LITMIR.BIZ

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      KATHIE DENOSKY

      lives in her native southern Illinois with her husband and one very spoiled Jack Russell terrier. She writes highly sensual stories with a generous amount of humor. Kathie’s books have appeared on the Waldenbooks bestseller list and received the Write Touch Readers’ Award from WisRWA and the National Readers’ Choice Award. She enjoys going to rodeos, traveling to research settings for her books and listening to country music. Readers may contact Kathie at P.O. Box 2064, Herrin, Illinois 62948-5264 or e-mail her at [email protected].

      To professional bull rider Tater Porter, for taking the time to answer my many questions and for sharing his experience and knowledge with me. Thanks, Tater. You’re one of the best.

      To Dr. Tandy Freeman and physical trainer Dave Lammers, for giving me a tour of a PBR training room and for explaining how they assist injured riders.

      And a special thank-you to the Professional Bull Riders for showing me a behind-the-scenes look at this exciting sport. Without their help the Lonetree Ranchers series would not have been possible.

      Contents

      Chapter One

      Chapter Two

      Chapter Three

      Chapter Four

      Chapter Five

      Chapter Six

      Chapter Seven

      Chapter Eight

      Chapter Nine

      Chapter Ten

      Epilogue

      One

      As Kaylee Simpson arranged rolls of gauze and tape on a cart in the training room, the sudden hushed silence of the Ford Center crowd sent a numbing fear straight through her. There was only one reason an arena full of Professional Bull Riders fans became that quiet—one of the riders was down and not moving.

      Closing her eyes, she held her breath and tried not to think as she waited for the applause that would signal the rider was being helped to his feet. But with each passing minute the likelihood of that happening dwindled considerably. When she heard several sets of boots hurrying down the corridor toward the training room, she knew they were bringing the rider in on a stretcher.

      Dear God, please don’t let it be anyone I know, she prayed.

      “Get his vitals,” Dr. Carson ordered as he entered the room followed by several other men carrying a stretcher. They hoisted it onto the examining table.

      Grabbing the needed equipment, Kaylee’s hands shook as she stepped up beside the unconscious cowboy. But the moment she gazed down at the handsome face of the fallen bull rider, her heart slammed against her ribs and she felt the blood drain from her cheeks.

      “Colt,” she whispered out loud.

      The blood pressure cuff fell from her trembling hands to the floor. She barely noticed.

      “You know this guy?” one of the paramedics asked, picking up the cuff on his way back to the arena.

      Apparently he had no idea who the bull riders were. But Kaylee knew.

      Unable to get words past the huge lump clogging her throat, she took the cuff from him, closed her eyes and nodded. She’d grown up around most of the cowboys on the PBR circuit, and until three years ago, most of them had been like brothers to her.

      But the one lying on the table in front of her had always been different. She’d known Colt Wakefield from the time he was sixteen years old and she was ten. He’d been her brother’s best friend, the love of her young life and the man who had broken her heart.

      “Kaylee, if you’re not going to take his blood pressure, step aside and let one of the others do it,” Dr. Carson said impatiently as he ran clinical hands over Colt’s scalp.

      The doctor’s sharp tone snapped her out of her shocked state and she moved to follow his directive. Placing the cuff on Colt’s arm, she pumped it full of air, then listened with the stethoscope. “His blood pressure is one ten over seventy.”

      “Good. Help me get his riding gear off and his shirt open so we can see what we have here,” Dr. Carson instructed.

      Kaylee took a deep breath and unzipped the front of the protective black leather vest with trembling fingers, then released the heavy-duty Velcro closure at Colt’s right shoulder while Dr. Carson unfastened the left side. Forcing herself to continue, she pushed the heavy leather out of the way and unsnapped his chambray shirt for the doctor to take a closer look.

      But when she parted the garment, the sight of Colt’s well-developed chest and rippling stomach muscles sent a shiver straight to her core and brought back memories that she’d worked for three long years to forget. Without thinking, she touched his smooth, warm skin with her fingertips. The last time she’d seen him without a shirt—the last time she’d seen him, period—had been the night after her brother’s funeral. Devastated by Mitch’s death, they’d turned to each other for comfort and support, and ended up…

      “K-Kaylee?”

      The sound of Colt’s voice caused her to recoil. He’d regained consciousness without her realizing it.

      Glancing down into his incredibly blue eyes, she felt as if she might not be able to draw her next breath. “Hi, Colt.”

      When she’d met him fourteen years ago, she’d decided he was the cutest boy she’d ever seen. But his good looks back then had only been a hint of the devilishly handsome man he would become. With raven hair and brilliant blue eyes, he’d always taken her breath away. Unfortunately, it appeared time hadn’t lessened his effect on her.

      Deciding to revert to the teasing relationship they’d shared before the events that changed her life forever, she added, “I see you’re still doing your famous header dismount.”

      His lean cheeks flushed a dull red. “And I see you’re still the same smart-mouthed little brat you’ve always been,” he said, the mischievous light dancing in his eyes taking the sting from his words.

      “That’s where you’re wrong, cowboy,” she said, smiling sadly. Unable to stop herself, she added, “If you’ll

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