CHAPTER NINE
SHEFOUNDHIM the next morning, early, in the gymnasium. He stood in the centre of the boxing ring, punching the bag hard, rhythmically. Over and over until it shook uncontrollably. He was naked except for a pair of low-slung shorts, so she stood watching in awe of each rippling muscle beneath his bronzed, sheening skin as he moved swiftly, his feet almost dancing every time he repositioned himself.
He punched the bag as though he hated it. As though it were a vile beast and he the only person who could defend humanity against it. Again and again his fists pounded the black leather, his face a study in concentrated rage, and Sienna’s awe, at some point, gave way to concern, so she took a step deeper into the room and cleared her throat. He punched the bag once more then dropped his hand, turning to face her, anger lining his eyes and mouth, so he turned away, reached for a towel and wiped his face, as if he wanted to hide the strength of that emotion from her.
She waited, heart pounding, a cascade of emotions rioting through her—admiration at the beauty of his physicality, the strength of his frame and musculature, but also unease, because she’d sensed something within him, something dark and untamed, that made her pulse run wild.
It wasn’t that she was afraid. She was fascinated. The same desire to understand him ran through Sienna as he’d claimed to feel the day before. His body was perfection, and it had spent the night making hers soar, sending her into the heavens again and again, but it was also, undeniably, a weapon, capable of inflicting great harm.
She eyed his scars with renewed interest. A beer bottle had caused the one on his chest. But what about the mark on his hip? And the scar on the back of his hand? There was a chink in his nose too, as though it had been broken, possibly more than once.
‘A hobby of yours?’ She kept her voice light, somehow understanding he wouldn’t tolerate her interrogation as well as she had his.
‘Exercise.’
She moved closer, breathing in the masculine fragrance of the gym, her eyes locked to his, not looking away. She wasn’t afraid of him. In fact, since meeting Alejandro, Sienna had felt emboldened in a new and exciting way—what else explained her decision to fly here and proposition him as she had? That same spirit of strength moved in her now.
‘You seem angry.’
‘I’m not.’ It was clearly a lie.
She eyed the ring thoughtfully, then pushed apart the two middle ropes, stepping into it with her bare feet. She’d taken a moment to pull on one of his shirts, and she was glad, because she wanted to question him without the distraction of too much skin—his near nudity was distracting enough, but the way he looked at her made it impossible to think straight.
‘I work out most mornings.’
‘That explains this.’ She lifted a finger, running it over his chest, feeling the ridges there, a sensual smile on her lips. She drifted her finger sideways then, catching the end of his scar, hovering her finger over it, watching him, so she saw the moment his eyes shuttered to her, pushing her away, blocking her out.
She ignored the uncertainty in her gut.
‘You said it was a bottle?’
He made a grunting noise of agreement, but didn’t move.
‘And a drunk?’
This time he tilted his head in what she took to be a tight nod of agreement.
‘And so you got good at fighting.’
His lips shifted as though he was grinding his teeth. ‘It was necessary.’
‘Why?’
His eyes bore into hers and for a moment she thought he wasn’t going to answer. And when he spoke, his voice was completely wiped of emotion. ‘Because, Sienna, when you live on the streets, being able to defend yourself is not optional.’
Confusion arrowed through her. ‘You—went to school with Luca.’
He nodded. ‘So?’
‘It’s a very exclusive school. That’s how you met.’
‘Yes.’
‘And you also lived on the streets?’
He wiped his shoulders with the towel, stepping backwards and dislodging her contact.
But she was filled with curiosity and, suddenly, it was imperative that she know more. ‘How do you go from being a street kid to attending a school like that? And why in England? And how did you end up on the streets? What happened to your parents?’