Ooooh, an enemies-to-lovers marriage-of-convenience for the holidays … sounds fun!
*****
Claiming the Rancher’s Heir
Gold Valley Vineyards series
by Maisey Yates
ISBN: 9781335154002
Price: $7.99
On Sale Date: Nov 10, 2020
Blurb:
Arrogant, infuriating, insufferableβ¦ And the sexiest man sheβs ever met.
Wren Maxfield hates Creed Cooper, but now sheβs working with the wealthy rancher over the holidays! Those strong feelings hide undeniable chemistryβ¦and one wild night results in pregnancy. Now Creed vows to claim his heir. That means proposing a marriage in name only. But as desire takes over, is that a deal they can keep?
Includes Rancherβs Wild Secret, a bonus story!
Emerson Maxfield is a sheltered beauty who never steps out of line. Now she must marry her familyβs enemy before desire spells downfall for them allβ¦
Indie Bound: https://www.indiebound.org/book/9781335154002
Walmart: https://www.walmart.com/search/search-ng.do?search_query=9781335154002
*****
Excerpt:
Creed Cooper was a cowboy. A rich, successful cowboy from one of the most well-regarded families in Logan County. He also happened to be tall, muscular and in possession of the kind of good looks a lot of women liked.
As a result, nearly nothingβor no oneβwas off-limits to him.
No one except Wren Maxfield.
Maybe that was why every time he looked at her his hands itched.
To unwind that tight bun from her hair. To make that mouth, which was always flattened in disapprovalβat least around himβget soft and sexy and get all over his body.Β
And he had that itch a lot, considering he and Wren were the representatives for their respective familiesβ vineyards. Rivals, in fact.
And she hated him.
She hated him so much that when she saw him her eyes flared with a particular kind of fire.
Fair enough, since he couldnβt really stand her either.
But somehow, years ago, a piece of that dislike inside him had twisted and caught hard in his gut and turned into an intensity of another kind entirely.
He was obsessed.
Obsessed with the idea he might be able to use that fire in her eyes to burn up the sheets between them.
Instead, he had to listen to her heels clicking on the floor as she paced around the showroom of Cowboy Wines, looking like a smug cat, making him wait to hear whatever plan it was sheβd come to tell him about.
βAre you listening to me?β she asked suddenly, her green cat eyes getting sharp.
She was dressed in a tight-fitting red dress that fell to the top of her knees. It had a high, wide neck, and while it didnβt show a lot of skin, it hugged her full breasts so tight it didnβt leave a lot to the imagination.
Even if it had, his imagination was damn good. And it was willing to work for Wren. Overtime.Β
She had on those ridiculous spiked heels, too. Red, like the dress. He wanted to see her in only those heels.
He wasnβt into prissy women. Not generally. He liked a more practical girl. A cowgirl who would be at home on his ranch.
Wren looked like she never left her family showroom, all glass walls and wrought iron furniture. Maxfield Vineyards was the premier wine brand for people who were up their own asses.
And still, he wanted her.
That might be her greatest sin.
That she tested control heβd had firmly leashed for the last eighteen years and made him want to send it right to hell as he burned in her body.
Of all the reasons to hate Wren Maxfield, wanting her and not being able to do a damn thing to make himself stop was number one on the list.
He looked around the Cowboy Wines showroom, the barrels with glass tabletops on them, the heavy, distressed beams that ran the length of the room.
And then there was him: battered jeans and cowboy boots, a hat for good measure.
Everything a woman like Wren would hate.
A testament to just why there was no reason to carry a burning torch for her fine little body.
Too bad his own body was a dumbass.
βI wasnβt listening at all,β he said, making sure to drawl it. As slow as possible. He was rewarded withΒ a subtle flare of heat in those eyes. βMake it more interesting next time, Wren. Maybe do a dance.β
βThe only dancing Iβll ever do is on your grave, Creed.β
The sparring sent a kick of lust through him. They did this every time they were in a room together. Every damn time. No matter that he knew he shouldnβt indulge it.
But hell, he was afraid the alternative was stripping her naked and screwing her against the nearest wall, and that wasnβt a real option.
So verbal sparring it was.
βWhat did I die of?β he asked. βBoredom?β
Those eyes shot sparks at him. βIt was tragic. You were found with a high heel protruding out of your chest.β Her magic lips curved upward and he felt it like sheβd pressed them against his neck.
βAny suspects so far?β
βYour own smart mouth. Are you going to listen to me or not?β
βYouβre already here. So am I. Might as well.β
He leaned back in his chair and, for effect, put his boots up on the table.
Her top lip curled up into a sneer, and that thrilled him just as much as if sheβd crossed the room to straddle his lap. Okay, maybe not just as much, but he loved that he got to her.
*****
Author Info:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author Maisey Yates lives in rural Oregon with her three children and her husband, whose chiseled jaw and arresting features continue to make her swoon. She feels the epic trek she takes several times a day from her office to her coffee maker is a true example of her pioneer spirit.
In 2009, at the age of twenty-three Maisey sold her first book. Since then itβs been a whirlwind of sexy alpha males and happily ever afters, and she wouldnβt have it any other way. Maisey divides her writing time between dark, passionate category romancesΒ set just about everywhere on earth and light sexy contemporary romances set practically in her back yard. She believes that she clearly has the best job in the world.
Website: http://www.maiseyyates.com/
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/maiseyyates/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MaiseyYates.Author/
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