Andy Murray - Andy Murray: Seventy-Seven - Headline
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    • ISBN:9780755365975
    • Publication date:05 Jun 2014
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    • ISBN:9780755365982
    • Publication date:07 Nov 2013

Andy Murray: Seventy-Seven

By Andy Murray

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From the winner of the 2013 BBC Sports Personality of the Year award, this is Andy Murray's Sunday Times bestselling account of his road to Wimbledon glory.

Andy Murray is one of Britain's best loved athletes. On the 7th July 2013 he became the first British man to lift the Wimbledon trophy for 77 years. His new book, Andy Murray: Seventy-Seven, will take us on a personal journey through his career. Focusing on the last two dramatic years, he will share with us his thoughts on the pivotal moments of his playing career and allow us a glimpse into his world - his intense training regime, his close-knit team and his mental and physical battle to get to the very top. This beautiful and very personal book will be a stunning celebration of Andy's career so far.

Biographical Notes

Andy Murray, currently ranked number 4 in the world, is the British No.1 and reigning Wimbledon and Olympic Men's Singles Champion.

From winning his first tournament as an under-10 junior at the Dunblane Sports Club, to his first junior major at the US Open, it became apparent very early that Andy was destined for the top.

After turning pro in 2005, Andy won his first ATP title, the SAP open in San Jose, a year later. Fast forward two years and seven more tour titles, he reached his first grand slam final, the 2008 US Open.

In 2012, having lost in three subsequent grand slam final appearances, Andy became the US Open Champion. This was hot on the heels of an illustrious Gold Medal victory at Wimbledon during the London 2012 Olympics.

Andy then ended years of heartbreak on the same turf just a year later by becoming the first Brit in 77 years to win the highly coveted Men's Singles title at the Wimbledon Championships.

On Sunday December 15th, Andy was voted the BBC Sports Personality of the Year for 2013.

  • Other details

  • ISBN: 9780755365968
  • Publication date: 07 Nov 2013
  • Page count: 288

Andy Murray

Andy Murray, currently ranked number 3 in the world, is the British No.1 and reigning Wimbledon, US Open and Olympic Singles Champion. From winning his first tournament as an under-10 junior at the Dunblane Sports Club, to his first junior major at the US Open, it became apparent very early that Andy was destined for the top.After turning pro in 2005, Andy won his first ATP title, the SAP open in San Jose, a year later. Fast forward two years and seven more tour titles, he reached his first grand slam final, the 2008 US Open. In 2012, having lost in three subsequent grand slam final appearances, Andy became the US Open Champion. This was hot on the heels of an illustrious Gold Medal victory at Wimbledon during the London 2012 Olympics. Andy then ended years of heartbreak on the same turf just a year later by becoming the first Brit in 77 years to win the highly coveted Mens Singles title at the Wimbledon Championships.


The Headline Publishing Group is delighted to announce the acquisition of Andy Murray: 77 – a new beautifully illustrated book from the British Wimbledon Champion.

November Man Books

November's a nice month isn't it? Sure, it's getting cold, but it's not full-on freezing cold winter yet. The football season is well and truly underway (the yellow ball will soon be out), it's still far too early to be worrying about what to buy your mum for Christmas, and there are some damn good books out as well. Here's our pick of the best November titles.

Best of 2013

As 2013 draws to a close, we look back on some of our highlights of the past twelve months...

Where Were You?

Blog: Andy Murray, Wimbledon 2013

‘Where were you when...?’ is a game of immense value. Questions such as, Where were you when Elvis died, when the twin towers fell or when Princess Diana died? are ones to keep in your back pocket for necessary small-talk-scenarios, when the conversation is dwindling at dinner parties or when you're two-thirds through your long haul flight. But this game does much more than simply enliven the chatter accompanying the proffering of After Eights. It makes the momentous microscopic, it takes grandiose events experienced by everyone and translates them to a more personal level – and this summer, on 8th July 2013 on Centre Court at Wimbledon, Andy Murray did not just become the first male to win Wimbledon since Fred Perry in 1936; he unwittingly added fresh new material to this game. Now, ‘Where were you when Andy Murray won Wimbledon?’ will forever be immortalised as a legitimate question to add to the list, to which all proud Brits will have a good, patriotic story to share. To prove this, I presented the question to the office - read their varied and wonderful tales below... Read on to the end – David McTeague’s is my favourite! Abigail Mitchell - Sales - I was at a really nice pub in Stratford (very close to where Andy won his gold medal at the Olympics!) with my best friend (also Scottish). We sat outside in the sunshine watching the big screen while enjoying the outdoor BBQ. We both shed a little tear when Andy won! Jenny Karat - Regional Manager I was on holiday with my husband and children in Provence, along with two other families. It was a baking hot day; we had many bottles of chilled rose, a pool to cool off in and we switched the huge television on for the only time during the week we were there. Watching Andy Murray win in those surroundings with our friends was a Wimbledon I will never forget! Emily Griffin - Editorial I spent the match crouched on my living-room floor (not the sofa, it was too tense for the sofa) conveying my support/frustration/excitement/despair to the TV. If the match had gone to a fourth set, there’s absolutely no way I (never mind Murray) would have had the stamina to cope. Top sporting drama! Darcy Nicholson - Editorial Before I was taken there as a translator, I had never heard of Gabon in Africa. And yet, when Murray won Wimbledon there I was, sitting in the lobby of a hotel in the country’s capital, freezing cold in the path of a manic air-conditioning unit. We watched the match on a French channel, revelling in the eccentric commentary but despising the ad breaks in live TV – the BBC wouldn’t have dared! By the time Murray won, we had the entire hotel behind him; we cheered, we cried and we celebrated with local beer. Highly recommended. Lynsey Sutherland - Marketing I was watching the final in the park, with a makeshift iPad/pizza box set-up (see below). Our iPad ran out of battery in the last game so we rushed home but just missed the last 5 minutes!!! Noooo! Christina Demosthenous - Editorial I was at a screen in Kings Cross next to Central St Martin’s college. It was absolutely packed and the atmosphere was buzzing. We were drinking Pimms in the sunshine and cooling off in the water fountains in the breaks. It was so summery and British! Beau Merchant - Marketing I was on a nudist beach in Croatia (romantic). The bar overlooking the beach had wi-fi so I was following it on the BBC website / Twitter. Our boat to the mainland left at a certain time which meant I missed the final set! We bumped into a group of Scots that night out celebrating so it wasn't all bad news. Frances Edwards - Editorial I was at a music festival up in the Yorkshire Dales and part of a throng of people completely ignoring the band, desperately refreshing live BBC coverage every two minutes and getting stressed at the lack of phone signal. Someone must have managed it in the end as a mass cheer went up when he won and an electro-ceilidh struck up on stage! And the semi-famous David McTeague - Commercial... I was standing on a hill surrounded by other tennis fanatics, knackered after camping all night in Wimbledon, slightly inebriated after drinking wine all morning in the queue, and to be honest, crying shortly after this picture was grabbed off the TV. Such an amazing moment.


The Sunday Times top ten bestseller Lisa Gardner's latest thriller, TOUCH AND GO, is out now in paperback. Here's an exclusive look at chapter one to whet your appetite...

Hachette Scotland

The Winning Touch: My Autobiography

Stevie Chalmers With Graham Mc, Coll

One of Celtic's greatest ever strikers, Stevie Chalmers epitomised the exciting attacking football with which Celtic took Europe by storm during the 1960s. It was Stevie who scored the golden goal in the 1967 European Cup final that clinched the great trophy for Celtic and that saw him and his team-mates immortalised as the Lisbon Lions. Stevie was the Glasgow club's leading scorer in that amazing 1966-67 season, when they became the first British club to reign as champions of Europe and in which they scooped up every trophy at home. He was also the club's most prolific striker during the 1960s, becoming leading goalscorer for Celtic four times during that decade.It was appropriate, then, that it should be Stevie Chalmers who should nip in ahead of everyone five minutes from time in Lisbon to finish off, with finesse, the challenge of Internazionale of Milan, the richest and most successful club in the world. It was the most magical moment in Celtic's history and Stevie describes here, in fascinating detail, just how he came to be in the right place at the right time to write himself into history. Here for the first time Stevie relates key inside details of Celtic's path to glory, his own enormous personal battle to overcome a near-fatal illness to become a footballer and his sometimes uneasy relationship with Jock Stein, the Celtic manager. It all underlines the momentousness of his being there to accomplish that match-winning feat on Celtic's greatest-ever day.

Posted by Leah Woodburn, Editorial

Blog: Our First Blog Post!

Welcome! We’re very excited that we now have somewhere to air our news and views on all things publishing and beyond. Think of it as a work in progress for now: it will, before we know it, be a slick and well-oiled machine. Until then, be kind…

Posted by Richard Roper, Editorial

Blog: Musical Mystery Tour

We all have that moment at one time or another when a piece of music comes on in the background and you have to stop what you're doing and just listen. This is a regular occurrence for me on Friday afternoons as fellow Headliner Bríd launches into a rendition of an eighties classic and I stop what I'm doing and wonder why cats are fighting with dentists' drills in the office.


Steven Gerrard: My Liverpool Story

Steven Gerrard

Steven Gerrard is a genuine Liverpool legend.Captain at the age of 23.Two FA Cups.Three League Cups.One UEFA Cup.And that Champions League win.Gerrard embodies the spirit and passion of Liverpool football club like no other in the modern era.From the raw but talented youngster who made the jump from the Melwood training ground and took to the famous Anfield turf at 18, to the talismanic skipper who has led his beloved club through thick and thin, this stunningly illustrated book, complete with exclusive new photographs, is the story of his fifteen momentous seasons at Liverpool FC.Along with a foreword from Kenny Dalglish, this is Steven Gerrard's Liverpool story in his own words.


Matt Dawson's Lions Tales

Matt Dawson

Matt Dawson's Lions Tales gives rugby fans a satisfying dose of wonderful Lions anecdotes, epic stories of triumph and despair, of camaraderie and controversy, and stirring examples of that special bond that only competing in the white heat of battle, halfway round the world, against the mighty All Blacks, Wallabies and Springboks, can engender.Lions Tales is peppered with insight and laugh-out-loud moments, dredged from the memory banks of Dawson's own time in the iconic red shirt, and also from his keen interest in the Lions' remarkable 125-year traditions.


A Lot of Hard Yakka

Simon Hughes

From the Eye of the Hurricane

Alex Higgins

Considered by many to be a genius at his peak, Alex Higgins's unorthodox play and exciting style earned him the nickname 'Hurricane' and led to his immense popularity and fame. In 1972 he became the youngest winner of the World Championship, repeating his victory in emotional style in 1982. Higgins's story is so much more than just snooker. Head-butting tournament officials, threatening to shoot team-mates, getting involved with gangsters, abusing referees, affairs with glamorous women, frequent fines and lengthy bans, all contributed to Higgins slipping down the rankings as he succumbed to drink and lost his fortune. After suffering throat cancer, Alex Higgins now reflects on his turbulent life and career in his first full autobiography. The Hurricane is back - prepare to be caught up in the carnage.


Great Olympic Moments

Sir Steve Redgrave

Complete with stunning, specially selected photographs, Sir Steve Redgrave recounts his favourite Olympic stories and reveals what it is that makes these moments truly great. All the stars of past and present are here, including Seb Coe, Steve Ovett, Nadia Comaneci, Mark Spitz, Jesse Owens, Fanny Blankers-Koen, Bob Beamon, Ed Moses, Flojo, Eric the Eel, Michael Johnson, Eric Liddell, Daley Thompson, Chris Boardman, Cassius Clay and Kelly Holmes.Also included are some of the more infamous moments of Olympic history, including Black Power 1968, the Munich hostage crisis of 1972, Mary Decker Slaney's clash with Zola Budd in LA 1984 and Ben Johnson's disqualification at Seoul 1988, to name but a few.

Posted by Maura Brickell, Publicity

Blog: Let's Party Like It's 1986!

It is over a week since Headline’s 25th birthday party and the pink dust is beginning to settle, those high heel related wounds have healed and normal service has been well and truly restored at 338 Euston Road.


Jonny: My Autobiography

Jonny Wilkinson

Jonny Wilkinson's career has crossed three decades and four World Cups. He has accumulated phenomenal achievements, world points records, an impressive list of broken body parts, and a drop goal that will be remembered for ever. But the peculiar calmness with which he played the game masked a very different reality. In JONNY, he reveals the extraordinary psychology that he had to tame in order to be able to dominate his sport. For most of his life, he was driven by a quest for perfection and an obsession to be the best player in the world; here he shows how these two facets of his competitive mind took such a hold of him that they sent him to the top of the world, then swept him up and dragged him down into a spiral of despair. Jonny's career has spanned the far reaches: amazing highs and iconic moments, then a fight against injury that culminated in a battle with depression. Here he tells of the physical toll he knew his body was taking from rugby, even from his youth; he tells of how he never wanted to be a kicking fly-half but learned to adapt his natural game to play the style that Clive Woodward believed necessary to win a World Cup, and how he nearly walked out on Martin Johnson's England team 13 years later.Praise for Jonny Wilkinson:'I consider myself really lucky to have had him as a player'Sir Clive Woodward'I'm humbled to have played alongside him'Lewis Moody'Jonny has been the best player to play for England in any of the leading ball games this century. He has been brilliant, he has been the rock on which success was built, he has won the biggest prize of all and done so with style and grace and elegance'Simon Barnes, The Times'Exceptional has been a word commonly associated with Wilkinson throughout his career'The Guardian'Thanks for the memories, Jonny. English supporters will never forget how you made them feel'Robert Kitson, The Guardian'Jonny Wilkinson was English sport as it likes to imagine itself: intrepid, handsome, physically indomitable and blessed with grace under pressure'Paul Hayward, Daily Telegraph'There are not many like him: humble, self-effacing and utterly devoted to his cause. He may not have considered himself a superstar. But everyone else did'Mike Cleary, Daily Telegraph'No one came close to squeezing so much from his God-given talent, and for that alone, Wilkinson is worthy of undying regard'The Independent


David Beckham

David Beckham

David Beckham is the world's most famous football icon. In May this year he brought down the curtain on a hugely successful playing career that spanned two decades, during which he proudly wore the shirts of Manchester United, Real Madrid, LA Galaxy, AC Milan, Paris Saint-Germain, and England. He captained his country on 58 occasions, winning 115 international caps in total, an English record for an outfield player. His colourful and stellar career has been characterised by the emotional highs of great goals and remarkable trophy successes around the world, as well as by more than the occasional moment of set-back, disappointment and despair, but through it all Beckham has emerged as a universally adored figure, both inside and outside the game. Here, intimately talking us through 150 of his favourite images which define his playing days, he invites us behind the scenes of an incredible 20-year footballing journey.

Posted by Morgan McCarthy, Author


The Great Gatsby, F. Scott Fitzgerald's Jazz Age masterpiece, has been one of my favourite novels since I first read it in school. The elegant, spare construction, the exquisite prose and the brutally vivid characters defined for me what writing ought to be, and (while I can only hope to capture them a fraction as well as Fitzgerald) its themes of beauty, longing and loss have had a strong influence on my first novel, The Other Half of Me. When the narrator of The Great Gatsby, Nick Carraway, arrives at Long Island's old-money community of East Egg, he is at first enchanted by this idyll of ease and privilege. His cousin Daisy, her husband Tom and their set drift effortlessly through life, buoyed by wealth and their sense of being rightfully placed at the very apex of society. Gatsby, a newcomer to Long Island, appears to be the most languidly purposeless of all, presiding over his endless, legendary parties. But below the surface Gatsby is lashed on by his own fierce dreams, while East Egg society is underlaid by desperation and violence, glimpsed when Tom breaks his mistress's nose, then finally laid bare with three sudden, bloody deaths. I took inspiration from this while writing my first novel, The Other Half of Me. It begins with its narrator, Jonathan Anthony, looking back on his own his early life with his family at Evendon, their remote, greenly beautiful country estate, which is presided over by his charismatic grandmother Eve. But Jonathan's paradise is seductive and as shaky as Gatsby's, and he finds himself watching as family secrets, drugs, and mental illness threaten this delicately balanced existence. In The Great Gatsby Fitzgerald also meditates on the power of the past. I've never forgotten the novel's painfully lovely, melancholic final line: 'So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past'. Gatsby, after a brief romance, has spent his life dreaming of having Daisy: a longing that becomes all-consuming, expressing his ideas of heaven on earth. As Nick observes, once Gatsby has found Daisy again: 'his dream must have seemed so close he could hardly fail to grasp it. But what he did not know was that it was already behind him, somewhere in the vast obscurity beyond the city.' Similarly, Jonathan's model of himself - his forward-facing ambition - has its roots in his early vision of Eve; the moment she arrived at Evendon with the power to repair his disordered childhood and make everything right. Both Jonathan and Gatsby think they are looking to the future, striving for a happiness they can't truly comprehend, but their dream is actually of something in their past. In both cases, the dream is already over. Gatsby's story ends in death, though Nick Carraway - and Jonathan - get a second chance.



Sir Steve Redgrave
February Book of the Month

In the Green Mountain state it's time to fall in love

The short ride into town was full of awkward silence. Sensing his irritation with her, Cameron chose to stay quiet instead of peppering him with questions about the town, the state and what he might know about the Green Mountain Country Store. “You got a name?” he asked. “Cameron.” “What kind of name is that for a girl?” Instantly on the offensive, Cameron glared at him. “It’s the kind of name my parents gave me - and I had it long before Cameron Diaz was famous.” “Who?” Astounded, Cameron swiveled in her seat. “Tell me the truth - have I been abducted by aliens? It’s okay. You can give it to me straight. I can take it.” “I don’t know about aliens, but I may as well tell you I have no idea who Cliff Clavin is either.” Cameron’s mouth fell open. “The know-it-all mailman from Cheers? One of the top-rated shows of the eighties and nineties?” “So you think I’m a know-it-all, huh?” “You sound rather proud of that.” “Well, you don’t have to be a know-it-all to get that wearing suede boots to Vermont in March isn’t the brightest idea you’ll ever have.” “Pardon my ignorance, but I’ve never been here before.” “All that technology laying in your lap, and you never got the 411 on the mud.” He snorted out a laugh. “Anyone ever tell you that you can be somewhat insufferable?” Arching an eyebrow, he smirked at her. “Only somewhat? I’ve fallen short of my goal.” Exasperated, Cameron shifted to look out the passenger window. “Was it something I said?” She shook her head in disbelief. The guy was too much. “What’s your name anyway?” “Will Abbott.” That got her attention. “Any relation to Lincoln Abbott?” “That’d be my dad. How do you know him?” “I don’t actually know him. Yet. I’m due to meet him tomorrow.” “For what purpose?” “To build a website for his store.” “Damn it!” Will slammed the heel of his hand on the wheel. “I can’t believe him! We told him we didn’t want it!” “We?” Cameron made an effort to keep the waver out of her voice. Would this interminable day ever end? “My siblings and I. We’re his partners.” “Oh.” Since the company had no website, she’d found precious little information about it online and had planned to start from scratch once she got to town. “Let me guess - when he hired you he never mentioned that his children voted against a website.” “Um, no, that didn’t come up.” “This is so typical. He brings one of his big ideas to us, we tell him we aren’t interested, and then he does it anyway.” “If you’re partners, how does he get away with that?” “Because he owns the majority - fifty percent. The other fifty percent is split between the ten of us. Five of us help him run the store and vote proxy for the others. The other fi ve provide a variety of products to the store.” “Ten of you?” “I’m one of ten.” “You have ten kids in your family?” “Yeah, so?” “I’ve never known anyone who had more than four kids in their family.” “Well, now you know someone who has ten.” As an only child, Cameron tried to wrap her head around what it might’ve been like to grow up with nine siblings. “What are their names?” “You want to know the names of my siblings?” he asked, as if that was the stupidest question he’d ever heard. “Yeah, I guess I do. If I’m going to be stuck in the middle of your family feud it would be good to know the people I’m dealing with.” “Feud is kind of a strong word, but we do argue. A lot.” He sighed and tightened his grip on the wheel. “Hunter and Hannah are the oldest. They’re twins.” “Ten kids and twins too?” “Two sets of twins. Lucas and Landon are second from the youngest. They’re identical twins.” “That’s so cool.” He glanced over at her, seeming confounded by her interest in his family. But to Cameron, who’d grown up painfully alone, families like his only existed on the TV shows she’d glommed on to, looking for a family anywhere she could find one. “I’m after Hunter and Hannah. Then comes Ella, Charlotte, Wade, Colton, Lucas and Landon and then Max.” “Wow. That’s a lot of kids.” “Yep.” “Is your mom in an asylum?” His bark of laughter took her by surprise. “Nah. She rolls with it all. I’ve never met anyone as quietly efficient as she is. She always made it look easy.” “How do you make ten kids look easy?” “I don’t know, but somehow she did.” “So which five are involved in the business?” “That’d be me, Hunter, Ella, Charlotte and Wade. Several of the others are involved in businesses that feed products to the store. Colton runs the family sugaring facility that makes maple syrup, and Max helps him out when he’s able to between classes. He’s a senior at UVM. Landon has a woodworking business and oversees the volunteer fi refighting department in town. Hannah makes jewelry. Lucas manages the family’s Christmas tree farm and helps Landon with the fire department. I think that’s everyone accounted for.” “Just out of curiosity— why don’t you and your siblings want a website?” “Because we don’t need one. We have a very nice business just the way it is. A website will bring a bunch of issues we aren’t interested in dealing with.” “Such as?” “We’ll have to hire people to fulfi ll orders, set up a distribution center, figure out shipping. So many headaches.” “But it could grow your business exponentially.” “We don’t want to grow our business. It’s fine the way it is.” He drove into a quaint little New England town with a signature white-steeple church, a volunteer fire department, a combination café and gallery, and there, in the middle of everything, the Green Mountain Country Store. In the dark, it was hard to see much, but it seemed small next to some of the other buildings and boasted a quaint front porch. They were past it before she could ascertain much of anything else. Will pulled into a parking lot behind a large white Victorian house. “Where are we?” “I assume you’re staying at the inn since it’s the only place in town that takes guests.” Cameron pulled out the confirmation message she had printed at home. “The Admiral Frances Butler Inn?” “That’s it.” He cut the engine and got out of the truck. By the time she emerged onto thankfully dry pavement, he’d fetched her luggage from the back. “Can you hand me the black bag? My running shoes are in there.” He retrieved the bag she pointed to and dropped it in front of her. “You don’t have to shoot the messenger, you know,” she said. “What does that mean?” “Just because you’re mad at your dad for hiring me doesn’t mean you have to be cranky with me.” “You were irritating me long before I knew my dad had hired you.” “You’re just full of charm, aren’t you?” she asked as she pulled on sneakers. “So I’m told.” “By who?” He waggled his brows at her. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” “Actually, I really wouldn’t.” “Suit yourself,” he said with a shrug as he led her into the back door of the inn. He seemed to know his way around, so she followed him through a series of hallways to the front desk where he rang the bell on the counter. The place smelled like potpourri and lemon-scented furniture polish. An older woman came through the door wearing a housecoat, pin curlers in her hair and a warm, welcoming smile on her plump face. “Hi, Will. What a nice surprise. What brings you in tonight?” “Hi there, Mrs. Hendricks. I’ve brought you a guest. Cameron . . .” “Oh,” the older woman said, resting a hand on her head as if she just remembered her curlers. “I look a sight.” “You’re pretty as a picture, just like always,” Will said. “Will Abbott,” Mrs. Hendricks said as her face turned bright red, “you could charm a bird out of a tree.” Will sent Cameron a smug smile, as if to say “Told ya so.” Cameron cleared her throat, hoping to remind Mrs. Hendricks that a paying customer was waiting to check in. “Cameron Murphy. Pleased to meet you, Mrs. Hendricks.” The other woman fi nally looked at her and gasped. “Oh my! What happened to your face?” Cameron raised her hands to her face, remembering the moment of impact and how her nose had hurt afterward. “What?” “You have two black eyes,” Mrs. Hendricks said. “And your nose . . .” Alarmed, Cameron looked around for a mirror. “What about my nose?” She walked across the small lobby to a framed mirror and shrieked at what she saw. Her nose was swollen and sure enough, dark bruises were forming under her eyes. “Oh my God!” Turning back to find Will leaning against the counter and Mrs. Hendricks looking on with concern, Cameron marched back over to confront him. “Why didn’t you tell me?” “Tell you what?” “That my face was all banged up!” “Um, maybe because I figured you’d hardly need me to tell you that something had smacked you in the face.” “It must’ve been the airbag,” she said, remembering that moment of utter blackness. Had she passed out? She’d been ignoring the pain in her face as she tried to get her bearings with Will, but now that they mentioned it, her nose was throbbing rather insistently. “The airbag would also explain the burn on your neck,” Will added. “Burn?” Her voice was a shrill squeak. “What burn?” He leaned in closer to her, and she swore her heart skipped a beat as she caught a whiff of his outdoorsy scent. The touch of his finger on her neck sent a shocking bolt of heat straight through her, landing in a tingle between her legs. What in the name of hell was that about? “There.” As if he’d touched something hot, Will pulled back his hand and straightened out of that insolent slouch he did so well.The two of them stared at each other for a long heated moment. “Was there an accident?” Mrs. Hendricks asked, interrupting the intense interlude. “She hit Fred,” Will said gravely. Mrs. Hendricks brought a hand to her ample chest. “Oh! Is he okay?” “He seemed no worse for the wear,” Will said. “Good thing it was a small car.” “It was a new car!” Cameron said, wondering if anyone in this godforsaken town would care that her adorable little car was no longer adorable. “Well, as long as he’s okay,” Mrs. Hendricks said as if Cameron hadn’t spoken. Then she turned to Cameron. “I can call Doc Edwards for you, if you’d like.” “Thank you, but that’s not necessary.” All Cameron wanted was a warm bath and an ice pack for her throbbing nose. “Could I borrow the phone to call Nolan about her car?” Will asked. “Of course.” Mrs. Hendricks handed him the portable phone, and he dialed a number from memory. While Cameron completed the check-in paperwork and handed over her credit card, Will filled Nolan in on the accident. “Yep, she ran smack into poor old Fred.” A pause. “He seemed fine, but we might want to send the doc after him in the morning to make sure.” Glowering at him, Cameron whispered, “The car. Remember the car?” He met her glower with a scowl. “Now, about the car.” Finally, Cameron thought, signing on the dotted line for Mrs. Hendricks and accepting the key to her third-floor room. Will handed the phone back to Mrs. Hendricks. “Nolan’s going to fetch the car tonight so no one hits it out on the road. He said to check in with him in the morning. The garage is across the street.” Pointing toward the front door. “That way.” “Thank you.” Cameron forced herself to look up at him and all his beauty. “I appreciate your help.” His eyes, she realized were light brown, almost gold. Why did he have to be so spectacularly gorgeous and so outrageously cranky? “You need help getting your stuff upstairs?” The idea of him following her to a hotel room sent more tingling awareness rippling through her. “I can do it.” But before the words were out of her mouth, he was already heading to the stairs with her bags. Uttering a quick thank you to Mrs. Hendricks, Cameron scurried after him. On the third floor, he deposited her suitcases outside Room 18. He stopped so suddenly that Cameron nearly ran into his broad back. Turning, he caught her inches from his chest, and the awareness that had sizzled between them downstairs chose that moment to reappear. Cameron had never experienced such an overpowering need to touch another person. She rolled her hands into fists to keep from acting on the impulse. “Listen,” he said, haltingly, “you seem like a nice enough person.” “Wow, thanks.” Charming? Whatever. His expression turned stormy. “What I was going to say is that things are apt to get a little heated tomorrow at the meeting. Don’t take it personally, okay? Our beef is with him, not you.” “I’m here to do a job. Nothing about this is personal.” “Good,” he said, apparently picking up on her double meaning as she’d hoped he would. “Let’s keep it that way.” “Fine by me.” “You might want to put some ice on your nose,” he said as he headed down the stairs. Too bad he missed the gesture she made at his retreating back.