Debbi Rawlins - The Swinging R Ranch

Popular Carol Finch always “presents her fans with rollicking wild adventures…memorable characters and fun from beginning to end,” says Romantic Times Magazine. Joining her this month is mother-and-daughter writing team Jennifer Drew with a delightful spin-off to their first Duets title, Taming Luke.

The West will never be the same after Debbi Rawlins serves up her first dynamite Double Duets. Affaire de Coeur says “Rawlins’s books are jammed packed with witty dialogue, crazy situations, excellent characters and a lot of laughs!” Enjoy!

The Swinging R Ranch

Whose Line is it Anyway?

Debbi Rawlins

www.millsandboon.co.uk

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The Swinging R Ranch The Swinging R Ranch Debbi Rawlins

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

Whose Line is it Anyway?

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

Epilogue

The Swinging R Ranch

Debbi Rawlins

Max blinked and took a good look at Rosie. Her hair wasn’t blond. It was white. Attractive, but white. Looking a little closer, he guessed her to be in her late sixties. Was she the cook?

His gaze strayed over the other woman and he tried not to gape. She’d removed her apron and her black lace top fit her like a second skin.

“Max.” Mona grabbed his hand. “I assume I can call you Max? And of course, you already know I’m Mona. Mona Lisa.” Pointing to the other woman, she added, “And this here is Rosie Peach.”

“Mona Lisa. Rosie Peach,” Max repeated slowly, not quite able to believe what he was seeing.

Mona nodded. “Candy Kane is out shopping, but she should be home soon. There’s only the three of us these days.”

Max swallowed.

Mona and Rosie exchanged knowing looks. Then Rosie smiled. “Don’t worry, Max,” she said, patting his arm. “There may be snow on the chimney, but there’s still fire in the furnace.”

Dear Reader,

The state of Nevada is the last place I thought I’d ever set a story. It’s a desert, for crying out loud! Well, not only did I set my first Double Duets in that wonderful, wacky place, but I actually bought a house there. And guess what? I love it!

Even reading the newspapers in Nevada is entertaining—and inspiring! In fact, I came up with the idea behind The Swinging R Ranch when I read an article about a local brothel. How could I help playing the “what if” game in my head with all the juicy material I was finding? I’m still not sure how I came up with the name of the town—Bingo. I’d never played the game, and thought I wouldn’t like it. Now I’m hopelessly addicted, and on most hot afternoons, you’ll find me feverishly daubing numbers in the Bingo Room of The Reserve Casino. Just don’t tell my editor. She thinks I’m writing.

I hope the people of Bingo brighten up your days the way they’ve brightened mine.

Enjoy,

HARLEQUIN AMERICAN ROMANCE

691—MARRY ME, BABY

730—THE BRIDE TO BE…OR NOT TO BE?

741—IF WISHES WERE…HUSBANDS

780—STUD FOR HIRE?

808—HIS, HERS AND THEIRS

This is for the ladies of The Reserve Bingo Room—the best bingo agents in Nevada!

And a special acknowledgment to Carol, “the pretty one.”

“EVER CONSIDER WORKING for a living?”

The voice seemed to echo down a long tunnel. Max Bennett buried his head deeper under his pillow. It was practically the middle of the night. He was alone. Had to be a dream.

At a slight scraping sound, he peeked through one eye. Light flooded the room. Someone had opened the drapes.

He cursed into the pillow and closed his eye again. He’d thought he was alone. Had what’s-her-name from last night come home with him? You’d think he’d remember that.

“Come on, you bum. Rise and shine.”

Max let out a sigh of relief. It was only Taylor’s voice. Rolling over, he glanced at the clock on the nightstand. His vision blurred and he had to squint. Groaning, he let his head drop back to the pillow. “For God’s sake, it’s only noon.”

“So, you can waste just half the day for a change.” She tugged at the covers he was trying to pull over his head and they landed bunched at his waist. “Did I tell you Hastings submitted his resignation? My firm will need a good contract lawyer.”

All Max had on was a pair of black silk boxers but that wouldn’t faze Taylor so there was no chance of embarrassing her into leaving. She’d been his best friend since their first year in law school. Although they’d dated once, they decided they made better friends. Taylor was ambitious, dedicated, serious. Everything he wasn’t. Of course she didn’t have three generations of blue-blooded Bennetts paying her tab.

“Very funny,” he mumbled and tried to get comfortable again.

“I wasn’t being funny. I’m dead serious.”

Oh, man. Serious was even worse. He hated when she got serious. When any woman did.

“If you came all the way over here to offer me a job, then you just wasted half your day,” he said, and she gave him a disappointed look. “Your time would be better spent finding a way to break into my trust fund.”

He squinted at the top of the nightstand again. His gold watch sat next to an engraved lighter he didn’t recognize. Where the hell was the aspirin?

“If you weren’t so damn lazy you’d have read the will and already figured out that’s impossible. Your grandmother was very specific about your money being dispensed in five-year increments.” Sighing, she reached behind the lamp and produced a small bottle of aspirin. “Why did you bother going to Harvard? You don’t need a law degree to be a vagrant.”

He didn’t even flinch. “Get me some water, huh?”

She stayed put and held up an envelope. “You should have told me about this.”

He stared at the unfamiliar envelope. “I’ve got the Aspen ski trip coming up, then the baccarat tournament in Monte Carlo. I need some serious cash. So unless that pertains to me getting at my trust fund early, I’m not interested.”