Kavanagh Legends #1
By: Sarah Robinson
Releasing September 29, 2015
Loveswept
Blurb
Perfect for fans of Katy Evans and Monica Murphy, Sarah Robinson’s blistering-hot
series debut introduces the Kavanagh brothers—mixed martial arts fighters who work
hard, play hard, and love with all their hearts.
As one of the big names at his family’s gym, Legends, MMA star Rory Kavanagh is used to
being in the spotlight—until a gruesome leg injury knocks him out of the cage. Rory is left feeling
sidelined in more ways than one, battling the inner demons that come with losing the one shot
at his dreams. Then Clare walks into his life and gives him a new dream: winning her heart.
There aren’t many new faces in Woodlawn these days, but this tough, beautiful stranger makes
Rory want to get his life back into fighting shape.
Clare Ivers doesn’t think she’ll be able to tell anyone what really brought her to the close-knit
Bronx neighborhood where she just started bartending. But her life’s on pause and her past is
catching up fast, try as she might to move on—with new friends, steady work, and a chiseled
alpha male trying to get her attention. Even though Rory’s more than a little intense, she can’t
deny that her heart beats faster when he looks at her with those soulful silver eyes. Clare
thought she was done with love, but Rory might just be man enough to show her she thought
wrong.
Excerpt
Well, if it isn’t our long-lost brother,” a familiar voice said a few minutes later, as he
meandered into the neighborhood bar that everyone he knew frequented. A hand clasped his
shoulder. “Shit, Rory, where the hell have you been?”
Rory inwardly groaned as he turned to face his younger brother, Quinn Kavanagh. Rory
wanted to wipe Quinn’s smug smirk off with his fist. He had been sporting that same cocky
attitude since the moment he popped into this world, a trait that Rory found uniquely irritating.
Now I remember why I’ve been avoiding this bar, Rory thought as he forced a smile at his
brother.
“Just stopping in for a quick drink, Quinn,” Rory said, attempting to make clear that he wasn’t
interested in socializing.
He headed over to the long wooden bar that wrapped around two sides of the small pub and
stood before walls of liquor bottles and televisions. Several bartenders moved around swiftly,
filling drink orders and talking with the full crowd that O’Leary’s always attracted on weekend
nights. Rory found an empty stool down at one end, far away from the door, and quickly staked
his claim.
He saw Cian, who had worked at O’Leary’s for as long as he could remember, and nodded
his head to him. Cian nodded back and put up his hand, indicating he would be over in a
minute, as he finished serving the group of college-aged kids at that end of the bar. The door to
the kitchen swung open and a short, petite blonde ambled through carrying a large bucket of ice
that seemed much too heavy for her small frame to manage.
Rory smiled slightly as he lifted one eyebrow, watching her with interest while she carefully
poured the ice over the liquor bottles that sat in a metal bin below the bar’s surface. She huffed
and her face was slightly red at the task, but she still managed to completely empty the bucket’s
contents evenly around each of the glass bottles.
He took advantage of her being distracted by her task to stare at her shapely legs, which
disappeared under a short skirt barely longer than her small apron. Her skin was delicately pale
and smooth, and he wondered what it would feel like to slide his fingers up the length of those
legs. His eyes traveled up her body, disappointed that the thick, blond ringlets dangling halfway
down her back were also hiding most of her face as she leaned over the bar. He wanted to see
her perfectly sloped nose, catch her eyes with his, and see what her small pink lips would look
like when they smiled.
Something about this woman was intriguing him, although he couldn’t pinpoint what.
Her work completed, she exhaled loudly and plopped the empty bucket at her feet, taking a
breather. Rory chuckled lightly, finally grabbing her attention.
“You laughing at me?” She put her hands on her hips, daring him to make fun of her.
Her eyes narrowed as she spoke, but he was still able to catch a glimpse of the dazzling
emerald color that contrasted against her light skin and golden hair so perfectly.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, mhuirnín.” A smile spread across his face as he watched her saunter
over to him, her full, pink lips tightly pressed together in irritation.
“What’s that mean?” she asked when she reached him, standing across the bar with her
arms folded across her chest and one hip tilted higher than the other. Her tone was defiant and
he loved the feisty spirit she exuded.
“Mhuirnín? You’re all questions today. I’ll answer your question, if you answer mine.” Rory
concentrated on keeping his speech normal and not slurring his words. He might have had a bit
more to drink tonight than he had intended.
She turned away from him, looking back down the length of the bar and drumming her
fingers on its surface.
Rory could sense her nervousness. He already missed her green gaze and silently begged
her to turn back to him. There was something about her that stirred a protective instinct in him, a
feeling entirely foreign toward anyone who wasn’t family. She was smiling, but there was an
undercurrent of pain breaking through her friendliness.
He didn’t like it.
“I guess that’s fair,” she relented, turning back to him and leaning against the wall.
“I haven’t seen you here before. What’s your name?” His question was simple, but the
desire in his eyes was not as he licked his bottom lip and admired how perfectly her uniform
hugged her curves, even on her small figure.
“Clare Ivers. I’m new in town. Needed a job.” She shrugged, not divulging much, but he felt
a sliver of hope when he saw that the smile on her face had yet to disappear.
He knew that she could feel his attraction toward her when he saw the blush creep up her
cheeks. The smile she couldn’t push away told him she was enjoying their banter as much as
he was.
Despite her clear interest, there was a hint of disapproval as he watched her eyes roam over
his torso. It was a look he was way too familiar with from the last year. Rory worried he might be
slurring his words or sounding more drunk than he felt.
Wouldn’t be the first time, he thought.
“Your turn.” She pointed at him, biting the corner of her lip in an attempt to hide her smile.
“Mhuirnín means sweetheart. If you’re going to work in Woodlawn, Clare, you gotta learn
some Irish.”
“Is that right? I guess I’ll have to find a good tutor then,” she taunted, before turning on her
heels and sauntering off.
Buy Links
Sarah Robinson is the bestselling author of The Photographer Trilogy and the Sand &
Clay rock star series. A native of Washington, D.C., Robinson has both her bachelor’s
and master’s degrees in criminal psychology. She is married to a local police officer who
is just as much of an animal rescue enthusiast as she is. Together, they own a zoo of
rescue and foster animals.
Website: http://booksbysarahrobinson.net/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/BooksBySarahRobinson/timeline
Twitter: https://twitter.com/booksby_sarah
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7738947.Sarah_Robinson
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