Treating his horse was professional. Wanting him to claim me in his bed definitely wasn't. Tucker Hayes is everything I swore I'd a client with a sick horse, a seven-year-old daughter who needs stability, and shoulders so broad they make my composure crumble. But he's different from every dismissive rancher I've dealt with. He listens, respects my expertise, and looks at me with those beautiful hungry hazel eyes like I'm the only thing that can satisfy him. I came to Blackwater Falls to escape my mistakes, not make new ones. Professional boundaries exist for a reason. But when Tucker's calloused hands steady mine during an exam, when his rough voice goes soft talking about his daughter, I can't ignore the ache building between my thighs. And when he shows up at my clinic asking me to dinner like I'm something precious he's afraid to break, how can I resist when every fiber of my being is screaming to let this cowboy ruin me?