Wild for You (Mills & Boon Blaze) (Made in Montana Book 14) Read online

  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,

  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,

  Debbi Rawlins

  Wild for You

  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.

  Books by Debbi Rawlins

  Harlequin Blaze

  Made in Montana

  Barefoot Blue Jean Night

  Own the Night

  On a Snowy Christmas Night

  You’re Still the One

  No One Needs to Know

  From This Moment On

  Alone with You

  Need You Now

  Behind Closed Doors

  Anywhere with You

  Come On Over

  This Kiss

  Come Closer, Cowboy

  To get the inside scoop on Harlequin Blaze and its talented writers, be sure to check out BlazeAuthors.com.

  All backlist available in ebook format.

  Visit the Author Profile page at Harlequin.com for more titles.

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  Contents

  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

  Excerpt from Triple Score by Regina Kyle

  1

  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 w hen 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 typ es, 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.