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Buck Naked

Buck Naked

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Buck Naked

3/5 (1 Bewertung)
107 Seiten
1 Stunde
Nov 13, 2017


Amy Stark has legendary bad taste in men, so she’s given up on finding Mr. Right. When a helpful and hot cowboy stops to help her change a flat, she’s convinced her run of luck isn’t going to change any time soon. Buck Montgomery is far too confident and cocky for her—a sure sign he’ll turn out to be yet another Mr. Wrong. But her decision to stay away from the cowboy is tested when her brother invites him over for a welcome-to-the-county dinner.

Buck left home at eighteen to make his mark on the rodeo circuit, but the lifestyle left its on marks on him. He had success riding bulls, but he’s not proud of everything in his past. When he and Amy start a tentative relationship, Buck knows he should tell her the truth about what lurks in his history before she hears it elsewhere, but every time he opens his mouth, all he can do is kiss her...

Nov 13, 2017

Über den Autor

Desiree Holt is the USA Today bestselling author of the Game On! and Vigilance series, as well as many other books and series in the romantic suspense, paranormal and erotic romance genres. She has been featured on CBS Sunday Morning and in The Village Voice, The Daily Beast, USA Today, The (London) Daily Mail, The New Delhi Times, The Huffington Post and numerous other national and international publications. Readers can find her on Facebook and Twitter, and visit her at as well as

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Buck Naked - Desiree Holt

Table of Contents

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

About the Author

Discover more Select Contemporary titles…

The Negotiator

Code of Honor

12 Steps to Mr. Right

Hard Play

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Desiree Holt. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

Entangled Publishing, LLC

2614 South Timberline Road

Suite 105, PMB 159

Fort Collins, CO 80525

Visit our website at

Select Contemporary is an imprint of Entangled Publishing, LLC.

Edited by Heidi Shoham

Cover design by Fiona Jayde

Cover art from Shutterstock and iStock

ISBN 978-1-64063-070-3

Manufactured in the United States of America

First Edition April 2013

Rerelease November 2017

Chapter One

What a crock. Amy Stark kicked her well-worn boot at the rear tire on her truck, which was now flatter than a pancake. Damn you anyway, Matthew Stark.

If her brother and her best friend weren’t off on their honeymoon, she’d really be mad at them. But she’d been so glad to see them married that she’d readily agreed to attend this cattle auction. She just hadn’t expected her truck to get a flat tire out here in the middle of godforsaken nowhere.

There was a jack in the bed of the truck, but at five foot two and one hundred ten pounds she knew she didn’t have the strength to do what was needed to change the tire. She pulled out her cell phone and rechecked the bars. Only one, and barely visible. Of course. It stood to reason she’d break down where there was no reception and damn little traffic. She thought about kicking the tire one more time, but all she’d do was hurt her foot and it wouldn’t solve any problems.

Sighing, she checked her watch again. Twelve thirty. The cattle auction would start in half an hour and she still had a twenty-minute drive to get there. And the whole reason for her going was to bid on a bull Matt had specifically wanted and told her how high to go.

Damn, damn, damn.

When she heard the rumble of a truck coming down the road, she thought she was having auditory hallucinations for a moment. But then, sure enough, a hulking black pickup came around the curve not half a mile away, driving as if it owned the highway. Hoping it wasn’t a sex pervert or a murderer driving, Amy waved her hands in the traditional motion for the driver to stop.

The pickup slowed, came to a stop about six feet from her and the driver’s door opened. And Amy nearly swallowed her tongue when she saw what climbed down to the road. At least six feet of honking sexy man, his tight butt clearly outlined in his jeans, broad shoulders stretching the fabric of his shirt, traditional Stetson clapped on his head. He turned and walked toward her with the typical loose-hipped stride of the seasoned cowboy. His face was tanned, accented by dark brows and the blackest eyes she’d ever seen. His lips were curved in a smile that could have melted her panties if she let it.

He surveyed her truck with its flat tire. Looks like you’ve got a problem here. That’s some big truck for a woman your size to handle.

Amy felt her temper spiking. A woman her size? Big truck? She jammed her fists onto her hips and glared at him. I’ll have you know I drive this truck all the time. I just…just…had an unexpected setback here.

The man laughed, a rich, deep sound. I’d say so. Where you heading?

She waved down the highway. There’s a cattle auction not far from here. I was supposed to be there a while ago.

Oh? Taking something to your boss?

To her boss? Holy shit. Who was this cretin? A relic from another century? She ground her teeth, hard, but decided arguing with him wouldn’t get her anywhere. If he’d just help her get the damn tire changed, she’d be on her way. Probably never see him again. Which under other circumstances might not be too bad. But right now she was having too much trouble controlling her temper to worry about other physical reactions.

I just need to get there. She found a pleading smile from someplace and pasted it on her face. Is there a chance that you could help me? Do you have the time?

For someone as pretty as you, I think I can make the time. Where’s the jack?

As pretty as her? Was this guy not the biggest chauvinist in the world? She was waiting for him to call her little lady.

She chuffed out a breath. In the bed. I’ll open it for you.

Still keeping herself under control, Amy unlocked the truck bed and raised the cover lowering the tailgate.

I can take it from here, he told her and handed her is Stetson. Black, like his truck and his clothes.

Amy was sure her back teeth would be ground to dust by the time she got her tire changed, but she couldn’t afford to annoy him. She just stood to the side, holding his hat like some hat rack or bimbo, while he expertly loosened the lug nuts and pulled off the flat. She’d never seen her savior before, so she glanced at the door of his truck to see if it had a ranch logo on it, but the panel was bare. Of course that meant nothing. She’d didn’t have Stark Ranch on hers either. It was too new.

At last the tire was changed and the man tossed the flat into the truck bed. He pulled a handkerchief out of his back pocket, wiped his forehead and his hands and retrieved his hat. He moved with a relaxed, effortless ease, yet there seemed to be a contradictory fine line of tension running through his body. As if he had to be wary at all times. What on earth was that all about?

Thank you. She held out her hand to him. I really appreciate this.

His hand nearly swallowed hers, the warmth of it seeping into her system. With great determination, she ignored the tingles that shot up her arm and spread throughout her body.

I’ve got to get out more.

My pleasure. He winked at her. Hope you get to your boss in time. He started to walk away.

I’ll be sure to tell him what a help you were. She couldn’t keep the edge of sarcasm out of her voice.

He just waved at her over his shoulder.

Wait, she called after him. I didn’t even ask your name.

Just call me Good Samaritan, he said without turning around.

Then he was in his truck, the big engine purred to life and he pulled away. Amy stared after him. She was used to having men hit on her, even in a casual way, unless they happened to be gay. Not that every man did, but enough so it was a common occurrence. But this guy didn’t even seem to take notice of her femininity. His attitude seemed more patronizing than anything else. She was surprised he hadn’t called her little lady.

She climbed back into her pickup, gunned the motor and laid rubber peeling out into the road, then decided she’d better settle down if she didn’t want to get a ticket.

Twenty minutes later, she pulled into Heiser’s Auction Site, where nearly every ranch in the area shipped their cattle for sale. Buyers came from three states to bid on the finest Texas produced. Afterwards there would be a barbecue with music and a bar and

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