Colton Cowboy Protector

by Beth Cornelison

  He balled his fists and exhaled deeply. Who was he kidding? The kiss they’d shared last night had rocked him to his roots. He hadn’t felt a connection to a woman this strong, this pure and life changing since...since...hell, ever.

  He was in unchartered waters, and that scared the hell out of him. Because if loving Laura and having her leave him had hurt as badly as it had, how much would it cost him to lose Tracy? And how had he grown so attached to her in such a short time?

  * * *

  On the drive from the Tulsa airport back to the Lucky C, Jack revisited the idea of her moving from the main house to the old family house with him and Seth.

  She nodded, too tired to fight him on the topic any further. “I’ll move. In the morning. Tonight I just want to crawl into bed, pull the covers over my head and sleep for about twenty hours.”

  Jack reached for her hand and rubbed his thumb over her knuckles. “I know that today has been mentally and physically exhausting, but in light of what we’ve learned about who’s after you, that he’s a professional killer, I want somebody I can trust with your safety close to you at all times.”

  She massaged the growing headache in her temple with her free hand. “Don’t you trust Brett for that?”

  “Yeah, but I talked with Brett while you were in the ladies’ room at the airport. He has Seth down at the bunkhouse, and he plans to sleep down there. Apparently Abra was complaining about the noise Seth was making, and she asked him to get Seth out from under foot.”

  Abra’s attitude startled her, and she sent Jack a questioning look.

  He shrugged. “This is the woman who spent most of my childhood in Europe, leaving me to be raised by nannies and Big J. She loves her family in her own way, but she has a very low threshold for noise and energetic children.”

  Tracy had suspected as much of Abra, and she experienced another pang of sympathy for Seth. He truly lacked a maternal influence in his life.

  “If I have to,” Jack said, leveling a hard stare at her, “I’ll come in and pack you up myself. But I want you where I can protect you. Starting tonight.”

  She should have been annoyed by his high handedness, but in this case, Tracy appreciated Jack’s concern and determination. The idea of the man they called The Wolf hunting her chilled her to the marrow. If she were honest, she was more than a little nervous about staying in the large mansion. The two miles from the main house to Jack’s might as well have been one hundred. It was too far for him to reach her in time if there was trouble.

  Jack parked his truck in the circular drive in front of the main house, and together they headed in to collect her belongings. The house was quiet and dark, evidence that Abra and Big J had already headed to their rooms for the evening. Greta was still in Oklahoma City, and Edith generally kept to herself after dinner, so the church-like silence wasn’t surprising. But it did feel lonely...and somewhat eerie.

  As Tracy trudged upstairs, keeping one hand on the railing for balance and putting one foot in front of the other with effort, she was glad Jack had insisted she move to the old ranch house tonight. The mansion, for all its grandeur, didn’t have the warmth and sense of security that Jack’s house did.

  The throb of fatigue and stress that pounded in her skull turned her thoughts to the medicine bottle of Lorcet on her nightstand. Though she’d generally avoided taking the stronger painkillers Eric had prescribed, tonight she thought she might need the more powerful drug. The wound on her shoulder ached, and she was still sore from horseback riding and her tumble into the street earlier that week. But she couldn’t complain. Not only was she still alive after two attempts on her life, but she was blessed to be getting to know Laura’s son and his family. Lucky to have Jack’s protection.

  Despite the threat that hovered over her, she was free of Cliff’s brutality. Laura had paid the highest price to give her that freedom, and Tracy could never take it for granted.

  Jack placed a hand low on her back, as if he sensed she was struggling to mount the long flight of stairs. She recalled the last time they’d taken these stairs together, the way he’d swept her into his arms and cradled her to his broad chest. The memory caused a sweet quiver to race through her, and in response, Jack’s fingers pressed more firmly against her skin.

  “Tracy?”

  She gave him a quick smile. “I’m fine. Just...not used to so many stairs.”

  When they reached the guest room, Jack slid her suitcase and toiletries bag out from under the bed. He handed her the smaller bag. “I’ll start on your clothes while you pack in the bathroom.”

  She took the travel case from him and glanced to the small table beside the bed. Her novel was there, along with her hand lotion and a glass of water. But no pill bottle.

  Tracy frowned. Had she moved the Lorcet to the bathroom and forgotten? Moving into the adjoining bathroom, she set the toiletries case on the counter top and scanned the area around the sink for the painkiller. She began packing her toothpaste, makeup and skin cleansers but still didn’t find the bottle of Lorcet. She was puzzling over this when she noticed the small bag of jewelry items she’d brought with her was unzipped and had clearly been riffled.

  Scowling, she checked the contents and discovered a few of her better pieces were missing, including the two-karat diamond engagement ring Cliff had given her—no loss sentimentally but still quite valuable.

  “Jack, have you ever had an issue with Edith stealing from the family?” she asked as she returned to the bedroom.

  He raised his head from his careful work tucking her socks in the corners of the suitcase. “Edith? No. She’s like family.” He drew his eyebrows lower. “Why?”

  “Well...some of my things are missing.”

  “Missing?” His expression darkened. “Like what?”

  “Jewelry. And my Lorcet pills.” She bit her bottom lip. “I’m not accusing her, but...well, who else could have taken them?”

  He inhaled and slowly released a deep breath, stepping close to her. “I don’t know, but I promise we’ll get to the bottom of it in the morning.”

  After pressing a kiss to her forehead, he moved back to the dresser and opened the top drawer. Where she kept her panties and bras. An awkward flash of heat swamped her, and her pulse danced a nervous jig.

  Jack, too, seemed caught off guard, and he stood for a moment simply staring at the collection of colorful lace bras and plain cotton bikini undies. Not until he reached for one of the frillier bras did it register that the undergarments were in an unkempt tumble.

  “Jack,” she said, catching her breath.

  He paused with the pink bra dangling from his fingers and sent her a gaze, dark with desire.

  She had to swallow twice to work loose the tangled knot of apprehension and lust that made strange bedfellows in her throat. Talking to him while he held her delicates in his callused hand left her off balance, but...

  “My clothes...I—” she pointed at the rumpled disarray “—I always keep things folded and in neat stacks. Someone’s been rummaging in there. I’m sure of it.”

  Her first thought was that The Wolf had been in her room, searching for something or laying a trap. Planting a threat.

  Clearly that was where Jack’s thoughts went, as well, because he dropped the bra in order to conduct his own search of the drawer. After digging through the pink satin, lilac silk and white cotton garments, he turned a narrow-eyed look toward her. A muscle in his jaw twitched as he gritted his teeth and clamped his hands on her shoulders. “I assure you, whoever did this was not part of the house staff. Big J screens the help carefully, and most of them have been with the family since I was a kid. I don’t know how anyone got up here unseen, but this only confirms my decision to get you out of here. I want you in the old house. With me.”

  With me. The emphasis he placed on the last words was underscored by the blaze in his blue eyes. His intensity stirred a tremor at her core. Before she could gather a coherent reply, he dragged her closer and crushed her mouth u
nder his.

  Her body reacted instantly, a fiery yearning flooding her limbs and melting her bones. When her knees buckled, she leaned into him, clutching his arms to steady herself. Her fatigue fled as he repositioned his lips to draw more deeply on hers, tracing the line of her mouth with the tip of his tongue.

  A half whimper, half moan escaped her throat, and he answered with a hungry growl. Sliding his hands to her thighs, he lifted her so that her aching sex rode the thick ridge under his fly. In a couple of shuffling steps, he was at the edge of the guest bed. He hesitated briefly, giving her time to protest, then glancing at the door as if check to make sure it was closed.

  Whether her defenses were low after the shocks and terror she’d experienced in recent days or whether Jack’s kiss simply had her passionately mesmerized, a need burned in Tracy’s blood unlike anything she’d experienced before. She wanted Jack Colton. Needed him. Here. Now.

  She plowed her fingers into his thick, unruly hair and kissed him with a fervor that left no doubt what she wanted from him. Placing an arm across her back, he supported her as they tumbled to the mattress. She hooked her legs around his hips and gasped as he flipped up her skirt and simulated the sex act despite their clothes. The scrape of his jean-clad erection against her sensitized skin shot firebrands through her.

  Jack slipped a hand under her bottom and squeezed. His intimate touch spun tendrils of pure pleasure through her, electrifying every nerve ending. His kiss was alternately demanding, then tender. He’d nip her bottom lip, then caress the fragile skin with a soft caress of his tongue. She’d never been kissed so thoroughly, so seductively. Her head spun, and she curled her fingers into his back. She had the sense of falling, of hurtling at a gallop over a cliff, and she clung to Jack for dear life.

  When he skimmed his hand under her loosened blouse to her back, his fingertips strumming her ticklish spine, she sucked in a sharp hissing breath through her teeth. “Jack...”

  “Tracy...I promise you,” he murmured against her lips, “my intentions for taking you to my house are to protect you, not to get you into my bed.” He feathered nibbling kisses across her cheek and down her throat, pausing at the V of her collar. “If this isn’t what you want, tell me now. ” He glanced up at her with eyes hooded with desire and a bright sincerity. “I would never take advantage of you.”

  His consideration was so unlike Cliff’s merciless domination of her, she couldn’t speak for a moment. Tears prickled her eyes, and her heart swelled with affection for her cowboy protector. “Yes. I want this. I want...you.”

  Rather than fumble for the words, she raised her mouth to his and anchored his head close with a splayed hand at his nape.

  With a groan of satisfaction, Jack stroked his hand up her torso, setting her skin on fire. When he reached her bra, he dipped his fingers under the silky cup and covered her breast with his palm. She arched her back, savoring his touch and begging silently for more. His thumb flicked her nipple, while his mouth ravaged hers. While he rocked his body against hers, she groped with the buttons on his shirt, the zipper of his jeans.

  Over the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears, she heard a loud thump from the wall behind them. Jack seemed not to notice, so she dismissed the sound and fought Jack’s shirt out from his jeans. She found the hot, smooth flesh of his back and scraped her fingernails lightly over the ridges of muscle and sinew.

  More noises reached her through the wall. A female voice. Abra’s. Made sense. Abra’s master suite was the next door down from her guest room.

  Tracy tried not to let the voice distract her, but...

  Something in Abra’s voice disturbed Tracy. Although the words were indistinct, Tracy heard something in Abra’s timbre that woke old demons. A note of confusion. Of fear. The word rippled through her as if an apparition had just passed through her. When a chilling sense of premonition choked her next breath, she stiffened and pulled away from Jack’s kiss.

  He lifted his head and frowned down at her. “Tracy? What’s—”

  A shriek rent the stillness. The sound of shattering glass. Abra screamed again, louder, her voice more horrified. “No! Please, no!”

  Chapter 16

  Jack shoved off the bed in an instant, scrambling to right his clothes.

  Flashes of memory turned Tracy’s insides to liquid. She saw Cliff hovering over her with a wine bottle raised. She felt the crashing blow of the decanter, saw the crimson liquid spread around her, mixing with her blood. She smelled the sweet port...

  As Jack dashed for the door, more noises came from Abra’s suite, shuffling and crashes.

  “Mother!” Jack shouted as he disappeared into the hall.

  Tracy’s breath panted shallowly, panicked.

  Past and present tangled. Adrenaline pounded in her ears, and she battled down the surge of bile that climbed her throat.

  “Mother!” Jack’s voice rang with agitation and dark concern, jolting Tracy from her paralyzing memories. Smoothing her skirt and blouse into place, she ran to the hall where she met Big J. His bathrobe loosely tied around him and hair mussed from sleep, he lumbered from his bedroom and scrubbed a hand over his face. “What the devil is going on out here?”

  “It...it’s Abra.” She swallowed past the constriction blocking her windpipe. “Something’s happened to her. I—”

  “Call an ambulance!” Jack shouted from Abra’s room, and Tracy watched the color leak from Big J’s face.

  “Abra? What—” Big J pushed past Tracy, hurrying into his wife’s suite. “Abra!”

  Tracy sucked in a reviving breath, knowing she’d already wasted precious seconds with her private fears and hesitation. Adrenaline fueled her feet as she hurried back to her room to find her phone and, hands trembling, tapped the screen to call 911.

  Phone to her ear, she rushed to Abra’s room and gasped when she saw the destruction. Abra’s room had been violently trashed, mirrors broken, drawers emptied, furniture toppled and pillows slashed and gutted. In the midst of the chaos, Abra lay crumpled on the floor, face down, with blood pooling next to her head. Jack knelt beside her, gentling probing the wound on her head, pressing a strip of bedsheet to the gash on her scalp to staunch the flow of blood.

  The emergency operator answered, asking for the nature of her call and her location.

  “We need an ambulance. At the Colton ranch...the Lucky C...” Tracy’s voice cracked when she spoke. She racked her muddled brain for the address until Big J snatched the phone from her hand and bellowed into the phone.

  “My wife’s been attacked! She’s dying! Get someone out here. Now!” He spouted the address then demanded again that the ambulance, the police...anyone available, needed to hurry.

  Spiders of dread skittered down Tracy’s spine. Abra had been attacked. In her own bedroom. Ice filled Tracy’s veins. Was no place safe? Was there no place sacred, private, secure...

  A new horrifying thought occurred to her. Could the assailant still be there? The master suite was on the second floor, and they’d seen no one in the hallway...

  Tracy swept her gaze around the room. She searched the vast room and every shadowed corner. No one was lurking there, but the French doors to her balcony stood ajar. The sheer curtains rippled in the warm night breeze.

  Abra’s suite was next door to her guest room. Had she been the real target and The Wolf entered the wrong room? Or had Abra discovered the assassin as he made his way toward Tracy’s room and paid the price for the chance encounter?

  Tracy knew the odds that this was a random attack were low. Nausea swamped her along with the guilt of having brought this calamity on her hostess.

  “Abra!” Big J’s pained tone shot to Tracy’s core.

  She held her breath as she crossed the floor to join the men. Abra lay motionless, her head bleeding and red marks swelling where she’d clearly been savagely struck.

  “Tracy!” Jack’s grave tone tripped through her. “Wake Edith. Speed dial five. Have her call the bunkhouse and alert Brett th
at there’s an assailant on the grounds. And tell her to call Eric and have him meet us at the hospital.” He shoved his cell phone at her, and she noticed the tremble in his hand. Not that she blamed him. Her whole body shook.

  Tracy’s heart contracted with the notion that she could be the reason her hostess had been hurt.

  Big J glanced up at her. “Did you see anything? Who did this?”

  “I don’t know. I was in my room—” About to make love to Jack... A fresh wave of guilt rolled through her, and she took a shuddering breath. “I heard her talking to someone. She sounded upset. Then she screamed and—”

  “And?” Big J prompted, his face pale. He still held her cell to his ear, his grip on the phone so tight his fingers were bloodless.

  Tracy shook her head. “I don’t know.” She tried to swallow, but her mouth had grown arid. “I’m sorry. This is my fault. It must have been The Wolf...coming for me...I—”

  Jack jerked his chin up and shook his head. “Don’t blame yourself.”

  But how could she not? Every fiber of her being, her every instinct told her the attack on Abra had been intended for her.

  “A wolf? What the hell are you talking about?” Big J asked.

  “I’ll explain later,” Jack said.

  The whine of distant sirens pierced the night, and Big J turned his stormy blue eyes to Tracy. “Will you go out front to meet the ambulance? Show them up? I don’t...” He drew a shuddering breath. “I don’t want to leave Abra.”

  She gave him a tiny nod and hurried to the stairs. Meeting the EMTs was the least she could do considering her certainty that her presence at the Lucky C had brought the lethal threat of The Wolf to the ranch residents. For that, she could never forgive herself.

  * * *

  Jack held Tracy against him, absorbing her tremors as Abra was put in the waiting ambulance. She flinched as the bay doors were slammed closed. He had to admit, the attack on his mother had him rattled, too. But he couldn’t believe this was the work of a professional assassin. A pro like The Wolf would have no reason to search Tracy’s or Abra’s rooms, to steal from them and risk leaving trace evidence that would lead back to him. The Wolf would have realized quickly Abra was not Tracy and gotten away unnoticed. Wouldn’t he?