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Wild For You
Debbi Rawlins


She's driving him wild!Aspiring director Erin Murphy has sunk everything (including her food budget) into an independent Western movie. And she has the perfect location for the final scene—if she can get stubborn rancher Spencer Hunt to agree. With her future in the balance, Erin can't afford to screw this up. Even if it means she has to play dirty…The moment he sees Erin's long legs and red heels, Spencer knows he's in deep, deep trouble. Suddenly his hard-won solitude is shattered by this fiercely determined woman, and damned if he can resist. But he’ll never let the film crew invade his land. Until longing turns into lust…and he realises Erin may be more than just a sexy diversion.







She’s driving him wild!

Aspiring director Erin Murphy has sunk everything (including her food budget) into an independent Western movie. And she has the perfect location for the final scene—if she can get stubborn rancher Spencer Hunt to agree. With her future in the balance, Erin can’t afford to screw this up. Even if it means she has to play dirty...

The moment he sees Erin’s long legs and red heels, Spencer knows he’s in deep, deep trouble. Suddenly, his hard-won solitude is shattered by this fiercely determined woman, and damned if he can resist. But he’ll never let the film crew invade his land. Until longing turns into lust...and he realizes Erin may be more than just a sexy diversion.


You’ll never get enough of these cowboys!

Bestselling Harlequin Blaze author Debbi Rawlins makes all your cowboy dreams come true with her popular miniseries

Made in Montana.

The little town of Blackfoot Falls isn’t so sleepy anymore...

In fact, it seems everyone’s staying up late!

Get your hands on a hot cowboy with

#892 Come Closer, Cowboy

(May 2016)

#905 Wild for You

(August 2016)

#917 Hot Winter Nights

(November 2016)

And remember, the sexiest cowboys are Made in Montana!


Dear Reader (#u720f8570-df21-5231-bf43-1b2ea22a5bad),

Yes, we’re still here in Blackfoot Falls, which is growing like crazy...unlike the small rural town where I’ve been living for the past ten years. We still have only one vet, and since I have a lot of animals, I know him pretty well.

Last year one of my pooches got into some mischief that required a visit to the doc. While I dialed the office, hoping and praying that the vet (whom I’ll call John) would be there and wasn’t making ranch calls, I got the idea for this book.

Now, John has a certain hobby that makes me a little crazy. To my mind, it’s too risky for a forty-year-old part-timer. I’m not a pessimist by nature, but he is the only vet for seventy miles. And I trust him completely. What if he was put out of commission?

To occupy myself while I waited for my dog, I came up with Spencer, the hero in this book. After I paid the bill and they resuscitated me, I asked John a bunch of questions to help me develop the character. And then I lectured him on taking unnecessary risks. He just laughed and ignored me. He’s married, so he’s got that down to a science.

Hope you enjoy the story!

All my best,









Wild for You

Debbi Rawlins





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


DEBBI RAWLINS grew up in the country and loved Western movies and books. Her first crush was on a cowboy—okay, he was an actor in the role of a cowboy, but she was only eleven, so it counts. It was Houston, Texas, where she first started writing for Harlequin, and now she has her own ranch...of sorts. Instead of horses, she has four dogs, four cats, a trio of goats and free-range cattle on a few acres in gorgeous rural Utah.


Contents

Cover (#ua92539db-d466-5d39-99cf-06d23346bb17)

Back Cover Text (#u4a1664b0-6797-5a16-8573-c45ef3ee24a9)

Introduction (#u504f7053-9b3d-53cc-897e-3ac65520e4e6)

Dear Reader

Title Page (#u2d0c6e28-140d-5b9f-adbb-a3f07a0c3df9)

About the Author (#uac3048e6-e782-5b83-954c-904b8eed5797)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Extract (#litres_trial_promo)

Copyright (#litres_trial_promo)


1 (#u720f8570-df21-5231-bf43-1b2ea22a5bad)

ERIN MURPHY TURNED onto Main Street and nearly had heart failure. How could a small, isolated Montana town have changed so much in three months? Blackfoot Falls didn’t have a single traffic light, but the new steak house’s flashing pink neon sign could probably be seen from Mars. Early-bird specials written with black marker on colored paper covered half the window. But she could live with those, misspellings and all. They lent to the charm of the quirky town.

She drove past the newly opened motel that had been under construction when she’d first discovered Blackfoot Falls. Erin would’ve preferred the modern building wasn’t there, but she had taken it into consideration when she’d made a deal with the mayor, so no sweat on that front.

A small bakery now occupied a formerly empty storefront. Nothing flashy, so that wasn’t too bad. Next to it, the Full Moon Saloon was new, too, but it had a cool vibe to it that could probably work in her favor.

Maybe.

Whatever.

She’d make it work. She had to.

The whole reason Erin had returned was to fix something she’d failed to do the first time around. Now she had another problem to solve...before the director had a stroke.

The independent film for which she’d been scouting locations was on a tight budget. She’d counted on those buildings being empty. It was a lot cheaper to stage than change.

All she could do for the moment was breathe. And hope the mayor had made allowances for the deal she’d made with Erin before leasing out the buildings. Sadie Thompson was a reasonable woman who’d understood that the group’s pockets weren’t deep, and a modest fee was better than nothing. Quite a few scenes would be shot around the quaint little town, later, in December.

Luckily, Erin made it to the other end of Main Street without encountering any more surprises. She checked into The Boarding House Inn with its restored turn-of-the-century rooms and interesting woodwork. Thank God nothing had changed since her last visit.

She dumped her duffel bag in the narrow closet and sent off a few texts. Thirty minutes ago she’d been looking forward to a much-needed nap. Now she wondered if it would be better to go snap some pictures of the new storefronts and send them to the director right away. Jason would pitch a fit no matter what, but at least she’d be giving herself more time to smooth things over.

On the other hand, she wouldn’t be at her best, being this sleep deprived. She stared out the window and tried to relax. She smiled, though, seeing the cheesy Halloween decorations on some of the buildings.

Her cell rang, and it was Lila, of course. Even though Erin had just texted her friend that they’d talk later.

“So, you’re in Blackfoot Falls. That was fast,” Lila said. “When are you going to see him?”

Erin knew him meant Spencer Hunt, the reclusive, unreasonable, ill-tempered rancher who had thrown her off his property the last time she was here. He was also hot as hell. But Erin had never let a man’s looks excuse him for being a jerk.

“This afternoon.” Erin yawned. “After I take a nap.”

Lila snorted. “We’ve been best friends since third grade. You think I can’t tell when you’re faking a yawn? You just don’t want me coaching you on how to approach Mr. Tall, Dark and Mysterious.”

“For one thing, coaching and butting in are not synonymous, and second, you’re losing your touch because that yawn was real. I left Wyoming at 4:00 this morning.”

“I was up early myself. We were shooting by 5:15 and freezing our behinds.” Lila lowered her voice. “Jason’s on a tear, cussing out everyone within hearing distance. Nothing’s going right. The film is now officially over budget, and half the crew is ready to mutiny.”

“So everything’s normal.”

“Pretty much.”

Erin rubbed her tired eyes, glad she could still find some humor in the situation. “Well, I guess that settles it. I have another small snafu and was trying to decide when to tell Jason.”

“Oh, no.”

“It’s not that big a deal, but it could cost a few bucks.”

“Yeah, now isn’t the time to bring it up.”

Erin sighed. “I need to do more digging first.”

They both had a lot riding on the indie film. So did Jason Littleton and two other friends, who’d thrown in their savings and were working their asses off for practically no money, all in the hope their modern Western would get noticed and launch their careers.

Erin and Lila had met the gang in film school, all of them full of dreams and plans to conquer Hollywood. For six years, Erin had willingly tackled every industry-related job that came her way. Like playing location scout and convincing people to allow footage to be shot on their land, sometimes in their homes.

She negotiated the fees, drew up contracts and arranged for the permits and insurance. She’d even chauffeured big shots from major studios and picked up their laundry. Just waiting to get her foot in the door. Because what she wanted more than anything was to make her own movies.

“Have you been listening at all?” Lila asked.

“Nope. Is it important? Because I seriously have to grab some sleep.”

“Look, you need to listen to me. Jason really has his heart set on filming the final shoot-out on that mountain your guy owns. He’ll forgive just about anything else but that. So if I were—”

“Screw Jason. I gave him two alternate locations. Really good ones. If Hunt doesn’t want us on his property, there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

Lila waited a moment, then said, “You’re the most persistent, driven, goal-oriented person I know. You’ll convince him. But since you already know he’s not motivated by money—”

Erin groaned. “Don’t say it.”

“It won’t kill you to wear some makeup. Maybe do something with your hair.”

“I asked you nicely...”

“And for heaven’s sake, don’t wear that big, stupid Doctor Who T-shirt.”

Erin glanced down. “Which one?”

“Come on, Erin. Just treat it like a role you’re playing. Smile. Be charming.”

“You’re the one who wants to be an actress, not me.”

“I’m just saying...” Lila paused when someone called for her, but returned quickly. “We’ve both done some crappy jobs to get this far. Using a little sex appeal won’t kill you. As for Jason...he isn’t behaving any worse than most directors.”

“Yeah, and we’ve always said we wouldn’t be like those jerks.”

“I know.” Lila sighed. “It just feels like we’re really close this time.”

“We are,” Erin said. “I feel it, too.”

Lila chuckled. “You always do. The eternal optimist. I wish I could be more like you. I really do.”

“You, my friend, are perfect just as you are.”

“But not pretty enough to nab a decent role.”

“Come on, Lila. You just said we’re close.” Erin didn’t like her friend’s resigned tone. She was just tired. Everyone on location was living out of suitcases and in drafty trailers with lousy beds. “We’re going to kill it, and for the sequel, I’ll get the assistant director’s slot and you’ll get a supporting actress role.”

“Fingers and toes crossed,” she said. “They’re calling me. I have to go. You still have the list I gave you, right? And the makeup and heels?”

“Yep.” Erin shook her head. She was the wrong person to convince Spencer Hunt to change his mind. Lila should be here instead of doing hair and makeup for that prissy Penelope Lane, who was playing the lead role.

Natural blonde Lila was gorgeous. Anywhere outside of Hollywood, she was an easy ten. And with his dark hazel eyes and his perfectly chiseled jaw, so was Spencer Hunt. Still, Erin would’ve liked to see him try to say no to Lila.

Sighing, Erin found the checklist along with the bag of her friend’s good intentions, dumped the contents on the bathroom counter and shuddered. Lots of stuff she didn’t recognize. Good thing Lila had included what to wear and makeup instructions on the list. But adding a reminder for Erin to be charming... Really?

Oh, Jesus.

She thought again about Spencer and swallowed. He was going to laugh at her. Or worse, think she was pitiful. But if pity got him to sign on the dotted line, she could live with that.

* * *

DUSTY POKED HIS HEAD into the barn. “You expecting company?”

Spencer looked up from the vaccinations he’d laid out for the twin colts. He’d lived outside Blackfoot Falls for ten months now and barely knew a dozen people. His choice. Against his objections, Dusty had followed him from Boise, but the main reason Spencer had hired the kid was so he could avoid going into town. It hadn’t stopped the nosy questions on the few occasions Spencer had picked up supplies himself, but he’d learned to deal with those.

“Nah, I didn’t think so,” Dusty said without waiting for a response. “I’ll take care of whoever it is.”

He turned back toward the road, then stopped, squinting hard and scratching his blond head.

“Problem?” Spencer asked.

“That lady from Hollywood drove a weird turquoise-colored car, didn’t she?”

Erin Murphy was back? How long had it been? Two...three months? Spencer strolled over to have a look for himself.

“Folks in town have been buzzing about that movie they’re gonna start filming soon,” Dusty said. “But no one said anything about her coming back.”

“Her name’s Erin.”

At the sound of his voice Dusty jumped. “You might wanna step back some so she can’t see you.”

Spencer shook his head. “You finish pitching hay. I’ll talk to her.”

“You sure about that?” Dusty looked disappointed. “I don’t mind telling her you aren’t here,” he said, pushing a hand through his shaggy hair, trying to tidy it up.

He’d been taken with Erin on her first visit and assumed she was an actress. She’d laughed at the idea, implied she wasn’t pretty enough. When Dusty had asked what was wrong with those guys in California, Erin had blushed and changed the subject.

Spencer had thought about the spunky brunette a few times since that day. He couldn’t say why for sure. The simple and most logical explanation was the lack of sex in his new life. Even though his eleven-month dry spell was self-imposed, he missed the warm soft body of a woman beside him. Not enough to give up his privacy. But maybe it was time to take an overnight trip out of town. Not to Idaho. He had no plans to return home anytime soon. If ever.

If not for last night’s hard rain packing the dirt road, her tires would’ve been kicking up dust. But it was easy to see the odd-colored car. He knew for sure it was Erin before she turned onto the gravel driveway and veered left to avoid a mud puddle. He’d meant to fill in holes and grade the drive before the snow came.

“Do you think she’d go out with me?” Dusty asked. He hadn’t moved, and Spencer hadn’t noticed until now.

“You’re nineteen,” Spencer said, hiding his surprise. “She must have ten years on you.”

“Things like age don’t matter nowadays. And she doesn’t act like one of those stuck-up Hollywood types, or I wouldn’t even think about asking.” Dusty dragged his gaze away from the car and studied Spencer. “I didn’t think you were interested.”

“I’m not. Ask her if you want.” Spencer almost added that he shouldn’t get his hopes up, but, hell, the kid technically was an adult. He just seemed young.

Spencer had no room to judge. His own immature arrogance had torn him from everything he’d loved and put him right here in this isolated little corner of Montana. And he’d been thirty-two at the time. No, he wasn’t about to make the mistake of getting in Dusty’s way.

They watched her park closer to the house and the stone walkway that led to the front door. Spencer didn’t think she’d spotted them. She was too busy doing something in her car.

He grabbed his hat off the worktable. No sense waiting for her to come to him. He figured he knew what she wanted, and the answer was still no. She didn’t even have to get out of the car.

“Hey, wait,” Dusty said. “You’re not gonna chase her off again, are ya?”

“If I have to.” He heard the kid muttering something, but Spencer kept walking. Sure, he’d admit he wasn’t unhappy to see her. But he prized his privacy and solitude above everything else. That wouldn’t change.

She opened her door, swung two long bare legs out and planted a pair of red high heels on the ground.

Spencer’s heart lurched in his chest and somehow cut off his supply of oxygen. Anatomically that was impossible. He knew that better than most people. But that knowledge didn’t put his equilibrium back to rights.

Stopping a few yards away from the car, he folded his arms across his chest and watched her stand. Her short denim skirt hit her just about midthigh. What he wouldn’t give to take a nice, leisurely look, but as it was, he couldn’t even swear the woman was Erin. His gaze hadn’t made it up to her face yet.

After a brief glance at her close-fitting red sweater, his gaze lingered on her mouth, on the row of straight white teeth biting into the plump flesh of her bottom lip.

He seemed to recall that her eyes were brown. But he couldn’t see them with her lashes lowered, head bent, her long dark hair falling forward and hiding half her face. She seemed more interested in the soft ground than in him. Wise move. If she wasn’t careful, she’d get those skinny heels stuck in the mud.

“Erin?”

She glanced up. Smiled. “Mr. Hunt,” she said, hanging on to the car door when she wobbled. “Hello. Nice to see you again.”

“I can’t imagine why you drove all the way out here,” he said. “We have nothing to talk about.”

“Well, I must admit...” She tilted her head slightly to the side, her smile changing to something sultrier. “I was hoping you’d changed your mind.”

Tensing when she took another shaky step, he lowered his arms to his sides. “The only reason I came out here was to save you the trouble of getting out of your car.” He glanced pointedly at her feet.

“Yeah, I never should have worn these heels out here. But I have an appointment right after this, so...” She gave a slight shrug, the pull of the sweater drawing his attention to the swell of her breasts.

He couldn’t let that distract him. “Then you might as well be on your way,” he said and watched her smile slip. It came right back, though.

She didn’t just look different; she sounded different. Her sigh was soft, not filled with impatience and frustration like it had been when he’d first turned down her request to film on his land. And if she’d worn makeup before, she’d applied it with a much lighter touch. While she hadn’t gone overboard, her high cheekbones appeared more prominent, and there was a slight sheen to her lips.

Looking past him, her smile widened suddenly. “Hi, Dusty,” she called out with a wave, still clutching the car door.

When she took an unexpected step forward, Spencer automatically offered his hand.

She blinked at it and then was about to accept his help but said, “Wait.” She turned around and reached for something inside the car.

The way she bent across the seat made Spencer think she wasn’t used to wearing skirts. He told himself not to look, but he did. Only for a second before he turned his head. He hoped Dusty hadn’t seen his brief moment of indiscretion. Spencer didn’t care for the fact that the kid considered him a mentor, but how he felt about it didn’t change anything.

Erin backed up and stood with a folder in her hand.

Probably a contract. Wouldn’t happen.

He shook his head, tempted to let her fend for herself if she insisted on being stubborn. But good manners ingrained from the minute he learned to talk wouldn’t allow it.

Again, he offered his hand, and she didn’t hesitate to take it. Her palm was smooth and soft but not as silky as most of the women he knew back in Boise.

“You couldn’t have picked a worse place to park,” he said, trying to ignore the sweet scent of her skin.

“I see that.” She took another step, her fingers curling around his knuckles. Her hand was small, but she had a strong grip.

Spencer took a shallow breath. “Look, why don’t you get back in the car and—”

Erin gasped.

She pitched forward, digging her nails into his wrist.

He looked down and saw that her left heel had sunk deep into the rain-soaked dirt. She tried pulling it free but only managed to step out of the shoe.

“Oh, God.” Mud oozed from between her toes. “Tell me this isn’t happening.”

Spencer could see she was beginning to lose her balance. “I’ve got you,” he said, keeping hold of her hand and putting an arm around her waist. “If you can just move a few inches to your right—”

The folder slipped out of her hand. She tried to make a grab for it, and he tightened his arm around her just in time to save her from a face-plant. But then she unexpectedly scrambled for the paperwork again, and all control was lost.

In the next second she was sitting in the mud and gravel, muttering curses under her breath and glaring at him as if everything was his fault.


2 (#u720f8570-df21-5231-bf43-1b2ea22a5bad)

“WHAT HAPPENED TO ‘I’ve got you’?” Erin asked, then realized her snappy tone wouldn’t get her anywhere. Neither would glaring. She glanced down at the folder that she’d luckily salvaged, and pulled herself together before she looked up with as much concern as she could muster. “I hope I didn’t get you dirty.”

Spencer extended his hand, a wry expression on his face. “You can clean up inside,” he said, sounding as though he’d rather have his arm broken than invite her into his home.

Dusty skidded to a stop inches short of the puddle. “Are you okay, Erin?” he asked as he bent to pull her shoe out of the mud.

It looked like she felt, but after a quick swipe over the bottom of her foot, she was able to slip it back on.

“Just mortified. I’ll get over it.” Again, she accepted Spencer’s hand, and as he helped her to her feet, she realized her skirt had ridden up. She jerked her hand free to tug down the hem and fell flush against his hard chest.

She froze, making sure her feet were solidly planted before she made any more sudden moves. His arm immediately came around her. Her second mistake was to look up into his eyes. Spencer’s expression remained detached, but something had turned his eyes a dark green.

“Sorry,” she muttered. “And thanks.” She lowered the hand she couldn’t recall pressing to his chest and tentatively straightened. “I think it’s safe to let me go.”

He hesitated before releasing her. “Dusty, you mind moving Erin’s car?”

“Sure thing. Are the keys in the ignition?”

Neither of them looked at Dusty. They were still gazing at each other. But it took her a few seconds to realize it.

She cleared her throat and watched the ground as she moved away from Spencer and turned to smile at the young man. “I’m already muddy. I might as well do it.”

“It’s no trouble. Anyway, you don’t want to get your seats mucked up.”

Spencer picked up a piece of paper that had fallen from her folder. When he straightened and handed it to her, she saw what she’d done to his flannel shirt. The dark blue-and-gray plaid couldn’t hide the streaks of mud her fingers had left behind.

Erin cringed. “Sorry,” she said, waving at his chest. “Of course I’ll pay to have it cleaned.”

His mouth twitched at the corner. It wasn’t a smile exactly, but the closest thing to one that she’d seen on his face yet. “I have a washing machine and dryer if you want to use them before your next appointment.”

“What?” She glanced down at herself and then over her shoulder to check the back. Of course she didn’t have an appointment. She’d just said that as an excuse. “Dammit, this is a new skirt.” And it belonged to Lila.

“It’s only mud,” Spencer said, eyeing the front of her legs. “It’ll wash out.”

“I hope so.”

His gaze shifted briefly to Dusty, then back to Erin. “Are you coming?” Impatience flared in his face and extended to his voice. “I haven’t got all day.”

“Yes, thanks.”

Dusty hadn’t moved. He was staring at his boss with a puzzled frown. But one warning look from Spencer and Dusty opened the car door and hopped in.

Spencer didn’t even wait for her or offer his arm. Though the ground wasn’t muddy where they walked around to the back of the two-story brick house. Erin was five-five and he had to be over six feet, so it was hard keeping up with his much longer strides.

It felt good to get her circulation going, though. The autumn day had started off mildly enough, but the puddle had been cold, and the brisk wind sweeping off the foothills made her teeth chatter.

He held the door open and gestured her inside. She stopped on the thick woven floor mat and tried to scrape off her muddy right shoe, wishing she’d worn her usual Nikes. The heel caught in the roping. A discreet jerk didn’t help. Stooping or bending over wasn’t going to be fun. Or easy.

“Hold on a minute.” Spencer crouched behind her and lifted her foot out of the shoe, then freed the heel. “You want to leave these off for now?”

“Yes,” she said, feeling like a five-year-old, bracing her hands against the door frame and still clutching the folder. It not only held the contract but Lila’s list. “Thank you.”

Unexpectedly, he wrapped his fingers around her other ankle, and a jolt of heat shot up her leg. For a big guy with big hands, he had a gentle touch. She almost didn’t notice when his palm slid partway up her calf as he removed her other shoe.

“Don’t worry about the floor,” he said, and she realized he was waiting for her to move forward. “It’s just the mudroom.”

“Oh.” She glanced at the parkas and jackets hanging on hooks, at the cubbyholes filled with heavy gloves. “I’ve never seen a mudroom before.”

“On second thought, you’d better use this.” Rising, he grabbed a towel hanging on the side of a deep utility sink. “I don’t care about the floor, but you could slip.”

He threw the towel on the tiles in front of her, his hand poised near her elbow, ready to catch her if she stumbled. His brown hair was a bit longer than last time but still pretty short. It was an expensive cut, not something a regular barber would do.

“Don’t you have a rag? I don’t want to stain your towel.”

“That is a rag. Go ahead.”

Probably a good thing he never smiled. Who knew what that would do to her? Normally, she wasn’t a clumsy person. “I’m sure some of the homes in California have mudrooms, but not in the area where I grew up,” she said, wiping the bottom of her feet on the rag. “Most people think of LA or Hollywood, but there are lots of ranches in the southern part of the state.”

He looked as though he couldn’t be less interested in her rambling. “Right through that door is the laundry room.”

The nervous chatter wasn’t like her. Not even around good-looking guys. And then it hit her. “I can’t wash my clothes.” She turned to look at him. “I have nothing to wear in the meantime.”

Spencer ran his gaze down her body. “I’ll find something for you.”

“Oh, no, that’s—” Erin stopped herself from rejecting his offer. Why give up the extra time to convince him to sign the contract? She let out a breath. “That would be great.”

He placed her heels in the sink, managing to look amused without even a hint of a smile, and gestured for her to keep moving.

Sunlight flooded in through a window in the laundry room. The washer and dryer both looked new and high-end. Above them was a row of dark wood custom cabinets. The room was narrow but well organized, with lots of shelves and hooks and hangers on the opposite wall.

“Come with me,” he said, walking past her. “You can change in the bathroom while I get something for you to wear.”

They walked into a large airy kitchen with gleaming wood floors and stainless steel appliances. The butcher-block island in the middle was the only thing that looked old.

“Is the house new?” she asked, skimming a hand over the smooth countertop. It wasn’t granite but something similar.

“No, but I had some work done. There’s the bathroom.” He nodded at a door to their left and then headed for the staircase.

She hoped he’d give her a tour later. The place looked so much more interesting than it had from the outside. The open floor plan couldn’t be part of the original layout, nor the oversize windows across the back that allowed a stunning view of the Rockies. Tastefully decorated in earth tones, it was nothing like the man cave she might’ve envisioned had she stopped to think about it.

There was some Western artwork on one wall and three framed pictures sitting on the mantel that she was dying to get a look at. But that could wait. She didn’t want him to catch her snooping.

Just after she’d stripped off the skirt and was deciding on her top, which had only a few smudges, she heard the knock at the door. She opened it a little and peeked out. He held up a robe. Not one that belonged to him. It was light pink and on the small side.

“Your wife’s?’ she asked, startled at the thought.

“It’s my mom’s. She forgot it when she visited. She won’t mind.”

Well, hell... That didn’t tell her anything. “Are you married?”

“No.”

“Good.” Erin almost choked on the word. She stared at Spencer, praying there was a chance she hadn’t actually said it out loud.

His brows had risen slightly. “You want the robe or not?”

She grabbed it and shut the door.

Well, at least he wasn’t laughing. Anyway, good could mean lots of things.

She finished undressing while keeping her eyes on the folder. All she needed to worry about was getting him to give his permission to film on his land. It was easy money, for heaven’s sake. The crew would leave his property just as they found it, if not in even better condition.

By the time she’d slipped into the robe and made necessary adjustments so her bra wouldn’t show, she could smell coffee. Spencer clearly liked his brew strong.

He was standing at the kitchen sink with his back to her, and she took advantage of the moment to study his long denim-clad legs and narrow hips. Great butt, good enough to be a body double...although she’d have to see him naked to know for sure.

He turned suddenly, as if he’d sensed her watching him. His gaze took in the robe, the exposed lower half of her calves and bare feet, before motioning with his chin. “You know where the laundry room is.”

“Yep. Thanks.”

Erin had been to so many Laundromats in her twenty-eight years that she thought she’d used every model and brand of washing machine on the market.

She was so wrong.

Studying the list of different cycles was getting her more excited than was probably healthy. But she didn’t care, because this baby could do everything but make a bed. And she hadn’t even looked at the dryer yet.

“Is there a problem?”

At the sound of Spencer’s voice, she glanced at him standing in the doorway, but only briefly before she turned back to the washer. “Check this out...it has seven wash cycles and—”

“I’m aware.”

“Oh, right.” She’d already put in detergent and her clothes, set it for an extra-small load and cold water, then chose a cycle before moving over to the dryer. “As soon as I start making some real money, I’m getting a pair of these. You remember how much they cost?”

“Around thirty-five hundred, I think.”

“Dollars?” She realized what she’d said the same second he tightened his mouth. Wow, he’d almost smiled again. “Go ahead and laugh.” She turned to stroke the dryer. “I’d never have to iron again.” Erin hadn’t touched an iron in years. “Or wear wrinkled clothes.”

“If you want, there’s fabric softener and dryer sheets in the cabinet in front of you.”

She’d seen them on the shelf above the laundry detergent. Everything was so clean and orderly, it kind of made her nervous. It wasn’t that she was a slob or anything, but as soon as she’d started living out of a suitcase most of the time, her main priority was remembering to pack everything.

She opened the cabinet and knew reaching the second shelf was iffy. Even with raising herself on tiptoes, her fingertips only grazed the box of dryer sheets.

Spencer came up behind her and brought down the box. “How about the fabric softener?”

“No, thanks,” she murmured, feeling his heat against her back. He wasn’t actually touching her, but he wasn’t giving her any space, either. Experimentally, she inched back, and it was like she’d hit a brick wall. Despite his lean build, he was solid muscle.

“Anything else?”

“Yeah,” she said, turning around to face him. Her right breast grazed his arm, and a shiver raced down her spine. Spencer backed up a step. It didn’t help. Hell, he’d have to leave the state before the flutters in her chest would stop. “How about we talk a little business while I’m waiting for my clothes?”

She’d always had a husky voice, even as a kid. But it sounded different, lower than usual, as though she might be coming down with a cold. Ignoring it, she waited for him to say something, not sure how long she’d be able to hold his piercing gaze.

The silence between them seemed to suspend time, which Erin didn’t foolishly mistake for the possibility he’d changed his mind. A sudden chill coming from him took care of the fluttering problem.

“Okay, wait,” she said, catching his arm when he turned to leave. “How about a tour of the house? Not the bedrooms or anything. Just, you know, common areas.”

He stopped to stare pointedly at her hand. “Why? So you can see if all the cameras would fit?”

Erin sighed, hating the shift in his demeanor. “Come on, you can’t blame me for trying...” she said, lowering her hand. “I know we got off to a rocky start. Completely my fault. I rushed in without explaining how it works. We’re only asking for a two-week window to access your property. None of the crew would come anywhere near you or the house—”

“I don’t blame you at all,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “In fact, if you have some other trick up your sleeve, go for it. Let’s see what you got.”

“Trick?” None of this made sense. He’d known all along why she was here. “You think I fell in the mud on purpose?”

“I don’t know. Did you?”

“Of course not.” She couldn’t read him. Was he teasing, or trying to distract her? “I swear to you, the land would be left in perfect condition. And the money is more than generous.” Pausing for a breath, she moistened her dry lips. “Better than the boilerplate.” She wasn’t lying. She’d nearly gotten her head chewed off for the offer she’d extended him.

His brows rose expectantly. “That’s it?”

She stared at him, thoroughly confused.

“I have to admit, I’m disappointed,” he said. “I expected something interesting. Not that it would’ve mattered. I’m not going to change my mind.”

“Wait. Don’t you have any questions for me? Whatever is holding you back might not be an issue at all. At least let me try to put your concerns to rest.” She grabbed the folder off the dryer and followed him into the kitchen. “Can we do that?”

“Do what?”

“Start a discussion.”

He poured coffee into a black mug and ignored the blue one that she presumed he’d set out for her. Leaning against the counter, he took a sip while staring at her over the rim. It wasn’t so much his silence as the sudden narrowing of his eyes that unnerved her.

“What?”

“I do have a question.”

“Great,” she said, relaxing and pouring some coffee. Maybe they could come to terms after all. “Ask me anything.”

“What exactly are you prepared to do to get me to agree?”

The sugar she was lightly sprinkling into her mug slipped for a moment. It wasn’t so much his words but his tone that set off alarm bells. “I don’t think I understand the question.”

He gave her a slow smile. “I think you do.”

She really hoped he wasn’t implying what she thought... She looked up and followed his gaze to where the robe had slipped off her shoulder. The thick chenille fabric had taken her bra strap with it. Easy to assume she was naked underneath. So what? It didn’t make his remark any less insulting.

Yanking the robe back in place, she returned his smile with a much sweeter one. “I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt and not assume you’re being a complete prick.”

* * *

SPENCER COULD SEE she was pissed. Maybe he’d gone too far. But after finding her checklist, he really hadn’t known what to think at first. She was from Hollywood. The whole thing this afternoon could’ve been staged. Despite her claim she had no interest in acting, she’d transformed herself since they last met in July. The short skirt, the hair, the makeup...all of it meant to persuade him to give in. Yet the more they’d interacted, the less inclined he was to think she was playing him.

Either way, Erin was an interesting woman. Maybe he was fooling himself, but he didn’t think he’d let on that he was attracted to her. Although he had a feeling celibacy had made him a poor judge. Even Dusty had given him a few strange looks.

“You’re right. I was being a prick,” he said, sorry she’d pulled the robe up. “That was an offensive insinuation, and I apologize.”

“Oh.” She studied him for several seconds, a slight frown tugging at her brows. “Apology accepted. So—”

“My land is still off-limits.”

She let out a breath of pure frustration. “Will you at least tell me why?”

“Why do you want it so badly? There are thousands of acres of open land around here to choose from.”

“It’s about Moonlight Mountain. Jason, the director, wants to use the west side of the mountain in the last scene.” Erin sighed. “I tried talking him out of it, but I admit I probably wasn’t very convincing. If I were directing, I’d want to shoot the final showdown there myself. The setting is perfect.”

“In your world I’m thinking the director is god.”

“Pretty much.” She shrugged. “This project is different, though. It’s an indie film. No big money backers. Just a bunch of us who met in film school. We pooled our resources and connections to make this happen, so we’re all invested in the film’s success. We’re hoping for a sequel. Without having to beg for backers. And best of all, at least for me,” she said, grinning, “I get to be assistant god.”

Spencer sipped his coffee to distract himself from the sparkle that turned her eyes a soft warm brown. He and Dusty had a lot of work to do before winter. So much that Spencer had actually considered hiring a couple men to help with fencing. He only had a small herd, but he didn’t want to still be out repairing fences when the snow and frigid temperatures hit, let alone have to search for any wayward cattle that might escape in the meantime.

In the end he’d decided his privacy was more important. So he’d put off expanding operations; it wasn’t easy, but he and Dusty had been tackling what needed doing from a prioritized list.

“Sorry to tell you,” he said. “You played the sympathy card for nothing.”

The warmth instantly disappeared, and she gave him a cool look. “I don’t need your sympathy. You asked and I answered. Which is more courtesy than you extended me.”

Hell, he didn’t owe her a damn thing.

“Anyway, with or without your mountain, we will succeed. This is going to be the best damn film on a shoestring budget that was ever made. One way or another, Hollywood is going to stand up and take notice. Failure isn’t an option. Not for me.”

Not much he could say to that. He’d been that young and naive once. Erin hadn’t learned enough about life yet. It had a way of sneaking up and knocking you down. He rubbed the scar on his wrist. It was a year old and already barely noticeable. He couldn’t have found a better surgeon.

If only she could have mended his career, as well. His whole future had gone straight to hell that day. No more hopes and dreams for him.

“Good luck with that,” he said, trying not to sound as cynical as he felt. “And by the way—” he dug into his jeans pocket and held out the piece of smudged paper with her list “—you dropped this.”


3 (#u720f8570-df21-5231-bf43-1b2ea22a5bad)

ERIN STEPPED OUT of the Food Mart into the brisk morning air and shivered from head to toe. Her medium-weight black hoodie just wasn’t cutting it anymore. It was perfect for fall, even winter, in Southern California. But not here in Blackfoot Falls.

But damned if she’d spend money on a coat. And damn Spencer Hunt’s stubborn hide. She wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for him.

Hugging a bag of groceries to her chest, she picked up the pace across the parking lot, nodding at an older man getting out of his truck, and wishing she’d driven from the inn. Fat lot of good the exercise would do her if she ended up a Popsicle.

Just before she reached the sidewalk, the sign for the new bakery caught her eye. If she was still here tomorrow, she’d check it out. Hell, she’d probably be stuck here for another week after screwing up so badly yesterday. For now, she stayed on the right side of the street with the sun shining directly on her.

Her cell rang, and hoping it was Lila, Erin pulled her hand out from the warmth of her jeans pocket. They’d been playing phone tag since yesterday’s fiasco with Spencer.

“Finally,” Erin said. “Where the hell have you been?”

“Don’t you dare give me attitude.” Lila was normally laid-back, but she sounded grumpy. “I’m so sick of your friend Jason and the damn princess...one minute she wants hair extensions, the next she’s in my face over— Hey, did you know he’s banging her?”

“Penelope? You sure?”

“Well, they were buttoning up when they left his trailer last night. So, you tell me.”

Erin groaned. He wouldn’t be the first director to sleep with his leading lady, but dammit... “Jason is too smart for that bullshit.”

“I thought so, too, but I guess he just couldn’t resist Ms. Lane’s many charms. That woman is so impressed with herself it makes me gag.”

“I hope you’re not worried about your role in the sequel.”

Lila hesitated. “A little bit,” she admitted. “Penelope doesn’t like me.”

“Well, that’s because you’re so much prettier than she is.” Erin ignored her friend’s familiar sigh. Bias aside, it was the absolute truth. She also knew for a fact that Jason had been hot for Lila since college. “And even if they are screwing, it won’t last,” Erin said and then lowered her voice when a woman emerging from Abe’s Variety store frowned at her. “They’ll have moved on by the end of shooting. Anyway, Penelope is just a hired hand. We have equity in this project.”

“Not much.”

True. But Erin wasn’t worried. “By the way, your list and accompanying tools of the trade sucked.”

“My instructions were very detailed. What happened?”

“I hope I can get the mud out of your heels and denim skirt.”

“Mud? Ah, jeez, Erin. What did you do?”

“I fell on my ass, that’s what. And that wasn’t even the worst part. He found the list you gave me.”

After a startled squeak, Lila asked, “Why on earth did you have it with you?”

“Why do you think? To remind myself to smile and be charming.”

Lila burst out laughing. “You’re lying.”

“Like hell. He asked if I’d be willing to sleep with him to get the contract signed.”

“Well, you did say he was pretty hot.”

Erin stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. “I can’t believe you just said that.”

“Because I know he didn’t come out and ask any such thing. You wouldn’t be so calm about it.”

“Ah.” Erin shivered and started moving again. “Okay, so I paraphrased, but the implication was there.”

“And you said?”

“I might’ve implied he was a prick.”

Lila sighed. “Do me a favor? Don’t tell Jason yet.”

“Tell him what? I’m not giving up. Hunt left the house before I could take another run at him. I’m going back out there later.”

“Wait. You were in his house?”

“Yep, waiting while your clothes were in the wash.” Hearing her friend’s soft whimper, Erin winced. God, they both knew better. Erin in heels? That was just begging for an accident. “Anyway, he didn’t give me time to explain about the list before he took off on horseback.” Although she doubted an explanation existed that wouldn’t end up making her sound hopeless. “I couldn’t even snoop around. Dusty, the kid who works for him, was there. He told me Spencer rarely leaves the ranch.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when a late-model silver truck passed her. For a second she thought she saw Spencer at the wheel.

“Ooh,” Lila said. “That’s why he’s so mysterious. People around town don’t know anything about him. I can’t wait to see for myself—”

A block down, the truck pulled to the curb. A man climbed out and set a tan cowboy hat on his head.

“Hey,” Erin said, cutting Lila short. “I gotta go. I think his royal hotness just made an appearance.”

She disconnected, not trusting herself to walk and talk at the same time. She couldn’t see his face, but the tall, lean body was right. So was the short dark hair. And she vaguely recalled seeing a silver truck parked near the barn yesterday.

He glanced around before closing the car door. That is, he looked just about everywhere except in her direction. So, yep, that was Spencer, and she’d bet Lila’s designer stilettos that he’d spotted her, too. He could’ve kept going, but he hadn’t, so that was promising.

Glad for her old comfy Nikes, she sped up as she watched him round the hood and then drop an envelope in the mailbox near the diner. She half expected him to go inside, but he was already retracing his steps back to the driver’s side.

“Spencer, wait,” she yelled, switching to a jog.

He paused briefly, at least long enough for her to know he’d heard, and then he opened the door.

The hell with that.

She stuck two fingers in her mouth and whistled loud enough to wake the dead. And because he’d ignored her to begin with, she added, “Yo, Spencer.”

Everyone who was out and about on Main Street turned to look.

First, they glanced at her.

And then people stared at him.

Apparently he was more interesting. Probably due to his reputation for being a hermit. She’d bet half the town knew who she was from her last visit.

A small, wiry woman wearing an oversize World’s Best Grandma sweatshirt stopped pushing a stroller to give him a once-over. Two old-timers leaving the diner eyeballed him as they dug out their chewing tobacco.

Unsmiling, Spencer nodded at the men.

Erin couldn’t see what he’d done to get the World’s Best Grandma moving. But she seemed anxious to be on her way. So did a young blonde walking her little white poodle.

“I’m surprised to see you in town,” Erin said and leaned against his ridiculously clean truck. “Did you miss me?”

Spencer bit off a startled laugh and shook his head. “Haven’t you left yet?”

“Um...” She glanced down at her beat-up Nikes and well-worn jeans. “Nope. Still here,” she said and straightened when he pulled his door open wider. “Come into the diner with me. I’ll buy you coffee. Or breakfast. Have you eaten yet? Marge makes great cinnamon rolls. And chocolate chip pancakes.”

“No, thanks.” He took off his hat and slid in behind the wheel.

“Wait.” She shot forward, laying a hand on his arm, stopping him from pulling the handle. “Spencer, please,” she said, finding herself sandwiched between him and the door. Not one of her better ideas. He smelled too damn good. His slightly parted lips were too tempting. The awareness darkening his eyes made it difficult for her to breathe. She was standing too close, but she couldn’t make herself move away.

“Please what?” he asked softly, then waited for an answer she couldn’t seem to articulate. “I can’t give you what you want, Erin.”

She wanted him to touch her.

The thought came from nowhere and wrenched her out of fantasyland.

“Look,” she said, inching back, “I’m sorry I whistled and called attention to you. That wasn’t cool. But I’d really like to explain about the list you found yesterday.”

An air horn honked ungodly loud and close.

Grimacing, she covered her ear.

Spencer pulled her against him just as a truck sped by. The door closed behind her, biting into her back while her breasts pressed against his arm. It was unnecessary. The truck hadn’t passed close enough to hit her, but she wasn’t complaining.

When the teenage boys riding in the truck’s bed laughed and jeered, she realized then the driver had purposely swerved just to scare them. If Erin had been anywhere else, she would’ve flipped them off. Or maybe not, since her heart was pounding so hard the roar had reached her ears. Even her legs were shaky. Damn kids.

“Are you all right?” Spencer’s arm had tightened around her, and he was trying to look at her face.

“I don’t think they got your door.” She would’ve heard the metals scraping together. “Did they?” She turned to see for herself, but Spencer caught her chin and forced her to meet his eyes.

“Forget about the truck. I yanked the door pretty hard trying to get you out of the way.”

“I’m fine.” She lowered her gaze and focused on the muscle working in his jaw. “Stupid kids.” Her heart was still racing, and her knees had lost their starch, but that had more to do with the feel of his warm breath on her cheek.

“You’ll bruise.”

“Maybe it’ll match yesterday’s...” She shrugged, noticed her palm pressed to his chest and blinked. When had that happened?

Resisting the urge to snatch her hand back, she casually reached up and brushed a loose strand of hair away from her face.

Spencer glanced down Main Street and lowered his arm. “It’s clear. Come on, hop in. I’ll give you a ride.”

She didn’t give him a chance to change his mind. After a quick peek for herself, she hurried around and jumped into the passenger seat.

“Where are you headed?” he asked as he pulled out.

“I don’t know. Where are you going?”

His mouth lifted in a slight smile. “I can drop you off on the next block if you want.”

A sudden flash of memory had her peering into her bag. “Damn.” Both Twinkies were flat. No problem, she’d eat them, anyway. Of course the carton of dip had survived, because the bag of corn chips was now crumbs.

“Groceries?”

“Yep. Oh, well.” She offered him a candy bar. “It’s only smashed on the end.”

“No, thanks.”

She rooted around and found another. “How about this one? It doesn’t look too bad.”

He took his eyes off the road to frown at her just as they passed the inn where she was staying. Next was a gas station, and after that, nothing but open highway and a scattering of large ranches.

Spencer lowered his gaze to the bag. “Is there anything healthy in there?”

Fishing out the dip, she pretended to study the ingredient list. “It’s green, so probably,” she said and hid a smile at his look of revulsion. “The chips got smashed, though. But I bet we can make it work.”

“Are you serious?”

“I’m starving. This is breakfast. Oh, I should’ve asked...do you care if I eat in your truck?”

He shook his head, his expression puzzled. “It’s all junk food.”

“Look, I’d love to be dining on delicious organic salads and fruit every day. But even if the Food Mart did carry organic produce, it’s not in my budget.”

“You must have an expense account and per diem.”

“Sort of.” She unwrapped a Twinkie and broke it in half. “Motel rooms are covered, within reason, of course, and I’m reimbursed for gas. I’m using my own car, and I pay for my food.” She bit into her half and offered him the other.

It came as no surprise when he turned down the Twinkie with a single lifted brow.

“I have a bag of organic apples that I brought with me. It’s in my room.” Feeling a bit defensive, she stuffed the rest of the cake into her mouth. She hated that she hadn’t completely kicked her college junk food habit. But what she’d told him was true. She had to watch her pennies.

“And that room would be where?”

Shit.

She looked at him, pointed to her mouth and kept chewing, wondering how long she could stall. God, she’d kill for some coffee.

The scenery was beautiful. Her gaze skipped the scrubby brush closer to the road and took in the mix of pines, cottonwoods and quaking aspen covering the foothills of the Rockies. Fall had come late to this corner of the country. Some of the lower altitude trees still had orange-and-gold leaves clinging to the branches.

Not that she held any hope the landscape would distract Spencer. She fully expected him to make a U-turn at any second.

Deciding not to push his patience, she swallowed the last of the Twinkie and said, “I’m staying at The Boarding House Inn.”

“The same Boarding House Inn we passed five minutes ago?”

“Yep. The place is pretty cool. It really was a boardinghouse at one time.” Waiting for him to lay into her, she studied his hand resting on the steering wheel. His long, lean fingers looked elegant and graceful, with trimmed fingernails that seemed too neat and clean to belong to a cowboy. “Do you play the piano?”

The truck veered to the shoulder. He’d put both hands on the wheel as he prepared to make a turn. They hit a rock, and the sudden jerk had her reaching for the dashboard.

“Wait. Please, don’t,” she said just as a second bump jarred her poor bruised butt and made her wince. “Can I come with you?”

Spencer stopped the truck and sent her a curious look. “You don’t even know where I’m going.”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s warm in here, and I don’t have anything better to do.”

“So, why are you hanging around town, wasting money on lodging?”

“Well, if you’re going to resort to logic, forget it. I have nothing to say.”

He sighed and shifted to Neutral. “I’m not changing my mind.”

“I know.” And she wasn’t giving up the fight. “Actually, I do have a few things to take care of, like getting some pictures of the new storefronts in town. It’s crazy how much has changed in three months.”

“That shouldn’t take long.”

She stared at him. “You really do want to get rid of me. Okay.” She didn’t know what else to say. She’d always been outgoing and people generally liked her. “I’d offer to walk back if it weren’t so freezing, so if you wouldn’t mind...”

Shaking his head and looking resigned, he shifted to Drive. “I’m going to the Lone Wolf, a ranch about twelve miles from here.” He glanced at her. “If you want to come along.”

She nodded enthusiastically.

Spencer kept his foot on the brake and his attention on her. “On one condition.”

Erin stopped herself from rolling her eyes. “I don’t nag you about using your land.”

“Good girl.” He almost smiled. “You’re catching on.”

Good girl.

Gritting her teeth, she tore off a piece of Twinkie from the remaining half and stuffed it in her mouth before she ended up saying something snarky. God, did she hate not having the upper hand. She had to be nice no matter what, and Spencer knew it. He also knew she hadn’t folded. But she’d stick to the deal and not pester him for the rest of the day.

“Now, you want to tell me about that list of yours?”


4 (#ulink_843b1328-de4e-5598-a5a3-9202b9135714)

SHE WAS TROUBLE. That was undeniable. And Spencer had gone out of his way looking for it. Something about the damn woman stirred a primal craving in him that he’d thought had died along with his career.

Part of the attraction was her husky voice. The low sexy timbre rasped against his skin and hijacked his brain. It made him wonder what her fingernails would feel like raking his back. Made it too easy for a man to get lost. Maybe even agree to something he’d later regret.

Carefully keeping his eyes on the road, he listened to her explanation about her friend’s involvement with the crazy list. But he hadn’t caught much of it. Only that it made sense someone else had put her up to changing her appearance. Three months ago, when she’d first turned up at Shadow Creek, she’d worn jeans and a T-shirt, her long hair clipped up and kind of messy.

Yesterday she’d looked ready for a date.

He sensed movement and glanced over at her. She’d loosened the neck of the black sweatshirt and let the hood fall to her back. Sunlight picked up caramel-colored strands of the brown hair he’d formerly considered unremarkable. Her eyes were nearly the same golden caramel shade. She had a small pert nose and a wide mouth. Her habit of pursing those full lips while she was thinking would definitely torment him if he let it.

“...Lila can pull off that sort of stuff. I’m hopeless. Oh, and thanks again for letting me use the washer and dryer. It was Lila’s skirt. And heels.” She paused to pull a can of Red Bull out of her bag and offered it to him. He shook his head. “Not my favorite, but I’ve had only two cups of coffee today.”

He shot her a questioning look.

“I’m a total caffeine junkie,” she explained. “It started in college.”

“Too many all-night parties?”

“I wish. More like late-night studying. And working part-time.”

“Where did you go?”

“UCLA. They have a great film school.” She popped the can. “Did you go to college?”

“Yep. No place you’d recognize.”

“Ah.”

Hell, he had to be more careful. Not ask questions that could be turned back on him. He’d kept to himself for so long he was out of practice. And with someone like Erin...the woman was an open book, frank and matter-of-fact. Maybe that was how she got people to feel comfortable. Convince them to open their homes and lives to her. Something he’d better keep in mind. And not recklessly invite her on ride-alongs.

“So, why are we going to the Lone Wolf?” she asked.

“I have some business with the owner, Matt Gunderson. I can’t speak for why you’re tagging along.”

Erin grinned. “It’s pretty out here. So different from when I was here in July.”

After putting the bag on the floorboard, she tucked her free hand under her thigh. Hunching her shoulders, she looked cold. He was still wearing the fleece-lined jacket he’d put on to feed the horses before he left, so he hadn’t bothered with the heater.

He turned it on. “Feel free to adjust the temperature.”

She was right on it. “Tell me if it gets too warm for you.”

“I have a question.”

“Okay.” She wedged the can between her legs and rubbed her palms together in front of the vent as she looked at him.

A slew of lusty thoughts raced through Spencer’s mind. All because of where she’d innocently stuck the damn can, he thought with disgust. Although, in his defense, it didn’t help that he’d seen her bare thighs. Nice and toned, they’d feel real good gripping his waist.

Images of her in that short denim skirt had haunted him late into the night. No surprise he’d woken up harder than a rock.

It wasn’t her. It was him. He hadn’t gone without sex this long since the summer between sophomore and junior years of high school. Hell, he was probably going through withdrawal.

“So, let me get this straight—your friend Lila gave you the makeover advice. Obviously to get my attention...” He saw Erin fidget, and he purposely drew out the suspense as he navigated a curve in the road. “And then what? You were willing to sleep with me to get—”

“No.” She barked the word, then folded her arms across her chest. “I mean, I would—but not to get you to—” She huffed with aggravation. “The short answer is no.”

“We have another five minutes to the Lone Wolf. Plenty of time for the long answer.”

He’d meant to tease her, but it backfired. The pink in her cheeks and the fire in her eyes were making him hot and prickly. Maybe he was reading into it, but it was possible they shared the same itch. He had to really think about how he wanted this to play out.

“To soften you up, I guess,” she said, though he hadn’t expected an answer. “It’s kind of funny. There’s no way in hell I’d have sex with you in exchange for Moonlight Mountain—”

Spencer snorted a laugh. “You’d have to be damn good to expect me to give you the whole mountain.”

“You know what I mean,” she said, leveling a cool gaze his way. “And had you let me finish, I was about to say that under any other circumstance, yeah, damn right I would’ve slept with you.”

He almost missed the turn. Spotting the road marker at the last second, he wrenched the steering wheel. Erin threw out both arms and flattened her palms against the dashboard. His Stetson tumbled off the console onto the floor.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“I guess that was partly my fault.”

Deep ruts in the gravel road worked against him as he righted the truck. The ground was still muddy, some patches slick from the wet fall leaves. All he needed was to get stuck out here; with Erin, no less.

Erin and the self-satisfied smirk she was trying to hide.

Spencer knew some bold women back in Boise, and Erin, being strong and plainspoken, shouldn’t have surprised him. But he had to admit, he hadn’t seen that coming.

The moment they were back on track, all tires accounted for, he said, “So you’re saying if we’d met at the bar in town and had no business connection, you would’ve gone home with me.”

“I don’t know.” She narrowed her eyes at him. “Maybe. But I wouldn’t have gone to your place.”

“The inn?”

“You know what? It’s a moot point.” She shifted in her seat, adjusted the air vents again. “Let’s drop it.”

“You opened the door.”

“Yeah, well, now I’m closing it.”

Spencer smiled to himself. He’d finally figured out her strategy. She thought dangling sex and knocking him off balance would give her the upper hand. And damn, she wasn’t completely wrong. “Humor me. I’m curious.”

She huffed out a disgruntled sigh. “Look, I don’t pick up guys in bars, okay? And if I did, I sure as hell wouldn’t let them know where I live. Or go to some strange man’s place. That would be pretty stupid.”

“So, what? You’d prefer to have sex in a car? A hotel?”

“What part of moot point don’t you understand?” Staring at him, she shook her head. “Like I said, circumstances being what they are, it doesn’t matter.”

“Well, I’m never going to let you and your people set foot on the mountain.”

“And I’ll never quit trying to wear you down. Today you get a pass. I intend to honor the condition of my ride-along. But after that...” She shrugged, her lips curving in a cocky smile.

Spencer couldn’t believe he was having this conversation. Or worse, that he wouldn’t let it go. “I’m flat out telling you Moonlight Mountain is off-limits,” he said and caught her smile slip a bit. “So there’s no reason for sex to be off the table.”

“Since I’m confident I can change your mind, sex definitely can’t be part of the equation. It would feel too creepy.” She straightened in her seat and peered up ahead at the buildings starting to become visible. “Is that the Lone Wolf?”

“I think so. I’ve only been out here once before.”

“Looks big.”

“Yep.” He tried not to sound like a sulky ten-year-old. Especially since Erin didn’t seem to give a shit one way or the other about having sex. But in truth, he was used to getting his way. Up until the accident that had changed everything, his life had been golden.

* * *

HE PARKED THE TRUCK close to a structure that Erin guessed was the barn. The ranch in general was a sizable spread with a large stable, what looked to be a second barn, a dozen or more corrals and a building large enough to be a warehouse.

She opened the door and frowned at the soft ground around them. It was a big truck, and she was too high up to just hop out. Climbing in had been easy because she’d had a boost from the curb.

“Here.” Spencer was suddenly standing there offering his hand. When she hesitated, he added, “I won’t bite.”

“No, but will you let me fall on my ass?”

“You don’t need my help for that.”

“Ha. Funny.” Eyeing his boots, she saw they were making a slight depression in the dirt. She took his hand and not for the first time wondered why he didn’t have more calluses.

She stepped down and was instantly glad for his assistance. He didn’t let go until they reached a patch of gravel, and she was sure of her footing.

“I know her,” Erin murmured when she finally looked up and caught sight of a woman standing on the porch of an attractive two-story house set back from everything. “I think that’s Rachel.” Her long, beautiful auburn hair wasn’t easily forgotten. Still, Erin glanced at Spencer for confirmation.

He shrugged. “Could be Matt’s wife. I’ve never met her.” His attention shifted to the second barn. “Here’s Gunderson now.”

Spencer walked toward the man, until they met up and shook hands. They were around the same height, somewhere just over the six-foot mark, though Matt had a huskier build and lighter hair.

Erin trailed behind until Spencer introduced her. Matt’s rough palm felt more like what she expected of a cowboy. She knew from the townspeople that Spencer was new to the area. And damn, she was curious about what he’d been doing before buying Shadow Creek Ranch. If she could get Dusty alone, she bet he would tell her.

“Ah, here comes Rachel,” Matt said, looking toward the house.

“I thought it was her,” Erin said and caught Matt’s confused expression. “We met in town about three months ago. I was here scouting locations for a film.”

“Okay. You must be with that independent film, then,” Matt said, and she nodded. “My buddy Ben Wolf has been providing your production company with some stock.”

“That’s right. I don’t know Ben all that well, but we met when he was still working in Hollywood. He sure has some beautiful horses.”

Matt nodded at Spencer. “How do you figure into all this?”

“I don’t,” he said, putting up both hands. “I just gave the lady a ride.”

Erin grinned. “I’m trying to get him to let us use Moonlight Mountain. The director wants to shoot the last scene of the movie on the west ridge.”

“I can see why. Nice piece of real estate you’ve got there,” Matt said to Spencer. “I’d considered making an offer on it myself, but I think you’d already put down earnest money.”

“Well, damn. I wish you had bought it. Spencer’s playing hard to get.”

“Don’t start,” he warned in a low voice just as Rachel approached.

“Oh, please, I haven’t even begun to get started.” Erin smiled sweetly, heard Matt chuckle, then turned to Rachel.

“Erin, right?”

“Yes, we met at— Oh—” Erin stumbled back a step. Rachel was a hugger. “Okay,” Erin murmured, doing her best to reciprocate but feeling awkward. She kind of patted the other woman’s back and hoped that was enough.

Matt grinned but not without a hint of understanding in his face. “You meet Rachel once, and you’re a friend for life.”

“Not everyone.” Rachel glanced at her husband. “You know who I’m talking about,” she said and turned to Spencer with a smile and her hand out. “Hello. I’m Rachel.”

He shifted the speculative look he was giving Erin, his expression easing as he nodded at Rachel. “Spencer Hunt.” He reached up and yanked off his hat before shaking her hand. “Pleased to meet you, Rachel.”

With raised brows, Rachel looked at her husband.

“Ah, Christ.” Matt rubbed his jaw, the corners of his mouth twitching. “Thanks, Hunt. Yeah, thanks for showing up the rest of us poor slobs with your fancy manners.”

“You can blame my mama for that.” Spencer reset the hat on his head and smiled. A real, honest-to-goodness, genuine smile that seemed to come so naturally.

Wow. Erin hadn’t known he had it in him. “You’ve never removed your hat for me,” she said.

He turned to her with a hint of amusement in his face. “If you were less irritating, maybe I would.”

Matt choked out a laugh. Then something caught his attention, and he excused himself, moving to the side. “Hey, Chuck,” he called to a young man walking toward the corral. “Have you seen Petey?”

“I think he’s in the bunkhouse.”

“Mind getting him for me?”

“No problem, boss.”

Rachel’s lips were pressed together as she studied Spencer and then Erin. “Are you guys headed to the stable?”

Erin shrugged. “I don’t even know why we’re here.”

Matt rejoined them. “Yep, we’ll be in the stable for a while. Maybe take a ride out to the north pasture. We’ll end up at the house eventually. Are you going to be home?”

Rachel nodded. “I put a roast in the slow cooker. It won’t be ready until closer to dinnertime. But I can make some coffee for now, and sandwiches later.”

Coffee? The magic word.

Erin resisted the urge to raise her hand and jump up and down.

“I’m sure there’s coffee brewing in the stable or the barn. I’ll call you in a while.” Matt smiled and kissed Rachel. “Thanks, honey.”

It was just a brief brushing of lips, but it was the tenderness in his eyes that made Erin’s chest ache. No man had ever looked at her like that. And probably never would. In the thirty-three years her parents had been married, she’d never seen them kiss or hug each other even once. But then she hadn’t seen much of them, period. They’d worked a lot, so she’d mostly hung out at Lila’s house after school.

“Erin? You want to come to the house with me?” Rachel asked. “Or would you prefer to go with the guys and learn everything you didn’t want to know about storing and shipping frozen bull semen?”

With a laugh, Erin looked at the men. Seeing their wry smiles, she realized it wasn’t a joke. “Huh.” She turned back to Rachel. “So, you mentioned coffee?”

“I can even make you an espresso if you want.” Rachel checked her watch. “Damn. We have to hurry. The chocolate chip cookies are almost ready to come out of the oven.”

“Seriously? You made cookies?” Erin said, in awe of her new hero.

“They’re actually the slice-and-bake stuff,” Rachel whispered as they started for the house. “But honestly, they taste homemade, so don’t tell anyone.”

Erin slowed and glanced back at Spencer. “Don’t leave without me...”

He’d been watching her. Rather boldly for a reserved man who guarded his privacy. Made her wonder just how well he knew Matt. And what exactly he was trying to do, besides give her a coronary.

“Better save me a bite,” Spencer said with a wink.

“Go worry about your semen.”

She hadn’t noticed the cowboy leaving the barn until he burst out laughing.

Grinning, Rachel was darting glances at Spencer when Erin fell into step beside her.

“Uh-uh.” Erin shook her head. “I know that look. It’s not like that.”

“How do you know what I’m thinking?”

“Because you remind me of my friend Lila, and she would be looking at me just like you are right now.”

Rachel’s smile widened.

“I barely know him. Since the minute we met, he’s been trying to get rid of me.”

“I’ve seen him only once, and it was from a distance,” Rachel said. “He’s very good-looking.”

“Yes, he is. And stubborn. Annoying as hell.” Erin almost sneaked another look but caught herself. “I mean, who wouldn’t jump at the chance to make a small bundle for doing nothing?”

“I take it you want to do some filming on his property?”

Erin nodded. “He owns a lot of land, but his ranch isn’t that big. His herd is small. It’s hard to believe he makes so much money that he could afford to—” Erin frowned. “Is frozen semen big business?”

“It can be,” Rachel said. “If you have the right stock to begin with. Matt raises rodeo stock. So far he’s bred two champion bulls and a winning stallion, and he hasn’t been at it very long. He’s just started to research the feasibility of selling the semen.”

“How does Spencer fit into it?”

“Other than he knows about proper storage and shipping, I’m not really sure.”

Erin didn’t believe that for a second. Not with the way Rachel purposely avoided eye contact. Good to know she was trustworthy or simply not the type to gossip. Either way, she’d earned Erin’s respect.

“Hey, do those chocolate chip cookies have nuts in them?” Erin asked as they reached the porch of the well-kept two-story house with green shutters.

“Of course.” Rachel looked insulted. “If I’m going to cheat and pass them off as my own, why on earth would I skimp?”

Erin grinned. A woman after her own heart.


5 (#ulink_adbb0181-d103-5fd7-a7cc-c8f3dea75914)

AFTER A TWO-HOUR tour of the Lone Wolf, Spencer decided he liked Gunderson. They’d met twice before, once by chance, the second time to size each other up. But today was the day of reckoning. Spencer could tell a lot about a man by the way he treated his animals, his hired men and his wife. Matt Gunderson excelled in all three areas, and if he wanted Spencer’s help, he was inclined to do what he could.

“I wish I could give you more assurance. Frozen semen has an indefinite shelf life as long as it isn’t thawed. On the downside you have to have the facility to properly store it,” Spencer said, his arms propped on the door of King Arthur’s stall. The handsome black stallion looked to be in perfect health. “I hear there’s a big demand in the overseas market. Chilled semen is only fertile for one to three days after it’s collected. Too many variables can eat up the time real quick before it gets to its destination.”

Matt nodded. “On the other side of the coin, the semen doesn’t always survive the freezing process. I read that roughly 25 percent of the stallion population freezes well. Would you agree with that?”

“I’m reading the same research you are,” Spencer said, shrugging.

“Yeah, but I’m guessing you understand most of it better than I do.”

Spencer smiled. Besides Dusty, Gunderson was the only person in Blackfoot Falls who knew anything about Spencer. So maybe Rachel did, as well. His thoughts skipped straight to Erin, who could be grilling Rachel right now, looking for a way to convince him to lease her Moonlight Mountain. Matt knew to be discreet, and Spencer hoped Rachel followed his lead.

And if not, nothing he could do about it at this point. It wasn’t as though he harbored some horrible secret—he just didn’t care to revisit that less than shining moment that cost him everything. And the pitying looks...yeah, he could do without those.

“Look,” Spencer said, “you can probably expect another 50 percent to freeze acceptably. You have prime animals, and if you make sure you’re offering only the highest quality semen, you’ll have more customers than you can handle.”

King Arthur neighed loudly and shook his mane.

Matt grinned. “This guy is something else. It’ll break my heart if I can’t keep some viable semen.”

“He sired any foals yet?”

“Two. I sold one, and my friend Ben has the other. The next one I’m keeping.”

“I wish I could’ve helped you out today.” Spencer glanced at his watch. “I know you’re more interested in bulls, but it’s a different story trying to get them registered.”

“I only want the semen for my own breeding purposes, so that’s not a problem. Basically, I’ve got to figure out if I want to move forward and build a facility and find the right personnel to handle that portion of the business. Hell, I wasn’t even interested in any of this until a few months ago.”

Matt stepped away from the stall and headed for the pot of coffee he’d started. “You want some?” Matt asked.

“Sure.” Spencer’s thoughts wandered back to Erin. Time had flown by. He hadn’t expected to be here this long, and he was a little surprised she hadn’t come looking for him. Unless Rachel had given her a ride to town.

He didn’t like that idea, even though he should. Sometimes she was a bit hard to read. Damn, he wished he knew if she was serious about sex being nonnegotiable. Maybe it was part of her strategy to get him to come around. The plan had merit. Not that he’d admit it.

“There’s another way I’d consider getting into this business.” Matt held out the mug of black coffee. “Go in with a partner—50/50 investment, 50/50 profit.”

Spencer smiled. “I figured this discussion might be headed in that direction.”

“You interested in that route?”

“It’s possible.” Spencer took a sip. “Are you looking to breed strictly rodeo stock?”

“For me, personally? Yeah, mostly.” Matt gestured to King Arthur. “But when a stallion like this comes along, I’d be stupid not to consider other options. A guy I know, lives about twenty miles east of town...he trains racehorses. Trent’s good. He’s got several major wins under his belt. He’s expressed some interest.” Matt sipped from his mug, his expression thoughtful. “So, here’s another question for you.”

“Shoot.”

“What’s your opinion on cloning?”

Spencer almost spit out his coffee. “Are you serious?”

Matt laughed. “I’m just curious. Hell, I’d have to clone myself to take on any more work.”

“You must be following all that Quarter Horse Association business down in Texas. That fight’s been going on for a long time, and I don’t see it ending soon.”

“I agree with you there,” Matt said, then they both turned when someone entered the stable.

It was Erin.

Her hair was mussed and her cheeks flushed. She’d taken off the hoodie and was down to a red T-shirt that fit snugly across her breasts and showed off toned, lightly tanned arms. Whether or not she was wearing a bra wasn’t clear, but Spencer could see her nipples poking at the worn material.

“Speaking of trouble,” he said when she was close enough to hear.

“Ah, you missed me. How sweet.”

Matt chuckled just as his phone buzzed. “Excuse me a minute.”

As they watched him walk away, Spencer noticed some hay in her hair. “Where were you?”

“Horseback riding. It was amazing.”

“With Rachel?”

“No, she had to run over to the Sundance and drop something off, so Bobby took me.” Erin hunched her shoulders and rubbed her arms. “It was warm out in the sun, but now I wish I’d put my hoodie back on.”

Spencer shrugged out of his jacket.

“What are you doing?” She leaned away when he tried to drape it over her shoulders. “You’ll be cold.”

“I’m fine.”

“Bobby said he has an extra jacket if I need it.”

“Look, you’re shivering. Can you just put the damn thing on without arguing?”

She pressed her lips together, her jaw clenched as he settled the heavy suede jacket around her. “Oh.” She relaxed as he overlapped the front. “Wow. This is nice. Fleece-lined and everything. You might not get it back.”

The jacket dwarfed her, hitting just above her knees. She turned her head and buried half her face into the collar, closing her eyes and inhaling deeply. A soft smile lifted her lips. She looked so damned sexy. Did she even realize what she was doing? She could be purposely taunting him, but he didn’t think so.




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