“Is it illegal?” She bent over to stuff her sweats into her gym bag and heard the heavy thump of weights as they were dropped. Maintaining position, she turned her head and smiled at the pop-eyed man staring at her.

The catcalls and whistles started immediately, the sound swelling and bouncing off the cinder-block walls. Alex was very much afraid there would be a riot—one he was likely to incite himself. “Damn it, put something on before I have to kill somebody.”

“They look harmless.” She straightened again and lifted her arms to tie the short curls at the nape of her neck into a stubby ponytail. “Anyway, I came to work out.” With a challenging grin, she flexed a muscle. “How much can you bench-press?”

“McNee, don’t you dare—” He broke off with an oath as she blithely strolled across the room to chat with the weight lifter. The two hundred pounds of muscle began to babble like a teenager. Alex had no choice but to send out a warning snarl, much as a guard dog might to a pack of encroaching wolves, before he went after her.

She pulled it off, of course. He should have known she would. The men started out drooling, kicked over into laughing and finally wound up competing with each other to show her the proper way to perform squat lifts, chin-ups and leg curls.

Before an hour was over, she’d been shown pictures of wives and children, listened to sob stories over sweethearts and stopped being ogled—unless it was at a discreet distance.

“You sure you want to do this?” Alex asked again, tapping his gloved hands together.

“Absolutely.” She smiled at Rocky as he himself laced up her gloves. “I couldn’t leave without one sparring match.”

“You watch out for his left—it’s a good one,” Rocky advised her. “Kid could’ve been a contender if he hadn’t wanted to be a cop.”

She winked at Rocky. “I’ve got fast feet. He won’t lay a glove on me.”

Two of her new admirers held open the ropes for her so that she could step into the ring. Enjoying the sensation, she adjusted her padded helmet. “Aren’t we supposed to wear those funny retainers?”

“The what— Oh, mouth guards?” He couldn’t resist, and he leaned over and kissed her to an accompaniment of hoots. “Baby, I’m not going to hit you.” In a friendly gesture, he tapped his gloves to hers. “Okay, put your hands up.” When she did, lifting them toward the ceiling, he rolled his eyes. “It’s not an arrest, McNee.” Patiently he adjusted her hands until they were in a defensive position.

“Now, you want to guard, see? Keep your left up, keep it up. If I come in like this—” he did a slow-motion jab at her jaw “—you block, jab back. That’s it.”

“And I fake with my left,” she said, and did so.

“If you want.” Lord, she was sweet. “Now try for here.” He tapped his own chin. “Go ahead, you don’t have to pull it.” When she punched halfheartedly, he shook his head. “No, you punch like a girl. Put your body behind it. Pretend I’m Dawn Gallagher.”