Pride (Bareknuckle Boxing Brotherhood Book 3) by Nelson Cara

Author:Nelson, Cara [Nelson, Cara]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2015-02-24T08:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Bronny

“You were ogling that sleazy Italian tart when O’Reilly popped you in the jaw. It was a humiliation. Never has a Dolan behaved so, losing focus on his fight because of some cheap little piece of ass,” his dad boomed.

Bronny had expected a backlash over his near-knockout. It made him queasy just to think about how close he’d come to losing, to shaming his whole family in the ring because he’d caught Camila watching him and he’d fallen into her eyes—that was how he explained it to himself. He was drawn in, drowning, helpless to look away. It took a pretty good blow to the face to snap him out of it. He’d been abashed, had grabbed her and kissed her, more to prove to himself that he could than to show off. Either way, she’d slapped him. Making her the first woman in three counties to resist the advances of a Dolan at the height of his powers.

She seemed to be able to resist him just fine, which he couldn’t understand at all. The mere sight of her carrying a platter of lasagna and that open, warm smile had made his trousers uncomfortably tight. Bronny hadn’t thought she was warm or welcoming that first night, but her reserve, her prickliness had melted away. Now he found everything about her so inviting that he spent a fair amount of his workday on the thought of bending her over the bar, her full hips in his hands. The thought of her hips, her laugh, helped him blot out the rest of his father’s lecture about his ignominious victory.

“You’d better pull your head out of your arse if you’re to win the tournament and do your family proud,” he finished up. Bronny nodded sourly.

He didn’t like his dad’s opinion of Camila, but he kept those thoughts to himself. He was used to keeping his counsel, since arguing just made his dad go on longer about how he was right and Bronny was a thickheaded wanker who didn’t have sense enough to listen to his own father. He begged off to go train, promising himself he’d stay away from the pub until the next fight. Lord knew he had a case brewing in Kilmuck that would keep him busy enough, as well as preparations for the second round of the tourney.

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