Below the Belt Read Online Free PDF Page A

for him, to reclaim his reputation.
    Since it wasn’t too hot a day yet, they’d pushed the folding doors that formed one wall of the gym all the way open, and Ray sauntered straight out to where a sun lounger waited beside the pool. She watched him stretch out, momentarily toying with the idea of joining him and taking a break. But she had more work to do.
    She hit the bag with another round of punches then, just for fun, some kicks. There was nothing like the buzz she got from the power of a great roundhouse kick slamming into the bag.
    She wiped sweat from her brow and caught her breath. Turning, she leaned her back against the heavy long bag and opened her mouth to start giving Ray shit for having less stamina than a girl. And promptly shut it again when she registered who was standing beside the pool talking to him.
    Cooper Fitzgerald.
    Just like last time, she felt instantly at a disadvantage as she took in his designer denim jeans and crisp white linen shirt. His eyes were hidden behind dark sunglasses, and his hair looked as though it had been cut by one of those fancy hairstylists to the stars. He looked like a million bucks, while she was covered in sweat and bruises.
    She pushed herself away from the bag and turned her back on both men. She didn’t care that he was here. He didn’t matter. And it didn’t matter that he’d seen her lose the other night.
    Concentrating on her combinations with renewed determination, she attacked the bag some more, trying to keep all of her grandfather’s advice top of mind: keep your guard hand up; shuffle forward, never step; snap your punches, don’t push them; punch through your opponent, not into her .
    After four minutes of hard work, she paused again.
    He was still there, she could sense him. Damn him. Why didn’t he get his business with Ray over with and leave?
    Sucking much-needed air into her lungs, she began to rain kicks on the bag—a snap kick from the knee, then another thundering roundhouse and a spinning back kick that sent the bag swinging.
    “That’s some kick you’ve got there.”
    She ignored him. Asshole.
    “What style do you do, Tae Kwon Do? Maui Thai?”
    She kneed the bag and followed up with some elbow work.
    “Tae Kwon Do. State champion three years in a row, right, Jimmy?” Ray answered for her.
    She spun another kick into the bag. “Two years,” she corrected.
    “You’re good,” Cooper said.
    Because she was out of breath and gasping for a drink, she stopped and tugged one of her gloves off so she could grab the water bottle.
    “Thanks. Coming from you, it means so much,” she said.
    He lifted an eyebrow at her sarcasm and, even though he was wearing those dark sunglasses, she could feel his gaze slide over her body. She felt a ridiculous, completely unwelcome surge of awareness and covered by throwing back her head and gulping water.
    “How are you pulling up after your fight?” he asked.
    She swallowed then brushed at the sweat beading her forehead. She knew exactly how she looked: red in the face, shiny with exertion, hair stuck to her forehead and neck. She was also sporting one badly bruised eye, a swollen lip and numerous bruises across her belly and ribs.
    “I’m fine,” she said. She didn’t want to talk about the fight.
    “You found yourself a trainer yet?”
    “What is this, twenty questions?” she asked, reaching for her towel.
    “Just wondering if you’ve got someone other than that old man to tell you where you’re going wrong,” he said.
    Jamie’s hands curled into the towel. If he had any idea who her grandfather was, he’d know how stupid he sounded right now. But telling him would open a can of worms she wasn’t ready to deal with yet. She was going to face the boxing world down one day—but it would be on her terms, on her schedule.
    “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about me,” she said. “I’ll get sick of this boxing thing soon enough and go back to my needlework and cookie-baking