The Colton Bride. Carla Cassidy. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Carla Cassidy
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия: Mills & Boon Romantic Suspense
Жанр произведения: Короткие любовные романы
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9781472015853
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sorry about you and Dirk,” Gray said, only because it was expected of him.

      “I’m not.” She raised her chin. “I’m just grateful he showed his true colors before I accepted his stupid proposal.” Her hand slid down her light blue sweatshirt and lingered on her stomach, her eyes darkening. “This is my baby and nobody else’s.”

      Gray’s stomach clenched with an unexpected tightness. He was surprised to discover that it bothered him more than a little bit that she carried another man’s baby. It was a stupid reaction that he refused to give weight. He was never meant to be the father of her children. Far better men than him were destined for that particular role in her life.

      What her information did do was make him recognize that this would make her a particularly desirable victim to any kidnapper with a brain...two Colton heirs for the price of one.

      “If you’re smart you’ll keep this a secret for as long as you possibly can. It puts a huge target on your back,” he said and then hurriedly added, “not that it’s any of my business.”

      He thought she saw a faint flinch etch across her pretty features. “You’re right, it isn’t any of your business,” she replied coolly, making him wonder if he’d seen the flinch or just imagined it. He couldn’t imagine that there was anything he could say to her that would actually hurt her.

      Whatever he’d thought they had together years ago had been nothing but an illusion and in the four years that he’d been back at the ranch she’d dated a variety of men befitting a Colton, confirming to him that she’d never really cared about him anyway.

      Still, when they reached the back door where she would enter and he would continue on around the mansion to the entryway for staff, he took her by the arm.

      He wanted to ask her what in hell was she thinking? There was danger all around them. This was the worst time to let people know a new Colton heir was on the way. It had only been three months since somebody had tried to kidnap the youngest Colton heir, Cheyenne, the first time. A second attempt had been made less than a month before, thankfully both unsuccessful, but the first attempt had left his best friend’s mother dead.

      At the moment, Catherine and the baby she carried lived in a crazy world, in the house that suddenly felt mad with a simmering sick energy.

      “I’m serious, Catherine. You need to be careful and you should keep your pregnancy a secret.”

      She pulled her arm from his grasp, as if unable to abide his touch. “I’ve been taking care of myself for years. I’m sure I can take care of myself now.” She didn’t wait for a response, but turned on her heels and went inside the door, leaving him only the whisper of her perfume lingering in the air.

      He muttered a curse and headed for the employee door. He’d have just enough time to head up to his Spartan room in the male staff housing area, take a quick shower and then get down to the employee dining room for dinner.

      Minutes later, he stood beneath a spray of hot water and tried to keep his thoughts away from Catherine, but it was next to impossible.

      Holding her in his arms for those brief moments had picked the scabs off scars he’d thought long healed. In the five years that he had been away from Dead River Ranch and working on a ranch in Montana, he’d occasionally dated other women. But none of them had managed to evoke in him the depth of tenderness, the wealth of desire, the overwhelming rush of love that Cath had so many years ago.

      Cath. She’d always been his Cath but since his return to the ranch she was Catherine in his heart and mind, the distinction necessary for him to forget what had been, what he knew would never be.

      In the four years since he’d been back at the ranch, as if by mutual agreement she and he had steered clear of each other, rarely speaking to one another unless it was absolutely necessary.

      She’d stopped being his problem almost nine years ago and there was no reason for anything to change now. Still, he couldn’t help the simmering anxiety that tightened in his chest as he thought of what a perfect target she would make for a kidnapping and ransom scheme.

      The crime had been attempted before with the result being the wrong child kidnapped and a beloved governess dead and the second attempt had only intensified the feeling in the house that both crimes were probably inside jobs.

      The family was a convoluted mess, with an ex-wife, illegitimate children and sundry other relatives living in the mansion while the patriarch, Jethro, battled leukemia and drifted in and out of consciousness depending on the day. His illegitimate son, Dr. Levi Colton, had come to do what he could for the man who was his father.

      He’d not only brought a bag of medical tricks with him, but also the baggage of a child who had never been acknowledged. At least in the past month Levi had found some peace and had fallen in love with pastry chef Katie McCord.

      Gray had no idea how well the staff had been vetted. Mathilda Perkins, the head housekeeper, was in charge of the hiring and firing of employees. He’d never had any reason to doubt that Mathilda did adequate background checks on the people she hired and that she had the best interests of the family at heart at all times. She’d been a devoted employee for many years.

      As he pulled on a pair of clean jeans and a denim shirt, he reminded himself that Catherine and her situation weren’t his problem. All he had to worry about was ordering supplies, overseeing the other ranch hands and keeping the horses and cattle healthy and happy.

      Catherine Colton wasn’t part of his job, nor was she a part of his life, and he definitely intended to keep it that way.

      Chapter 2

      Dinner in the Colton family dining room was always a study of pretend civility, underlying tension and slight unpleasant innuendoes. The dining table stretched from nearly one side of the plush, elegant dining room to the other and as Catherine took her seat her gaze automatically went to the empty chair at the head of the table.

      Her father had been a stern man with little time for his daughters, but Catherine loved him in spite of all his flaws and she always missed his presence at the evening meal.

      When she’d been little he’d command the conversation, talking about how he’d built Dead River Ranch to be the most prosperous ranch in the entire state of Wyoming. He loved his ranch, his money and women and he occasionally remembered that he had three little daughters who were totally dependent on him since their mother had run out on them.

      Now his chair was empty because of his illness. At the opposite end of the table was another empty chair, one that stood ready for Cole Colton, Jethro’s son who had been kidnapped as a baby thirty years ago.

      When their father had first become ill, Catherine, Gabriella and Amanda had hired a private investigator in an attempt to find their missing half brother, hoping that a reunion would buoy Jethro’s spirits and give him a reason to fight his illness. There was also a possibility that Cole could be a bone marrow donor and save Jethro’s life.

      But, while some clues had come to light, there had been nothing so far that pointed them to Jethro’s missing son. It was a thirty-year-old cold case that wasn’t going to be suddenly solved.

      Next to Catherine at the table were Gabby and her fiancé, Trevor Garth, who also served as head of security for the ranch. Amanda sat at the end of the table with six-month-old Cheyenne in a bouncy seat on the floor next to her.

      On the opposite side of the table were Levi and Katie, Jethro’s third ex-wife, Darla Colton, and her two grown children, Tawny and Trip.

      Without Jethro at the table, meals had become noisy, chaotic affairs where people talked over one another while the air shimmered with distrust. Darla, the Botox bottled-blond bitch, as the sisters referred to her, loved the sound of her own voice and if it wasn’t her doing the talking, then it was her son, Trip, who often smelled of booze or pot, depending on the day and the time.

      A headache began at Catherine’s left temple as she declined the traditional glass of wine