Free The Balled And The Beautiful: A College Sports Romance Story by Nicole Chance

cooed something in Greek, offering one of his hands to her. She winced back but immediately stumbled forward with a shriek when she came into contact with another warm body behind her. The men had caught up with her, more sooner than she had expected.
    "Hello, princess," the man behind her teased, his English accented and rough. "You lost?"
    She shook her head mutely, taking a step to the side as an attempt to get around the man in front of her. He shifted with her, his grin only widening.
    "What? Don't have time for us? Come on princess; give us a smile. We just wanna get to know you!" A painfully strong pair of hands wrapped around her arms. She took a deep breath to scream but the smiling man slapped her, hard. The pain set her gasping, her head spinning. Her knees shook in terror and confusion and she yanked against her captor, her arms screaming at the movement. It did no good. The man’s grip only tightened as the other man pulled out a burlap sack, from his where it had been tucked into his back pocket.
    She jerked back in horror, twisting as far as she could. The movement only pressed her face closer to the cloth that was being pressed against her nose and mouth. The sticky sweet smell burned as she sucked in a breath and tears began to well up in her eyes. The world seemed to sway, and there was a ringing in her ears that set her head pounding. She held her breath for as long as she could, struggling to knock the cloth away, but the man kept it clamped tightly to her face. Her second deep breath had her blinking rapidly, fighting back the growing darkness at the edges of her vision.
    "HEY!" The sudden shout seemed to surprise them. The man holding her slightly loosened his grip, and she lurched forward. One of her arms ripped free, but as she turned to pull her other arm out of his hold, she found the world shifting beneath her, as her legs fell limp beneath her. The only thing that kept her upright was the agonizing grip of her captor.
    "Let her go." The new voice was sharp, with a vaguely English accent.
    "Get lost, asshole," the man growled. "Or my boys will have to help you on your way."
    "I said, let her go," the voice snapped again. Amanda tried to look up towards her would-be savior, but her head was heavy and her eyes didn't seem to want to open. When the hand keeping her up suddenly let go, the ground rushed up to meet her. She barely got her hands beneath her in time to keep from hitting the cobblestones.
    The sounds of a scuffle broke out around her. It wasn't like the movies, full of shouting and the sound of flesh on flesh. As she fought to look up she could only hear occasional grunts of pain and the shuffle of feet. The road was cold and wet beneath her. As a wave of nausea hit her, she gave up the fight to raise her head, letting her cheek fall to the slick stone.
    A shout of pain jerked her back from the edge of unconsciousness.
    "Bastard!" the man shrieked angrily. His voice was moving away as four sets of footsteps disappeared down the street.
    A hand pressed gently against her shoulder, and she flinched. The hand remained steady on her shoulder and the unfamiliar voice spoke again.
    "Miss? Are you alright? Can you sit up?"
    She managed to lever herself up enough to look up at her rescuer. The light of a nearby window was enough to reveal him, and she couldn't help but stare. He was lovel y. His soft brown eyes were full of concern. High, sharp cheeks were flushed with exertion and full lips were open slightly as he panted. She swallowed, trying to push herself upright without looking away as her found her gaze caught up by an angular nose, square jaw and broad shoulders.
    He shifted closer. His warm heat and the scent of sweat, soap, and something indescribably masculine filled her senses. He managed to get a strong arm wrapped around her waist and together they lurched upright. Her heart thudded painfully and she looked at him again, surprised by the strength of her reaction to his touch.
    But as