To Desire a Wilde

“I’ve missed you, Ellie Crandall,” he said, his voice low. “More than I realized.”

As he began to lower his head, Ellie felt her eyes flutter shut.

Gently he placed a small series of nibbling kisses along the lower rim of her mouth, undemanding, soft and inquisitive.

With a moan of surrender, she eagerly rose on tiptoe to press her body closer to his. Her action caused him to tug her closer to his body and she became acutely aware of her breasts pressed against his hard chest.

She inhaled a swift breath. There was nothing innocent about the feel of his arousal, strong and unyielding as it pressed against her belly.

“God, Ellie … you taste so good. Your mouth is like honey,” he told her with a catch in his voice. He bent back down to recapture her lips, wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her impossibly closer to his big, hard body.

Arching her body fully into his, on fire from his talented tongue, Ellie tunneled her fingers through his hair.

“Dr. Eleanor Crandall, you’re wanted at the front!”

And just like that, the sound of her father’s voice right outside the door brought Ellie’s eyes wide open.

KIMBERLY KAYE TERRY’S love for reading romances began at an early age. Long into the night she would stay up with her Mickey Mouse night-light on, until she reached The End, praying she wouldn’t be caught reading what her mother called “those” types of books. Often she would acquire her stash of “those” books from beneath her mother’s bed. Ahem. To date she’s an award-winning author of fourteen novels in romance and erotic romance, has garnered acclaim for her work and happily calls writing her full-time job.

Kimberly has a bachelor’s degree in social work, a master’s degree in human relations and has held licenses in social work and mental health therapy in the United States and abroad. She volunteers weekly at various social-service agencies and is a long-standing member of Zeta Phi Beta Sorority, Inc., a community-conscious organization. Kimberly is a naturalist and practices aromatherapy. She believes in embracing the powerful woman within each of us and meditates on a regular basis. Kimberly would love to hear from you. Visit her at www.kimberlykayeterry.com.

Books by Kimberly Kaye Terry

Kimani Romance

Hot to Touch To Tempt a Wilde To Love a Wilde To Desire a Wilde

Dear Reader,

There is nothing sexier or more emotionally charged than reaching for and holding on tight to a love you once thought unattainable—which is exactly what happens to the hero and heroine in my third installment of the Wilde in Wyoming series.

In To Desire a Wilde, sexy Shilah Wilde comes face-to-face with Ellie Crandall, the one woman he’s never been able to get out of his mind—something that no one, least of all Ellie, ever knew. When she left Wyoming to pursue her career as a veterinarian, following in her father’s footsteps, she swore she’d never return, despite the feelings she once had for Shilah. But now she’s back, ten years later, and working for the USDA in a case against the Wilde Ranch. Despite doubts and questions, sparks fly and passions ignite. The hidden yearnings they once shared for each other blossom into a raging passion that sets the Wyoming Wilde Ranch and everything in its path ablaze.

I appreciate your support and will always do my best to deliver to you, my valued readers, emotionally charged stories filled with love, life and laughter … and red-hot, scalding passion!

Keep it sexy!

Kimberly

TO DESIRE A WILDE

Kimberly Kaye Terry

www.millsandboon.co.uk

To my amazing daughter, who fills me with laughter and

makes my days brighter. I love you, pooh!

Chapter 1

Ellie’s booted footsteps sank silently into the damp grass that separated the east stable from the closed corral. She stopped at the coral’s locked gate and propped her arms along the fence and tilted her face upward.

The sun fell like magic against her upturned face. An unknowing smile tugged at the corners of her full lips as she drew in a deep, hungry breath.

It had been a long time since she’d been at the ranch. She blew out the breath and turned her attention to the lone corralled horse.

The female thoroughbred standing alone, isolated, was one of the Wilde Ranch’s latest acquisitions, one that Nate Wilde, the oldest brother, had bought at a ranch near Cheyenne several months ago.

From her father, who was the veterinarian for the Wilde Ranch, Ellie knew they’d tried mating the Arabian a few times with several of their top-quality quarter horses. However, they had quickly realized that although they’d managed to tame her, it hadn’t been enough to allow her to tolerate another horse anywhere near her—at least not for mating.

She stood grazing in the middle of the corral, content to be left alone.

Ellie felt a certain empathy with the beautiful horse. She too found contentment in being alone.

After several minutes Ellie turned away and again lifted her face upward, shielding her eyes from the brightly glowing sun.

It was late spring, and nature had awakened from her winter sleep. The ranch was alive with noise from horses and cattle as well as sounds of men hard at work across the sprawling ranch.

Spring was mating and branding season for the cattle, and with a new venture into crossbreeding horses, it was a busy time at Wyoming Wilde. The men were also hard at work preparing for one of their largest auctions, to come in the fall, and a lot depended on this season.

The ranch had come a long way from the days when Jed Wilde had run the one hundred acre spread alone, trying to make ends meet. Now it was one of the most prosperous family-owned ranches in the country.

Ellie glanced around, remembering the many times she’d visited the ranch growing up, accompanying her father on his visits.

She’d always felt at home at Wyoming Wilde. As the only child of older parents, she’d been cosseted, protected—some would say overly protected—by both parents and outside of activities with them; the ranch had become a second home to her.

Ellie had come as a complete surprise to her mother, told long ago she couldn’t have children. Because of that, her parents’ tendency toward overprotecting her had made Ellie more content at home, curled up with a book or playing with the few animals her parents had on their own land.

With her love for animals, the ranch became her own haven. Only at the ranch did her father give her free rein to explore, allowing her to follow the ranchers around as they went about their duties. It was a place where she felt like any other child, playing, learning about the animals, without inhibition.

A bittersweet memory flooded her mind. It was also the place where part of that independence her parents had afforded her had been taken away.

She’d been young, only ten years old, not long after Jed Wilde had become a foster father for three young boys he’d later adopted.

Ellie had been riding one of the horses, alone, something she knew her father wouldn’t approve of. But she had been so caught up in the sheer enjoyment of the warm day, riding with the wind rushing against her face, she hadn’t realized she’d gone out so far, with no one around.

Voices calling out to her had caught up with her on the wind, and she’d stopped, glancing over her shoulder to see Jed Wilde and the three young boys riding with him.

Surprised, Ellie had spun around and startled the horse when she’d reined him around too fast. The horse had lost its footing and Ellie had come tumbling down. With her foot caught in the stirrup the panicked horse had dragged her several feet until the men had caught up with them and managed to free Ellie.

She didn’t remember much after that. The searing pain radiating from her knee up the length of her thigh had made her so dizzy she’d passed out. She’d come in and out of consciousness, her father clutching her hand as Jed Wilde had driven them to the hospital.

When finally she’d awakened, it had been in a hospital bed, staring up into the worried face of a young boy.

She’d been confused, dazed and not sure where she was, or who the boy was staring down at her.

“It’s … it’s gonna be all right,” he’d whispered.

Ellie had frowned, sniffing back tears. “What—” She’d stopped speaking, grimacing when she moved and a pain shot up her leg. “What happened?”

He’d touched her hand, holding it within his, his young face lined with worry. “You had an accident. But everything is gonna be okay. They fixed you up real good. Everything is gonna be okay,” he said again, as though he didn’t know what else to say to her.

Before Ellie could ask who he was, her parents, along with a nurse, had rushed into her room. Her mother ran to her side, and from her peripheral vision Ellie saw the boy step back, silently moving away and allowing her mother to take the hand he’d just held.

She’d learned that when she’d fallen from the horse, one foot had gotten caught in the stirrup. Unable to free herself, the horse had dragged her, and her knee had violently turned. During the traumatic chain of events she’d also suffered a concussion.

Upon her arrival at the hospital, unconscious, she’d had an MRI of her knee—the swelling had been so severe, they were unable to ascertain the extent of the damage. She’d suffered an ACL injury that would take years of therapy, and eventually surgery. The devastating news that her knee would never be the same and she’d have to wear a brace for years to regain her mobility had changed her life.

Although her knee had healed—better than the doctors had expected, in fact—there were times when her limp became more pronounced. But it was unnoticeable most of the time Her continual physical therapy, the brace she wore for years and sheer determination had seen to that.

Even as a girl Ellie had a determination that belied her young years. The pain that came with recovery she could deal with. It was the stares and looks of sympathy on the faces of her peers, and adults, that had left a scar deeper than the ones inflicted on her knee.

Already introverted, she had retreated even further into her shell. So her father had reluctantly allowed her to come back to the ranch, desperate to see his daughter return to being the happy child she’d been, before the accident.

At the ranch she was able to be free, no one looked at her with sympathy in their eyes as their glance would fall to her leg, supported by the brace. At Wyoming Wilde, the ranchers allowed her to work, encouraged her to and treated her like one of them.

At the ranch, the men … as well as Jed’s young foster sons, treated her like anyone else, something she never forgot.

Especially one of the boys, in particular, the one whom she’d seen at the hospital, who’d taken her hand. Shilah Wilde.

The memory of Shilah Wilde replaced those of a more painful nature. Although she’d been only a young girl, she remembered how his concern for her had affected her, the way he’d wiped away her tears and held her hand, even for that brief moment,.

Each of the boys had his own distinct personality. Nate, the oldest, took on the role of big brother, and had always seemed to be mature, despite his young age. Holt, the youngest brother, was the flirt, the one with the ready comeback.

But it was the middle brother, Shilah, whom Ellie had been drawn to.

He was quieter than his brothers, yet in his dark eyes there was a wealth of humor at times, sadness at others. She remembered her mother once commenting that Shilah had what the old people would call an “old soul.”

Although she only saw him a handful of times during her visits to the ranch before her accident, she’d been aware that he’d been following her. Before the accident, she’d been too shy to call out to him, let him know that she knew he was following her.

Afterward, it had taken months before she’d garnered enough courage to do so. It wasn’t long before their tentative friendship had blossomed into one Ellie had cherished.

He’d brought out a side of her that few besides her parents ever saw, especially after the accident. His ability to make her laugh, even when she didn’t want to, was one that she never forgot.

And she’d never forgotten his impact on her.

“Ellie? Is that you?” A deep voice penetrated her thoughts, jerked her out of her memories. She spun around.

Shielding her eyes with her hand, Ellie watched as a large figure emerged from the cover of a newly budding magnolia tree. Slowly she backed up, until her back bumped up against the wood fence, her heartbeat increasing in tempo.

She knew she was safe at the ranch, as once, long ago, it had been like a second home to her. But now, everything … everyone, was so new to her, it was as though she were seeing the place for the first time.

Once the figure came into full view, Ellie drew in a breath, her mouth forming a perfect O of surprise. It couldn’t be …

“Shilah?” she asked, her frown easing from her mouth as the figure came into full view.

“Hey, El … long time no see,” he said, a slow smile hijacking the corner of his mouth, his voice deeper than she remembered.

She drew in a breath, her glance sliding over him as he stood several feet away.

Not only was his voice deeper than she remembered, but he was taller. At five foot eight, Ellie was used to being close to the same height as most men. In heels she was often taller. But as he drew closer, despite the high heels on her boots, she had to stretch her neck up to see into his face.

Oh, mercy … And what a face. He removed his Stetson and a soundless breath of appreciation escaped from her lips.

For a moment she stood still, their gazes locked. Once he removed his hat, she could see his face fully. Handsome was much too tame a description for him.

His skin was a natural light golden hue, due to his Native American heritage, reminding her of cream with a strong hint of sweet, decadent honey. High sculpted cheekbones, a narrow nose and square chin gave him the kind of looks that would make anyone stop and stare. The set of his features was perfect. His face could have been sculpted by a master artisan.

But it was his eyes that sent a deep shiver over her body, despite the warm day. Dark, slashing brows were set above deep-set chocolate-brown eyes, the thin ring of gold around the iris lending him an almost … predatory appearance.

Her glance slid to his mouth, where one corner was curved lightly in a half smile and everything … feminine … in Ellie went still. As he moved closer, she found herself rooted to the spot, unable to move.

Several steps more and he was standing a foot away from her. “You’re home,” he said, simply.

Before she could read the play of emotions that crossed his handsome face he’d reached over and pulled her close, tight against his body and into his once-familiar embrace.

Chapter 2

Once he released her, he pushed her away, running his glance over her.

Ellie’s heart was still pounding out a ragged beat and she quelled the urge to place her hand in her hair to tuck imaginary strands back into the low chignon she wore at the base of her neck.

Shaken, she took a few steps away, when the boot of her heel caught on a piece of timber, turning her ankle and twisting her knee. She hissed, reached down and gingerly rubbed her knee.

Immediately he was there, next to her, grabbing her beneath the elbow to steady her.

“Are you okay?” Shilah asked, his warm hand cupped beneath her elbow.

Ellie bit back a curse. Of all the times for her to lose her balance—this was the one time she would give anything for it not to happen.

She shook her head, dismissing her clumsiness, hiding her grimace as well as her embarrassment.

“I’m fine … just clumsy,” she said. “And I should have known better than to try and be cute by wearing these boots,” she finished in self-mockery, laughing lightly and glancing up at him. As she looked into his handsome face, old ghosts reared and Ellie inwardly cringed, expecting to see sympathy in his dark eyes. That was something she couldn’t take. Especially from Shilah.

“From where I stand, I’d have to say with all selfishness that a potential tumble was well worth it, considering what those boots do for your legs.”

She wet her bottom lip, not sure what to say she was so shocked at his reply. She tugged the hem of her skirt down past her knee and glanced back up at him. Instead of the sympathy she dreaded to see lurking there, what she saw made her draw in a short breath.

She remembered how gorgeous he’d been as a young man, the way he’d look at her, a half smile on his sensual lips in response to something she’d said, sending her young heart thumping out of control. But now, standing before her, so tall that his broad shoulders blocked out the noontime sun’s blazing rays, Stetson held loosely in his big hand … the man was devastating.

She drew in a breath, wetting the bottom rim of her lip. When his gaze followed her action, she swallowed and forced herself to look away.

“Are you okay?” he asked again, and she shook her head, the smile on her face shaky.

“I’m fine.” When she pulled away slightly, after only a brief pause, he released his hold on her, allowing her to move away.

“So I see,” he said, and her gaze flew to his again, her heartbeat hiccupping in her chest. In his enigmatic expression she was unable to determine if he meant the comment in any way besides the reference to her turning her ankle.

She smiled tightly and turned toward the horse in the corral.

“Dad says you and your brothers have started breeding racehorses,” she said, in an attempt to get the conversation toward safer ground.

She felt his gaze on hers and held her breath, only releasing it when he turned toward the horse.

“Yeah, we’ve gone into breeding and crossbreeding. It’s been going well for us. It was mainly Nate’s idea, although we’ve been thinking about doing it for a while now,” he said, and she nodded her head.

“Dad says you bought more land a couple of years ago,” she both asked and stated.

“We did. Actually it was six years ago, after Dad died. It was part of the original land he’d purchased but had to sell in order to keep the ranch afloat years ago.”

“Has he been … gone that long?” she shook her head.

The mention of Jed Wilde brought a look of sadness to Shilah’s face. “Yeah, time has a way of going on, no matter what.”

“Seems like yesterday he was out here with you … with all of us. Teaching us, sharing his love for the ranch,” she said after a long moment, a reminiscent smile on her face. “Showing us how to brand a cow,” she finished with a small laugh.

“Yeah, and I remember that only too well. When he offered to let you brand one you had no problem. Did it like you’d been branding cows your whole life. But when my turn came around, I passed out,” he said with a groan, and Ellie laughed outright.

“That’s funny, huh?” he asked, and although his look was stern, she saw the humor lurking in his unique eyes.

“Yep, sure is,” she quipped, unrepentant. “What was it Holt started calling you after that?” Ellie frowned, trying to remember the nickname.

“Sheila … Little Heifer Who Sleeps With Cows,” he filled in, deadpan, and Ellie’s laughter grew. “He shortened it to Sheila.”

“Oh, my God, that was funny,” she said around her laughter.

“I caught a lot of shit from my brothers about that. It was a long time before Holt stop referring to me by that name,” he said, running a hand over the back of his neck, a humorous yet chagrined look on his handsome face, and a fresh wave of giggles assaulted Ellie.

“Of course, after that, Holt, the eternal funnyman, couldn’t stop. When I sliced into my finger while we were slaughtering I was known as Sheila, Boy Who Spills His Guts,” he said, and again, Ellie’s laughter rang out. By the time he finished reminiscing about the various nicknames his brother had given him, she was swiping tears from her eyes.

“Why’d you leave, Ellie? Why’d you leave without saying goodbye?”

His question brought Ellie up short and her laughter died out. Slowly, she dragged her eyes up to meet his intense stare.

Shilah glanced down at Ellie, taking in the somber set of her features, and he cursed himself.

For a moment, she was the young girl he remembered from their childhood, particularly before her accident, when her carefree laughter would ring out on the wings of the wind as she played on the ranch.

Within several months of his calling the ranch home, Shilah had first glimpsed Ellie. It was her laughter that had brought him to the shed that held the horses. He’d watched as she’d fed the horse, petting and talking to it as though it understood what she was saying. Her love and natural affinity for the horse had reminded him of his life on the reservation and instantly made him curious about her.

He’d followed her without her knowledge as she’d taken the horse out for a ride.

He’d stayed out far enough behind that she hadn’t been aware of him, yet he’d been able to watch her and it had set a pattern. Whenever she’d visit the ranch, while her father took care of the animals she’d go for one of her rides, and he’d find an excuse to leave without his brothers or foster father knowing.

He’d been set to follow her one day as she rode, but a call from Jed had made him turn around and head back home. It had been on that day that part of her laughter had been taken from her, a day he’d never forgotten.

The accident had been freakish and although he, his brothers and father weren’t to blame, a part of Shilah had always faulted himself for her fall. Had he followed her that day, or at least told her father where she was, he could have somehow prevented the fall and the accident.

It had taken a long time after the accident before he had been able to forget the pain in her eyes when she’d glanced up at him. She’d looked so small in the hospital bed, the crisp white linens startling against her deep brown skin as she gazed up at him, pain and confusion in her light brown eyes.

It had taken even longer for him to finally get the nerve up to talk to her. By then, she was even more closed off, more introverted than he remembered, and any attempt at conversation was normally met with silence or at most a short reply before she’d make an excuse to turn and, favoring her uninjured leg, walk away.

His glance slid over her as she stood close to him, their gazes locked.

Eventually, she’d begun to thaw toward him, open up to him, allowing him to become what he’d learned was a small circle of people she trusted. Her visits to the ranch with her father increased, and whenever he knew she was coming, he took pains with his appearance, carefully keeping his friendship with Ellie from his brothers.

Not because he was afraid of the ribbing he’d no doubt get, but because their friendship was special to him, unlike any relationship he’d had with anyone else.

After graduating from high school and entering college, their time together was short. Between school and work, Shilah barely had time for much else. Life for Ellie became busy as well, with preparing for college and working in her father’s office part-time, the two grew apart.