Got A Hold On You (Ringside Romance) (23 page)

Bernie shoved at the guy. “Come on. Move.”

“I’ll get the story!” the photographer shouted as
Bernie dragged him by the collar down the hall. “I’ll find out who she really
is. Some think she’s Monica Moonbeam! Did you know she’s already married?
That’s bigamy. You could go to jail for—”

He slammed the door. “Don’t these people have anything
better to do?”

“Who was that?”

“Paparazzi. They’re trying to figure out who you are.”

Her eyes popped wide, and she clutched the material of
her robe with white-knuckled fingers.

“Don’t worry, I’m not talking. Here are your clothes.”
He offered her the garment bag.

She stared at it as if he held a hand grenade minus
the pin.

“What? Take it.”

“Without my mask and feathers, they’ll know who I am.”

“Judas Priest, woman, what’s the big deal?” He tossed
the bag onto the bed and unzipped it with a jerk.

“I’ll be the laughingstock of the financial industry.
I’ll lose my job, my mother will never speak to me again, and I can kiss my
engagement goodbye.”

“Pre-engagement,” he corrected.

“My whole life will be trashed. My well-planned,
perfect life,” she whispered.

She gently touched his arm. He struggled to breathe.

“Don’t you see? No one can know who I really am. No
one.”

He wanted to jerk away, tell her to get her hands off
of him. It’s not like she wanted to touch him. Jack and this whole business
repulsed her. She couldn’t stand being a part of it. Wasn’t that why she was
embarrassed and ashamed to let anyone know who she really was?

“Then go on and get back into your costume.” He
snatched his jeans and shirt from the garment bag. “Your secret’s safe with
me.”

Chapter Twelve
 

They drove home in record time to an awaiting and
anxious Uncle Joe, and got down to business as usual—complete and utter
lunacy.

“I’ve heard of cage matches, but this is insane,” Jack
said from across the office.

Frankie stared at Uncle Joe still shocked by his
words. Kidnapping. Blackmail. Escape. All part of next Tuesday night’s show
which they hoped to use as a teaser for an upcoming pay per view.

“Look at the figures! Look!” Uncle Joe raced over and
dropped a stack of pink message slips in her lap. “The phone hasn’t stopped
ringing since Tatianna joined the promotion. Sponsors are banging down our
doors. That means more money for production of action figures, shirts, and
whips.”

“Uncle Joe!” she admonished. “You cannot market whips
to children.”

“But they love you, Frankie. They worship the ground
you walk on. They want to be just like you.”

Jack snorted.

She slapped the message slips on Uncle Joe’s desk. “No
whips.”

“But Frankie—”

“Where’s your sense of decency? You’re going too far,
and I won’t be a part of it.”

“I’ll find another Tatianna,” he said with a pout.

“No, you won’t,” Jack threatened from the corner.

His nod of support warmed her insides. They were on
the same side for once, and it felt good.

“You two are going to be the end of me.” Uncle Joe
paced to his swivel chair and collapsed. “Fine. No whips. But I’m going ahead
with the lawn-mower tattoos. Basher fans will love those.”

Frankie rolled her eyes.

“Who’s playing Tiger Man?” Jack asked, leaning against
the built-in bookshelves.

He wore black jeans today, still a size too tight in
her opinion. At least the loose-fitting, gray button-down shirt masked his hard
and incredibly touchable chest.

“New talent. Hired him last week,” Uncle Joe said.
“Hank ‘The Hawk’ Rogers. Ever hear of him?”

“Nope.”

Uncle Joe’s eyes gleamed. Something was up. Frankie could
feel it. She glanced at Jack, but he didn’t seem to think anything was strange.
She’d grown used to reading his expressions and guessing his thoughts.

“Hank’s been with the Southern Alliance for the last
five years. Big guy, six seven, four hundred and ten pounds.
Impressive-looking.”

“What’s the angle?” Jack pressed.

“You and Tatianna come out to announce the main event.
Tiger Man shows up and challenges you for his woman.”

Panic burned in her belly. “Jack’s still recovering.
He’s not supposed to fight for another week.”

“He won’t have to fight. Not yet. Tiger Man will
challenge him to a match at the Summer Suplex Slammer in two weeks. Jack agrees
but Tiger Man kidnaps Tatianna anyway, to make sure Black Jack will show.”

“The whole kidnapping part makes me nervous,” she
said, nibbling her lower lip.

“We can play that out ten ways to Sunday. He kidnaps
you, holds you for ransom and Jack makes a tear-jerking appeal. Real, heart
wrenching drama!”

Uncle Joe leaned back in his chair and tugged on the
knot of his tie.

She stared him down. “What aren’t you telling us?”

“You like the story, don’t you? The writers you hired
are doing an excellent job coming up with fresh angles. I can’t thank you
enough for—”

“Stop stalling,” she demanded.

“We have to tape it tonight.”

“We just got home,” she protested. “Can’t you schedule
it for next week?”

“I’ve got fifteen new sponsors interested in the
Summer Suplex Slammer. Fifteen! After Tiger Man’s challenge airs, they’ll all
lock in. One of the sponsors is a new candy company that makes licorice in the
shape of our very own superstars.”

“Great, they can bite off my head when I lose,” Jack
said.

“Doesn’t anyone ever get a break around here? You
know, down time?” she said.

“Not when the company’s on the line,” Uncle Joe said.

Not when my life is at risk, she heard. Frankie
searched Jack’s eyes. He studied the floor.

“Are you okay with this?” she asked.

“I’ve got nothing better to do.” He glanced up. “What
about you? I know you have a date with your fiancé.”

“Tomorrow.”

“Then there’s no problem. Sully’s right. It’s a good
angle.”

“But,” she hesitated, remembering the pain creasing
his face when he struggled to get out of bed. She squared off at Uncle Joe.
“Jack won’t be fighting?”

“Not tonight.”

“I have your word?”

He narrowed his eyes at her. “Whose side are you on,
anyway?”

“Your word, Uncle Joe.”

“Yes, you have my word.”

“What time is the taping?”

“Seven, in St. Louis.”

“Great. More travel.” She shook her head.

“At least we don’t have to worry about our pilot
getting waylaid by a pair of snake eyes,” Jack offered.

She couldn’t help but smile. It had been a hell of a
night. One she wouldn’t forget for a long time.

“You’ve made our travel arrangements?” Frankie asked.

“Fly out at two, flight back at ten-thirty tonight.”
Uncle Joe slapped plane tickets on his desk.

She picked one up. “Good, I’ll be back in time.”

Jack walked up behind her, his scent taunting her
senses. “In plenty of time for your date tomorrow night.”

She closed her eyes, felt the warmth of his breath
against her neck even though she knew he wasn’t standing that close.

“Right, in time for my date,” she repeated. Heavens,
what was she going to tell Bradley? She surely wasn’t going to tell him about
the incendiary burn that raged through her body whenever Jack Hudson got too
close.

“I’ve got to stop by the apartment. Take a shower,”
she said.

“I’ll pick you up in an hour,” Jack said.

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

He snatched his ticket off the desk and left. She took
a few deep breaths, shoved her ticket into her purse and glanced at her uncle.
“I’m not coming in tomorrow. I’ll see you Monday, then?”

He nodded, nibbling on his thumbnail.

“You okay?” she asked.

“Fine. Fine.” He yanked his finger away from his mouth
and twirled his tie.

“Uncle Joe, if there’s anything you want to tell me,
anything at all...”

“No, nothing to tell. You’d better get going.” He
placed his arm around her shoulder and guided her to the door.

“You’ll be okay?” she asked.

“Stop worrying. I’ve got Maxine to take care of me.”

She gave him a hug and headed to the elevator.
Something fluttered in her belly, call it instinct or panic or utter
exhaustion. She wasn’t sure. But something was definitely off.

A shower, all would be right with the world after a
quick, warm shower and a check-in phone call to Bradley. No, she really didn’t
have time for that, not now. She’d call him tomorrow morning after she returned
home and had settled in, after she’d had a break from Jack.

She ambled down the hall to the elevators, wondering
how she’d developed a kinship to a professional wrestler, and not just any
wrestler. She’d somehow befriended tough and sexy Black Jack Hudson.

Working closely tended to do that to people. That’s
how she and Bradley had formed their partnership. They’d bonded during an
audit. Yet it took months before she felt as comfortable with Bradley as she
had in a few days with Jack. Must be the physical nature of the job. Her heart
skipped the memory of Jack lying beside her in bed. It broke into a frantic
mariachi beat at the memory of her hands caressing his bare chest, the feel of
his warm skin against her fingertips, the slight throb pulsating between her
legs.

She dug in her purse for mints.

The elevator doors popped open and Maxine stormed out.

“Hey, Max.”

Max pushed past her. “Would love to catch up on the
wedding night but I’ve got a serious bone to pick with that crazy uncle of
yours,” she said, marching down the hall. “One of these days he’s going to go
too far. Too damned far!”

“Max, wait—”

The older woman waved her off and disappeared around
the corner.

That didn’t sound good. Frankie thumbed the elevator
button. Oh well, if anyone could keep Uncle Joe in line it was a tough bird
like Max.

***

 

Jack tapped the knee brace hidden beneath his black
stirrup pants. The joint felt strange today, stranger than usual. Good thing he
wasn’t fighting. He plucked his Stetson off the locker room bench and fingered
the photograph hidden inside the brim. A reminder of what he was working for,
his dream, a normal life.

Okay, so his plan for Tatianna to screw up had
crumbled to pieces, but something else would present itself. It had to. He
hadn’t paid his dues for the past twenty years to have Sully pull the leash
tighter around his neck. Sooner or later Jack would gain his freedom.

At least the flight had been easy. “Easy” being a
relative term. Every time his arm brushed against Frankie’s his body lit with
need. Her scent drove him mad, reminding him of satin sheets and her creamy
white skin peeking out from beneath mountains of bubbles.

Attraction was one thing, but obsession? He couldn’t
seem to get her off his mind. It didn’t help that he’d been with her nearly
every waking moment for the past twenty-four hours. After today they’d have a
good three-day break from each other and Jack could get his perspective back.

He was a grown man with needs. It was only natural to
be physically drawn to a woman like Frankie, a voluptuous, self-confident woman
with soft skin and fascinating, iridescent eyes. A woman who had no idea how
attractive she really was.

“You ready?” Billings said from the door.

“Yeah, sure.”

Following Billings into the hallway, he spotted
Frankie sitting on a table swinging her spiked heels. Even dressed in that
ridiculous costume she set his heart racing double time.

Sex. That was it. He needed to get laid. He’d call
Tina. She was always willing and able whenever he came to town. No strings
attached.

He walked up to Frankie and she glanced at him, her
eyes smiling beneath the mask. He smiled back. He wouldn’t be calling Tina
tonight, or tomorrow, or any other day.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hi.” She fingered the row of feathers trimming her
skirt.

“You holding up?”

“Sure.”

“You guys know the drill,” Billings instructed. “I’ll
signal from the curtain and you make your entrance. Karl will hand you the mic as
you approach the ring. I gave Tatianna the script. She’s been practicing. They
need me out front.” He raced off.

“So how does it look?” he asked as Frankie studied the
sheet of paper.

“Okay, I guess. I’m not sure I get the part about me
and Tiger Man mating in the center of the ring.”

“What?” He snatched the script out of her hands and
she burst out laughing.

“Very funny.” He gently nudged her shoulder.

“Hey, watch it or I’ll bite your finger off.”

“Promises, promises.”

She smiled and his heart leapt.

It amazed him how right this felt, how natural, like
long-time friends kidding and joking.

How could that be? He didn’t have any life-long
friends, with the exception of Butch. Then again, Butch’s role was more mentor
than friend. Jack had known since he was a kid that he was meant to be a loner.

Frankie swung her feet and sighed.

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“Exhausted.”

“We’ll get some time off after tonight.”

“I need it. I haven’t see Mom in three weeks.”

“You still see your mom?”

She glanced up “Sure. Mom expects a visit twice a
month and a phone call on Tuesday and Friday. It’s in the script,” she joked.
“Don’t you talk to your parents?”

He looked away. “Nah. I left when I was eighteen.
Haven’t been back.”

“But you call, right?”

He shrugged. “The best day of their life was when I
joined the pro circuit.”

“I’m sure that’s not true.” She touched his arm, and a
ball formed in his chest. “You’re their son. I’m sure they miss you.”

He cleared his throat. “Doesn’t matter.” Glancing at
the script, he ached for her to release her hold on his arm, on his heart.

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