I'll Catch You (New York Sabers, Band 228) - Softcover

Buch 2 von 4: New York Sabers

Rochon, Farrah

 
9780373862030: I'll Catch You (New York Sabers, Band 228)
Softcover
ISBN 10: 0373862032 ISBN 13: 9780373862030
Verlag: Harlequin Kimani Romance, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

Cedric Reeves has just been sidelined, and the bad-boy pro footballer suddenly finds himself without an agent or a prayer of getting back in the game. What he needs is someone pulling for him…someone like gorgeous go-getter Payton Mosely.

A media-hounded celebrity like Cedric is just what the ambitious up-and-comer Payton needs to jump-start her career. That's why she's waging a no-holds-barred campaign to land the Saber running back as her first client. But how's the NFL sports agent supposed to keep things strictly professional when Cedric pursues her with a passion no sane woman can resist? Could this sexy bad boy be good for her after all?

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Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Farrah Rochon hails from a small town just west of New Orleans. She has garnered much acclaim for her New York Sabers football series for Harlequin's Kimani Romance imprint. Farrah has been nominated for the prestigious RITA Award from Romance Writers of America and the RT BOOKReviews Reviewer's Choice Award. She can usually be found on Twitter or at a Broadway show.

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The aroma of sweat and dirt blended with a myriad of expensive colognes, creating a nauseating odor that suffused the locker room and clung to Payton Mosely's nostrils.

Payton tamped down the urge to pull her shirt over her nose. None of the other reporters seemed affected by the overpowering smells attacking her olfactory system with the force of the entire New York Sabers defensive line. They were used to this, and if she wanted to maintain her facade long enough to accomplish her goal, she had to suck it up and deal.

She ducked and weaved her way through the crowd of reporters wearing press passes identical to the one that hung around her neck. The names printed on theirs probably matched the names on their driver's licenses, something Payton could not claim. Today she was Susan Renee Sutphen, sports writer for the Buffalo Daily.

Nothing short of a full day of pampering at a day spa would be suitable to thank Sue for allowing Payton to use her press pass. If she was caught, Sue's paper would likely be banned from the Sabers locker room. And that was the best scenario. Her friend could lose her job over this.

The crush of reporters surrounding the Sabers's punt-return specialist, Jared Dawson, whose ninety-eight-yard kick return for a touchdown set a Sabers record and sealed today's victory against the Philadelphia Eagles, slowed her forward momentum, but Payton would not be deterred. She wasn't here to get a quote from the game winner. She would never put up with this stink for something as simple as a recap of today's football game. Payton had her sights set on a much bigger prize, and she was going to be waiting at his locker for him.

He emerged from the shower room, bare-chested, with sweatpants that hung low on his waist.

Cedric Reeves.

Payton's steps halted. That confidence she'd been building over the course of the game needed a pep talk before approaching the man who would make or break her career, especially if she had to go near him in his current state of undress. He had a running back's body, solid and strong, without an ounce of visible fat lurking, only muscle and a whole lotta attitude.

Dark brown skin glistened over the rippling muscles of his supremely defined abs. The six-pack looked as if it had been created by a master sculptor with the sole purpose of driving the female population crazy.

Payton's palms itched with the urge to glide across all that glorious skin but she reined in the impulse. She wasn't here to admire his physique; she was here to convince Cedric Reeves to become the first client of Mosely Sports Management. Despite the stomach-turning affects of the pungent locker-room air, she sucked in a deep breath and used one of the pranayama breathing techniques she'd learned in yoga class to calm her rapid heartbeat.

This was it: make or break time. Two possible outcomes: either she convinced the Sabers running back to take her on as his new agent, or she threw her dream in the gutter and headed back to West Texas.

Payton tossed away that idea before the image of tumbleweed could roll through her psyche. The only thing that would take her back to her small hometown was a visit with her mother. Her life was here, in New York. And her profession was sports agenting.

All she needed was a client.

"All or nothing, Mosely," she whispered under her breath.

Payton's eyes zeroed in on Cedric. He stood before a wooden alcove that sported his name engraved on a teal nameplate above it. The locker room contained about eighty identical cubbyholes made of a beautiful solid oak, gleaming, as if the wood had been polished by hand. They made a semicircle around the room, each with a cushioned folding chair in that same Sabers teal that was the color of choice for just about everything at Sabers Stadium.

A couple of reporters surrounded Cedric with their various recording devices shoved in his face. There was too much noise for Payton to hear what he was saying, but he either made quick work of answering their questions or blew them off, because within a few minutes they were gone.

Payton took another deep breath, straightened her shoulders and walked with a confidence born of countless mini-pep talks like the one she'd just given herself. Just as she approached Cedric, another reporter stepped in front of her and stuck a voice recorder in the running back's face.

"Any truth to the rumored meeting you had with the Sabers general manager, Cedric?"

Cedric tossed the towel he'd had around his shoulders onto the floor and pulled a platinum herringbone chain over his head. A diamond-studded cross lay in the center of his chest, gleaming from the florescent lights that tracked along the locker room's ceiling.

"The key word there is rumored," was Cedric's answer as he pulled on a long-sleeved T-shirt and covered up that beautiful chest. The shirt couldn't hide the well-defined muscles of his arms and shoulders, though.

Salivating over his body was so not the right thing to do at the moment. She had to be professional.

"Come on, Reeves," the reporter continued. "It's common knowledge that your agent dropped you after that incident with the fan in Baltimore. Word is the Sabers are looking to do the same."

"As much as I would love to spend the next three hours talking about this, I'm due for a massage with one of the trainers. I'm sure you saw the nasty hit I took at the end of the third quarter." He retrieved an alligator-skin duffel bag from the base of the locker, then turned in the direction of the shower and training rooms where the press was not allowed.

Payton intercepted him before he could take another step. "Mr. Reeves, can I have a word with you?"

His shoulders stiffened as he turned. "I just said 'no more'?" he raised his head and after a pause finished "?questions." His eyes widened with interest as they traveled from her head to her feet. Despite being fully clothed, Payton felt as naked as a stripper at the end of her pole-dance routine.

Cedric ended his perusal at her face, then he squinted. His forehead creased in a deep vee and he pointed at her. "Don't I know you?"

"Not really," Payton answered, her shored-up confidence washing out to sea with that one accusing question.

"Yes, I do. You're that agent chick who's been stalking me."

Payton's eyebrows shot up in indignant surprise. "I have not been stalking you."

"No? What would you call it?" He ticked a list off on his fingers. "You've emailed me about a dozen times, called the Sabers front offices and tried to trick the receptionist into giving you my cell number and friended me on Facebook. Nice profile picture, by the way. Although it doesn't do you justice."

Payton felt her face heating. Listening to a detailing of her activities over the past few weeks, she thought she did sound a little stalkerish.

He leaned in closer and read her press pass. "And now you're pretending to be a reporter. Where's Susan Renee Sutphen? Locked up in the trunk of your car?"

Payton had known her ruse would be discovered as soon as he spotted her, but it had gotten her what she wanted, face time with Cedric Reeves. She figured she had about a minute to make her pitch, and she wasn't going to waste another second of it.

"The only reason I resorted to this is because you've ignored all of my other attempts to contact you," she said.

"Most people would take the hint," he replied.

"Is there a reason you refuse to talk to me? I may be just the agent you've been looking for."

"What makes you think I'm looking for an agent?"

Payton quelled the impulse to roll her eyes, frustrated but not surprised by his reluctance to even admit he needed her.

"It's common knowledge that you and Gus Houseman have parted ways, and that...

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Verlag
Harlequin Kimani Romance
Erscheinungsdatum
2011
Sprache
Englisch
ISBN 10 
0373862032
ISBN 13 
9780373862030
Einband
Taschenbuch
Anzahl der Seiten
224
Kontakt zum Hersteller
Nicht verfügbar
Verantwortliche Person
Purmerul LTD
https://strengholt.nl/en/

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