The Billionaire's Colton Threat

by Geri Krotow

“You don’t think it’s a teen prank, do you?” Alastair prayed Jimbo would dispute his observation, validate his hopes that it was teen mischief, nothing more. That no one was stalking Halle’s business the way they were his. Both of them being scrutinized and outright threatened sounded a little too coincidental to him. Both he and Halle, one with a multibillion-dollar industry, one with a barely solvent business that he doubted would make the Shadow Creek Fortune 50, were being targeted.

  But by whom?

  “The thing is, teens aren’t just doing beer and marijuana anymore. We’ve got a huge heroin epidemic in America, and right here in Shadow Creek, Texas. That stuff makes folks do crazy things.”

  “We have the same epidemic in the UK. It’s a global issue.” Alastair had seen firsthand how many of his corporation’s workforces had suffered as one too many employees succumbed to the addiction.

  “It’s a damned shame, is what it is. Can you believe I had to fight the Creek County Board to approve a budget for Narcan?” Alastair recognized the heroin overdose antidote that Jimbo was talking about. The heroin epidemic in Scotland was a big deal, too. “My deputies and the surrounding police departments have saved no fewer than twenty folks in the last four months with it.”

  “Sounds like you know how to get things done around here. But what would a heroin or other type of addict be able to do with a dead steer? It’s not worth anything, and they didn’t take the steer. They slaughtered it. Plus, this seems premeditated. Someone wants Halle to sell the ranch.”

  Jimbo didn’t pretend to not understand Alastair’s gauntlet.

  “Right. I hear you loud and clear, Alastair. You can bet your last kilt that I’ll get to the bottom of this and do what I can to bring the perpetrators to justice. I need you to hear me, too, buddy. Hurt Halle and you’ll have the wrath of Shadow Creek on your head. That may not sound like a lot to an international dude like yourself, but trust me, it’s not something I’d wish on my least of friends.”

  “Aye. I’ve heard you and I’ll honor your request.” Alastair held out his hand, allowing Jimbo to grasp it. He’d sealed his first deal as a married man. But could he keep it?

  The ball of razors in his gut warned him he wasn’t going to do anything but hurt Halle, and that was the last thing she needed. She’d been hurt enough, as pointed out by Jimbo. Alastair vowed in that moment to do whatever he had to make sure their relationship stayed on an even keel. So that the divorce wouldn’t sting at all. But weren’t hurt feelings and shattered dreams intrinsic to a divorce?

  Who said Halle’s feelings were the only ones at stake?

  * * *

  Halle relished the spray of the cold water onto her hands as she hosed down the front porch and steps. To her relief, the stream from the nozzle was strong enough to remove all the blood. She didn’t think she’d be up for scrubbing it on her hands and knees today. Her stomach was empty since she’d tossed her lunch, doing its unique pregnancy hunger-nausea dance. She couldn’t stop to eat or drink anything except water until this part of the day was done. Ernie deserved no less.

  She’d sent the ranch hands away for the weekend and it was the right choice fiscally. But she’d give a thousand dollars to have this all done and behind her. Better, to have it all be a nightmare she’d awaken from to find Ernie intact and crooning after the females in her neighbor’s pasture.

  Ernie had been the last remaining steer of her dad’s herd. He was a symbol to her of how rich of a gift Chancellor Ford had left her in Bluewood and the animals it provided for.

  “You haven’t changed yet?” She jumped as a deep voice rolled across the land and reverberated through her center.

  “Whoa!” The spray of the nozzle had been loud enough to cover Alastair’s steps. Her arm jerked and arced the hose over and around the porch. Alastair got hit with a blast of cold garden water.

  He blinked, eyes wide-open and incredulous.

  “I’m so sorry, Alastair!” She dropped the hose and went to him. “First our day is ruined by an awful incident and now I’ve soaked your beautiful suit.”

  “No matter. It’s just a sprinkle.” He stood implacably as if he faced water-firing squads on a regular basis. She looked past him to the sheriff’s truck.

  “Where’s Jimbo?”

  “He’s still finishing up out on the pasture, and then he’ll leave. He said to say goodbye. He’ll be in touch as soon as he knows anything. And we’re to call him at the least little sign of more trouble. He, ah, took Ernie’s remains with him. The head.”

  “I know. He had to. Whatever it takes to catch the jerks who did it.” Halle didn’t want to spend one more minute on anything so horrible. It was still their wedding day, officially.

  She eyed the water dripping down his shoulders and onto his shirt and tie. “I’d say you’re soaked. Let’s get you into dry clothes.” She froze at her words. Did they bring up the same images in Alastair’s mind? “I don’t mean like when we were camping.” Or like she’d felt in the truck only two hours earlier. Her cheeks were hot as was the rest of her, despite the fact she was still in her flimsy dress and the autumn afternoon was sliding into a chilly night.

  “No, unfortunately I know you didn’t mean it that way.” He didn’t have to elaborate. What had happened on their foray into the wilds of Texas wouldn’t be forgotten by either of them. Not when the result was going to be born in less than six months. And today’s make-out session had simply been a release of their mutual wedding jitters.

  Her shakiness as she watched him had nothing to do with the possibility that she was developing deeper feelings for her Scotsman.

  “There are fresh towels in the linen closet, where I showed you last night. Leave your suit on the guest bed and I’ll take care of getting it dry-cleaned. Your shirt and tie, too.”

  “Not necessary, Halle. Not today.” He wiped water off his face and chest. The motion of his highly capable hands on himself made her knees as weak as his kisses did. “I’d say we both could use a shower and time to relax. And get out of these clothes. Since you’re the one brewing a baby, you get going first. I’ll finish up out here.”

  She looked down at her dress, flattened and splattered with Ernie’s blood. “Yes, I suppose you’re right. I promise I won’t use up the hot water.”

  “Don’t you have a flash heater?”

  She grinned. “No, another big difference between North America and the UK. I loved the flash heaters in Glasgow. I could take as long of a hot shower as I wanted.” She referred to the gas heater that fired up on demand and kept a continuous supply of hot water. Unlike the hot water heater in her back room that had a lifespan of fifteen years, tops, and could supply no more than two full showers of fewer than twenty minutes each.

  “I’m going to take you back there, Halle, and show you a side of Scotland I daresay you didn’t see as an undergraduate.”

  “Oh, I’m sure there’s a lot to see. We were poor students and did everything on the cheap, that’s for sure.” She left him there, standing on the tired porch, holding her beat-up green garden hose, his fancy designer label suit in shambles. How far the billionaire had fallen. She grinned again, this time to herself.

  * * *

  While taking his shower, Alastair told himself repeatedly that he wasn’t going to lay a hand on Halle tonight. It wouldn’t be fair. It’d be taking advantage of her feeling less than one hundred percent. Between the whirlwind wedding, the ghastly specter that had greeted their return, and her ever-present morning sickness, she was off-limits for a roll in bed.

  As he dried himself off and stepped into jeans and tugged on a dark cashmere pullover, he reminded himself that Halle had taken everything in stride but she was more than an attractive woman. She was the mother of his unborn child and keeping her safe and feeling secure was paramount. Taking her to bed tonight would risk her waking up in the morning and ha
ting him. Regretting she’d agreed to his marriage proposal.

  She’s your wife.

  He stopped running the comb through his damp hair and looked at his hands—his trembling hands. He wanted her so badly he was all but rutting against the bathroom sink.

  Wasn’t a sex life supposed to go south after marriage? Granted, their marriage was on paper only: collateral damage from unequaled passion. He was used to moving on quickly with the women he dated, preferring to keep things as casual as possible. It never paid to get too invested in a relationship. He’d learned that with the one other woman he’d ever considered marrying, Heather, who’d dumped him for his flatmate in his early years of running the family business, before he’d helped his father and grandfather take the modest whiskey distillery into the twenty-first century and rake in billions with wise investments. Investments in North Sea oil and Asian tech comprised the bulk of it. And soon, Texas tech, he hoped.

  He opened the bathroom door and walked barefoot into the living room, where Halle lay stretched out on the sofa, her cattle dogs on the floor next to her. Millie, the blue-merle-and-white one, raised her head and yipped at Alastair as the other two warily eyed him.

  “She’s not being mean—she just wants you to be with us.”

  “I understand. We have several herding dogs on my and my parents’ properties.” He crouched next to Millie and held out his hand for her to sniff before he petted her. “I see Rhubarb’s not as impressed with me.”

  The reddish dog flicked her ears as if to say, Take a hike, buddy. The lady’s mine.

  Halle laughed and it was all he could do to keep from reaching for her and holding her face in his hands for a long, lingering kiss. A kiss that would lead to more robust activity.

  He stood up and nodded at the giant television screen that took up most of the wall at the end of the room. “I take it you watch a lot of telly?”

  Halle flicked through channels, her eyes heavy lidded. She had to be exhausted after such a full day. “No, I actually never watched television when I lived in Austin. My life was too full, too busy. If I wasn’t working in the office I was entertaining clients at night, or working at home on a project. This monstrosity is a later addition to the house by my dad.”

  “I’m sorry he wasn’t here today, Halle.”

  “I am, too. At least, I thought I was, but then he wouldn’t be very impressed with me marrying for money. But I’m doing it for the ranch, and for his grandchild.”

  Her words sliced through the air like a lasso wielded by her father would have. No, Alastair didn’t think he was good enough for Chancellor Ford’s daughter, either. Halle deserved so much more than he’d offered her. More than he was willing to give.

  “He’d understand, I’m sure.”

  “I’m not so sure, but I am grateful he wasn’t here to see Ernie’s demise. He loved that steer.”

  “Not as much as he loved you, and wanted you to be happy.”

  “Maybe.” She looked at him. “Please, have a seat. We’re in this together for the next year, right? Is there anything you’d like to watch? I’m afraid I don’t have all the sports channels that my dad carried—I cut it back to the most basic package that included internet a few months ago.”

  He could not care less about television programs. “You’ve been so dedicated to keeping the ranch going, Halle. It will turn around.”

  She sat up and he saw the pucker of her nipples through her thin, long-sleeved T-shirt. His instant erection was making his hands-off vows almost impossible.

  “I don’t want it to turn around only because you’re capable of pumping an obscene amount of money into it, Alastair. I want to turn it around because of my smart planning and because the guests fall in love with the place. I meant it when I said I wanted to have a lasting legacy for the baby. But in reality I agreed to the marriage more for him or her than for Bluewood.” She didn’t have to spell it out so bluntly. It wouldn’t have mattered who the child’s father was.

  “Hold that thought.” He was going to need something stronger than water to get through the next few hours. “Can I bring you a cup of tea, or a soda?”

  “You don’t have to wait on me. But since you asked, I’d love some more of the ginger tea that you brought. Help yourself to whatever. There are several bottles of wine I purchased before I knew I was pregnant, and you might find a bottle of my dad’s leftover Scotch in there.”

  Intrigued, Alastair went to the kitchen and scrounged around her cupboards while the tea brewed. “I’m impressed. Your father had quite the taste for Speyside whiskey.”

  “I have no idea what that means, except that he ordered his single malt from a specialty liquor store in Dallas.”

  He brought in her tea and his highball glass of a very decent Scottish whiskey, over ice.

  “It means he liked the Scotch that is brewed in that part of Scotland. There’s Highland, Speyside, the Lowlands, Campbeltown, Islands and Islay. Much like wine regions.”

  Halle accepted the warm mug of tea with her outstretched hands. “Thank you. My father always had it on the rocks, too. He even used these cold freezer cubes made of stone instead of regular ice so it wouldn’t dilute the liquor.” She said “liquor” like “licker” and all he heard was “lick her.” As in, he wanted to lick her luscious ruby lips and allow himself to sink into her sweetness.

  Alastair took a hefty swig of the single malt.

  “Iced stones have become quite popular. There are always all kinds of gimmicks with whiskey. Our gift shop at the distillery has a wide assortment of higher-end gadgets, like the stones you mentioned. But as I’ve said before, it all goes back to the original product. It either tastes good or it doesn’t.”

  “I’ve never acquired a taste for anything much stronger than a glass of merlot, but I have to admit I do adore the scent of Scotch.”

  “Mmm. Lots of folks do. You might enjoy it with honey, though that’s a bit of a sacrilege to whiskey lovers.”

  “What do you think?”

  Alastair thought he never wanted this evening to end. He and Halle, talking, at peace with one other, the day’s monstrosities off the table. He wasn’t ready to address the deeper meaning, the more basic needs he’d been missing in his life that had nothing and everything to do with his attraction to Halle.

  “I think that all the talk and theory about the ‘only’ way to do anything, be it drink whiskey or whatever, is hogwash. Life’s too short. Enjoy whiskey and anything else however you want to.” Oh God. His mind was back on its single track, the deepest groove in his brain at the moment. Enjoying Halle the way he wanted to. Naked and in bed.

  “That makes sense to me.” She sipped her tea and curled her legs under her. The childlike pose was surprisingly very adult and downright sexy. “My work colleagues, my boss, my friends, all thought I was crazy to leave my job in Austin. They said I was ‘too smart’ to come back to Shadow Creek, and that giving everything up for Bluewood was a waste.” She smoothed the blanket throw that covered her thighs. It was a normal, methodical, absentminded motion but it still made Alastair feel a distinct rush of blood straight to his crotch.

  “It was possible, I know. I could have hired out all of the work here and come home on the weekends. Had both worlds.” She leveled her amber gaze on him. “But it would have killed me, in the end. I know enough about myself by now to realize I don’t do well when I feel torn between two places.”

  Alastair’s stomach did an ugly flip, and he wanted to tell her that she’d be able to live both here and in Scotland. “I get it. When I’m out of town for more than a couple of weeks I need to get back home, recharge. Clyde Whiskey headquarters is in Glasgow, so that gives me reason enough to stay there most of the time.”

  “Don’t you have siblings or people under you who can do the traveling?”

  “More and more, yes. But
our business has only grown to this point over the last ten years, in a snowball effect. It wasn’t big enough for us to pay for all the travel early on. And then, even when we could farm out a lot of the duties, I didn’t want to. Some things are best accomplished in person, one-on-one.”

  “Sounds controlling to me.” Halle softened her criticism with a gentle smile. “Said as a recovering control freak.”

  “Touché. I don’t think you’re all that recovered, though, are you? I mean, heck, Halle, you’re sick as a dog with the pregnancy and still running every aspect of the ranch.”

  “As you did in the early years of Clyde Whiskey. I’m in the early years, for sure, as it’s been like starting over.” She stood up, stretched, sat back down. Her pajama material caught on her taut nipples and grabbed her curves in the best places. He got only a glimpse but it was enough to keep his erection in play and remind him of all the ways he desired this woman.

  “But your father had a solid business going, didn’t he?”

  “For a long while, maybe twenty or thirty years, yes. As you know, the various recessions always affected cash flow, as traveling and vacations go out the window when folks are low on funds. And he focused on family vacations that were planned months if not a year in advance, with deposits, full-service menus, a minimum of one week’s stay. I want to modernize, bring this into the twenty-first century. You know your Wi-Fi hotspot on your phone? I want that for every client. As much as the trip can be a getaway, not everyone wants that. And then there’s an entire industry devoted to travel bloggers and journalists. I’m trying to get in on that, but it’s been too expensive.”

  “Not any longer.” Satisfaction rimmed his gut along with the single malt.

  “Money is great, Alastair, and I’m not dissing it. That means ‘being disrespectful’ in American English, by the way.” She winked. “It’s about more than the dollar or pound. It’s the slow drain of clients, and the fact that the needed upgrades to date have wiped out any nest egg from my father.”

  Alastair suspected she’d gone through her entire savings, too. He understood the dedication to family legacy. More than she might yet realize.