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The tiny woman had run circles around every one of his friends from the moment she’d stepped into the back room of the speakeasy last night after Dmitry nearly killed himself fighting. She was nothing if not efficient, and amazing to watch in her element. Her tight, sexy, orange-and-pink dress wasn’t remotely suitable for attending an underground fight, but it was certainly nice to look at as far as Leo was concerned.
He’d stood behind her during the latest hours of the night watching her gorgeous blonde hair bounce across her back. When she’d grown tired of tucking it behind her ears, she lifted her arms above her head and clipped the thick curls at the base of her neck.
He moaned thinking about how the action exposed her pale skin to his view. Every time she’d glanced his way, she left him tongue-tied with those deep blue eyes of hers. Her efficiency and the way she dashed around her clinic was incongruent with her tiny stature. The woman was a foot shorter than his own six four. But her curves were amazing.
Yep. She’d had him in stitches for the last eight hours. And he owed her big time. She saved Dmitry’s life. Maybe his kidney injury wasn’t as bad as originally expected, but the commotion she created to get him out of the back of the speakeasy undoubtedly kept any of a number of assholes inside from getting their hands on him.
And there was no shortage of people who wanted a piece of Dmitry Volikov.
Anton Yenin for starters. The leader of the Russian Mafia in Vegas had brought Dmitry, Leo, and four other fighters over from Russia twelve years ago. Yenin was hot on their asses since being released from jail, and it seemed he would stop at nothing to get them back under his thumb.
When Yenin had gone to jail six months ago, two of Leo’s friends, Dmitry and Mikhail, immediately headed for Chicago to fight under Abram Gromov. Leo couldn’t blame them. He too was done with Yenin’s antics. But the timing hadn’t been right. He had responsibilities in Vegas that extended beyond his fighting, so he’d stuck it out in Sin City the entire time Yenin had been locked up. He’d arrived in Chicago two weeks ago, in time to help Dmitry get through last night’s victory and get his woman out of town before Yenin caught up with him.
A noise to Leo’s left had him bolting upright and straightening his spine as Dr. Schwan entered the room. It was her office after all. She’d kindly allowed him to stay all night with Dmitry and his girlfriend, Lauren.
In reality, she was probably freaked out from all the commotion. The last thing Leo wanted to do was appear to be as exhausted as he felt. He didn’t deserve to be as tired as this little spitfire.
“Your friend is lucky.” Katie plopped down on her leather desk chair, rolling her head back and forth and wincing with every movement.
The office was too small for the amount of secondhand furniture inside. The leather love seat was smashed up against one wall inside the door. The beat-up, wooden desk faced the door and was too small to hold the stacks of files and papers precariously placed on every corner and threatening to fall. There was an olive-green, fiberglass chair angled toward the desk, fighting for space with the sofa. A bookshelf, also old and nicked in several places, filled the wall across from the love seat. The medical titles of each thick volume made him curl his nose. Did she read all that for pleasure? Or reference?
He settled his gaze on her, breathing in the musty scent of old carpet and mold. This was a free clinic, not the Ritz. “Yeah. I know. Thanks for letting us stay here all night. It was a total imposition on you, and we appreciate it.”
She shook her head. “I’m not talking about whatever mob guys are hot on your tails. I’m talking about his kidney.”
“For the record, we’re not criminals. Yes, there’s a misunderstanding with the Russian Mafia, but—”
She held up a hand, palm out. “Please, I don’t want to know any more of the details.”
“Right. Of course. So, is he stable enough to travel this morning? The sooner he and Lauren get on a plane out of this country, the better.”
She sighed. “Shockingly. Though I can’t explain it. It makes no sense. You say he was first injured twelve days ago?”
“Yes. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it seemed at the time.” The doc who checked him over thought so, but the man was growing old. Maybe he made a mistake.
Leo only half believed that to be possible. He’d seen how much pain Dmitry was in after getting jumped in the alley two weeks ago. And he’d watched his friend’s face contort even more last night after getting punched in the side. Either the man had an incredible ability to fake improvement, or he was superhuman. Because the last time Leo checked on him an hour ago, Dmitry was very much improved.
Dr. Katie glanced down at some paperwork in front of her and frowned.
“Something wrong?”
She sighed, dropped the sheets of paper on her desk, slumped in her chair, and rubbed a hand over her face. “Nah. I’m just exhausted.”
Before Leo had a chance to comment further, a loud bellow from the front of her clinic made him jump to his feet. He took two strides to reach her office door, but she was hot on his tail, wrapping her fingers around his forearm before he could wrench it open.
He turned back toward her, grabbed her by the waist, and lifted her off the ground to set her against the wall next to the door. Jesus. She didn’t weigh more than one ten. After he pressed his body against hers to keep her from moving, he narrowed his gaze. “Stay here. Don’t move. Let me check it out.”
She squirmed against him and set her hands on his chest. “Get a grip, big guy. It’s not for you.”
A loud voice yelled again. “Katie?”
Leo lifted a brow, still unsure if he should trust the newcomer. He didn’t like the sound of the guy’s voice even if he was there to see Katie. Had they failed to lock the front door in the middle of the night?
Katie pressed against him again, but she was no match for his strength. “Leo. Stop it. Let me go. I need to talk to him.”
“Him who? He doesn’t sound like a nice guy.”
She rolled her eyes. “You don’t know the half of it.” The little pixie went limp, slipped down the wall and under his arm, and bolted out the door before he could stop her.
“Shit,” he muttered.
She turned around as he stepped into the hall and held up a hand. “Stay. Let me handle Marshall.”
Marshall? Who the hell was Marshall?
Leo nodded, sensing he was in for a fight if he didn’t heed her advice. He crossed his arms and planted his feet wide, leaning against the wall outside her small office. He knew good and well he was being a cocky bastard, but who the fuck barged into her clinic at this hour of the morning and started yelling?
“Katie, are you back there? Why are so many lights on?” the voice demanded, growing closer.
Katie turned around and darted down the short hall toward the front of the clinic.
Leo swallowed hard as he watched her. She still wore the delicate gold sandals she’d had on last night, and her damn dress, for all its ridiculous flamboyant orange and pink stripes, hugged her body so perfectly he had to bite his tongue for the millionth time.
Fine. He’d let her step out front, but at the first sign of trouble…
∙•∙
“Marshall? What are you doing here? It’s barely six o’clock.” Katie was shocked to find Marshall Pierce standing in her waiting room after essentially abandoning her last night.
He didn’t answer. In fact, he looked angry. With her? He faced her head on and then glanced around her empty lobby, his hands fisted at his sides. He wore a pair of khaki pants and a blue-and-white-striped, button-down shirt with a designer emblem over his chest. Except for the fact that his hair was messy from running his fingers through it, he looked like he was headed for his exclusive yacht club—at six o’clock in the morning.
“Marshall?” she nudged, trying to get his attention.
“Where the hell did you go last night?”
“Me?” She pointed at herself. “Are you serious?”
“
Of course. I turned around, and you were nowhere to be found. How did you even get home?” He looked affronted. The same man who didn’t bother looking for her for a full eight hours after she supposedly went missing?
She ignored his question. “I think you’re confused. It’s you who disappeared. You were so wrapped up in that disgusting fight, I’m surprised you ever glanced over your shoulder. It seemed to me all you cared about was collecting your winnings.” She leaned against the edge of the Formica counter where her receptionist, Mandy, normally signed patients in—during regular hours.
Her hands shook with anger. How dare this asshole imply she was to blame for being left high and dry last night?
“Why didn’t you stay behind me?” He glanced up and down her frame, scrutinizing her, as if just noticing what she wore. “And why are you dressed for a day at the races at six in the morning?” He lifted his gaze to scan the rest of the room again. “In fact, why the hell are you downstairs at all instead of up in your apartment?”
Flames came out of her head. “Are you kidding?” She glanced down at her wrinkled dress and planted her feet to right herself to her full five-foot-four. She was no match for his nearly six feet, but suddenly he seemed rather short compared to the men she’d kept company with all night. His lanky body seemed incredibly weak this morning. The man had no muscles. He spent his hours with his head in a book.
How had she ever found him to be remotely attractive?
The man she’d left in her office would have been the polar opposite of what she normally found herself attracted to—until last night. And her opinion was completely reinforced this morning. Leo Gulin was built. Bulky muscles covered his entire body, making her want to run her hands over them to feel his sturdy strength and wipe away memories of ever having touched Marshall’s chest or even his hands.
She shuddered.
She realized several things at once. One, Marshall hadn’t noticed what she wore last night for their supposed date. He’d been so caught up in getting to the fight and ensuring he won that her bright dress hadn’t entered his radar. Dick.
Two, he had slept all night, not the least bit worried about her well-being until early this morning. It was surprising he’d shown up before noon.
And three, he was so self-important that it never dawned on him she might have a patient in her office. Why else would she be at work so early?
Marshall cocked his head to one side. “What’s gotten into you?”
“Me? Marshall, you need to leave. I’m exhausted. I don’t want to discuss this with you right now.” Besides, he was embarrassing her. She knew without a doubt Leo was lurking behind the door that led to her office and patient rooms. He could hear every word.
And Marshall wasn’t being quiet. “You owe me an explanation. I was worried about you.” He huffed, setting his hands on his hips.
“When did you start worrying about my welfare exactly? Because I’ve been here all night. Did you sleep well?”
“I slept fine. That’s not the point. You don’t just leave a bar when you’ve gone there with a date.”
“A date?” Her voice rose. “You call that a date? A date is dinner and a movie, not a night at some seedy underground illegal fight. And you’re really starting to piss me off. You left me, Marshall. Not the other way around. Go home.” She waved a hand in the air in front of him, taking in his clothes again. “Or go polish your yacht. I need a nap. I’ll have customers lined up outside soon.”
He flinched. “For your information, I was going to take you to breakfast. But obviously you’re in a mood this morning. And…” he leaned forward… “I don’t polish my own yacht. I have people who do it for me.”
“Marshall, just leave.” Her shoulders slumped. Why was he still standing in her clinic? He was an idiot. His parents were rich. He came from old money. In fact, he was so wealthy she shuddered to consider how much he’d bet on last night’s fight. Enough to make him sweat with nervousness.
Her mother thought he was the perfect match. But no way in hell would Katie ever marry such an asshole. Breakfast? Was he so fucking stupid it didn’t occur to him she normally saw patients on Saturday mornings? She’d never gone to breakfast with him or anyone on a Saturday.
She wanted to kick herself for getting into this situation in the first place. She’d been straddling two worlds, so to speak. The clinic was her life. Helping people was her passion. The fact that she’d ever for one moment thought to mollify her mother by dating this rich asshole made her cringe.
He’d never been right for her. They had nothing in common. He didn’t even approve of her job.
She was done. Way past done. She straightened her spine.
“It seems like maybe I should stay. You’re not thinking clearly. Did you drink too much?”
A deep voice behind her made her cringe. “It seems to me you should leave like the lady has requested several times, big guy.”
Leo.
Great.
The last thing Katie needed was to explain Leo’s presence to Marshall.
Marshall twisted to face Leo. “Who the fuck are you?”
Leo marched across the waiting room until he reached the front door. He didn’t speak until his palm was wrapped around the handle. “I’m a patient. I don’t have to answer that. Do you always harass doctors in the early hours of the morning?”
Marshall gasped, stomping closer to Leo—a man who was twice his size and had just referred to the skinny, rich asshole as “big guy,” the exact same term Katie had used minutes ago to refer to Leo.
She fought the urge to laugh. She really did need sleep.
At least Leo didn’t indicate there was anyone else in the building. Marshall would have a field day with that. He’d tell his parents, and hers too, before lunchtime. And then she’d be read the riot act for the billionth time for taking in strangers in the middle of the night.
Neither her parents nor his seemed to have any sense of her work at all. She was a physician first and foremost, and her calling to help the underprivileged citizens of Chicago had never been well received, especially by her mother.
“You don’t look sick,” Marshall retorted. And then he snapped his fingers. “Hey, I recognize you from last night. Did you fight? Are you the guy who won that kick-ass match? Volikov?”
He twisted to look at Katie again. “Did he get hurt?”
Leo cleared his throat. “You’ve got me mixed up with someone else, asshole. I didn’t fight anyone last night.”
It wasn’t a lie. It was Dmitry who had fought in the ring last night, though comparing their physiques, it would be easy to mix them up. Except Dmitry shaved his head.
She doubted Marshall had paid any attention to Dmitry’s baldness, however.
“Marshall,” she stepped forward, taking his arm and physically leading him toward the glass front door. “Go. I’m not talking to you anymore this morning. This man’s illness is none of your business.” She shoved Leo’s hand out of the way and opened the front door herself. “Go,” she repeated, pointing outside.
Unseasonably warm spring air wafted into her clinic.
Marshall stood his ground. “This isn’t over, Kathryn. Call me when you’re feeling more reasonable. My mother wants to have us over for dinner.”
“Marshall, there is no ‘us.’ There never was. There’s just you and whatever you want to do to steamroll everyone around you. If I had any doubts, you set me perfectly straight last night.” She pointed outside again, holding the door open wider.
Leo stood taller. His brow was furrowed tight. If Marshall didn’t get out of her clinic in about two seconds, there was a good chance she was going to have to watch another boxing match. And once was enough.
Marshall sighed with great exaggeration and stomped out the front door. He spun around when he got outside, his gaze meeting Katie’s. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Leo grabbed the door and yanked it closed, twisting the lock as soon as he cut Marshall’s voice off. “Don�
��t bother,” he muttered.
She fought the grin that spread across her lips. “My hero,” she teased.
Leo didn’t seem to find the situation funny, however. “Who is that jackass?”
“Until last night, I guess I would have said he was my boyfriend.”
“And then?”
“And then he dragged me to your friend’s stupid fight and forced me to watch sweaty, huge, muscular, sexy men beat each other to a bloody pulp.” She gasped as soon as she realized a few of her adjectives weren’t appropriate.
Leo’s mouth quirked on one side. “Sexy, huh?” He set a hand on her back and led her through the waiting room and toward her office. “You were on a date with that jackass?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Wearing that dress?” He pointed to the wrinkled material that suddenly seemed way too short and tight.
“On my behalf, he didn’t exactly tell me we would be sneaking into some speakeasy to watch an underground fight.”
“I see.”
She licked her lips as she shrugged free of him and slid around to her desk chair. She had no idea what he saw, but she saw a room filled with testosterone all packaged up in a body she wouldn’t ordinarily find attractive.
Or maybe she was kidding herself.
Maybe she’d always considered men like Leo attractive and had simply tamped down the feeling since there was no way in hell her parents would ever approve of her dating someone like him—an MMA fighter with muscles that went on forever.
She started to giggle at the visual of introducing him to her mother.
Maybe it would be worth it just for the shock value.
Chapter Three
Five months later…
“How’s your friend?” Katie asked as she stuck a butterfly bandage on the fourth buff guy Leo brought into her clinic in the past two weeks. He had a small cut above his right eyebrow from sparring at the gym. Hardly necessary.
She had to struggle to keep from grinning. When she first told Leo he could bring his friends in to get stitched up as necessary, she hadn’t expected him to take her so literally. Half the time the men on her table had nothing more than a bruise.