Knowing the Score
Knowing the Score
By Kat Latham
Book one of the London Legends
Rugby player Spencer Bailey is determined to win a spot on England’s World Cup team. But with a month break before the selectors start watching him, he’s eager to have fun with a woman who knows the score: the relationship will end when rugby season begins. The lovely American Caitlyn Sweeney seems perfect for the role of temporary lover, since her visa will run out soon anyway.
Caitlyn works for an international disaster relief organization and can handle the world’s worst crises, but she flinches from her own. Her past has left her with a fear of intimacy so deep that she has trouble getting close to anyone—until she meets sexy Spencer. His hot body and easygoing nature are too much for even her to resist.
Neither Caitlyn nor Spencer expects to fall hard for each other. But with their relationship deadline approaching, the old rules of the game seem less important than before...until past secrets surface, challenging everything they thought they knew about each other.
86,000 words
Dear Reader,
I feel as though every month I start my letter the same, gushing over our month of releases and telling you how amazing and fantastic they are. This month, I’m going to change things up and start by telling you that they’re all quite awful. Okay, not really. Poor authors, I wonder how many of them reading this just had a mini heart attack? Of course you should be excited about this lineup of releases, because it’s another wonderful and diverse month.
In the new-and-unique category, this month we have our first ever decide-your-own-erotic-adventure. Christine d’Abo’s
Choose Your Shot
is an interactive erotic adventure that not only lets the reader choose who the heroine ends up with, but what kinky fun the characters get up to along the way.
We’re thrilled to welcome Karina Cooper to Carina Press. She’s moving her steampunk series, The St. Croix Chronicles, to Carina Press—starting with a prequel novella,
The Mysterious Case of Mr.
Strangeway
, in which a young Cherry St. Croix takes on her first bounty, only to find her efforts challenged by a collector whose motives run deeper than a hefty purse. Look for book three in The St. Croix Chronicles,
Corroded
, releasing in September 2013.
We have a strong lineup of contemporary romances this month. Fiona Lowe returns with her next Wedding Fever book,
Picture Perfect Wedding.
Tamara Morgan brings us
The Derby Girl
, in which a roller-derby girl lives up to her “bad girl” image to woo an unattainable plastic surgeon, only to discover that he’s the one man trained to see past the surface. In the humorous contemporary romance category, Stacy Gail’s
Ugly Ducklings Finish First
will be a hit with fans of high-school reunion romances, and with those who like their romance on the more lighthearted side.
I’m also thrilled to welcome
three
debut authors to Carina Press this month, all with contemporary romances. In Kelsey Browning’s
Personal Assets
, book one of the Texas Nights series, a recovering good girl needs the right man to help her find her inner bad girl—which is easier said than done in a small Texas town. Next, when the bank refuses Emma the loan she needs to save her family home, she must turn to her neighbor Mitch McKenna, a sexy real-estate investor whose reputation she’s spent the past six months pulverizing into sand, in
Unexpectedly You
by Lily Santana. And last, but certainly not least,
Knowing the Score
by Kat Latham features a smokin’ hot rugby player with a scandalous past who gives up his vow of celibacy to help a virgin overcome her fear of intimacy. Three debut authors offer up three terrific contemporary romance novels—make sure to give them each a try!
This month we also have three fantastic male/male romances. Kim Knox kicks off a fun-filled science-fiction historical trilogy. As described by the author,
Agamemnon Frost and the House of Death
is
Sherlock Holmes
meets
The Scarlet Pimpernel.
With aliens. Check out further Agamemnon Frost stories in September and October 2013.
John Tristan joins Carina Press with his male/male fantasy romance,
The Adorned.
A beautiful young man indentures himself to a tattooist and becomes a living canvas for the artist and his inhuman patrons. And for those who like their male/male romance in the contemporary genre, Libby Drew’s
Bending the Iron
is sure to hit the mark as she builds a brand for emotional, wonderful male/male romance.
Following book one of her Magick Trilogy,
Magick by Moonrise
, Laura Navarre takes us back into her historical paranormal world. When the Angel of Death falls in love with life, will a secret Tudor princess pay the ultimate price? Tudor England and the celestial realm collide in
Midsummer Magick.
Last,
Love Letters Volume 4:
Travel to Temptation
continues the collection of
A
to
Z
erotic short-story romances penned by Ginny Glass, Christina Thacher, Emily Cale and Maggie Wells. Volumes 1 through 3 are now available. Look for volumes 5 and 6,
Exposed
and
Cowboy’s Command
, on sale in September and October 2013.
As always, we have a significant backlist of books that I hope you’ll browse and take a look at, in genres from horror to mystery to fantasy to female/female and across the ranges of romance. There’s an adventure waiting for every reader!
We love to hear from readers, and you can email us your thoughts, comments and questions to
[email protected]
. You can also interact with Carina Press staff and authors on our blog, Twitter stream and Facebook fan page.
Happy reading!
~Angela James
Executive Editor, Carina Press
www.carinapress.com
www.twitter.com/carinapress
www.facebook.com/carinapress
Dedication
For Tim,
who taught me—among many other things—
that soul mates are real,
rugby is the best sport in the world,
and I can achieve more than I ever dreamed.
You are my true hero, Smarty Pants.
Acknowledgments
When I was a girl daydreaming of my future life as a novelist, I imagined myself sitting alone in a cottage with a typewriter. Thank God for computers because I’ve never been alone as a writer. Friends, family, readers and writers from around the world have been a constant source of encouragement and support. In particular, I owe a tremendous debt of gratitude to the following people.
Suzanne Johnson, Moriah Densley and Elise Rome, for providing eagle-eyed critiques and broad shoulders whenever I needed something to cry against. I honestly couldn’t have done this without you.
Penelope, Sarah, Penny, Izzi, Yael, Alix and Brad, for reading early drafts and showing me where I could improve—but even more for being incredible friends.
Angela James, for taking a chance on a debut author—and for wearing a rugby pin on her badge when I pitched this story to her.
Deb Nemeth, for helping me make this book so much stronger. You’re the editor of my dreams.
Laura Bradford, my agent, for patiently guiding me through debut authorhood.
Prof. Arthur Tanner, one of my favorite rugby men, for generously answering all of my research questions. All mistakes are mine—and I hope you’ll forgive my team’s doctor for having his phone on in the changing room. Next time I cross the Irish Sea, the first round is on me.
Bryan and Sue, for giving me the literal and figurative space to write. I hit the jackpot when it comes to in-laws.
My parents, who’ve always made me feel like I can accomplish anything and sacrificed so much to help me along the way. You’re the most supportive and enthusiastic people I know. Mom, I hope you enjoy the story, since I made you wait so long to read it. (Dad, there are certain parts you’ll want to skip.)
And Tim, because you’ve sacrificed the most to help me get here. I hope you never regret saying to me, “You should write a novel” all those years ago. I love you heaps.
Author’s Note
A few rugby terms and expressions I use might be unfamiliar to readers:
Fly half
,
prop
,
lock
and
hooker
are all positions on a rugby team.
Kick into touch:
to kick a ball out of bounds, a common way of ending a rugby match. The expression
kicking someone into touch
means breaking up with someone.
The egg:
the rugby ball (because of its shape).
Contents
Prologue
Eleven years ago
Sydney
,
Australia
Spencer Bailey was ready to light up the world—and any Aussies who crossed his path in the next eighty minutes.
He sat in the corner of the visitors’ changing room at Stadium Australia, head bobbing to the stirring refrain of “Rule Britannia” pumping through his earphones as he reread the poem his granny had posted him when he was selected to represent England in the Rugby World Cup. “Winners Take Chances.” He’d taken chances throughout his short career, and today he would win the biggest prize.
Chaos reigned around him as his teammates prepared in their own ways. One of the props slapped himself across the face while the hooker did press-ups against the wall. The fly half lounged on the opposite end of Spencer’s bench and belted out “God Save the Queen,” which they would all sing when they lined up on the pitch.
Their coach let out a shrill whistle, and the team came to order, throwing down their headphones and rugger magazines and circling around their skipper and support staff. Adrenaline surged through Spencer. He could hardly keep from pumping his fists in the air in anticipation. Rubbing his hands together, he did his best to look like a grizzled rugby veteran instead of the wet-behind-the-ears team pup.
Before he could reach his mates, the door clanged open. Two men in suits pushed their way in, too gray and somber to be fans. They glanced around, ignoring glares from the team. Their faces shuttered when they found him.
“Spencer Bailey?” one of them asked. As if he didn’t know. Spencer’s face had been splashed all over the Australian press for three weeks—the English rugby wonder boy who’d made mincemeat of opponents outweighing him in both bulk and experience. The one who would smash the home team and walk away with the World Cup two precious hours from now.
“That’s me. You looking for an autograph?”
Both men smirked. “You’re under arrest.”
“Wha—” Shock swelled his throat and choked him. Before he could say anything coherent, they’d slapped a pair of handcuffs on his wrists and pushed him outside.
The coach rushed up. “What do you think you’re doing?”
One of the cops smirked and quipped in a broad Aussie accent, “We
think
we’re arresting him, mate.” He glanced at his partner. “Isn’t that what we’re doing, Detective Inspector Post?”
“It is indeed, Detective Inspector Hughes.” The cop frog-marching Spencer out the door sounded like he could scarcely contain his relish. Spencer—always sure-footed on the rugby pitch—stumbled as they pushed him outside.
“On what charge?” Spencer’s coach followed them down the hallway and came to a halt when the cops stopped and turned Spencer to face his teammates.
“Rape.”
Flash!
A journalist’s camera caught the moment Spencer’s world fell apart.
* * *
Post and Hughes were kind enough to wheel a TV into the hall outside his cell so he could watch the final while waiting for the team’s lawyer to turn up. Like everyone in this godforsaken country, they expected Australia to thrash England. Spencer followed his teammates’ every move with dry, scratchy eyes. His whole future seemed to ride on their success. Watching his scrappy team of underdogs lose by three points nearly made him sick.
When the team’s lawyer finally arrived, the interrogation began. Hughes started. “You were in Adelaide a few days ago.”
“Of course. You know I was.” The whole bloody country knew. They’d watched him leave France in tatters in the semifinals.
“And you had a couple of guests in your hotel room after the game.”
Ah. Now he understood. He sat back in his chair, trying to hide his tremors. He knew this happened to professional sportsmen, but his innocence gave him very little comfort. “Whatever those two told you, they lied,” he said. “They were completely up for it.”
He took a deep breath, trying not to think about how his grandparents would feel when they opened the newspaper the next day at breakfast. “For Christ’s sake, they showed up at my door with a bottle of champagne and said they wanted to help me celebrate my birthday.”
Hughes glanced down at his notes. “And how old are you, Spencer?”
“Nineteen.”
The detectives exchanged a glance. “Hmm,” Post grunted. “A fully grown man.”
Spencer didn’t feel fully grown. He felt like he was going to puke.
Hughes dropped his chin, glaring at Spencer down the length of his crooked nose. “It’s too bad one of your guests was two months shy of being legal.”