Meg Maguire - Making Him Sweat & Taking Him Down

In these two fan-favorite sports romance stories, winning is everything…

Making Him Sweat

Admitted romantic Jenna Wilinski has just inherited a boxing gym. With it she can finally realize her dream of launching an upscale matchmaking business…provided she can take on the very intimidating—and wickedly hot—boxer who stands in her way! Mercer Rowley vows to protect his “home” from this stubborn, feisty opponent. But man, once the gloves come off, his hands just want to touch her everywhere .

Taking Him Down

Matchmaker Lindsey Tuttle always thought Rich Estrada was a whole lot of sexy. He’s a gorgeous, flirty mixed martial arts fighter—what’s not to lust after? When they find themselves heating up during a make-out session, Lindsey is ready for him…until Rich abruptly ends it. A year later, Rich is back in Boston recovering from an injury. Lindsey figures it’s the perfect time for a rematch to remember.

“Maguire succeeds in socking us with a sterling combo of love, loyalty, family, sweat and tears. 4½ stars!”

— RT Book Reviews on Making Him Sweat

“ Making Him Sweat is the first book in a brand-new series by Meg Maguire…that centres around MMA. You know what that means, right? Hot, sweaty, half-naked men. I’m there. I can expect only good things from Maguire!”

— Under the Covers

“If you enjoy reading about super sexy boxers who like to get down and dirty, then definitely give this book a try.”

— Blithely Bookish

“Full of interesting, likable characters and sexy love scenes.”

— Fiction Vixen

“I loved this book! Jenna and Mercer share some delicious sexual tension, but thankfully Ms. Maguire does not torture her readers. I definitely recommend this book and am looking forward to reading the sequel.”

— Badass Book Reviews

“I love fight books…especially where old-school boxing meets the more modern MMA style. This cute book had so many great characters and a good old-fashioned romance.”

— Nocturne Romance Reads

Making Him Sweat & Taking Him Down

Meg Maguire

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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MAKING HIM SWEAT Making Him Sweat Meg Maguire

TAKING HIM DOWN

Meg Maguire

For Amy, Ruthie and Serena, with crazy gratitude for your time and input. You gals rock my socks. Continually.

Also with thanks to the staff of the Wai Kru mixed martial arts gym in Allston, Massachusetts—especially Michael, for letting me loiter and ogle, and pester him with endless questions about the business of building great fighters.

And of course, thank you to my editor, Brenda, for liking this premise enough to contract the series, and for beating my first draft into submission. I won’t let you down, coach.

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

JENNA’S HEELS CLICKED against the asphalt as she crossed the street. Though they’d proven adorable enough to earn compliments from three different strangers on the ten-minute walk, she’d have to rethink this shoe choice in the future. Boston was made for flats, with its warped old brick sidewalks. Made for flats and for doctors who specialized in ankle injuries.

She survived a final block to reach her destination, a building she’d seen only in photos until this moment. Five stories, a former hosiery factory long since divided and repurposed. She paused to picture a new sign above the entryway, but a river of speed-walkers engulfed her, their brusqueness making it known that 9:00 a.m. downtown was not the time and place for daydreaming.

Leaving the August sunshine behind, she stepped into a cool, wide front corridor, with a worn but handsome hardwood floor and brick walls. She smiled, clutching her purse with cautious hope. With a bit of polishing and some nice light fixtures and greenery, this place could be very stylish indeed.

To her right stood a display case of boxing equipment, its glass overdue for some Windex. Gloves and shorts, headgear, mouth guards, supplement bottles—the accessories of her inheritance, surreal as that felt. She eagerly erased the image on her mental sketch pad and filled in the blanks, adding a couch and a couple of easy chairs, a shiny coffee table covered in magazines. Hopeful, excited people chatting as they waited. Waited for Jenna to make their romantic dreams come true.

In a few months’ time, this would be the home of the Boston branch of Spark, New England’s fastest growing matchmaking company—and Jenna its newest franchise owner. Spark was very old-school, unlike the online services, and that suited Jenna just fine. The web was great for impulsive commitments—such as shoes you’d never tried on—but one’s love life was not a thing to march into blind. Finding Mr. or Miss Right could be mystifying, and as a future matchmaker she was excited to help shine some light through the fog.

At the end of the foyer was a wide stairway leading down to what a banner on the wall proclaimed Wilinski’s Fight Academy—the less savory half of Jenna’s real estate inheritance. At the sight, she dropped back to earth from the clouds. The front doors opened behind her, and she tensed as a stocky man toting a gym bag brushed past and disappeared down the far steps. The misgivings she’d been flirting with for the past couple months flared, setting her body buzzing.

To her left was an office fronted with tall windows, welcoming if not private. Beyond the glass a man sat at a desk, typing on a laptop. If this was who she thought it was, he’d be expecting her. But not the news she had to share.

She took a final, calming breath and approached the open door, studying her adversary before announcing her arrival.

The man looked about thirty, with short brown hair. His thick arms and the formidable build beneath his T-shirt told her he was no stranger to the gym’s recreational punishment. His physique made her heart race. In another context it would’ve been a guilty, pleasurable excitement, but this thumping at her pulse points was pure nerves. A strong, capable body might be an asset for a lover—if you were into that kind of thing, which Jenna most certainly was not —but intimidating from an opponent. And this man was likely to prove himself the latter, once she spelled matters out for him.

She straightened the sweep of her bangs, the hem of her skirt, the set of her shoulders. Abandoning her silly, daydreaming self at the threshold, she knocked on the doorframe.

The man looked up and she saw him scan her in a breath before rising. He had a stern, pensive expression, but she thought she caught a widening of his eyes.