Unbroken (Fighting for Gisele #3) by Emily Jane Trent Page B

rode the thrill as was his way, and hers as well.
    Late in the evening, Micah fell asleep with Gisele tucked up next to him. His last memory was of how soft and warm she was. When he woke up early, he was reluctant to leave the sweetness of his bed. He nuzzled against Gisele and buried his face in her hair.
    Micah was sorely tempted to bail on his commitment for the day to be with her instead. But he had to get to the gym; skipping a workout was not an option.
    So instead of giving in to temptation, Micah dressed and slipped quietly out of the room to let Gisele sleep. As he rode the elevator down to the lobby, his heart warmed at knowing she was still asleep in his room. This time she’d brought a suitcase with her, and could stay for a couple of days. Micah could certainly get used to having her with him.
    Later that day, Gisele had an appointment with her new apartment manager to get the key. Abby was going with her, and they’d have lunch. It was a relief that she was on her own now, and could do as she wished. She wasn’t safe yet, but it was a step in the right direction.
    Micah had to get back to training; he had a fight coming up. And this was no average match, if there even was such a thing. Max Fromer posed a clear challenge, and might be one of the toughest opponents Micah had faced. Beating him had its obstacles, although not insurmountable ones.
    So far, Micah was new enough in the Vegas circuit that he wasn’t known as a winner. Those that played the odds normally bet against him. And that had worked well for Luke, who bet their money on Micah. If Micah bested this monster from Germany, that situation would change. Conquering the Brute would be a definite coup.
    After dressing and finding Harlan on the main floor, Micah warmed up by jumping rope. When he stopped to catch his breath, his coach enlightened him on the importance of mental attitude. “You have to understand, Micah, that some guy might beat your ass. But you’re not a quitter,” Harlan said.
    “I thought we were talking about me winning?”
    “You can’t win every time,” Harlan said. “Just because you lose, it doesn’t make you a loser.”
    “I’m not planning to lose.”
    The coach continued his speech undaunted. “I’m just saying that it’s not the same fight every time. Losing is part of the game.” His direct look gave Micah pause.
    “Win or lose, there’s always another fight.” The coach hesitated for a beat, as if considering how to make Micah understand. “You aren’t magic, and having the illusion that you are is dangerous in the ring.”
    “I appreciate the reality check,” Micah said. “Now push me hard, because I’m going to beat the son of a bitch.”
    Harlan nodded. “I know you are.”
    The coach was true to his word, and put Micah through his paces. For a while he wasn’t sure if he was getting stronger, or if he was going to die right there in the gym. By the time the session was over, Micah was sweating like a pig, sucking in oxygen like it was his last breath.
    “Okay, go shower up and get out of here,” Harlan said. “Good food and lots of rest tonight…you hear me?”
    Micah was too wiped out to reply; he just headed straight for the locker room. He was more determined than ever to win the upcoming fight. Pumped from his workout, he wished the guy was coming at him then. He’d enjoy beating the crap out of him.
    While he showered, Micah thought about his strategy. The coach had been working on specific techniques that would be effective against such a formidable opponent. Harlan had studied the man’s style and geared Micah’s workouts accordingly.
    Beating the guy would mean that Micah was no longer the underdog. Winning against Fromer would get attention, and event sponsors would know of Micah’s capabilities. It would alter the atmosphere in betting circles, but Micah didn’t care about that. His only concern was winning .
    He dried off and got dressed, needing to get some food soon.