Excerpt:

“What on earth am I doing at a polo match? Ashley Craig muttered. She’d never been to a match before and wished someone had told her not to wear high heels to an outdoor sport played in lush grass.

Her friend Tisha overheard her. “Trying to save your career.” Tisha was staring avidly at the polo players. “But since your prospect is nowhere to be found, we may as well enjoy ourselves.”

Ashley plucked at her dress and forced herself to look around. The men strode about like masters of all they surveyed, wearing form-fitting polo shirts and snug white pants untouched by mud or grass, yet. Thick leather pads covered their knees.

“Chica, if their pants were any tighter, I’d think I’d mysteriously developed X-ray vision.” Tisha winked at her and Ashley gave her a small smile. She felt intensely out of place among all the sleek horses and even sleeker women. And her shoes had sunken into the turf.

“Why didn’t you tell me to wear my ballet flats?” She bent and fussed with the grass sticking to the red patent leather open-toed slingbacks she’d borrowed from Tisha.

Tisha elbowed her in the ribs, nearly knocking her over. “Stop messing around and look at that guy by the tent—he’s checking you out.”

Startled, Ashley looked up from her feet and her gaze zeroed in on the tall blond man staring at her. She straightened slowly and returned his stare. He was a good half foot taller than her own five foot nine and was dressed in a scarlet polo shirt. His pants were white-washed onto his muscular limbs and were tucked into knee-high burnished leather riding boots. His face was lean and sculpted, with firm lips and a cleft in his chin. But his eyes were most compelling, a whiskey-brown that glittered at her. She wondered if they darkened or brightened when he was aroused. And he did want to find out.

“I think he’s coming this way!” Tisha hissed. “Oh, my God, this is so exciting!”

“Shut up, Tisha,” Ashley muttered. The loudspeaker came on announcing the next match. To her crushing disappointment, the man stopped and glanced ruefully at the field. He lifted his gloved hand in a brief salute with his riding crop and disappeared into the crowd with his teammates.
Tisha groaned. “Too bad, Ash. I thought he was going to eat you up with his eyes.”

“Oh, well.” Ashley shrugged, with a nonchalance she didn’t feel. “He seemed pretty arrogant anyway.”

“That, my friend, is called machismo. He’s got something strong and powerful between his thighs, and he knows how to use it.”

“Leticia!” Ashley burst into laughter.

“What? His polo pony, of course.”

I will be giving away some copies of KNOWING The SCORE to a couple lucky posters as well as some foreign language editions of my previous books. If you live here in North America, are fluent in Dutch, German, French, Italian or Greek and want a spicy-hot novel to read, post a comment in that language with the English translation under it to enter to win. I have WILDE KERSEN, NAAKT ONDER HAAR HANDEN, KUHLER MARMOR—HEISSE HAUT, LA BRULURE DES SENS, SECRETS D’ORIENT, FANTASIE IN DOPPIOPETTO, and my favorite title of all GYMNO MODELO (Naked Model—yes, that pretty much sums up my first book!)

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