"It's time, Merrick. I'm going to have Cathy take Elle to her seat, and she's going to stay with her for the fight. Front row. She'll be close. Cade and Dallas are going to stay in the corner with me."

Merrick nodded and then leaned forward again to claim Elle's mouth in a lusty, possessive kiss that left her breathless.

"Win," she whispered. "Do it for you, Merrick. Nobody else."

Elle and Catherine were escorted ringside by two security guards. Catherine latched onto her hand and pulled her up close while the two guards moved only a short distance away, flanking the women.

"I've never been so oh-my-God nervous in my life!" Catherine yelled in Elle's ear. "This is it, Elle. This is what he's worked for over so many years."

"He's going to win," Elle said with calm she didn't feel.

All she could think was what if he didn't win? Every plan, every action over the last month had been made with the assumption that Merrick would win the title.

The three had picked out a home in Denver. Dakota and Catherine had begun negotiations on a training facility. Their house in Grand Junction had been put up for sale, and Cade had sold his business.

Even Charlie was making the move to Denver and would be a part of Merrick's training team.

The only dim spot in the last weeks was the fallout from Elle's attack, and she'd worried endlessly that it would prove to be a huge distraction for Merrick and split his concentration at a time it had to be completely focused.

Her attacker had survived, but fortunately for Elle, he confessed everything. He pled guilty to assault, and he testified against the man Cade and Merrick had captured stealing the car. Other than statements provided by all three of them, nothing further was to be done, and they'd been able to push the incident from their minds.

The flurry of activity surrounding the move and Cade selling their home and business had helped to distract Elle so she didn't spend much time dwelling on the terror of what had happened to her.

But only in the last week, three weeks after the attack, had the bruising finally faded, and she could move without pain or discomfort.

Thank God she'd healed before the fight because it was a madhouse, and if Merrick won? There was going to be mad hugging and even madder celebration.

Tonight, because Merrick was the contender, he'd enter the ring first. When the lights dimmed and the first strains of Merrick's entry song began, goose bumps chased up Elle's arms. She yanked her gaze up the aisle, straining to get a glimpse of Merrick when he appeared.

His nickname still made her giggle. Merrick "The Hit Man" Sullivan. It sounded so...mafia. But he'd gained the nickname because it was said he had lead fists and, with one well-placed punch, could drop a much larger guy like a stone.

Merrick began his jaunt down to the ring, surrounded by Dakota, Cade, Dallas and Charlie along with several security guards. He looked loose, but more important, he looked focused and calm. Confident.

He walked by Elle without a glance, something she didn't take offense to. His gaze was riveted to the ring, and she doubted he even saw her. This was one time she wanted to be invisible. She wanted nothing to distract him from his goal.

The crowd roared when Merrick was introduced, and Merrick raised his gloved hands in the air, rotating in a 360, inciting the crowd to yell even louder.

Her heart surged with pride. This was her man.

Her gaze slid to Cade a short distance from Merrick, at the confidence in his eyes. Confidence radiated from every member of Merrick's camp. Then, to her surprise, Cade found her in the crowd, and he winked at her.

Not caring who saw or what they made of it, she blew Cade a kiss. To her utter shock, Merrick turned, touched two fingers to his lips and then extended his arm toward her.

Her heart felt like it was going to explode right out of her chest. Automatically she blew him a kiss in return, and he made a show of catching it and pressing it to his chest.

It was so deeply romantic and public that her knees threatened to turn to jelly.

Once again the lights went down, dousing the arena in darkness. The spotlight swung to where Lash was making his appearance, and the crowd erupted just as the first strains of his music began blaring.

Her stomach twisted into nervous knots. Lash was huge. And mean-looking. He looked intensely focused and ready to tear Merrick apart.

The belt he wore around his waist shone in the spotlight. He took his time walking down the pathway to the ring and stopped for the referee to check his gloves. Then he stepped into the ring, and the announcer began the impressive introduction of the World's Heavyweight Champion.

Elle felt like she wanted to puke. She wasn't sure she could watch this.

When the two men met in the center of the ring, Elle blinked, her eyes widening as she realized that Merrick was every bit as big as Lash. The champion just looked so intimidating to her, but for the first time, she looked at Merrick the way most other people likely viewed him.

He was big, heavily muscled, and he looked like a complete badass.

Would she have ever given him a second glance if they hadn't met the way they had? If he hadn't been so kind and gentle with her?

"Here they go!" Catherine shouted next to her.

Elle blinked again, realizing the bell had rung and the two men were dancing around each other in the ring. Oh shit. It was here. The culmination of all Merrick's training. All his hard work. It came down to tonight. One night. One fight. Everything was on the line.

Lash landed the first punch, snapping Merrick's head back. Elle flinched and looked away but quickly yanked her gaze back to the ring to see Merrick follow up with a flurry of punches that drove Lash back against the cage.

Her own fist curled into a tight ball, and she found herself holding her breath.

"Lash will never beat him in a boxing match," Catherine yelled. "The only way he can win is to get Merrick on the ground. If Merrick can stay on his feet, he'll win this quickly."

Elle grabbed hold of Catherine's confidence and held tightly to it. She was so nervous and uptight that each second was an eternity. She'd never felt so miserable in her life. The anticipation was agony. The knowledge that one lucky punch could kill Merrick's dreams. One slip and Lash could get him in a hold, forcing him to tap.

Merrick drew blood with a forceful jab, opening up a cut on Lash's cheek. But then Lash landed a left hook that sent Merrick reeling back, and Elle saw blood above Merrick's left eye.

Shit.

Lash made several attempts to take Merrick down, but each time, Merrick sprawled, making it impossible for the other man to take him to the mat. It was obvious that Lash was getting frustrated, and Elle saw it as a positive sign that Merrick was still focused and calm.

At thirty seconds left in the first round, Merrick went for the kill shot, and Lash dodged and lunged forward, slamming Merrick onto the mat. Elle's throat hurt, and she realized she'd yelled at the top of her lungs the moment Merrick went down.

"He's okay. He's okay," Catherine hollered next to her ear. "Lash doesn't have his back. He doesn't have position."

The two men scrambled and rolled, a flurry of bodies as they grappled, twisted and turned. Merrick suffered a series of blows to the head and side that had Elle wincing.

She turned anxiously to the clock, counting down the seconds until the end of the round.

Hold on. Hold on.

The chant echoed through her mind as she watched, unable to look away as Merrick's blood smeared onto the mat.

Finally the bell sounded, and the referee pulled Lash off Merrick. Merrick rolled to his feet, quickly jumping up. Elle wasn't sure if he truly wasn't affected by the pounding he'd just taken or if he just wanted to get into Lash's head by making him think he wasn't.

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 championship was on the line.

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.

CHAPTER 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.

Then he lifted her again, hoisting her up his body.

"Wrap your legs around me," he said hoarsely.

She wrapped arms and legs around him, anchoring herself to him. He grasped her behind, lifting and then settling her down over his rigid erection. Then he walked her back until she bumped against the wall, and he thrust hard and deep.