A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas. Amanda Renee

      

      JINGLE BELLS—OR WEDDING BELLS?

      Some people would have thought getting stranded at the Silver Bells guest ranch in Saddle Ridge, Montana, for Christmas—with the dreamy Dylan Slade, no less—was idyllic. But for real estate acquisitions expert Emma Sheridan, it’s a disaster! Because Dylan is standing in the way of the takeover deal that could secure her promotion and her daughter’s future.

      Dylan has no intention of selling. So why does he suddenly care so much about what happens to Emma...and her unborn baby girl? Now, with a preterm labor scare and a serious storm conspiring to keep them snowbound for Christmas, Dylan has two weeks to change her mind about her company’s takeover. And maybe even about him!

      “I thought my uncle wasn’t much of a gossip—turns out I was wrong.”

      “Jax cared for you very much. Part of his reason for selling was so you could have your freedom again.”

      Dylan tugged off his gloves. “Well, doesn’t that just beat all? This ranch was my freedom. My home. By taking it away from me, he was taking away every last breath I had.”

      “He thought if you had a fresh start on your own ranch without the debt and problems of this place hanging over your head that you’d be able to move on.”

      Dylan recoiled at her words. “Oh, you’re good.”

      “I don’t understand.”

      “Your job is to convince me to sell and you’re using the information my uncle told you against me. I already know my uncle’s final wish was to sell this place. Doesn’t mean I’m going to honor it.”

      “Forget I said anything.”

      Emma stormed out of the stables, leaving him alone with nothing but a pile of manure.

      A Snowbound Cowboy Christmas

      Amanda Renee

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

      AMANDA RENEE was raised in the northeast and now wriggles her toes in the warm coastal Carolina sands. Her career began when she was discovered through Mills & Boon So You Think You Can Write contest. When not creating stories about love and laughter, she enjoys the company of her schnoodle, Duffy, camping, playing guitar and piano, photography and anything involving horses. You can visit her at www.amandarenee.com.

      To my editor, Johanna Raisanen:

      Thank you for your invaluable guidance on this book!

      Contents

       Cover

       Back Cover Text

       Introduction

       Title Page

       About the Author

       Dedication

       Chapter One

       Chapter Two

       Chapter Three

       Chapter Four

       Chapter Five

       Chapter Six

       Chapter Seven

       Chapter Eight

       Chapter Nine

       Chapter Ten

       Chapter Eleven

       Chapter Twelve

       Chapter Thirteen

       Chapter Fourteen

       Chapter Fifteen

       Extract

       Copyright

       Chapter One

      “I’m not selling you my ranch.”

      Emma Sheridan’s skin prickled beneath her down parka at the sound of the voice behind her. She’d recognize it anywhere. Dylan Slade. They’d only met face-to-face once during the summer and had three or four brief phone conversations since, but his masculine resonance was impossible to forget. He was every man’s cowboy and every woman’s fantasy. Okay, maybe not every woman’s, but he had snuck into her dreams a time or ten. Then again, it could just be her pregnancy hormones talking.

      Emma handed her credit card to the front desk clerk at the Silver Bells Guest Ranch, and then turned to face Dylan. “Mr. Slade.” Her breath caught at the realization he stood less than an arm’s length away. “Please accept my sincerest sympathies. I only knew your Uncle Jax for a year, but he was a wonderful man with a generous heart.”

      “That he was.” Dylan tugged off his work gloves and unzipped his whiskey-colored rancher jacket. “I appreciate your condolences, but it doesn’t explain why you’re here. We received your company’s floral arrangement.”

      Emma cringed. She hated the customary funeral-home flowers her firm had sent. They were cold and impersonal. She’d mailed Dylan a hand-written card as well, but he didn’t bother to mention it. Then again, why would he? Her visit wasn’t to relay condolences in person. It was business. Business she needed to settle before her baby was born. She glanced up at him. His dark, well-worn cowboy hat shielded his eyes more than she’d have preferred. It made reading him difficult, which she assumed was intentional.

      “I thought if we could talk—”

      “You’d what? Change my mind? I’m not selling the ranch.” He shrugged out of his coat as he strode past her, revealing faded snug Wranglers that fit him better than any pair of jeans had a right to. Inwardly, she groaned, relieved when