Colton Cowboy Protector
A Dangerous Assassin… Tracy McCain came to Colton ranch to meet her cousin’s son… but she didn’t expect Jack Colton, the boy’s father, to be so suspicious. Nor did she realise that an enemy had followed her, determined to keep her from getting too close to the Coltons.When Tracy is attacked, Jack realises the only way to protect her is to keep her under his roof. But sharing a home with the brave beauty introduces new temptations. And, as danger approaches, Jack knows he must keep Tracy and his son safe… so they can become a new family.
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Tracy swallowed audibly.She wasnât going to lie to him.
Especially since sheâd so obviously enjoyed his kiss. And because she desperately wanted his trust.
âI didn't want my purpose for being here, my wish to know Seth, to get tangled up in what I was feeling toward you.â
âAnd I didn't want my desire for you to cloud my judgment of your purpose. But you showed me todayââ he whispered as he trailed kisses along the line of her jaw and throat ââthat you have an incredible core of strength. No matter how fragile ⦠your appearance, you proved ⦠you are no pushover.â
Though his compliment warmed her heart, her gut tightened. She squeezed her eyes closed, feeling like a fraud. âI didnât feel strong,â she admitted. âI felt horribly vulnerable.â She tightened her grip around his shoulders as the chilling horror of those moments washed through her again. She buried her head under his chin, her ear pressed to his breastbone and shivered. âI did what I had to to protect Seth, but ⦠I was scared to death.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 â¦
BETH CORNELISON started writing stories as a child when she penned a tale about the adventures of her cat, Ajax. A Georgia native, she received her bachelorâs degree in public relations from the University of Georgia. After working in public relations for a little more than a year, she moved with her husband to Louisiana, where she decided to pursue her love of writing fiction.
Since that first time, Beth has written many more stories of adventure and romantic suspense and has won numerous honors for her work, including a coveted Golden Heart Award in romantic suspense from Romance Writers of America. She is active on the board of directors for the North Louisiana Storytellers and Authors of Romance (NOLA STARS) and loves reading, traveling, Peanutsâ Snoopy and spending downtime with her family.
She writes from her home in Louisiana, where she lives with her husband, one son and two cats who think they are people. Beth loves to hear from her readers. You can write to her at PO Box 5418, Bossier City, LA 71171, USA, or visit her website, bethcornelison.com.
To my family, the whole loving, supportive, often goofy bunch of you!
Thank you to Deborah Boyd, who won the chance to have her kitty Oh La La Sleek (Sleekie) memorialized in this book through the Brenda Novak Auction for the Cure.
Contents
The man reminded her of a wolf. His pale eyes held a feral quality, his heavily graying black hair was shaggy and thick, and his thin, sloped nose brought to mind a canine muzzle. She shivered as he slid into the front seat next to her, but his wild appearance boded well. She needed him to be the deadly predator he resembled. The two-faced mouse that had ruined her life and stolen her child from her needed to pay.
Theyâd parked in the farthest corner of the parking lot outside the range of the security cameras. She knew the spot was safe, because sheâd checked the surveillance tapes herself. As it was after hours, few cars were left in the lot, and darkness added another layer of cover.
She slid the wolf man a file and gave him a hard stare. âI hired you because I was told youâre the best. Naturally, discretion is of utmost importance. This canât be traced back to me or my husband.â
âNaturally,â he deadpanned. He reached into his front shirt pocket and pulled out a pack of cigarettes. Tapping one out, he flicked a silver lighter and lit his smoke. The tip glowed red like an evil eye in the dark.
She balled her hands in her lap, watching him uneasily as he flipped through the file. âIâll want proof when the job is complete.â
Blowing smoke after her, he sent her a snide look, as if her request was beneath him. âIâll finish the job.â
âBe sure you do. You donât get the last of your fee until I know that sheâs paid for what she did to my son.â
He slapped the file shut and curled his lip in a sneer that revealed a lupine-like incisor. âOh, sheâll pay. Your son was my friend, my partner in a deal that went south when he died. I lost a small fortune. This job is personal. I wonât rest until his death is avenged and that backstabbing bitch is dead.â
âIn one hundred feet, turn right onto access road,â the stilted voice of the rental carâs GPS intoned.
With a deep breath for courage, Tracy McCain signaled the turn. She noted with interest that the car ahead of her on the isolated stretch of rural Oklahoma highway also made a right onto the side road leading to the sprawling ranch of cattleman John âBig Jâ Colton.
