Rancher In Her Bed
“Just because we leave the party… doesn’t mean the night has to end. ” Rancher Xander Currin won’t commit to anyone after tragedy broke his heart. When his feisty ranch hand Frankie Walsh puts herself at risk to secure her future, his protective instincts kick in. But soon combustible desires consume them both…
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“Just because we leave the party doesn’t mean the night has to end.”
Rancher Xander Currin won’t commit to anyone after tragedy broke his heart. But when his feisty ranch hand Frankie Walsh puts herself at risk to secure her future, his protective instincts kick in. He offers her a ticket to the rich and connected at the Texas Cattleman’s Club gala. But soon combustible desires consume them both...and someone’s going to get burned.
JOANNE ROCK credits her decision to write romance after a book she picked up during a flight delay engrossed her so thoroughly that she didn’t mind at all when her flight was delayed two more times. Giving her readers the chance to escape into another world has motivated her to write over eighty books for a variety of Mills & Boon series.
The McNeill Magnates miniseries
The Magnate’s Mail-Order Bride
The Magnate’s Marriage Merger
His Accidental Heir
Little Secrets: His Pregnant Secretary
Claiming His Secret Heir
For the Sake of His Heir
The Forbidden Brother
Wild Wyoming Nights
One Night Scandal
Texas Cattleman’s Club: Houston miniseries
Rancher in Her Bed
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk.
ISBN: 978-1-474-09238-8
RANCHER IN HER BED
© 2019 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Contents
Frankie Walsh understood that her generation had killed romance.
Sure, some people said that dating apps were responsible. And it was true the swipe-left mentality definitely smothered every last hope of spontaneity and excitement. But whether the blame rested with millennials or apps or the parenting that had let a crop of kids grow up thinking they were the center of the universe, Frankie agreed with the consensus among her girlfriends that romance was a thing of the past.
Which begged the question, why was she lingering outside the main house at Currin Ranch, heart fluttering wildly while she hoped for a sighting of her boss, Xander Currin?
Because she was ten kinds of foolish, that’s why. She’d already accomplished her errand here—a two-second task of retrieving the keys to the barn where the haying equipment was stored. Xander had kindly left them outside the back entrance on a huge wooden patio table, right where the maintenance manager had told her they’d be. One of the other hands who’d helped with the haying equipment yesterday was out sick today, and he’d accidentally taken the other set.
Frankie had volunteered for the errand so fast the other ranch hands had all looked at her sideways. If she wasn’t careful, her ill-advised crush on Xander would become a running joke all over Currin Ranch. She valued this job too much to make her workplace uncomfortable that way, and she’d strived for too long to prove she could hold her own with the physical demands of the job.
With the fear of being laughed at spurring her boots, she jammed the keys into the back pocket of her jeans and turned away from the massive log mansion overlooking a creek bed. She kept to the stone path that wound past the pool house and through a low shrubbery hedge, returning to the edge of the lawn where she’d left the energetic young mare, Carmen, she’d ridden over. Her time spent with the animals was the best reward of the job and a necessary part of the requirements for veterinary school. If she could ever make enough money to pay for it.
