She watched as Dakota got in front of him, talking earnestly and gesturing. Cade handed Merrick water, and Dallas watched closely as the ringside doctor assessed the cut over Merrick’s eye and applied Vaseline to stop the bleeding.
“What is Dakota saying to him?” Elle asked anxiously.
“He’s just pumping him up. Telling him to stay on his feet and not to let Lash take him down. Merrick keeps the advantage if he stays off the mat.”
“Who won that round?”
Catherine’s lips tightened. “I don’t know. It was close. It might go to Lash because of that last thirty seconds. He landed a lot of punches, and he gets points for the takedown.”
“Damn,” Elle swore.
Catherine burst out laughing. “I do believe that’s the first time I’ve ever heard you say a cuss word. Stick with us, kid. We’ll have you swearing like a sailor before long.”
All too soon, the bell rang, signaling the start of the second round. Lash came out with more determination, calmer, more focused. He seemed to have gotten his frustration under control, and he looked…cold and deadly.
Merrick appeared unruffled. But the cut above his eye bothered Elle. The fact that Lash had made him bleed. It didn’t matter that there was as much of Lash’s blood coating the mat as there was of Merrick’s. She saw only Merrick’s, and she flinched with every blow that Lash landed.
“I give that round to Merrick,” Catherine said, edging close to Elle when the second round was over.”
“I wish it was over,” Elle said, her stomach in a vicious knot. “I wish he’d knock him out so this would be over!”
“You and me both!”
The third round, Merrick started to show wear. Up to then, he’d been fresh, almost robotically so. Untouchable. He moved slower, and Lash, sensing his opponent’s change in strength, began pressing. Taking him to the mat more. Merrick bounced up. Lash took him down.
In the fourth round, Merrick showed a resurgence, and Lash began to fray. Elle was beside herself. She knew many fights went the full five rounds, but they were often brutal, bloody matches of endurance.
She sagged when the bell rang, ending the round, and the fighters returned to their corners. Both men looked worn, and fatigue was starting to show in their movements.
“Tied,” Catherine said grimly. “This last round is it. Merrick’s either got to have a dominating round or knock him out. He’s likely to lose in a coin flip because the edge will go to the champion. And if Merrick did get the decision, there’ll always be question regarding his title worthiness. Lash will say he was robbed.”
Elle closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as the final round began. The two fighters touched gloves in a show of respect and then warily began circling each other.
Merrick drove Lash back against the wall of the cage, connecting with a series of punches that had Lash off balance. Lash wrapped Merrick up, defending himself against the blows and then, with a leg sweep, took Merrick down.
Elle lunged forward, screaming Merrick’s name. “Get up! Get up! Don’t let him have your back.”
Oh God, it didn’t look good. Lash had a choke hold, and the entire arena buzzed as they sensed a dramatic end to an epic battle between two of the best fighters in the world.
Merrick had his hand underneath Lash’s arm, and he pried, gradually exerting enough pressure to loosen the hold. How Merrick had any strength left was beyond her. He had to be running on sheer grit and determination.
“Holy shit, he’s getting out!” Catherine cried. “He’s broken the hold! Lash isn’t going to get the submission!”
Merrick rotated around, grasping Lash’s wrist and twisting into an arm bar. He planted his foot on Lash’s shoulder and anchored the hold, his face drawn in grim determination.
“Oh my God,” Elle whispered. “He’s going to tap. Merrick’s going to make him tap!”
She held her breath and glanced up at the clock. Her heart sank. Only ten seconds left. Surely Lash could hold out that long. The
Merrick’s lips formed a tight line, and he exerted more pressure, his entire body straining. Lash’s face was creased in agony, and his free hand balled into a tight fist, a seeming vow not to tap.
Five. Four…
Lash’s fist loosened. His palm went flat on the mat.
Three…two…
He tapped three times in rapid succession, and the arena erupted as the referee threw himself between Merrick and Lash to end the fight.
Elle stood there, numb, as she stared at the crowd going crazy. Catherine hugged her and whirled her around, and still Elle stared dumbly at the ring, watching as Merrick raised his hands in victory while Lash’s people rushed in to assess his injuries.
“Oh my God,” she whispered. “He did it!”
“Hell yeah, he did!” Catherine shouted.
Cade and Dallas ran into the ring and picked Merrick up, swinging him around. Dakota was jumping around, slapping his towel over Merrick’s shoulders.
Excitement invaded Elle’s veins as realization sank in. Merrick was the World Heavyweight Champion! He’d done it!
And then Merrick tapped Cade on the shoulder and motioned for him and Dallas to put him down. Merrick walked to the edge of the ring directly in front of where Elle and Catherine sat, and then he pointed at Elle and crooked his finger to her.
Her eyes widened. “Me?” she mouthed.
Merrick smiled and nodded.
The two guards who’d escorted Elle to her seat and had remained close stepped forward to flank her, and then they walked her up to the cage and lifted her up so she could go inside.
As soon as she stumbled toward Merrick, he met her halfway and enfolded her in his arms. He picked her up and swung her round and round.
With the crowd roaring their approval, he let her slide down his sweaty, bloody body, and then he fused his mouth to hers in a long, breathless kiss. And God help her, but she kissed him right back there in front of a million viewers.
C H A P T E R T H I R T Y - E I G H T
THE DRESSING ROOM WAS INSANITY. Champagne was sprayed everywhere and on anyone in close proximity. As soon as the media had been allowed access, Cade herded Elle into one of the smaller changing rooms.
It was a bit like closing the barn door after the horse already got out. Merrick had just kissed her in plain view of not only those in the arena but the millions watching the fight on pay per view. But Cade was adamant that he and Merrick both didn’t want her directly exposed to the media.
So she rolled her eyes and sat while the insanity went on outside the door. To her surprise, a mere twenty minutes later, the door burst open and Merrick came in, Cade close on his heels.
Without a word, Merrick stalked to where she sat in a chair across the room and hauled her up and into his arms. His mouth crushed down over hers with bruising force that left her gasping for breath.
His need was a tangible thing, thick in the air. It vibrated from him in waves.
“Need you,” he growled against her mouth. “Right here. Right now. Jesus, baby. I need you.”
Her heart pounded like a freight train, but she put her arms around him, holding him close, and she murmured next to his ear, “Okay, then. Okay. I’m here. Take me, Merrick. Take what you need.”
He set her down only long enough to free himself from the trunks he wore and to reach underneath the filmy skirt she wore and yank away her underwear.
