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“And I’m definitely not sorry we kissed. In fact, I’m hoping we will kiss again.”
Tanner pulled his hands from his pockets and took another step backward. She was killing him with her come-hither gaze and words of encouragement to continue the madness.
“It won’t happen again, Josie. I think we both have enough serious issues going on in our lives. We don’t need to mix in a relationship that will go nowhere and would only complicate things,” he said firmly.
He hated how quickly her smile disappeared and the gold sparkle in her eyes faded, but somebody had to inject cold, hard reality into the crazy conversation.
And the cold, hard reality was that, despite his desire for her, he had no place in his life for a young woman like Josie. She would be a mistake and he wasn’t willing to make that error again. There was no place for any woman in his life.
* * *
We hope you enjoy this dramatic series: The Coltons of Texas: Finding love and buried family secrets in the Lone Star State …
Colton Cowboy
Hideout
Carla Cassidy
CARLA CASSIDY is an award-winning, New York Times bestselling author who has written more than one hundred and twenty novels for Mills & Boon. In 1995, she won Best Silhouette Romance from RT Book Reviews for Anything for Danny. In 1998, she also won a Career Achievement Award for Best Innovative Series from RT Book Reviews. Carla believes the only thing better than curling up with a good book to read is sitting down at the computer with a good story to write.
Contents
She was definitely out of her element. Josie Colton had known that the Colton Valley Ranch just outside of Dallas in Brush Valley was a multibillion-dollar operation, but she hadn’t really processed just how well-off this branch of the family was until now.
The early July sun gleamed on the large black ornate gates with COLTON VALLEY RANCH in gold lettering just in front of her car. Beyond the gates in the distance a white, two-story mansion with one-story wings on either side sprawled across a manicured lawn with a regal grace that screamed of wealth and privilege.
For just a brief moment Josie wanted to back up, turn around and leave. She wasn’t prepared to meet these people who were family, but strangers nevertheless. After seven years in the witness protection plan, she scarcely felt ready to face her own new life of freedom.
She gripped the steering wheel tightly and remembered that all of her siblings were counting on her. She wasn’t here for a social visit; she was here to do a job and she definitely didn’t want to disappoint the family she had been reunited with so recently.
She pulled closer to the gates and noticed a speaker built into the column to her left. She rolled down her window and leaned partway out, the sun already hot despite the fact that it was only eight in the morning. Since it was Monday she hoped she’d arrived early enough that Eldridge Colton hadn’t already left the house for business purposes.
“Hello?” she called.
“May I help you?” a disembodied male voice replied.
“Hmm, I’m Josie Colton and I believe I’m expected.”
The gates opened as if by magic and Josie pulled through. She glanced in her rearview mirror to see them closing behind her.
At least there didn’t appear to be anyone following her. For the past couple of weeks more than once a creepy-crawly feeling had suffused her, making her look over her shoulder for some phantom bogeyman.
“No bogeyman,” she said firmly and shoved the thought out of her head.
When she’d spoken to her distant cousin, Eldridge Colton, the night before, she had told him exactly what she wanted and why she needed his permission to be on his land. He hadn’t hidden a touch of amusement at her request, but had agreed to allow her access to the property.
Now here she was, and despite all she’d been through in her twenty-three years of life, nerves jumped and bubbled in the pit of her stomach.
She parked in the driveway and got out of her car. A light, hot breeze sent her long dark hair flying into unruly disarray and before she rang the doorbell she reached up to smooth the strands.
She was still finger-combing her hair and gathering her nerve when the door opened to reveal a tall, thin older man. Clad in a dark suit, crisp white shirt and gray tie, he sported a gray mustache and a bald head covered with a few thin wisps of gray hair.
“Eldridge?” she ventured tentatively.
“No, ma’am, I’m Aaron Mansfield, the butler.” He opened the door wider to allow her entry. “If you’ll wait here, I’ll see if Mr. Eldridge is available to see you.”
He turned and