Heart of the Ranch

book one of three
cowboy meets fashion London girl
grumpy cowboy x talkative city girl

"Right, listen up, because this is Josie, and I'm telling you the story of how my life went utterly off the rails. One minute, I was navigating the Central Line; the next, I'm the newest, most tragically unqualified cowgirl on a ranch in the middle of nowhere. Two days in, and I still haven't figured out which end of the horse is which. Honestly, send help.
But forget the animals, let's talk about the man in charge. He's all towering muscle, worn-out denim, and silent, searing authority. My boss. He's so smoking hot he should come with a hazard warning. Unfortunately, his personality is colder and dryer than the bottom of a bourbon bottle. Seriously, the man has the emotional range of a petrified twig-or maybe a cold, silver teaspoon, if we're feeling generous. He's purely professional, which is an utter nightmare when every single cell in my body wants him to be anything but.

(A quick word from the author here, just between us: You want the spice? You want the heat? Trust me, we are delivering maximum erotic tension. He's 28, he's the oldest brother, and, the absolute kicker? He's a single dad. It's the perfect hot cowboy story, but with a less famous, more real-deal ranch and your girl, the Londoner, throwing a spanner in the works. We just have to survive the initial hostility first, promise!)

So, I've decided: my mission is to thaw that cowboy out, even if it kills me. Trouble is, I just caught him in the barn-half-naked, slick with rain, muscles straining like barbed wire. That's fine, I thought. I can handle the view. Until he cornered me, laid down one singular, non-negotiable rule for my time here, and walked away. A rule I, naturally, decided to violate the second his back was turned. I'm in his office right now, doing the one thing he explicitly forbade.
Pray for my virtue, girls. It's about to be demolished. Let the chaos-and the smut-commence."

be nice First book