Crossing Hearts Blurb:
New to the U.S. soccer scene, not to mention the English language, compact yet explosive Chilean soccer legend Rio Vidal is driven to define a role on his new team, Atlanta Skyline. But he must also adapt to a new culture—and accept that he can’t do it alone. His beautiful interpreter, Eva, has been his voice, his refuge. But she is becoming so much more. If only he could convince her he isn’t like the other men she’s worked with, players on—and off—the field.
As a translator for pro athletes, Eva Torres is used to dealing with self-interested super stars. But Rio seems different, and she’s blindsided when he locks eyes with her across a church pew. By now, after weeks of close contact with the endearing athlete with whom she shares a language, her thoughts are far from holy. She must remind herself flirtation is probably just his default style. Plus, she’s the only one he can really talk to. But when his ambition threatens to derail his career—and their deepening connection—they’ll both have to lay their hearts on the center line . . .
Excerpt:
“Bzzz Atlanta, Rio. Bzzzbzzzbzzz.”
Rio widened his smile, hoping it was an appropriate response as anxiety quickened his breathing. It would be so embarrassing if he turned out to be grinning like an idiot at the man who’d just asked him a question—or fired him.
Roland’s friendly expression faltered. Rio’s mouth went dry. He quickly inventoried the few English words he could deploy.
Soccer. Bon Jovi. One, two, three…
“Señor Vidal, buenos dias.” A woman appeared at his elbow, her Skyline jersey so oversized it nearly met her knees. “Soy Eva Torres. Su traductor.”
“Eva the translator, just in time to save my career,” he gushed, grateful to be back in the safe waters of his native Spanish. “Please don’t say Roland just told me to get on the next plane home to Chile.”
Her smile was more magnificent than the flashbulbs sparkling around the room. He took in her small stature, olive complexion, dark hair falling thickly over her shoulders. Her eyes were wide-set, the exact shape of almonds and slightly hooded, as though their black-coffee depths were so accustomed to keeping secrets it had ceased to be a challenge.
From nowhere he thought of his grandmother’s obsession with the Virgin of Guadalupe, the paintings and candles and statues that cluttered her curtained-off corner of the tin-roofed shack where he’d grown up. She used to insist the eyes of the Virgin changed, that it was possible to read warnings and reassurances and answered prayers in those heavy-lidded orbs. As a child he’d spent hours nose-to-nose with one of her figurines.
Watching. Waiting.
He always blinked first.
But this Eva… He bet the cool eyes she tilted up to him could give that ceramic Virgin a run for her money.
Author Bio and Links:
Rebecca Crowley inherited her love of romance from her mom, who taught her to at least partially judge a book by the steaminess of its cover. She writes contemporary romance and romantic suspense with smart heroines and swoon-worthy heroes, and never tires of the happily-ever-after. Having pulled up her Kansas roots to live in New York City and London, Rebecca currently resides in Johannesburg, South Africa.
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