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JOE COLTON’S JOURNAL
There’s nothing like a big family bash at our home, Hacienda de Alegria, to make a man proud. The entire Colton clan is coming together from far and wide to celebrate my sixtieth birthday. I worry about my kids when they aren’t around, some more than others. Take my darling daughter, Sophie. I see red every time I think of anyone trying to hurt my sweet baby girl, but I’m glad she’s back where she belongs. And if it means putting some distance between her and that gold-digging fiancé of hers, even better. Now, my foster son River James is a man worthy of my daughter’s affections. Ever since I took this hard-edged rebel into my home, I’ve sensed something special brewing between those two. I don’t care what either of them say to the contrary—they belong together. Just like me and my Meredith do. But things haven’t been so rosy between us for a while now. However, I refuse to give up on her…or any of my own. Something tells me we have some rough times ahead….
About the Author
KASEY MICHAELS
is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of more than sixty books that range from contemporary to historical romance. Recipient of the Romance Writers of America RITA Award and Career Achievement Award from Romantic Times Magazine, in addition to writing for Harlequin and Silhouette, Kasey is currently writing single-title contemporary fiction for Zebra Books, and Regency historical romances for Warner Books. When asked about her work for THE COLTONS series, she said that she has rarely felt so involved in a project, one with such scope and diversity of plot and characters.
Beloved Wolf
Kasey Michaels
Meet the Coltons—
a California dynasty with a legacy of privilege and power.
Sophie Colton: The rich girl. This beautiful executive seemed to have it all—until her world was brutally shattered one dark night by a vicious act. Coming home to Prosperino, there’s only one person to whom she can turn—the renegade she’d once loved with all her adolescent soul.
River James: The brooding loner. This proud Native American had once known he was all wrong for Sophie Colton—but now his heart wanted him to believe otherwise….
Joe Colton: The honorable family patriarch. On the eve of his sixtieth birthday, this savvy tycoon sensed something was amiss…something that could threaten the very essence of the Colton dynasty!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
One
N othing, absolutely nothing, had gone right for Sophie Colton that entire early-April San Francisco day.
The new telephone system touted by her advertising agency boss to make everyone’s life easier had lost her a hard-won connection with a client in Tokyo—twice—and had probably cost her an important account.
The child star who had just been signed for a national commercial had picked this week to have his voice go from angelically pure to crackly pubescent, and would have to be replaced.
She’d gotten a run in her panty hose on the way to lunch with a client, been caught in a quick shower the weather forecasters had missed, and now she’d had an argument over dinner with Chet Wallace, her fiancé since this past Christmas.
Okay. Maybe not an argument. Maybe that was too strong a word. A disagreement. She and Chet never argued. Mostly he talked and Sophie listened. Sometimes she wondered why she listened.
Chet wanted to leave their cushy jobs at the San Francisco advertising agency and strike out on their own, form their own company. Sophie wasn’t so sure. She liked her job, had worked hard to get it, and in this cutthroat world, starting a marriage and a new business at the same time…well, it scared her.
At least that was what she tried to tell herself as she walked home in the dark after throwing a mini-tantrum at the restaurant and leaving Chet to finish dessert and pay the check on his own.
Maybe what really bothered her was that Chet had done just that. He’d stayed behind, sipping coffee and eating his chocolate mousse, and let her go. Granted, she lived only four blocks from the restaurant, but did he have to be so blasé about it? Tell her to take a walk, cool down, and he’d meet her at her apartment in thirty minutes? She hated Chet when he was reasonable. Didn’t he know that?
Sophie stopped at the curb of an alleyway situated halfway down a long city block. She lifted her head, sighed and pushed at her chin-length golden brown hair, tucking a naturally blond-streaked lock behind her ear. She blinked her huge brown eyes that were so like her mother’s, sighed again and stepped off the curb, one long straight leg in its three-inch heel making contact with the macadam…before she was suddenly being pushed, shoved back into the alleyway.
“Hey!” she called out loudly, trying to disengage herself from the arms that held her. She was pushed against a dew-slick brick wall so hard that anything else she might have said was lost. The side of her head slammed against the bricks, and seemingly all the air in her lungs whooshed out of her body.
It was unreal. Surreal. Couldn’t be happening. Certainly couldn’t be happening to her.
But it was. As she fought to stay conscious, as she struggled to breathe, to beat down the panic that rose like bile in her throat, Sophie felt the tip of a knife press against her throat.
“Move, bitch, and I’ll cut you. You got that?”
She couldn’t nod. She’d be cut if she moved. So she blinked. Yes, that blink said silently. I’ve got that.
“Okay. Okay-okay-okay,” the male voice said. Her attacker was obviously very excited, possibly high on drugs. Sophie didn’t know, couldn’t be sure. She just knew the man was nervous, hyper, definitely out of control. He might kill her even as he said he wouldn’t.
The knife eased away from her throat, and the next thing Sophie knew she was facedown on the hard gravel in the alleyway, her right knee exploding in agony as it took the brunt of her fall.
Sophie closed her eyes against the white-hot pain and swallowed. “What—what do you want?” she managed to ask, still unable to move, for the man’s knee pressed hard against her back. “I don’t have a purse, but there’s a wallet in my coat pocket. Money. Credit cards. Let—let me get it for you.”
“Don’t listen, do you, bitch? Huh, huh?” the man growled against her ear, his putrid breath and body odor turning her stomach. “Move and die, bitch, move and die.”
Then his hands were on her, touching her through her light coat, for the evening had been warm, and