Debbi Rawlins - Wild For You

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 Contents Cover Back Cover Text 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. Introduction 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 Title Page Wild for You Debbi Rawlins www.millsandboon.co.uk About the Author 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. 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 Copyright

“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.”