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  Merv laughs like the dirty old man that he is. “Something meaty?”

  “We could use a way to get closer to Cardoza.” Gerry seems to be talking in coded language. The two men exchange a look that makes me wonder what they say about me behind my back.

  “Harper always gets what she wants, eh?” Merv chuckles, and leaves, while Gerry tries and fails to suppress a grin. Their conspiratorial humor, at my expense, enrages me. This morning has already been a shitshow.

  “I’m going to take you up on your suggestion. I think I will go and get my heel fixed now.” I grab my shoes and throw them into an empty plastic bag before putting on the spare pair of Converse sneakers I keep here for eventualities like this one. I slip my coat back on.

  Gerry looks shocked by my sudden change in tone and plan. “We need to talk, about Chicago's New Hope.”

  “What?”

  “The boxer.” I stare at him as if he's asked me to step into the ring. Gerry huffs out a sigh. “Go and get your heel fixed. We'll talk later.”

  As I rush away, I hear him mutter something about getting my priorities right. If he thinks I'm going to write anything on boxing, he's got another thing coming.

  As if I have any interest in that sport.

  Chicago’s New Hope.

  Ugh. I shiver at the idea of grown men fighting one another in the ring. What kind of man would do something as barbaric as that?

  * * *

  Want to find out what happens when Eli meets Harper?

  Click here to read an excerpt from the next book, The Wrath of Eli.

  Excerpt from The Wrath of Eli

  ELI

  * * *

  It’s not often that Lou calls me into his office in the middle of a sparring session. I figure it must be important, something to do with the fight.

  “What is it?” I say, still wearing my boxing gloves.

  “There’ll be a journalist hanging around here for a few weeks. They want to do an interest story on you.”

  “A what?” My guard is already up. A journalist? What the hell for?

  Lou stares back at me, his saggy, wrinkly skin hanging from his face. At times he reminds me of a turkey. “This is publicity. You don’t have Garrison’s pulling power. We need this.”

  The hell we do. I shift uneasily from foot to foot. “I don’t need it.”

  “You do need it. It’s the Chicago Daily Herald, kid. You should be honored.”

  “So?” I say, with a careless shrug. “So what?”

  “So shut the hell up and pretend nobody’s around.”

  I stare at Lou in disbelief. I’m training for a shot at the World Heavyweight title next month against Trent ‘The Tank’ Garrison, the current champion. Nobody expects me to win; I’m the underdog, and a long shot, and I got this chance by pure luck.

  But Garrison has everything to lose.

  I have nothing.

  The last thing I need is a journalist hanging around here watching me and asking stupid questions.

  “How long?” I ask.

  “Up until the fight.”

  “A month?” I shake my head. “What the fuck are they hoping to do here for that long?”

  “Calm down, Eli. Quit getting so riled up.”

  “But, a month?”

  “They’re writing an interest piece spread over a few days of the fight. Be grateful.”

  My face twists. This is bullshit.

  “They want to write about your training regime, see what you’re made of. You should be thankful, kid.”

  Thankful is the last thing I feel when my manager’s telling me that some nosey parker is going to shadow me for an entire month during the run up to the fight.

  Hell no.

  “I don’t need a distraction.”

  “Ignore him. Pretend the guy, whoever he is, isn’t around. You do that to most people most of the time anyway.”

  I ignore the snide comment. “He better not come to the training camp.” It’s the week before the fight. Lou’s taking me to Dwayne Bank’s house for my most intensive training yet. I spar and fight and hone my technique here in the boxing gym where I’ve been coming for the last six years, but Lou says the final weeks we’re going to build my strength and stamina at Dwayne’s place. Apparently, it’s in the middle of nowhere, and a four-hour drive from Chicago.

  “Okay. Done. Don’t let this get in your way. You’re Chicago’s New Hope, Eli,” he reminds me, “You have other things to think of.”

  That’s exactly my fucking point.

  Chicago’s New Hope.

  I grit my teeth. They’re calling me that because Garrison is from the Bronx. Whoever coined this phrase is being nice, but I’m not stupid. Behind my back I know what everyone thinks.

  I’m a poor bastard who doesn’t stand a chance.

  I tap my gloves together, because I’m itching to get back to the ring. Santos is waiting. “Is that it?”

  “Can I count on you to be nice?” Lou asks.

  I take a deep inhale because his request still pisses me off. “This isn’t school, Lou. I don’t have to be nice to anyone.” Not that I was nice to anyone apart from Nina, much. Even my foster parents, and there were many over the years, struggled to cope with me.

  He wants me to say ‘yes’. The hell I will. I need to focus. I need to keep my wits about me and my eyes on the prize, and the prize is the title of the world heavyweight champion. It doesn’t matter how I got this chance—sheer luck many have said, even directly to my face. You won’t last more than two rounds; others have told me. But I have a chance at this, and I’m going to prove everyone wrong.

  I remember one of the janitors at Grampton House. Dennis Swain was his name. I used to shiver when he walked past us. Nina would tug at my hand and keep me close by her side.

  I grind down on my teeth and shake my head. This fucking random and unwanted thought has sliced into my brain when I least expect it. Sweat drips down my neck and back. “I’ll try.”

  Lou nods, more in relief than anything else. “Now get back to the training. We need you ready for the big night.”

  “I am ready,” I mutter under my breath, as I turn to leave. I was born ready. Born to good-for-nothing sack-of-shit parents. My sister and I deserved better. When I win, when I get the money, things will be better.

  I climb back into the ring, bristling with rage, and a few seconds later, my clean left hook sends Santos flying to the ground.

  * * *

  HARPER

  * * *

  “Elias Cardoza?” I frown, because the name is vague enough that I’ve heard it, but I can’t put a face to it. “Is he a popstar?” I ask Merv.

  My boss huffs out an irritated breath. “He’s a boxer, right here from Chicago. How can you not know that?”

  “Because I don’t watch boxing.”

  Gerry tries to hide his laugh, but I catch it.

  “You need to start watching this guy. Everyone’s got an eye on him, and he hasn’t lost a fight this year.” Merv pauses for effect, but I stare at my nails, noticing that the color has chipped and I’m going to have to run into one of the nail salons during my lunch hour to get it fixed. Or maybe not. I have an article that needs to be finished in the next hour.

  “Are you paying attention?” His tone is harsh. It’s like he’s still pissed that I got this job instead of his nephew.

  “I always pay attention.” I force a smile because I know this annoys him even more. I swear to God, I don’t know how come I’m still in this job two months down the line. This guy is looking for any excuse to fire me so that he can tell everyone how useless I am. Only, I’ve not given him the chance because, despite my designer suits, and matching bags and shoes, I can still deliver nitty-gritty news when I need to. I never miss a deadline and it surprises many people. They think I’m an airhead, and I’m so not. This is what Merv thinks. I feel as if he’s constantly trying to test me, but my father’s on the board—which is probably another reason for Merv hating me—and he can
’t really fire me.

  “That’s your next assignment. Think you can handle it?”

  I have a million reasons why I don’t want to handle it. I don’t know the first thing about boxing, and I hate the idea of it; two grown men knocking one another to pieces. It’s barbaric and shouldn’t be allowed. But I smile sweetly, because this asshole of a man finds things he knows will test me.

  “Of course I can handle it.” Then I wonder what Gerry’s doing in here, and why Merv is only addressing me about it. “What about Gerry?” I ask, nodding in his direction. Gerry’s a senior editor here, and sort of like my mentor.

  “Gerry suggested it would be an interesting story for you to do. You can shadow Cardoza for a month in the run-up to his fight.”

  “A month?”

  “You can get up to speed with boxing, while writing an in-depth piece on him,” Gerry explains. “It will be a good experience for you, especially since this fight is going to be huge. Cardoza’s not going to win, obviously, but we’ll get a lot of interest because he’s a local guy. Garrison is the clear favorite, and the bigger draw, no question about it.”

  “But a month?” I ask, thinking back to the Rocky films and images of a dirty and dingy little gym rush to my mind. I don’t particularly want to shadow a boxer in a place that smells like a boys’ locker room all day long. Why couldn’t I cover a gala fundraiser event or something more interesting?

  “I want you to immerse yourself in this guy’s daily routine. Our angle of interest is that Cardoza’s a local boy. They call him Chicago’s New Hope and, trust me, we wouldn’t be doing this if he wasn’t from here. This kid has come from nowhere, and if he goes on to win the fight it’s going be a huge upset.”

  Gerry interrupts with a smirk. “He’s not going to win,” he says, smugly. “Cardoza got this fight because the other guys got disqualified.”

  Merv frowns. “He might surprise us.” Gerry shakes his head again, as if this is ridiculous.

  Merv laughs. It’s the usual part-condescending, part-being-polite laugh he usually reserves for me, the one where I can’t tell if he’s being a dick, or if he’s suddenly remembered that my dad sits on the board and it’s because of him that Merv has to be nice to me.

  “You start tomorrow. It’s all been arranged with his manager, Lou McNeilly. He’s the trainer manager, and he owns McNeilly’s Gym.”

  “Tomorrow?” I ask, feeling slightly anxious. They’ve definitely thrown me in at the deep end. I have a lot to research, especially since I have no clue who this guy is.

  “You’ll do,” Merv says, resting his head in his hands, arms wide open as he rocks back in his chair. “You’ll be fine.”

  I don’t bother to question what he means by that, and I especially don’t like the way he looks me up and down as if he thinks I don’t know that he’s checking me out again. He’s a sick and dirty old man. So many of them are. I shudder, and thank my lucky stars that unlike most people, I don’t have to work if I don’t want to.

  At least I show up to work and do the work. Truth is, I don’t want to rely on my father all my life. I want to make it on my own. He helped fund my Ivy League education and, yes, he bought my apartment in one of the most affluent parts of the city, but that’s what all parents do. I can’t help it if my parents helped me.

  “What does he look like?” I ask. Merv throws a folded paper across the desk. I stare back at a guy who looks angry. But then my heart skips a beat as I rake my eyes over his chest. I skim over the article headline and see that this is a shot of him in the ring after he’s won a fight. He’s wearing a don’t-fuck-with-me glare, and his hands are down by his side, his eyes a riot of fury. My heart skips a beat because this guy has abs that are so beautifully sculpted that I’m tempted to trace my finger over the paper.

  I would have probably done that had Merv the Perv not been watching me.

  “I think she likes him,” Gerry says, grinning.

  “He looks familiar,” I say, trying to cover my embarrassment. He doesn’t look familiar at all, and I can’t believe I’ve almost drooled over the paper.

  “Get to know him, Harper. Make him trust you.” These are Merv’s parting words to me.

  “Looking forward to it?” Gerry asks when we leave the office. He’s always checking to see if I’m okay. At first, I thought it was because of my dad, but the more I get to know him, the more I realize that Gerry’s making sure I settle in okay. Maybe he’s trying to make up for Merv’s thinly veiled hatred of me. In any case, Gerry reminds me of a kid who always wants to please his mom, or his schoolteacher, except that he’s in his late forties, I’m guessing, and he’s been here longer. Yet, for some reason, he seems slightly in awe around me, and I don’t know why.

  “It’s a bit sudden,” I say. “Telling me the day before I start.”

  “That’s because we had someone else in mind.”

  “Then why am I running with this?” There are others here with so much more experience than me.

  “This will be good for you. Merv reckons you might be better in getting more information out of Cardoza.” He coughs and looks embarrassed. “As opposed to a guy, but I have no idea why he’d think that, especially in this day and age.”

  Merv the Perv. I wince. “I know nothing about boxing,” I say.

  “You’re not on your own, Harper. Maybe we can get together for lunch or something once you’ve settled in? You can let me know how you get on.”

  “Sounds good.”

  I go back to my desk and prepare to get better acquainted online with Elias Cardoza.

  * * *

  * * *

  Click here for more on The Wrath of Eli

  Booklist

  The Seven Sins: A series of seven standalone romances based on the seven sins. Steamy, emotional, and angsty romances which are loosely connected.

  Underdog (FREE prequel)

  The Wrath of Eli

  The Problem with Lust

  The Lies of Pride

  The Price of Inertia

  * * *

  The Billionaire’s Love Story: This is a Cinderella story with a touch of Jerry Maguire. What happens when the billionaire with too much money meets the single mom with too much heart?

  * * *

  The Promise (FREE)

  The Gift, Book 1

  The Gift, Book 2

  The Gift, Book 3

  The Gift, Boxed Set (Books 1, 2 & 3)

  The Offer, Book 1

  The Offer, Book 2

  The Offer, Book 3

  The Offer, Boxed Set (Books 1, 2 & 3)

  The Vow, Book 1

  The Vow, Book 2

  The Vow, Book 3

  The Vow, Boxed Set (Books 1, 2 & 3)

  * * *

  Indecent Intentions: This is a spin-off from The Billionaire’s Love story. This two-book set consists of two standalone stories about the billionaire’s playboy brother. The second story is about a wealthy nightclub owner who shuns relationships.

  * * *

  The Bet

  The Hookup

  Indecent Intentions 2-Book Set

  * * *

  Honeymoon Series: Take a roller-coaster journey of emotional highs and lows in this story of love and loss, family and relationships. When Ava is dumped six weeks before her Valentine’s Day wedding, she has no idea of the life that awaits her in Italy.

  * * *

  Honeymoon for One

  Honeymoon for Three

  Honeymoon Blues

  Honeymoon Bliss

  Baby Steps

  Honeymoon Series Boxed Set (Books 1-4)

  * * *

  Italian Summer Series: This is a spin-off from the Honeymoon Series. These books tell the stories of the secondary characters who first appeared in the Honeymoon Series. Nico and Ava also appear in these books.

  * * *

  It Takes Two

  All That Glitters

  Fool’s Gold

  Roman Encounter

  November Sun


  New Beginnings

  Italian Summer Series Boxed Set (Books 1- 4)

  * * *

  A Perfect Match Series: This is a seven book series in which the first four books feature the same couple. High-flying corporate executive Nadine has no time for romance but her life takes a turn for the better when she meets Ethan, a sexy and struggling metal sculptor five years younger. He works as an escort in order to make the rent. Books 4-6 are standalone romances based on characters from the earlier books. The main couple, Ethan and Nadine, appear in all books:

  * * *

  Lost in Solo (prequel)

  The Proposal

  Heart Sync

  A Leap of Faith

  A Perfect Match Series Books 1-3

  Misplaced Love

  Reclaiming Love

  Embracing Love

  A Perfect Match Series (Books 4-6)

  Standalone Books:

  Love Inc

  An Unexpected Gift

  An Ordinary Hero

  * * *

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  Acknowledgments

  As always, I would like to say a huge ‘Thank You’ to my amazing group of proofreaders for their patience and support, and for calmly accepting my ever-changing deadlines. These ladies check my manuscript for errors, typos, inconsistencies and strange words and phrases which often find their way into my story.

  * * *

  Without them, I wouldn’t have the confidence to release each book and I am eternally grateful for their help and support: