Rancher's Wild Secret. Maisey Yates

the gem sparkling in the sunlight. “I’m Emerson Maxfield.”

      “Holden Brown,” he said, extending his own hand.

      If James Maxfield weren’t a raging narcissist, Holden might have worried about using his real first name.

      But he doubted the older man would ever connect the younger model he’d used for a couple of months and then discarded with Holden. Why would he? James probably barely remembered Soraya’s first name, much less any of her family connections. Holden himself wasn’t famous. And that was how he liked it. He’d always thought it would be handy to have anonymity. He hadn’t imagined it would be for reasons of revenge.

      He closed his hand around hers. It was soft, desperately so. The hand of a woman who had never done hard labor in her life, and something in him suddenly felt desperate to make this little princess do some down and dirty work.

      Preferably on his body.

      He pulled his hand away.

      “It’s nice to meet you, Holden,” she said.

      “Nice to meet you too.” He bit the pleasantry off at the end, because anything more and he might make a mistake.

      “I have some routes in mind for this new venture. Let’s go for a ride.”