âI didnât bring you to the ranch so I could seduce you. I asked you to stay here so I could take care of you and the baby, not take advantage of you.â
âThatâs a shame,â Hannah whispered.
Brett wanted her in a bad, bad way.
She sauntered toward himâa seductress intent on the object of her desire.
âAre your dangerously out-of-control hormones going to keep testing my resolve for the rest of your pregnancy?â Heâd meant it as a jest, but his voice was still thick with need.
âProbably. But if youâre expecting an apology, youâre going to be disappointed.â
âLetâs get out of here.â
They strolled to the grand staircase. âHowâs it going to feel like a proper date if you donât kiss me good-night?â she asked in a quiet purr of a voice as they mounted the stairs.
Oh, man, she wasnât making this easy on him. âYour hormones again?â
A mischievous grin graced her lips. âNo. That was all me.â
âHannah, I donât think getting physically involved with each other is the best plan.â
âItâs not the worst plan, either.â
***
Be sure to check out the next books in The Coltons of Oklahoma series. The Coltons of Oklahoma: Family secrets always find a way to resurface ⦠w
Chapter 1
In Brett Coltonâs ears, in his mind, the shrill keening of tornado sirens eclipsed all other sound, despite that he and Outlaw were too far into the backcountry for the sirens to be more than a figment of his imaginationâhis intuition warning him that this mission was a really stupid plan because there were a hundred ways to die in a storm this angry.
There was no fury in hell or on earth that compared to an Oklahoma thunderstorm when it decided to unleash a twister. The clouds above Tulsa churned, glowing gray green. Golf-ball-sized hail pelted Brettâs Stetson and the back of his oiled leather duster. He folded forward, shielding Outlawâs neck and mane from the brunt of the hailâs force as best he could, though neither man nor steed were strangers to the elements.
One of these days, Brettâs guardian angels would give him up as a lost cause, but, God willing, it wasnât going to be today. Not with so much on the line. Not after everything his family had been through in the past month or the sharp edge of disappointment in his fatherâs and brotherâs eyes when Brett had broken it to them about the downed fence and the missing cattle. As if Brett had let the herd loose on purpose. As if he was still the same reckless punk heâd been four months ago.
Then again, maybe Brett hadnât completely vanquished the recklessness from his blood, because here he was, racing across the rolling plains of the Lucky C ranchâs backcountry, straight toward the deadly funnel forming in the distance. Any minute, a flash flood might come rocketing through, if lightning or a twister didnât hit down first, but he refused to return to the Lucky C homestead without the half dozen pregnant cows that had escaped.
The downed fence was a mystery that Brett would have to contemplate later. Heâd checked that line himself the week before. All he knew was that the ranch that heâd once thought of as a fortress was no longer an impenetrable haven for his family, and the decades of peace and prosperity that the Coltons had enjoyed had been shattered beyond repair.
Brett had followed the tracks of the six stampeding cows southwest, keeping them in sight through the rain and the darkening sky, right up until the clouds had let loose with hail. With zero visibility and the cowsâ hoofprints lost in the churned-up ground and melting balls of ice, he was riding with nothing to guide him but the hunch that the cows had headed toward Vulture Ridge, as the stock on the ranch had done so many times over the years. As long as theyâd had enough sense to stop at the ridge instead of going over the edgeâLord, please donât let them have gone over the edgeâBrett would find a way to get them back to the Lucky C before the twister touched down.
Outlaw expertly cut around scrub trees and boulders without losing speed until Vulture Ridge came into view.
âGotcha,â Brett said, though his words were lost in a crash of thunder.