The Rancher's Baby. Maisey Yates

      

      She’s having her best friend’s baby... Only from New York Times bestselling author Maisey Yates!

      When a torrid, possibly dangerous scandal comes to Royal, Texas, Selena Jacobs is nearly caught in the middle. Until her best friend Knox McCoy ensures her safety—by moving in! Selena has loved Knox for years, but she’s never had the courage to tell him. Now the sparks she’s tried to smother burn out of control...and leave her pregnant. But with the pain in his past, will Knox finally take a chance on love...with her?

      Selena felt like she was dangerously exposed.

      All of her secrets. All of herself.

      “So that’s it?” he asked. “We kiss after all these years of friendship, and you’re fine.”

      “Knox,” she said, “you don’t want me to be anything but fine. Believe me. It’s better for the two of us if we just move on like nothing happened. I don’t think either of us needs this right now.” Or ever.

      She wanted to hide. But she knew that if she did hide it would only let him know how close he was delving into things she didn’t want him anywhere near. Things she didn’t want anyone near.

      “Yeah,” he said. “I guess so.”

      “You don’t want to talk about our feelings, do you?” she asked, knowing that she sounded testy.

      “Absolutely not. I’ve had enough feelings for a lifetime.”

      “I’m right there with you. I don’t have any interest in messing up a good friendship over a little bit of sex.”

      Knox walked past her, moving back into the shop. Then he paused, kicking his head back out of the doorway. “I agree with you, Selena, except for one little thing. With me, there wouldn’t be anything little about the sex.”

      * * *

      The Rancher’s Baby

      is part of Texas Cattleman’s Club:

      The Impostor series—Will the scandal of

      the century lead to love for these rich ranchers?

      The Rancher’s Baby

      Maisey Yates

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      MAISEY YATES is a New York Times bestselling author of more than thirty romance novels. She has a coffee habit she has no interest in kicking, and a slight Pinterest addiction. She lives with her husband and children in the Pacific Northwest. When Maisey isn’t writing she can be found singing in the grocery store, shopping for shoes online and probably not doing dishes. Check out her website: www.maiseyyates.com.

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       One

       Two

       Three

       Four

       Five

       Six

       Seven

       Eight

       Nine

       Ten

       Eleven

       Twelve

       Thirteen

       Epilogue

       Extract

       Copyright

       One

      My fake ex-husband died at sea and all I got was this stupid letter.

      That was Selena Jacobs’s very dark thought as she stood in the oppressive funeral home clutching said letter so tightly she was wearing a thumbprint into the envelope.

      She supposed that her initial thought wasn’t true—strictly speaking. The letter proclaimed she was the heir to Will’s vast estate.

      It was just that there were four other women at the funeral who had been promised the exact same thing. And Selena couldn’t fathom why Will would have made her the beneficiary of anything, except maybe that hideous bearskin rug he’d gotten from his grandfather that he’d had in his dorm at school. The one she’d hated because the sightless glass eyes had creeped her out.

      Yeah, that she would have believed Will had left her.

      His entire estate, not so much.

      But then, she was still having trouble believing Will was dead. It seemed impossible. He had always been so...so much. Of everything. So much energy. So much light. So much of a pain in the ass sometimes. It seemed impossible that a solemn little urn could contain everything Will Sanders had been. And yet there it was.

      Though she supposed that Will wasn’t entirely contained in the urn. Will, and the general fallout of his life—good and bad—was contained here in this room.

      There were...well, there were a lot of women standing around looking bereft, each one of them holding letters identical to hers. Their feelings on the contents of the letters were different than hers. They must be. They didn’t all run multimillion-dollar corporations.

      Selena’s muted reaction to her supposed inheritance was in some part due to the fact that she doubted the authenticity of the letter. But the other part was because she simply didn’t need the money. Not at this point in her life.

      These other women...

      Well, she didn’t really know. One of them was holding a chubby toddler, her expression blank. There