Fighting Hard by Marysol James Read Free Book Online Page B

white t-shirt and casual jean jacket he had on were not helping matters. “Come on in.”
    “Thanks.”
    He stepped in to her place and felt like he was surrounded by warmth and calm. Her apartment was bigger than his and was bursting with life and color. He looked around and immediately felt like he knew her; it felt like her arms were just wide open, welcoming him to her space.
    Nick handed her a bottle of wine. “I know you don’t drink much, but I thought maybe you’d have one glass with dinner. I hope white is OK?”
    “Thank you. It’s perfect with noodles and shrimp,” she said. “Put your jacket on the chair and sit down and I’ll be right with you. I just need to do one thing in the kitchen.”
    “OK.”
    He wandered in to the open-plan living room but he didn’t sit. He gazed around the room, taking in everything he could. Photos of Mia in what looked like India and Thailand and China. Mia with her parents, he guessed. Hand-painted boxes and lots of paintings, brightly-colored throw cushions and shelf after shelf of books. He spotted her name on some of the spines and he pulled one out.
    Mia came in to the room now with two glasses of wine. “It’ll be about three more minutes.”
    “You wrote this book?” he said.
    “Yeah. That’s one of mine.” She handed him his wine.
    “Thanks.” He glanced down at the title. “It’s about arranged marriage in India.”
    “Yes.”
    He looked at the others. “This one’s about – what? Acid throwing? Burned women in Cambodia?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “And this last one?”
    “Sex trafficking in Thailand.”
    “So when you said that you travelled to Asia and wrote about sociological studies…”
    “I meant that I do on-the-ground research and write about the exploitation of women.”
    “But isn’t that incredibly dangerous? I mean, these people in the sex trade especially wouldn’t appreciate having somebody poking around and asking questions.”
    “Well, I never go alone… I always work with local organizations who are looking to bust up sex rings and save abused women.”
    Nick stared at Mia as she stood there in a simple, pretty dress and bare feet, her hair shining. He was astounded at this side of her; her sweetness had an edge, it seemed, and he saw a toughness in her that surprised and impressed him.
    “Besides,” Mia continued. “What you do is dangerous too, you know.”
    He blinked. “Me?”
    “Sure. You go in to situations where you just know that somebody is trying to beat the life out of you… Adam does, too. I mean, in your job and when you compete, people are trying to hurt you – that’s the whole point, isn’t it? That’s how you win? By beating someone else, quite literally?”
    “Well, yeah.” He grinned. “I guess you can see karate and boxing that way. But they’re also disciplines. They’re about training and pushing yourself and getting stronger, faster, better. And ultimately, they’re about learning to control the power you have – having the strength of mind to not do others harm, even if you can.”
    “So, you’d say that the benefits are worth all the risks of being hurt?”
    “Absolutely.”
    Mia smiled up at him, her eyes golden and bright. “I’d say the same thing about my work. It’s worth every one of the risks.”
    Nick wanted very much to kiss her right then but a beeper went off in the kitchen. He paused, cursing bad timing.
    Mia gestured at the table. “Sit down, OK? Let’s eat.”
    **
    “OK, so.” Mia was trying very hard to focus on the last part of the interview, but it was a struggle. She looked over at Nick.
    He was sitting there across from her, all sexy and gorgeous in the candlelight, his body strong and huge and so close to hers. He had charmed her within an inch of her life over dinner and she was seriously contemplating just throwing herself at him. Pride be damned.
    “So.” Nick smiled, thinking that she looked like dessert to him. He had loved every second of the meal and