Bachelor Island

Published: 02/12/2016

ISBN Digital: 9781509205448
ISBN Print: 9781509205431
Page Count: 270
Word Count: 68235
Rating: Sensual

Corie Benton, co-producer of television reality show, Bachelor Island, is scheduled to film the grand finale on Kauai. However, the season five BI winner drops out. Producer, Brick Masterson, Corie’s boss and ex-lover refers to the finale as Dante’s Divine Comedy. He needs seven finalists and wants diversity. Corie suggests re-filming with cowboys.
Wyatt Hardy, a Texas cattle rancher suffering through a 3 year drought, medical bills for his ten-year-old daughter’s cancer treatments, and the memory of her mother who died eight years ago, needs a stroke of luck, but the thought of the glitz and glamour of Hollywood spooks him.
Wyatt must fight to win for his two loves—the ranch, and his daughter…well, make that three—also his co-producer.


“You might want to take two, just in case,” a female voice said.

Wyatt did a slow turn. What the hell? He’d know those eyes anywhere. He fast forwarded through his almost-empty file of attractive women and hit pay dirt. How the hell did she get here? She gave him that once over again, the same one she’d given him in his hometown, little old Hardisburg, Texas. He’d never forgotten her, or her scent. She smelled like vanilla pudding.

The woman smiled. “Corie Benton, executive producer of Bachelor Island. Most of us refer to it as BI, along with the number of the episode. You’ll be starring in BI 5. Welcome aboard.”

Wyatt nodded. “Thank you.”

He’d thought she was one of those romance authors who’d been doing a writing retreat at a ranch on the outskirts of town. Huh? Well, how about that? She looked different today. Her long rich brown hair fell in messy waves, whereas last time it had been pulled into a tight bun thing at the back of her neck. His head ached at the thought of it. And she’d been in a damn suit and heels in the middle of Texas, in the rain, and with no umbrella. She’d given him a look as if he smelled bad. He had. Her shoulders were now bare and that sundress hung on by the tiniest of straps. He felt disoriented, pulled in a deep breath, scanned the lobby hoping for Luke to come save him. She looked up, her hand jutting out. The bright, penetrating brown eyes were the same: Questioning.

“Ms. Benton.” He shoved out his hand.

Dammit, he’d almost forgotten the manners his mother had drummed into him. With Ms. Benton’s small hand in his, a soft warm tingle shot up his arm and alerted other parts of his body. He didn’t want to let go of that feeling, or her hand. Enough of that! “Wyatt Hardy.”

“I know,” she said with a smile. “I asked the desk to notify me when you arrived.”

“Your keys, sir.”

Wyatt released her hand, tore his gaze from the woman and back to the registration desk. The man slipped the key cards into a tiny folder. “You’ll need to insert the card into a slot marked in the elevator. It will allow you to access the concierge level.”

“Thanks.” Wyatt picked up the folder. His head and chest pounded. Geez. He obviously didn’t get off the ranch enough. One touch of a woman’s hand and he acted like a teenager.

Copyright © 2018 The Wild Rose Press, Inc.