Colton's Deep Cover: A Romantic Suspense

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Colton's Deep Cover: A Romantic Suspense Page 2

by Elle Kennedy


  But…something about the woman didn’t sit right with him. He got the feeling there was a lot more to Amelia Phillips than met the eye, but he’d yet to figure out if she was secretive by nature or just keeping secrets.

  “Derek?”

  Amelia’s soft voice jolted him from his thoughts. He looked up to find her standing directly in front of him. A glance at the door showed that the Danfords had taken their leave.

  “Sorry. I spaced out.” He cleared his throat. “What were you talking with Rachel and Jacob about?”

  She flushed. “I offered to be at the hospital with them when Rachel goes in for the biopsy.” She quickly hurried on. “I know that striking up a friendship with a patient might be construed as unprofessional, but I feel so badly for the girl. And she and Jacob are terrified of hospitals, so I thought seeing a familiar face when she gets the procedure done might be comforting.”

  Her words brought a pang of guilt to Derek’s stomach. Damn, and a second ago he’d actually been rethinking his decision to hire this woman. That Amelia would go out of her way to ease Rachel Danford’s anxiety told him far more about her than her tendency to get skittish. He’d never met a woman with a bigger heart, and as she fidgeted awkwardly, awaiting his response, Derek had to smile.

  “That’s a really nice thought,” he said gruffly.

  Her blush deepened, drawing his attention to those smooth, ivory cheeks of hers.

  It was probably inappropriate as hell, checking out his nurse, but could anyone really blame him? Amelia Phillips was one fine-looking woman. Heartbreakingly beautiful, in fact. She had the kind of ethereal beauty that took your breath away—wide-set hazel eyes and shoulder-length blond hair that looked so soft to the touch his fingers tingled with the need to stroke it. She was average height, but next to his six-foot frame she seemed utterly petite, and she had a curvy, hourglass body that made his mouth go dry. He’d never understood why some men lusted over super-skinny women with their rib cages poking out. In Derek’s opinion, there was nothing sexier than a soft, womanly form you could fill your palms with, and Amelia had that in spades.

  He knew from her job application that she was forty-one, but she certainly didn’t look it. She could easily pass for twenty-five, and he could only imagine the looks she got when she walked down the street. That smoking-hot body of hers probably stopped traffic.

  That smoking-hot body belongs to your nurse, buddy.

  Derek quickly snapped his brain out of the gutter. Yeah, he definitely needed to quit focusing on Amelia Phillips’s centerfold assets and concentrate on other things—like the fact that she worked for him.

  “Oh, and both Stu Robertson and Maggie Carpenter canceled their appointments,” Amelia went on, oblivious to his wickedly improper thoughts, “so the rest of your afternoon is officially clear. Nancy left a note about it before she left for the day.”

  “Sawyer will be disappointed,” Derek said wryly. “He was hoping to practice his doctoring today.”

  “I’m here!”

  Speak of the devil.

  Derek’s mouth lifted in a smile as his little brother burst through the door and skidded across the small lobby area. The eleven-year-old’s head shot in the direction of the waiting room off to the left. When he found it empty, his expression collapsed.

  “Am I too late?” Sawyer demanded. “I had detention, but it only lasted fifteen minutes. I ran all the way over here.” Which explained why his cheeks held a ruddy glow and his sandy-colored hair was sticking up in every direction.

  Derek felt a rush of warmth when he glimpsed the disappointment in his brother’s eyes. Sawyer had been making a habit of coming to the clinic after school, shadowing his big brother and soaking up medical knowledge like a sponge. The kid kept going back and forth about what he wanted to be when he grew up—a doctor like Derek or a cop like their brother Tate—but lately medicine had been winning out, and Derek had to admit that he enjoyed having Sawyer around.

  “Sorry, Squirt, our last two patients canceled,” he said, ruffling Sawyer’s hair. “But you could always keep me company while I do some paperwork.”

  “Bo-ring.” Mr. Unobservant that he was, Sawyer suddenly noticed Amelia standing there. “Amelia, hi!”

  The kid launched himself at her, wrapping his gangly arms around her waist.

  Derek didn’t miss the way Amelia flinched when Sawyer hugged her or the way she didn’t return the embrace.

  Again, that flicker of wariness tugged on his gut. Amelia seemed completely ill at ease around his little brother. Around all children, in fact. She handled the younger patients the same way she did the older ones—with extreme warmth and professionalism—but Derek had noticed on numerous occasions that she didn’t seem entirely comfortable with kids.

  Sawyer, however, was more than comfortable with Amelia. For some reason, the kid had taken a real shining to the beautiful blonde. Adored her, actually.

  Trying to ease her evident discomfort, Derek tugged on the collar of Sawyer’s striped T-shirt and pinned the kid with a deadly stare. “What was that I heard about detention?”

  Sawyer raised his hands in a defensive gesture. “Don’t look at me. Danny Harris talked back to Ms. Bentley and we all got punished for it. Totally unfair if you ask me.”

  Derek’s lips twitched. “I guess that was Ms. Bentley’s way of sending the rest of you a message. A warning of what happens when you sass her.”

  “Doesn’t make it any less unfair,” Sawyer grumbled, before turning to Amelia in interest. “So what are you gonna do while Derek does his paperwork?”

  She cast Derek a quizzical look. “Well, boss, what am I going to do?”

  “You get to go home,” he answered. When she looked ready to protest, he held up his hand. “You deserve some time off. Now that you’re a permanent fixture in this practice, I plan on working you to the bone, so enjoy the break while it lasts.”

  She laughed softly. “I guess I can use the time to assemble some furniture. I ordered a bunch of things online after I moved into my place but I haven’t gotten around to any of it yet.”

  “Bo-ring,” Sawyer chimed again. He suddenly clapped a hand on his leg. “You should come to dinner tonight. We are making brownies for dessert.”

  Amelia started to edge away, her hip bumping the desk. “Oh. That’s a nice offer, but I don’t know if I can.”

  “You just said you don’t have anything to do,” Sawyer said in an accusatory tone. “So you can totally come.”

  Derek sighed. “Sawyer—”

  “Please?” his brother pleaded. “I want you to see the ranch and my horse, and did I tell you we’re making brownies?”

  Amelia smiled indulgently. “Yes, I think you mentioned that.”

  “So…please?”

  She shifted awkwardly. “I guess I could.” She glanced at Derek. “If it’s okay with your brother, that is.”

  “You’re welcome to join us,” he said gruffly.

  After a beat, she nodded. “All right. What time?”

  “Seven o’clock,” Sawyer piped up.

  “Okay. Well. I guess I’ll be there.” She took a few steps toward the corridor behind them. “I should change out of these scrubs.”

  As Amelia dashed off, Derek released a heavy breath and turned to his brother with a frown. “What did I tell you about putting people on the spot, Squirt?”

  Sawyer had the decency to blush. “I know. I’m sorry. But I really want Amelia to come to dinner. You want her to come, too, right?”

  “Sure,” he said noncommittally.

  The kid tilted his head. “So I did good, right? It could be like a date.”

  Derek faltered. “No, not like a date. Amelia and I work together, Squirt. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Is it because of Aunt Tess?”

 
; Now he froze. “What do you mean?”

  “Piper says that you’re still mourning Aunt Tess,” Sawyer said frankly. “I told her that’s silly because Aunt Tess died a long time ago.”

  Two years wasn’t a long time, he wanted to point out, but he supposed that for an eleven-year-old, two years was an eternity.

  He couldn’t believe they were even having this conversation. Nobody in the family dared bring up Tess’s name to him, and truth be told, he preferred it that way. Just thinking about his wife sent a hot rush of agony to his chest. It was funny, how he’d nagged his brother Gunnar to see a counselor in order to deal with his tragic experience in Afghanistan, yet if Derek were being honest with himself, he hadn’t fully dealt with his own tragedy.

  Tess’s death still ate at him. It gnawed at his insides like a hungry scavenger, making it impossible to move on—yes, even two long years later.

  “Because if it is about Aunt Tess,” Sawyer went on, oblivious to Derek’s silence, “I think that’s dumb.”

  His throat clogged. “Why is that dumb?”

  “Because Aunt Tess wasn’t a very good wife.”

  Out of the mouths of babes.

  “Why do you say that?” His voice was so hoarse it felt as if someone had shoved sand into his mouth.

  “Because she made you sad,” Sawyer said simply.

  An arrow of pain pierced Derek’s heart. He knew he shouldn’t be surprised by his little brother’s observation. He and Tess had been having trouble long before her death—and clearly, the rest of his family had noticed.

  Swallowing a lump of regret, Derek clapped a hand on Sawyer’s scrawny shoulder. “Let’s stop all this serious talk. What do you say I forget about my pesky paperwork and take you out for some hot chocolate instead?”

  The kid’s eyes lit up. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously. Go sit in the waiting room while I gather up my things, okay?”

  “Cool beans.”

  Sawyer bounded off just as Amelia reemerged from the corridor. She’d changed out of her green scrubs and now wore a pair of snug blue jeans that hugged her shapely legs, a tight-fitting brown sweater that brought out the amber flecks in her hazel eyes and high-heeled black boots. With her silky blond hair tied back in a ponytail, she looked young and fresh-faced and utterly gorgeous.

  “I’m heading out,” she told him as she shrugged into her black wool coat, then put on a pair of brown leather gloves. “Should I bring anything?”

  He wrinkled his brow.

  “For dinner,” she clarified. “Wine? Dessert?”

  “Nope. Just bring yourself.”

  He realized at the last second how flirty that sounded, and the blush that rose on her cheeks confirmed it.

  Derek gulped, wondering why he was so damn drawn to this woman. For the past two years he hadn’t felt a single inkling to get involved with anyone. Actually, he’d vowed to steadfastly avoid relationships altogether.

  Yet from the moment Amelia Phillips walked into his clinic, he hadn’t been able to fight the spark of desire she evoked inside him.

  “Okay. Well.” Her delicate throat worked as she visibly swallowed. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Derek bid her goodbye, then watched as she gracefully strode toward the door and exited the clinic. Everything about that woman intrigued him, from her soft, melodic voice to the shadowy secrets lurking in her hazel eyes.

  Maybe having her over for dinner tonight wasn’t such a bad idea, after all. Amelia Phillips continued to remain a mystery, and his inquisitive nature didn’t mesh well with riddles. It drove him absolutely crazy that he still couldn’t get a real handle on his beautiful new nurse. That he had no idea why her face took on that haunted expression when she thought nobody was looking. He hadn’t felt comfortable grilling her here, while they worked side by side, but perhaps she’d be more willing to open up outside the professional confines of the clinic.

  Perhaps tonight he would finally get some answers from the elusive Amelia.

  CHAPTER 2

  Chloe had never been more nervous in her entire life as she drove through the double gates of the Colton ranch. The main house was visible in the distance, a large homestead that managed to combine the stately elegance of a manor with the rustic charm of a ranch spread. It wasn’t the size or beauty of the home that made her anxious—she was no stranger to expensive accommodations—but the homey, inviting feel of it. The yellow glow seeping from the windows, the tire swing hanging from one of the trees in the front yard. It was the kind of place she’d always envisioned raising a family in, and the thought brought a sharp pain to her heart.

  Her hands trembled on the steering wheel of the used Toyota hatchback she’d purchased last week. Why on Earth had she agreed to have dinner with the Coltons tonight? When Derek had invited her to his family’s Thanksgiving dinner last week, she’d had no problem politely declining. So why had it been so hard to say no to Sawyer’s request? Why had she allowed a tow-headed kid to break down her defenses?

  The thought of Sawyer Colton deepened the ache in her chest. Lord, that kid was a real charmer, not to mention precocious, sweet and wise beyond his years. But every time he came around, which was often, she experienced a wave of longing so powerful that tears stung her eyes. She liked to imagine that her own boys would have grown up to be exactly like Sawyer.

  Focus, Chloe.

  Choking down a lump of sorrow, she continued up the driveway, but halfway to the main house another fit of anxiety rippled through her and her foot came down on the brakes. A minute. She just needed a minute to collect her composure.

  Flipping down the sun visor, she studied her reflection, inspecting her left cheek. Makeup looked good. No hint of the four-inch scar beneath it.

  Still, simply knowing the imperfection existed made her feel self-conscious as hell.

  “You think you’re so beautiful, don’t you, Chloe? Pretty, pretty Chloe.”

  A tornado of pain, fury and bitterness spiraled through her as Felix’s cruel voice echoed in her head.

  “All those men flirting with my beautiful wife. You liked it, didn’t you, pretty Chloe? You like feeling beautiful?”

  Hot tears pricked her eyelids. She tried desperately to block the memories, but they barreled into her mind like a freight train. Felix had been so enraged that night, yet again blaming her for something beyond her control.

  “Let’s see if men still find you attractive now, shall we?”

  A phantom burst of agony exploded in her face, mimicking everything she’d felt when the blade of that scalpel sliced into her cheek.

  Sucking in a ragged breath, Chloe forcibly shoved the horrific memory from her mind. She couldn’t fall apart right now. Not in her boss’s driveway, for Pete’s sake.

  Exhaling slowly, she moved the gearshift to Drive and steered toward the main house. After she’d parked the car, she grabbed her purse and the apple pie she’d picked up at the bakery in town, then climbed the large porch and rang the bell.

  Footsteps thudded. A second later the front door swung open and an attractive redhead appeared before her. Chloe instantly recognized Emma Colton, Derek’s younger sister and a field agent with the FBI. They’d met when Emma had interviewed Violet Chastain at the clinic after the actress’s attack.

  “Amelia,” Emma said, sounding genuinely happy to see her. “We’re thrilled to have you.” She opened the door wider. “Come in.”

  Chloe stepped into the spacious front hall and shrugged out of her coat. Emma took it from her, hanging it in the closet by the door.

  “I brought dessert,” Chloe said, holding out the pie dish. “Sawyer mentioned something about brownies, but I figured I’d bring something, anyway.”

  “Thanks. That was really sweet of you,” Emma answered with a smile.

  Chloe
glanced around, admiring the wood-paneled walls and pretty oil-painted landscapes hanging in the space. “You have a lovely home.”

  Emma grinned. “Technically you should be saying that to Derek. He owns the ranch now.”

  “Really? I had no idea.”

  “He doesn’t advertise it. My brother is a doctor first and a rancher second, but Mom and Dad left him the homestead in their will because Derek’s always been the most responsible Colton in the bunch.” Emma anticipated Chloe’s question before she could voice it. “Don’t worry, there’s no hidden resentment or anything—I think Gunnar and Tate were as relieved as I was that we didn’t have to take on the responsibility of this place.”

  Emma led her into the great room, which featured endless ceilings, comfortable brown leather couches and a stone fireplace. Derek’s teenage sister, Piper, sat on one of the sofas, holding a blond-haired toddler in her arms. On the floor, Derek’s

  brother Tate was sprawled on the thick rug next to a second toddler. Although the two little boys were identical, they clearly had their own distinct personalities—the one on the couch was content to sit calmly in Piper’s arms, while the terror on the floor busied himself with a set of colorful blocks, shrieking in delight each time Tate leaned over to tickle him.

  “Violet Chastain’s twins,” Emma said, noticing Chloe staring. “We’re babysitting Mason and Hudson tonight so Violet and Gunnar can have some alone time at the cabin.”

  Chloe tore her gaze from the adorable little boys, ignoring the rush of longing that filled her belly. She focused on Tate, who greeted her with a warm smile. “Hey, Amelia. Where’s Mr. Perfect?”

  She shot him a blank look.

  “Derek,” Tate clarified with a crooked grin. “You know, the perfect doctor, perfect brother, perfect everything.”

 

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