by Nicola Marsh
“Anytime.” Ellie glanced at me and I nodded, hoping our news might brighten Kye’s day.
Kye’s eyes narrowed as he glanced between us. “What’s going on with you two loved-up bozos?”
“We’d like you to be Harriet’s mentor at her name day ceremony,” Ellie said, her awed gaze meeting mine as I marveled for the umpteenth time at the life we’d created, a gorgeous one-month-old girl with my eyes and her mum’s feistiness.
Kye’s expression softened. “Thanks guys, I’d love to.” But all too soon, the darkness clouded his eyes again. “You sure you want an angry prick like me though?”
“You’re our best friend,” Ellie said, standing on tiptoe to kiss his cheek. “And if it weren’t for you dragging this Irish reprobate into my bar to save his cute arse two years ago, I wouldn’t be this happy.”
This time, it was my turn for a kiss. Smack on the mouth.
“Get a room,” Kye muttered, but he actually grinned. “See you at the bar for drinks in an hour?”
I nodded. “Just in time for you to read Harriet a story before bed.”
Kye rolled his eyes. “All that kid does is sleep and crap.”
I elbowed him. “And you love her for it.”
“Yeah, I do,” Kye said, a faraway look in his eyes, and I was grateful our friend could at least find joy in our baby girl. “See you soon.”
Ellie snuggled into me as we watched Kye walk away. “I’m still worried.”
“Me too, but all we can do is be there for him.” I slid an arm around her waist and hugged her tighter.
“He’s on some weird self-destruction kick…” Ellie’s concern echoed mine.
“Maybe we should get him to babysit Harriet more often? That girl’s enough to melt any guy’s heart.”
Ellie glance up at me, radiating pure joy as she usually did at the mention of our precious girl. “How did I get so lucky?”
As I swooped in for a kiss, I said, “We got lucky, babe. Really lucky.”
She smiled against my mouth. “Next you’ll be telling me you’ve got a stack of four-leaf-clovers stashed away and a leprechaun at the end of a rainbow.”
“My luck’s right here,” I said, hugging her tightly, and intending to never let go. “Let’s go see our girl.”
Ellie didn’t have to be asked twice.
Keen to read Kye’s story? CROSSING THE LINE is out now .
Laying it all on the line for love…
Mia Cresswell is tired of being good.
Achieving geek status at college doesn’t equate with fun. So when she heads home to her dad’s tennis academy in Santa Monica on spring break, she’s determined to be bad. And hot Aussie tennis star Kye Sheldon is just the guy to help her do it.
However, Kye’s troubled past continues to dog him and attending the Cresswell Tennis Academy is his last chance at the big time. He can’t afford to screw up…by screwing the boss’s daughter.
But Mia and Kye’s relationship is much more than a vacation fling.
Will it be game, set, match, when the truth is revealed?
Or will Mia and Kye have a real shot at love all?
TOWING THE LINE, Dani’s story, out now.
I need a new start. Anonymity. In a country where no one will know me, and the havoc I create. Not all the rumors about me are true. But I made one mistake too many in LA and attending an Australian college for a few semesters is the perfect solution.
I plan on avoiding guys. But the part-time tutor and sexy Aussie artist Ashton? Has me re-evaluating the wisdom of being a reformed bad girl. Ash is aloof, dedicated, serious, and I must corrupt him. So I seduce him. Not expecting to fall in love for the first time. And the last.
Because Ash has high standards and when he learns the truth about me, he’ll join the long list of people in my life pretending I don’t exist.
BLURRING THE LINE, Annabelle’s story, out now.
Annabelle Cleary travels half way around the world...to fall in love with the boy next door all over again.
Completing her degree at a college in Denver may just be the most exciting thing this small town girl has ever done. Until she discovers her new mentor is Joel Goodes, the guy who once rocked her world.
Joel isn’t a keeper. He’ll break her heart again. But Annabelle can’t resist the sexy Aussie at his devastating best and soon they’re indulging in an all-too-brief fling.
Annabelle wants it all: career, relationship and kids, in the hometown she’s always loved. The same town that holds nothing but bad memories for Joel.
When they return to Australia, will it be a homecoming they’ll never forget?
WALKING THE LINE (prequel to the World Apart series)
CROSSING THE LINE
TOWING THE LINE
BLURRING THE LINE
Available to purchase as a boxed set also: A WORLD APART series.
If you enjoyed this series, check out Nicola Marsh’s other contemporary romance series, Bombshells:
BEFORE (prequel, FREE)
BRASH
BLUSH
BOLD
About the Author
USA TODAY bestselling and multi-award winning author Nicola Marsh writes flirty fiction with flair for adults and riveting, spooky stories for teens.
She has published 53 contemporary romances with Harlequin, Entangled Publishing and indie, and sold over 6 million copies worldwide. Her first mainstream romance BUSTED IN BOLLYWOOD was nominated for Romantic Book of the Year 2012. Her first indie romance, CRAZY LOVE, was a 2012 ARRA finalist. Her debut young adult novel, a supernatural thriller BANISH, released with Harlequin Teen August 2013, and her YA urban fantasy SCION OF THE SUN won a National Readers’ Choice Award 2014 for Best YA novel.
She’s also a Waldenbooks, Bookscan and Barnes & Noble bestseller, a 2013 RBY (Romantic Book of the Year) and National Readers’ Choice Award winner, and a multi-finalist for a number of awards including the Romantic Times Reviewers’ Choice Award, HOLT Medallion, Booksellers’ Best, Golden Quill, Laurel Wreath, More than Magic and has also won several CataRomance Reviewers’ Choice Awards.
A physiotherapist for thirteen years, she now adores writing full time, raising her two little heroes, sharing fine food with family and friends, and her favorite, curling up with a good book!
She loves connecting with readers online:
Twitter:
https://twitter.com/NicolaMarsh
Facebook:
https://facebook.com/NicolaMarshAuthor
Blog:
https://www.nicolamarsh.blogspot.com
Newsletter:
[email protected]
Read an excerpt from CROSSING THE LINE
Chapter 1
MIA
“You should do him.” My BFF Dani pointed to a six-four dork in a custom-made suit sucking up to my dad next to the trophy cabinet. “Big hands. Big feet.”
I rolled my eyes. “You don’t actually believe that crap, do you?”
Dani sniggered. “Considering the amount of first hand research I’ve done, I think I’m a fairly good judge.”
I hated how Dani did that, perpetuating the slut label she’d copped at high school. Dani liked to date. A lot. That didn’t equate to sleeping around. But the fact she was blonde, gorgeous and had a great rack meant jealous girls had been happy to spread rumors. What made me madder? Rather than defend herself, she played up to it.
“Why do you still do that when we left high school three years ago?”
She ignored my question and tapped my nose. “Almost forgot. Big nose equals big dick too.”
As usual, I didn’t push her on an issue she knew bugged the hell out of me. I swatted away her finger. “He’s not my type.”
“Is anyone your type?” She grabbed two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handed me one. “You’ve been here an hour and I haven’t seen you scope out a single guy.”
No great surprise. I returned home to my dad’s place, the legendary Cresswell Tennis Academy in Sant
a Monica, every spring break, and not once had I found a guy remotely ‘scope-worthy’. Egotistical sport junkies weren’t my thing.
“That’s because I’m so damn happy to see you again.” I slid my arm around her waist and hugged tight. “I’ve missed you, sweetie.”
“You’re such a sap,” she said, returning my semi-hug before easing away to down her champagne. “Let’s get drunk and pick up the cutest guys here for a night of raunchy fun.”
Another thing that pissed me off about Dani. We hadn’t seen each other since last spring break, and our first night together she’d rather hook up with some anonymous guy than hang out with me.
I would’ve preferred to stay in tonight, watching corny old DVDs and eating ice cream from the tub while we caught up on gossip. Instead, Dani had arrived at my villa an hour ago, demanding I attend this lame party my dad was throwing for the new academy peeps.
I hated my dad’s parties at the academy. Wall to wall tennis jocks whose egos matched their oversized racket collection, my dad’s boring friends, and the general hangers-on who thought my dad walked on water because he’d won a record number of Grand Slams. Minimal food, maximum alcohol and requisite fake schmoozing. Country club exclusivity with an overload of testosterone.
But I couldn’t say no to Dani. She was the only thing I missed about Santa Monica—discounting Dad—and we could hang out at some boring party for a while before doing our catch up over a Cookies’n’Cream tub later.
“That’s an oxymoron. Cute guys here and raunchy fun.” I glanced around, not seeing a single guy I’d give my phone number to let alone allow to touch me.
Dani’s wide-eyed fake innocence didn’t fool me for a second. “You sure you’re not still a virgin?”
I snorted. “You know I lost my virginity to Andy in high school.”
I hadn’t told her about the only other time I’d had sex, with one of my friends at DU. And that had only been in the last few months. Pitiful, considering I’d been at the University of Denver for the last few years.
“That pencil dick? Time to find yourself a real man.”
I stifled a giggle at Dani’s accurate assessment of Andy’s appendage. “How did you know he was a pencil dick?”
Dani rolled her eyes. “Babe, I could tell you the size, girth and prowess of every dickwad’s cock at Dumbass High.”
And there she went again, pissing me off. I knew for a fact she didn’t sleep around that much back then. Now? I wouldn’t know. Sure, Dani was her usual joking self when we Skyped weekly and emailed a few times a month, but the truth was I had no idea what my best friend did with her spare time these days. And by her account, there was a lot of that.
Dani lived off her trust fund. She didn’t work. She didn’t do charity. And she didn’t let me into her life anymore. Not like she used to.
Everything changed when she backed out of college before we were due to start. She never told me why. Gave some lame-ass excuse about not being interested in going it alone when she had her family’s money to live off. Which I didn’t believe for a second, considering Dani was the most independent person I knew and couldn’t wait to join me at DU.
But I hadn’t pushed because my BFF had looked seriously fragile at the time, like a Santa Ana wind could blow her over with the faintest gust. The flu, she’d said. I’d been terrified it had been something more serious. So I gave her the space she’d requested to get her shit together and when she finally Skyped me three months later, the old Dani was back. Irreverent. Brash. Irrepressible.
I elbowed her. “If you slept with half the guys you say you have, you wouldn’t be able to walk.”
“Practice makes perfect.” She winked and did a fair imitation of a wide-stance cowboy swagger.
I laughed and shook my head. “I’ve missed you.”
“Same here, babe.” She slung an arm around my shoulder. “But here’s the deal. If you don’t bag the hottest guy here tonight, I’m going to sign you up with every online dating site in Cali. And I’ll use that pic of you with the mud mask that looked like you had shit smeared all over your face.”
“Is that the best you can do?” My snooty glare failed when I chuckled.
She tapped her bottom lip, pretending to think. “If that doesn’t do the trick, maybe I’ll get my mom to tell your dad you’re lonely and would appreciate a fix-up with one of his tennis protégés—”
“You wouldn’t dare.” Dani’s mom was a shameless Hollywood socialite who made meddling in people’s lives an art form. As for my dad, I’d already been subjected to his less than subtle matchmaking as a teenager, which is why Dani’s threat held serious fear factor. If those two got together on my behalf? A nunnery would be the only place I could escape their machinations.
Dani’s grin was positively evil. “Try me.”
I crossed my arms and puffed out a huffy breath. “Fine. I’m going to find the guy least like a tennis jock and do him tonight.”
Translated: I’d walk up to him, beg him to play along with me long enough to get my trouble-making BFF off my case, then escape to my villa on the pretext I was spending the night with him.
I’d deal with telling Dani the truth in the morning.
“That’s my girl.” Dani tweaked my nose, grabbed my shoulders and twirled me in a slow three-sixty. “See anyone you fancy?”
Yeah, Ryan Gosling on the DVD cover of his latest movie, but that was back in my villa and unless I played along I’d be stuck here with Dani doing this all night.
Increasingly tired of Dani’s never-ending need to hang out with a guy to make a party complete, I glanced around at the requisite tennis jocks in immaculate sports jackets, chinos and polo shirts. They chugged bottles of water, trying to make a good impression on my dad, the coaches and the rest of the academy crew. A few had potential in the looks department but they’d be too scared of pissing off my dad to play along with my lame scheme. No way would they leave with me with my dad looking on, on the pretense of screwing me or not.
And that’s when I saw him.
The perfect guy.
Well, not the perfect guy, but the guy I knew could come through for me tonight.
He stood in the far corner of the room, away from the crowd, partially hidden behind the pot-planted palms, strategically placed to offer some privacy for recalcitrant loners like him.
He wore a scowl along with dark denim, a blue sports jacket and a tight white T that even at this distance outlined a muscular chest. Brown hair. Chiseled jaw. Sexy mouth. Eye-catchingly gorgeous, if he ever stopped glowering.
“You found him?” Dani said, when she noticed I resisted further twirling.
“Yeah.” I jerked my head toward the corner. “Him.”
“Fuck,” Dani murmured, staring at me with newfound admiration. “I like the way you think, babe. He’s got sex god written all over him.”
“And soon I’ll be all over him,” I said, injecting enough fake bravado to sound believable while thinking ‘I wish’.
Because a small part of me did wish I had the guts to go after a guy like that. A guy who looked bad enough to help me break free of being good.
Maybe I should amend my plan from getting him to pretend to hang out with me to flirting relentlessly so we hung out for real?
How long since I’d had fun with a guy beyond study dates and coffee in the college cafeteria? My grades were good. My life was good. I was good. For once, I’d love to be bad.
“Go.” Dani shoved me in the guy’s direction. “Report back in the morning.”
I wiggled my fingers in a saucy wave at Dani as I strode toward the guy, who’d just downed a soda in record time.
By the time I was half way across the crowded room, I saw him duck out onto the terrace, which wouldn’t be opened until later in the evening.
So I did the only thing I could.
Took a short cut to the terrace and crossed my fingers I could pull this off.
Chapter 2
KYE
The se
cond I stepped into the function room at the Cresswell Tennis Academy, I couldn’t breathe. A stifling combination of designer perfume, overcooked shrimp and jock testosterone hung in the air like a miasmic cloud. The kind of scene I despised.
I wanted to leave. Ditch this pansy-arse party and the pretentious stuffy tennis establishment, leave Santa Monica and head back to Sydney.
But I couldn’t. That’s the thing about final chances. Screw this up and I was in deep shit.
“Would you like a drink, Sir?”
Sir? Seriously? Even the staff in this joint acted like they had a pole stuck ten-feet up their arse.
I stared at the waiter, who looked roughly twenty-two like me, and automatically reached for a beer. A coldie would take the edge off.
A coldie would also make me crave another, then another, to help me forget every godforsaken reason I was stuck in this hellhole for the foreseeable future.
In the first wise decision I’d made in months, I chose a soft drink instead. I downed it in three gulps and set the glass on a nearby table. I should mingle. I should do a lot of things according to my dad: lose the temper and the attitude, don’t waste my talent and don’t screw up.
Guess I should be grateful he hadn’t disowned me after I’d busted that dweeb’s nose back in Sydney. But even though we’d only known about each other for the last seven years, Dad stuck by me. He understood why I slugged the prick. No one got to call my mum a hooker, among other things, and get away with it.
“Drink, Sir—”
“No.” I didn’t want a frigging drink. I wanted to get the hell out of here. “Thanks,” I said, softening my tone when the waitress stared at me with genuine fear.
Looked like I was failing with the change of attitude already. Not wasting my talent? Remained to be seen.
I could hit a ball around a court. Very well, according to the top coaches in Australia. The thing was, they didn’t understand why I played tennis. Ironic, that the very attitude they wanted drummed out of me was what drove me to smash the shit out of that furry green ball.
