Vicki Essex - In Her Corner

More than just a sparring partner…

Bella Fiore has a lot to prove. For three generations her family has dominated the world of mixed martial arts—a tradition Bella dreams of carrying on. Her family, on the other hand, doesn’t agree. Without their support, she’s relying on the coaching of medal-winning Kyle Peters.

Training with Kyle is not what Bella expects. They’re constantly butting heads. And with the body of a Greek Adonis, Kyle’s mat technique isn’t her only focus. Not that this attraction can go any further. She has a title to win! Yet when Kyle proves Bella can always rely on him, a championship may not be the only thing worth fighting for….

“You obviously don’t like me,” Bella said.

“That’s not true.” And it wasn’t. Kyle simply didn’t know how to handle Bella. Her temperament, her energy, her drive—they were all good things, professionally speaking, but they were nothing he was prepared to deal with. And that was what really bothered him.

“I came here to train with you, Kyle.” Bella’s words were as sharp and precise as a scalpel. Her composure was unexpected, and it threw him off balance even more. “Not with your staff, not in your gym. I came for you. But if you can’t work with me, then all you have to do is say so, and I won’t waste any more of my time or yours.”

“That’s not what I want.” The thought of losing her because he’d misspoken—because he couldn’t get over himself and deal with her—made him physically ill.

Dear Reader,

I can’t believe I’m publishing my third Harlequin Superromance book! Part of me always thought I might sell two books at most before I dropped dead from exhaustion…the other part yelled at me like a drill sergeant to keep writing. And so In Her Corner was born.

I knew when I started writing my first book, Her Son’s Hero (Harlequin Superromance July 2011), that I would later write about a female MMA fighter. There’d been a few successful female fighters, but it was widely believed that women would never make it into the wider professional arena for a lot of reasons. That didn’t stop talented female athletes from trying, though.

I was thrilled that so many great historic milestones in women’s mixed martial arts happened while I was writing this book, including the launch of Invicta Fighting Championship, a professional all-women’s MMA promotion company; and the first female fight in the world’s largest fight promotion, the UFC. It’s been exciting seeing female athletes compete at this level, and I’ve met so many more female fans as the sport continues to grow.

In Her Corner isn’t just about one woman’s struggle for the right to fight; it’s also about one man’s struggle with himself. Kyle Peters was a flirtatious playboy in Her Son’s Hero, but things have changed since, and the wrestling coach is having a hard time working with wannabe pro fighter Bella Fiore. Bella’s part of MMA royalty, the only daughter of the world-famous Fiores who teach Brazilian jujitsu. Kyle can help get her career off the ground and break her away from her family’s legacy, but he’s wrestling with his own demons. He’ll have to decide whether to see Bella as an opponent or an ally.

I love hearing from readers! Visit me on my webpage, at www.vickiessex.com; on Facebook, at www.facebook.com/vickiessexauthor; or on Twitter, @VickiEssex.

Keep fighting the good fight!

Vicki Essex

In Her Corner

Vicki Essex

www.millsandboon.co.uk

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Vicki Essex couldn’t throw a punch if her life depended on it, but she’s been known to inflict injury accidentally, and suggests you stay out of arm’s reach, just in case. She’s a big fan of muscles and sportsmanship, and enjoys watching MMA fights while crocheting. She lives in Toronto and is an omnivore. Visit her at www.vickiessex.com; on Facebook, www.facebook.com/vickiessexauthor; and on Twitter, @VickiEssex.

Special thanks to Elizabeth Gonçalves for her help with the Portuguese language.

All mistakes are my own. Muito obrigado! Vou fazer-lhe uma toranja boneco de neve!

A huge thanks to actor Tahmoh Penikett, who provided a perfect physical template for Kyle and happily played along when I asked him to pose for my cover. (Check out my website if you want the full story. 8))

Thanks to my fantastic editor, Karen Reid.

Thanks to the lovely folks at Harlequin Enterprises, especially to the art and production departments, who put together the best covers.

For my friends and family, who’ve cheered me on.

And as always, for John, my schmoo.

Contents

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

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Chapter Twenty-Five

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

KYLE STOMPED ON the brake and jerked the wheel to the right as the maniac on the bike barreled toward him.

The figure in black and red whipped by, his loaded backpack brushing Kyle’s newly detailed convertible. Something metal bounced against the side of the car like a dud missile, rolling under the chassis. He slammed the heel of his palm against the wheel. No one touched his baby.

“Hey!” he shouted as a horn blared. The cyclist darted out of the path of another car, wobbling on its suicide trajectory against New Orleans traffic. “What’s wrong with you?”

The bicycle skidded to a stop. The front wheel popped up and pivoted around as the rider deftly maneuvered it like a rearing show horse. A horn blared, and the driver of the car the cyclist had barely dodged rolled down the window, shouting obscenities. The cyclist studied the ground, frowning, eyes masked by reflective sunglasses. He looked up briefly and screamed an obscenity right back.

Jesus, the cyclist was a woman. All that lean muscle, plus the helmet and high-cut cycling top had effectively hidden any evidence of her femininity. Not that her being a woman subdued his temper. Kyle yelled, “Hey, lady, are you nuts?”

She ignored him as she walk-rode her bike back between the stalled lines of traffic, searching under the cars she’d passed. The driver who’d screamed at her started to get out of his car, swearing and waving his fist.

This was going to get ugly, and the cyclist had no idea the man was stalking toward her. “You’re riding on the wrong side of the road,” Kyle told her when she was within earshot. The driver from the other car continued yelling but was hesitant to stray too far from his vehicle. Kyle popped his seat belt, ready to intervene.

The woman scrambled off her bike and leaned it against the driver’s-side door. “What are you doing?” He fought the urge to shove her bike off the side of his convertible.

“I dropped my water bottle.” Her voice was smooth and sooty, tinted with an accent that definitely said not from around here. She got down on her hands and knees and reached under his car. Kyle got an eyeful of backpack, booty and muscular calves, and his ire was momentarily forgotten.

“Dammit.” She crawled back up. “I can’t reach it. Could you move your car?”

He blew out a breath. “Listen, lady, you can’t ride against traffic. It’s dangerous.”

“No, it’s not.” She said it matter-of-factly, without the slightest trace of defensiveness or irony. “I can see what’s coming, and so can you. I don’t see what you’re worried about—you’re the one behind two tons of steel.” She rapped on the side of the car.