Sports reporter Grace Avery is up for a promotion, but only if she gets an interview with the notoriously private, heavy weight champion, Rally Brewer. Grace discovers who Rally is beyond the boxing ring. Little does anyone know, as Grace gets Rally to open up, a two-year-old secret is in jeopardy. Is revealing his secret worth gaining Grace's love?
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.99 Just for You
The next morning, Grace stood in front of the mirror
and wanted to cry. Her nose had grown at least three sizes, and if this continued,
the circus would surely be over to recruit her. And it hurt like hell. Not to
mention that she couldn’t breathe out of either nostril. Both problems brought
her a poor night’s sleep and she had a big day ahead of her. At least her hair
looked good with the soft curls swept into a clip. Pretty and
professional…until anyone looked at her face.
She grabbed her cell and punched the number listed on
the business card. Sucking in her breath, she waited for the ringing to be
replaced by a deep, masculine voice. One belonging to…
“Brewer.” Rally Brewer. She started to swoon but caught herself when
he barked an impatient, “Hello?”
Heat burned her cheeks as she stammered out a quick,
“Mr. Brewer, this is Grace—the woman with a swollen nose.”
“Oh,” came the reply. After a heartbeat, he continued
with, “I’m sorry about yesterday, Grace. I’m sure your clothes are ruined and I
insist on paying you for them. Meet me at the motel restaurant for an early
lunch.”
A smile spread over her lips as her pulse pounded. Lunch
with Rally Brewer? Hell yes! Maybe her career wouldn’t be smashed after all.
She tried sounding as nonchalant as she could manage when she said, “Sure. When
is good for you?” Hopefully soon, in order for her to make her flight early
afternoon.
“Can you meet me now? I have a plane to catch soon.”
“Yes, I can meet you.”
She scribbled the address to his hotel and called a
cab. Fifteen minutes later, she flinched at the glances from the taxi driver
through the rearview mirror and wished she could strap a giant bandage over her
bruised nose. The driver looked at her again and shook his head. Yep, he wanted
to know what happened to her. Why didn’t he just come out and ask? She might as
well get used to the questions now that she’d left her hotel room.
“I look like shit, huh?” she asked, a calm smile
splayed across her lips. “It’s okay. You can say so.”
The driver nodded. “Boyfriend do that to you? I hope
the bastard gets what he deserves.”
She laughed. “Actually, no. Someone smacked a door
into my face. It was mostly my fault, but he is making it up to me by taking me
to lunch right now.”
A thin slice of hair fell down against the man’s
wrinkled forehead. “A lunch date, huh?”
“Oh, nothing like that. He wants to pay for my outfit
that got ruined.” She motioned to the swollen mound and flinched as a sharp
pain raced through her face. “And he might want to apologize, I suppose.”
“Keep your eyes open, dear,” the driver said.
“Accidents happen, but they also bring people together. It’s going to happen
with you, too.”
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Learn more about author Wendy Ely and all her books: http://wendyely.blogspot.com/
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