasn’t sure if he truly wasn’t affected by the pounding he’d just taken or if he just wanted to get into Lash’s head by making him think he wasn’t.

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