It's scheduled for release April 23rd!!
Maggie's brother Marc Anders (aka the player who takes down Jennings' nemesis at the end of book 2) gets himself embroiled in drama after the events on the field take place.
Punished and benched for six games, he goes into self-exile to get away from the media circus. But the ringleader follows him, trying to get a scoop for her story.
This book will be a little darker than the first two. Rhett and Jennings were sweet country boys, but city boy Marc has a much darker side.
Cool and controlled, they don't call him The Iceman for nothing. His emotional reaction on the field opens a sore that only reestablishing his tightly held restraint will fix. His brand of control comes with cuffs and paddles, and he has more than one reason to punish his lover.
Sofia Figueroa nearly destroyed Marc's brother's career with a slanderous mistake, one she's apologized for. Now that she's on the hunt to write another piece on the Anders' clan, Marc will do anything to stop her, even if it comes down to seducing her and making her his mistress.
Marc dug into his pocket and pulled out a key card. “I brought you up for privacy. I’m not going to argue in the hall.” He spun and walked away from her.
Sofia watched him retreat, wondering why the hell she’d agreed to come up to his room. His bullshit tale about finding a private place for the interview was as transparent as the nightie she wore to bed. After a deep breath, she followed him, knowing she’d do anything for the story. She headed to the end of the hall where he stood beside the door, staring at her, waiting for her to join him. One foot in front of the other, she padded down the thickly carpeted hallway, the normal clicking of her heels swallowed up. It was if she wasn’t there at all, the volume turned down so low all she could hear was the beating of her own heart and the sound of the air rushing in and out of her lungs.
When she arrived before him, he silently opened the door and stood back to let her in. She turned and entered, the room black. He crossed the threshold behind her, the thick door closing with a heavy click that made her jump. Enclosed in the darkened space with him, the hairs on the back of her neck rose and she wondered what he’d do next. Her body thrummed, goose bumps skittering over her skin as she anticipated a stroke of his hand, the brush of his lips.
Neither came and she silently admonished herself as she recognized she wanted him to do those things, even if it would threaten her journalistic integrity. The minute he put a finger on her, she should back down from the story. Should. She wouldn’t, even if he did, only because she was greedy.
Not greedy for the money, or the attention the story would get.
Sofia hungered for time with him. His presence alone inflamed her like no one she’d ever met. The magnetic attraction she felt toward him was life-altering and something she couldn’t simply walk away from.
He flipped a switch, light invading the darkness. Sofia narrowed her lids slightly to grow accustomed and then turned to look at the room. It wasn’t just a room, but a suite—a full living room, with a settee and two Queen Anne chairs on either end, surrounding a marble coffee table sat nearest her. That helped her relax a little. They’d conduct the interview here, where it felt more appropriate.
When she lifted her gaze she could see into the bedroom where a large four-postered bed was turned back and ready for whomever would slip under the luxurious covers. Did Marc sleep naked? Would he slide into those silky looking sheets, his skin bare, his muscled body slowly relaxing as he drifted off to sleep?
Or was his intentions as she assumed? Would he be drawing her into those sheets with him with the intention of having his wicked way with her? Her pulse jumped, sweat breaking out along the back of her neck.