The Temptation of Dr. Colton

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The Temptation of Dr. Colton Page 11

by Karen Whiddon


  Eric gazed at her a moment longer before he started the engine. MW resisted the urge to squirm, glad he couldn’t read her mind, even as her cheeks once again heated. And then they were off.

  After they went through the rest of downtown, Eric picked up Route 75 and headed northeast.

  “Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” she finally asked. Now that they’d left the city and suburbs behind, the northeastern Oklahoma countryside looked surprisingly beautiful. Though much of her past remained a huge blank, MW felt it was safe to say she’d never visited this part of the country before.

  He glanced over at her and then squeezed her shoulder. She wanted to lean into his side and take more of the comfort he offered, but glad of the seat belt, she didn’t, aware nothing good could come of such a thing. She felt his touch through the lightweight material of her T-shirt, and swallowed hard, wondering how such a small thing could make her dizzy with desire.

  “I wondered when you were going to ask,” he said, leaving his hand for another second before returning it to the steering wheel. “I’m taking you to stay at my family’s ranch.”

  She stared at him, not registering his words at first. When his meaning sank in, she couldn’t conceal her shock. “Why? I mean, it’s enough that you were kind and took me in so I wasn’t out living on the streets. But someone wants to kill me. Bringing me around your family could also endanger them.”

  Eric only shook his head, his confident expression telling her he didn’t put much stock in her fears. “The Lucky C is really remote. We have 4,250 acres. Believe me, no one will be able to find you there.”

  Instantly, tears welled in her eyes. “Are you sure you want to do that? Because of me, you almost died. And Greta could have been hurt as well. If you take me around the rest of your family, you’ll be putting all of them at risk.”

  He smiled. “You don’t know my family. Once I tell them what’s going on, there’s no way any strangers are getting anywhere near the Lucky C.”

  Still she persisted. “What if they do? Then what?”

  “They won’t. Don’t worry. You’ll be safe there.”

  Since he sounded so certain, she decided to believe him and dropped the subject.

  Finally they left the interstate for a paved two-lane road. Ahead of them, the gently sloping plains seemed to stretch out for miles of warm gold and green.

  “It’s lovely,” she said, wondering why the rolling hills and deep blue sky brought her such peace.

  “We’re almost there. The ranch is a beautiful place,” Eric told her, smiling again. “It’s a mix of flatlands and hills. We raise Hereford cattle. Ranching is something my family has always done. My father’s father, him, and now my oldest brother, Jack.”

  The pride in his voice made her smile again. “You love it, don’t you?”

  He nodded, his eyes glowing. “I do. I can’t live here, the lifestyle is not for me, but this is where I grew up. It’s amazing.”

  After driving down a long, winding drive, they pulled up to black wrought iron gates flanked by a stone wall that seemed to stretch for miles. A large metal C decorated the middle of each gate.

  “This is it.” He rolled down his window and punched a code in to the metal control box. A moment later, the gates began to swing open.

  “Wow.” After they pulled through, she turned back to watch as the gates closed behind them. “Pretty nice.”

  “Just wait.” His boyish smile softened the hard planes of his face. Again, she was struck dumb by the sheer masculine beauty of him. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

  Chest tight, she smiled back, hoping he couldn’t tell how he affected her.

  A huge building loomed in the distance. As they drew closer, she saw that it was a two-story house. A huge two-story house. All angles, with vaguely European architecture and tons of windows.

  She couldn’t believe what she was seeing. “This is a ranch house?” she asked, incredulous. “It looks more like something I’d see in the Hollywood Hills.”

  He laughed, but she wasn’t kidding. The house had to be at least ten thousand square feet, probably more. She found herself wondering when she’d been to Hollywood.

  “My father had this place built for my mother. The old house was the original homestead. It’s located two miles south of this one.”

  “Gorgeous,” she marveled. “I love the way it fits in with the landscape.”

  “That’s because the outside is made of native Oklahoma stone.”

  Again she had to smile at the pride ringing in his voice. “How big is it?”

  “It’s roughly eleven thousand square feet, with seven bedrooms and 7.5 bathrooms.”

  She gasped. “You could fit ten of my apartments in there.” It dawned on her that she’d remembered something.

  Eric grinned, apparently realizing that as well. “So you lived in an apartment somewhere.”

  Frowning, she tried to remember. “In a city. A good-size one.”

  “Do you remember which city?”

  Just like that, the wisp of memory dissipated. “No.” She let her regret show in her voice. “I’m sorry, I don’t.”

  “No worries. It’ll come in time.”

  She’d started out believing him. But the longer she went without a solid memory, the more she began to wonder if she’d ever remember. “Tell me more about the house,” she said, needing the distraction.

  “Dad situated it on the highest point of our land, so we have unlimited views in all directions. He even put in a full basement, so we have a built-in tornado shelter.”

  “Tornado?” At the thought, she shivered. “I forgot Oklahoma is in Tornado Alley.”

  “No one here ever forgets that. Every spring and most falls, we are forcibly reminded.”

  “I’m glad you have a safe place to hide.” Staring at the mansion, she shook her head. “I can’t imagine growing up in a house like that.”

  “There are a lot of us, so we needed the room.” He parked. “There’s a pool out back, too. Let me tell you, we kids made use of that every summer growing up.”

  She tried to search her memory to see if she’d ever experienced anything like that, and realized with a degree of shock that she hadn’t. “I grew up in the city,” she said slowly. “Whatever city my apartment is located in. We didn’t have a lot of room, but there was love.”

  Expression incredulous, he stared at her. “You remember?”

  Stunned, she stared back. “I do.” Bemused, she considered. “Not everything. But when you were talking about your childhood, that came to me in a flash. I don’t remember where, or where my mom and dad are now. But that’s something, right? More than I’ve been able to remember in days.”

  His encouraging smile struck her as unconsciously sexy. Damn. She felt warm all over and barely resisted fanning herself, aware he wouldn’t understand or worse, if he did, he’d be appalled. Clearly, he had no idea of his appeal.

  Parking the rental car, he turned to look at her. Something in his expression told her he might just be as nervous as she was.

  “Are you ready to go in?” he asked. She caught herself swaying toward him, compelled by the most powerful urge to kiss him. And not a tentative movement of her lips on his either, but the slow and deep kiss of a confident woman who knew what she wanted.

  Him. She wanted him.

  Stunned, she turned away and reached sightlessly for the door handle. How could she, with no memory of her past, of her likes and dislikes, her passions or pleasures, find this man so utterly fascinating?

  She barely knew him. Since she didn’t understand the reasoning, she figured it had to be a physical thing only. After all, Dr. Eric Colton was a fine masculine specimen. Handsome and virile, confident and kind. Exactly the kind of man any woman would want. And the kind of m
an who didn’t look twice at a women like her.

  Which made her wonder why he’d decided to protect her himself.

  MW considered herself a realist. She had access to mirrors and was well aware she wasn’t a conventional beauty. Not the model sort at all, with her curves and the few extra pounds sampling her own cooking had clearly put on her frame.

  As her memories seeped in, she knew she’d been both capable and confident, with an optimistic and outgoing personality.

  What?

  Another realization, another snippet of truth from her past life.

  Now completely out of the car, she faced the house, still lost in thought. Had there been a man in her past, someone she’d cared for but who had let her down?

  And was that man named Walter, the name Eric said she’d called out after the car had hit her?

  Chapter 8

  Mildly apprehensive, Eric got out of the Tahoe and hurried around to help MW. Judging from the quick and nervous smile she flashed, she needed reassurance.

  He figured she didn’t need to know how long it had been since he’d set foot on Colton land.

  “You’ll be fine,” he said. “I promise you, they don’t bite.”

  At his teasing tone, some of the tension went out of her shoulders. “You’re right. I’m being foolish.” Though she managed a smile, uncertainty still lurked in her pale blue eyes.

  Again, he fought the urge to reach for her and offer comfort. But then he realized there was no harm in offering reassurance, so he snagged her arm and pulled her up against him. Damn if he didn’t like the way she felt.

  Just as he’d begun considering taking it a step further with a kiss, the front door swung open.

  “Eric!”

  Edith. Keeping a casual arm draped around MW, he turned to face the family’s long-term housekeeper and oftentimes mother figure.

  “I can’t believe it’s you,” Edith said, beaming as she hurried down the marble front steps. As usual, she wore her silver-gray hair in a tight bun.

  He kept MW close as Edith reached them, letting the older woman pull them both in for a fierce hug.

  “You’re home,” Edith’s voice shook. Eric saw, to his shock, the tears glistening in her gray eyes. “It’s been far too long.”

  Resisting the urge to hang his head, Eric nodded instead. “It has been. I’m sorry for that. But this time, I plan to stay awhile.”

  His words appeared to temporarily mollify her. Edith wiped at her eyes, and then fixed her attention on MW. “And who do we have here?”

  Eric performed the introductions, keeping his tone casual. “MW, meet Edith Turner. She’s been with our family since I was thirteen. Edith, this is MW.”

  If any of Eric’s siblings had filled the housekeeper in on MW’s story, Edith didn’t reveal it. Instead, she hugged MW again, a full-fledged hug this time. “I’m so glad to finally meet any woman Eric has chosen to bring home,” she said.

  As MW’s creamy skin flamed red, Eric understood what Edith apparently thought. He was about to correct her misconception, but one look at the panic in MW’s gaze and he changed his mind. For right now, it’d be easier if people thought he and MW were together. At least until her memory returned.

  Plus, he had to admit part of him really wanted Edith’s assumption to become truth. Sort of. At least for a little while.

  Then, because he knew MW would be horrified if she knew his thoughts, he focused his attention back on Edith.

  “Your father will be so happy to see you,” Edith said, still beaming. “Unfortunately, he and Jack are working in the north pastures today. Brett and Daniel are with him.”

  “Which means Seth...”

  “Is helping the men.” Edith checked her stylish watch. “He loves to help his daddy and Pa Pa.”

  “Did he finally graduate from Pooh Bear?” The little cream-and-tan pony had been Seth’s first steed and was the perfect size for a five-year-old, even one with long legs.

  “No. Seth’s riding on Jack’s horse with him. His daddy wanted him to spend an hour or so rounding up cattle. He should be bringing him back anytime now.”

  Scanning the horizon for a sign of his brother, Eric nodded. “A young boy with a short attention span won’t be conducive to getting a lot of work done.” Nonetheless, Eric remembered when his father, Big J, had done the same with him. And all the rest of the siblings. They’d learned to ride when they could barely walk. Even now, when he had been away from the saddle for years, Eric knew he remained a skilled horseman.

  “Come on inside.” Edith took MW’s arm and led her up the front staircase, trusting Eric would follow. “Don’t be intimidated by this fancy place. Though it looks all la-ti-da on the outside, the Coltons are just a bunch of regular people.”

  MW smiled shyly. “That’s good to know.”

  Once inside, Eric saw the place hadn’t changed one bit since he’d last visited. Same old two-story, open foyer with marble floors. The grand fireplace, the Venetian plaster walls. White and sparsely finished, the living room served one purpose only—to make a statement. No one ever used it. He’d often thought it would be better served if they’d take out the fancy furniture, put in a wet bar and pool table and turn it into a game room. But he knew his mother would never go for that.

  “This way,” Edith said, noticing MW’s hesitation. “The faster you walk through the stuffiness, the better.”

  One corner of her mouth curling in amusement, MW shot Eric a look.

  “She speaks the truth,” he said, grinning. “My mother set up that front room as a showpiece. We all avoid it whenever possible.”

  “But it’s such a lovely fireplace.” MW cast a look over her shoulder. “I bet that’s wonderful in the winter.”

  “We have another in the family room.”

  The kitchen and the family room were much warmer, the leather couches clearly lived-in.

  “Upstairs are five bedrooms, each with their own baths,” Eric told MW. “There are seven bedrooms total, and seven baths. All of us kids had our own rooms growing up. Now, Brett’s the only one left still here.”

  “Not for long,” Edith pointed out. “Once Hannah and Brett get married, they’re planning to move into that new house they’ve started building.”

  “True. But the two of them are still the only ones living here in this gigantic house with Mom and Dad.”

  “And the on-call nurse,” Edith pointed out, her voice matter-of-fact. “She’s been given one of the guest rooms near your mother.”

  And just like that, the mood went somber. MW looked uncertain, shifting her weight from one leg to the other.

  “Are we staying here?”

  Though he was about to say yes, Eric reconsidered. “I’m thinking we might stay at the old house. I think it’ll be a lot easier.”

  Edith pursed her lips, looking as if she’d tasted something sour. “I thought you said you were here to visit,” she pointed out. “This is where the family comes together for meals, you know that. Your father will be terribly disappointed if you stay at the old house.”

  Privately, Eric doubted that. The old house—the original homestead—was located two miles south of the main house. It was a five-thousand-square-foot, ranch-style home built of wood and hand-carved stone. Eric had always loved the place. After the main house had been built, the old house had been used mainly for ranch meetings and the occasional guest. Eric thought longingly of the comfy furnishings and the way the numerous windows always let in a lot of light.

  MW touched his arm, bringing him out of his thoughts. “We should stay here,” she said softly. “I don’t mind.”

  “I like her,” Edith announced, before Eric had a chance to answer. “Now let me get you two some snacks and a drink.” She headed toward the kitchen without waiting for a response.
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  Eric shook his head. “Well, I guess that’s a done deal then.”

  “I’m sorry.” Looking stricken, MW moved closer. “If staying here makes you uncomfortable, of course we’ll stay at the other house. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

  “I’m glad you did.” This close, if he bent his head he could inhale the scent of her shampoo. He felt unable to resist the temptation.

  “You are?” She raised her face to look at him, catching him in the act. He didn’t care, though, because now all he could think about was how badly he wanted to kiss her perfect rosebud mouth.

  Heat suffused him. But before he could give in to temptation, Edith bustled back into the room with a tray full of goodies and interrupted him.

  “Here you go,” she announced, setting the tray in the center of the coffee table. “I didn’t know what you might be in the mood for, so I’ve got a little of everything. Cookies, fruits and vegetables, even chips and dip.”

  The whole family had always admired the way Edith could whip up a tray of snacks and make it look like they been delivered by a high-end caterer.

  “Wow.” MW’s eyes were wide. “That looks absolutely fantastic.”

  Edith beamed, clearly pleased at the compliment. “Just a minute,” she said. “I’ll bring you something to drink. Would you like iced tea, lemonade or water?”

  He noticed she didn’t offer anything carbonated, which might mean she’d finally been successful in banishing all soda pop from the main house.

  “Water, please,” MW said.

  “I’d love tea,” Eric responded. “Unsweetened.”

  “I know that.” Edith’s frown made Eric want to laugh. It was the exact same, highly dramatic expression she’d used when he’d been an unruly teen and she’d chastised him for something. “I’ve been making your iced tea ever since you were thirteen,” she reminded. “I didn’t think you’d change the way you drink it just because you went to live in the city.”

  Before he could reply, she sailed out of the room, head held high.

 

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