LITMIR.BIZ

      Prologue

      HE WAS A BIG MAN. Six foot three inches tall, broad shoulders, powerful arms and thighs—he dominated the boxing ring just by standing in it. Despite his size, he could move. Like Muhammad Ali, he danced around his opponents, fast and balanced, a joy to watch.

      Jamie Sawyer studied his every move on her television screen, her thighs and shoulders and belly tensing, her right hand curling into a fist as he hit his opponent with a jab, then followed up with a cross to the body.

      The power of the man. The elegance. The sheer beauty of watching him fight.

      “He’s the one,” she said, sitting back in her chair. “Cooper Fitzgerald. He’s the one I want.”

      On the screen, Cooper hit his opponent with a whistling uppercut that came out of nowhere. The other fighter’s head rocked back, his eyes closed. He staggered backward. Then he hit the canvas like a two-hundred-pound slab of meat.

      Reaching for the remote control, Jamie froze the image as the camera pulled in close on Cooper Fitzgerald’s face.

      A nose with a charming bump in it from many breaks, strong cheekbones, a square jaw, deep set navy-blue eyes, dark hair. He was a good-looking man. But she wasn’t interested in his looks. She was interested in the fierce, triumphant snarl on his face and the light of victory in his eyes. He was a winner, a champion. For four years, the best heavyweight boxer in the world.

      And now he was retired and starting his own fighters’ gym and taking on fighters to train.

      She planned to be one of them. She was going to be one of them. She needed him if she was going to keep her promise.

      “I still like Godfrey,” her grandfather said from behind her on the couch, his voice thin and reedy.

      Every now and then it struck her how much he’d changed since his heart attack six months ago. The loss of his robust, deep voice was just one of many profound shifts.

      “Godfrey’s experienced, he’s connected. He’s my choice,” he said.

      “No, Cooper Fitzgerald is the one,” Jamie said again. “He’s the one who’s going to put me where I need to be, Grandpa.”

      He knew better than to argue with her when she dug her heels in.

      “Have to get him to take you on first,” he said.

      Jamie stood. Her legs ached from yesterday’s roadwork, but she still planned on getting another ten miles under her belt today.

      “He’ll take me on,” she said.

      She just had to find the right way to ask…