The stack of notes was larger than any she’d ever seen in one place. With wonder and a slack jaw she took the pile and flickered through it. ‘You were in the ring? I was down there in that dingy hole and you were in the ring?’

Twisting, she hit him with the bundle of bills and then dropped them into his lap. ‘There’s ten thousand there, babygirl.’

Stopping before she got off the bed, her jaw fell again. ‘Ten thousand dollars?’ He nodded. ‘US dollars?’

He nodded again, this time with a smile. Taking her hand, he placed the fortune in her palm and curled her fingers around it. ‘Hide it somewhere,’ he said.

‘Where?’

‘I don’t want to know,’ he said. ‘It’s yours.’

‘I’m not taking your money,’ she said, trying to push it back onto him, but he pushed right back.

‘It’s not the full amount of my winnings. I’m not leaving myself broke. But it should be enough to get you by… if anything… if you need it for anything… any time.’

‘Why do I need ten thousand dollars?’ she asked, flicking through the bills again.

‘I’m telling you that it’s an insurance policy, a bailout fund. If you ever want to bolt, take the money and go.’

‘Maybe I should invest it in bottled water and a plumbing system for my cell,’ she said, turning her smile on him, but he didn’t see the funny side.

He cupped her face. ‘You will never spend the night in that cell again. I promise you, ok?’

She nodded, because he was so solemn she had to believe him. ‘You’re giving me ten grand and telling me it’s ok to leave. Did you talk to them…? About us?’

Dax shook his head. ‘I had to take some of the guys home yesterday, that’s why I was delayed. I didn’t want them hanging around and asking questions, or outstaying their welcome. I met Bruno at the mansion and that’s when I realised you were still down there alone. That was last night.’

‘So why didn’t you—‘

‘Mauri needed me to do something for him, and then I was challenged and I couldn’t… you can’t refuse when the gauntlet is down.’

‘This is going to be some macho, convoluted excuse for leaving me down there, isn’t it?’

Leaning back on her hands, she was ready to listen to his excuse. But Dax wasn’t ready to give it, he was preoccupied by her towel-clad body. The temptation proved too much for him and he untucked her towel to reveal her figure for him to devour with famished eyes. His hand landed on her shoulder, and stroked down, over her breast to her hip.

‘Every fighter has a point man, that’s the guy who hooks the fighter up with a gig. We call him our scout, because he does all the work figuring everything out before we get there. My guy got in touch with me ‘cause a rookie wanted to challenge me. I have a rep in that circle and a lot of the younger guys like to try and confront me. If they win the fight then they’d solidify their place in the arena, and their fee would skyrocket.’

‘Do they ever win?’ she asked, already knowing the answer to her question.

‘No,’ he said, lowering himself to suckle on the nipple he plumped first.

‘How do you win? I mean what are the rules as to what qualifies as a win?’ she asked, caressing his shoulder and his bicep. His hand, which had been on her knee, disappeared under her thigh to elevate it and part it from the other. ‘You don’t kill anyone, right?’

‘Either the guy is down for ten, forfeits, or the arbiter calls it.’

‘Is that like the ref?’

‘There isn’t a referee,’ he said, switching to her other breast and sucking harder this time. ‘No one steps in to keep it fair. There are security guys who come in to break things up if a weapon is introduced, but only the arbiter can give them the nod to enter the ring. If he thinks a guy is close to death, but still won’t forfeit or stay down, he can call it.’

‘That’s it? Someone has to be close to death before the arbiter calls it?’

‘Sometimes a fight goes on all night,’ he said. Coiling his fingers around her wrists, he removed her weight from them and laid her on her back. ‘If the audience are getting bored and the bookies want it called then the arbiter can declare a winner, but that’s rare.’

‘It is?’

‘Sure, he doesn’t want to vote against a guy who could beat him to a pulp the next time he goes to his mailbox.’

‘He’s not a fighter?’

‘Sometimes,’ he said. ‘But most fighters have too many connections to be a fair judge. An arbiter is picked by the fighters’ scout before final agreement is made.’

Learning about the world he was so ensconced in did fascinate her, but she didn’t like to see him hurt by it. The more she thought about what underground fighting involved, the more her questions grew. A knock at the door interrupted her thoughts, and her lover.

‘Food,’ he said, leaving the bed to head for the door. ‘I’m giving you time to eat because you haven’t had anything for two days.’

‘Because you left me down there,’ she whispered just before he opened the door. Rita was carrying a tray and she started to come in, but Dax blocked her and took the tray away, closing the door in her face.

There were sandwiches and fruits laid out on the tray that he brought over to the bed. ‘Eat quickly,’ he said, hooking her hair away from her neck so he could sample it. ‘I can’t eat until you’re finished.’

‘I thought it was the most dominant in a partnership who ate first,’ she said, popping a cherry into his mouth.

‘What I’m eating isn’t on that tray,’ he said, sliding the tray away from between them and edging in to run a hand up between her thighs. ‘But if eating first will prove my superiority over you…’

Scooping up her legs, he rotated her in the bed and lay on his front, curving her legs over his shoulders. In that cell downstairs she had dreamt of food, but that had come second to this. So closing her eyes she savoured the gratification he bestowed upon her with that talented mouth of his and while he swilled from her core she fumbled toward the tray to seek out the bowl of berries.

The press of something warm and smooth made her pause and it took her a few seconds to realise he was rolling the cherry she’d put in his mouth up and down, around her clit. Dax was good at improvising and she found herself fantasising about what else they could do if they took this to other rooms of the house, like the kitchen.

The cherry moved south and she sighed out her pleasure. She’d be happy for Dax to always be dominant over her, and their relationship, if it meant more of this and more of him. He said that she would never spend another night in that cell and she believed him. As for the future of their relationship, or even what would happen tomorrow, she didn’t know. So all she could do was live in the now, which at the moment was an especially blissful one.

Ivy’s morning started out particularly strange.

By now she was used to hearing Dax snore. She was used to having her breasts squashed into his back and her arm stretched around him. The unusual thing about this morning was the woman standing at the foot of the bed when Ivy opened her eyes. Blinking a few times, she made sure that the view wasn’t part of a dream. Yes, Rita really was there at the end of the bed wearing nothing but a leopard print bikini, leaning over, massaging Dax’s calf.

Feeling like she could be in the way, Ivy shifted her own legs away from Dax’s, which drew Rita’s attention up to her. The new roommate smiled and Ivy reciprocated.

‘Good morning,’ Rita said. She massaged higher, reaching the back of his knee and Dax moaned, but remained sleeping.

‘You… did Bruno send you up here?’ Ivy asked.

Rita shook her head and leaned closer to Dax as she massaged higher. ‘No. But after a fight Dax needs to work out the kinks in his muscles.’

She hadn’t considered that there might be a history between these two people. Asking Rita about that subject didn’t guarantee Ivy that she would get the truth; but Dax was still unconscious so she couldn’t ask him. Loosening her limbs from him she rolled away, managing to take the sheet with her, which left Dax naked, but Rita had already uncovered all of the good stuff to have a good look for herself.