The Colton Bodyguard

by Carla Cassidy

  Will the real Tyler Stanton please stand up? she thought as she scooted out of bed. She grabbed a pair of jeans, a blue flannel shirt and clean underwear for the day, intending to spend most of the daylight hours in the corral with Sugar.

  Minutes later as she stood beneath a hot shower spray, she couldn’t help but think of being in Tyler’s arms, of his kisses and caresses, which had formed such an intense fire inside her, a fire she’d never felt before.

  They fit together perfectly in the bed, but she had no idea how well they’d fit together out of bed. Things had happened so fast. Everything had been pleasant between them so far, but it was early in the game and she really had no idea what to expect in day-to-day life with him.

  “You’ll find out soon enough,” she muttered as she stepped out of the shower and grabbed a fluffy fresh-smelling towel from a cabinet.

  At least Tyler would be at work today and she would be able to focus her sole attention on the horse renamed Sugar. To Greta there was almost nothing worse than somebody who abused a helpless animal, unless it was somebody who took the life of an innocent human being.

  Once she’d dried off and dressed, she stared at her reflection in the mirror and thought of the twin sister she’d never met.

  It was obvious from the fact that Abra had thought it was Greta who’d attacked her, and that Daniel had believed he’d seen Greta at the ranch when in reality she’d been in Oklahoma City, that her sister was an identical twin.

  Greta had seen heartwarming shows on television about the reunion of separated twins. The reunions always resulted in joy and love and new extended families. Why hadn’t that happened for her? She would have welcomed her twin sister into her life, enjoyed the friendship and love of somebody she’d shared a womb with through nine months.

  She didn’t even know her twin’s name or much of anything about their biological mother. All Big J had been able to tell them was the woman’s name was Tamara Stewart and that she had sold him the baby. He’d met her only once, in a small house someplace on the west side of Tulsa near the hospital.

  He hadn’t been able to remember the address or the specific neighborhood of the house. He hadn’t even remembered that much about the woman. He either hadn’t paid attention or had forgotten the details from that day so long ago. All he knew was that he’d been so desperate to replace the baby Abra had lost that that was all he’d really cared about. He hadn’t wanted Abra to suffer the grief of finding out that her baby girl had died.

  Greta knew her brother Ryan was investigating and attempting to locate Tamara in an effort to get a handle on her daughter, who had become a threat to both Greta and her adopted family.

  She turned away from the mirror and tried to clear her mind. There was nothing she could do about her twin sister. She needed to focus on greeting Tyler this morning and letting him know that from now on, there was going to be no more physical interaction between them.

  She had to be strong and not allow his smooth talk, his gorgeous blue eyes or his sexy smile to change her mind. She was here to do a job, and if in the process they got to know and like each other, it would be a bonus. But she wasn’t going to be persuaded to sneak into his room for a bout of mind-blowing lovemaking again.

  Feeling strong and looking forward to the day of work with the horse, she left the bathroom and headed for the kitchen. She found Tyler seated at the kitchen table, a newspaper folded and laid to the side of him and a cup of coffee before him.

  Clad in a navy business suit, a white shirt and a navy-and-silver-striped tie, he looked like the man she’d been accustomed to seeing on the rare times they had run into each other when she’d been with Mark.

  The only difference was the warm smile that lit his handsome features when she walked into the room. “Coffee is made, but you’re on your own for breakfast this morning.”

  “That’s fine,” she replied. She poured herself a cup of coffee and joined him at the table. “I suddenly feel terribly underdressed for coffee.”

  “You look gorgeous in denim and flannel,” he replied.

  “And you look handsome in your power clothes. I know you’re probably ready to head into work, but before you go, I need to talk to you for just a minute.”

  “I’ve got something to discuss with you, too. But you go first,” he said.

  She raised her chin and looked into the depths of his eyes. “I am not going to sleep with you again.”

  His lips rose in a rueful smile. “You haven’t slept with me yet.”

  She huffed out a sigh of frustration. “You know what I mean. I’m here to train your horse and that’s it. I’m not going to be your nightly toy to play with at will. If you want me again, then we have to get to know each other first.”

  He looked at her in obvious amusement. “So you want me to court you.”

  She eyed him with a narrowed gaze. “Are you making fun of me?”

  He laughed. “Not at all. I’m just trying to get clear on what you want or what you need from me.”

  “I’m not arguing that there isn’t some sort of crazy physical attraction between us, but I won’t settle for that. We don’t really know each other. I want to get to know you out of bed, and I want you to get to know me that way, too.”

  He sobered and nodded. “As much as I’d love for you to be my bedtime toy every night, I respect your wishes. I’d like to get to know you better. That’s part of what I wanted when I first saw you so many months ago.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and set the cup back down. “Greta, I understand that we rushed into things fast and furious and you want it to slow down. I can be slow and patient.” His eyes twinkled. “I promise I won’t try to cajole you into my bed again. I’ll wait until you ask me to make love to you again.”

  “You sound sure that I will,” she replied.

  “That’s hope you hear in my voice.” The twinkle in his eyes disappeared and he picked up the folded newspaper next to him. “And on a much less pleasant note, the issue I wanted to talk to you about is this...” He opened the newspaper to a prefolded page and shoved it across the table in front of her.

  Greta looked down in horror at the photo of her and Tyler kissing by the side of her Jeep. The caption read Cattle Princess Jilts One Brother for Another.

  Chapter 5

  It was after nine when Tyler finally left the house and Greta headed out toward the small corral. Tyler had suggested that it was probably Mark who had taken the picture and given it to the newspaper. The accompanying story had been tawdry and filled with misinformation and salacious half facts.

  Tyler had tried to calm Greta down, but she’d been both furious and embarrassed. She knew her father had a subscription to the Oklahoma City paper. How was she supposed to explain all this to him...to the rest of the family?

  She breathed in the fresh morning air as she walked briskly to the corral, telling herself that the article and photo didn’t really matter. But she was surprised to find herself hurt by Mark’s betrayal, if, indeed, he was responsible for the picture and the column of gossip.

  When she reached the corral, she remained outside the wooden enclosure. There was no way she could go in and begin to introduce herself to Sugar until she relaxed herself. The horse would immediately pick up on any anger or anxiety Greta carried with her, and at the moment Greta had both bubbling hot inside her.

  A short dark-haired man came out of the barn to greet her. He introduced himself as Raymond Edwards. “Yes, Tyler told me you’d be around,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Greta Colton.”

  “I know who you are, Ms. Colton. I know of your work,” he said respectfully.

  “Please, make it Greta,” she replied and turned her attention to the horse backed against the far railing. “And I don’t know if Tyler told you or not, but from here on, that horse’s name is Sugar.”

  Raymond grinned. “If you can make that filly sweet as sugar, then I’ll know your reputation as a miracle worker with horses isn’t overblown
.”

  “Time will tell,” Greta replied. The two chatted for a few minutes, talking about rodeos they had both attended and mutual acquaintances in the horse business, and then Raymond returned to his work in the barn, leaving her to sort out her mood.

  The photo had been such a shock. Why would Mark want to do something like that? Why would anyone do that? Something so ugly? Why make her out to be some kind of a slut when he was the one who had left her to languish in a jail cell while he wined and dined old girlfriends?

  It was mean-spirited and so unfair, and it only made her more grateful than ever that the wedding had been called off before she’d married such a man.

  Did Tyler possess that kind of mean streak, too? That was the problem. She didn’t know him well enough to discern all of the facets of his character.

  She knew how well he kissed. She knew how his surprisingly muscled body felt against hers. She’d seen his charm and sense of humor, but that was only a part of who he was. She had no idea what other parts made up his sum.

  She drew in deep cleansing breaths and released the air slowly, calming herself as she watched Sugar shake her head and paw the dusty reddish-brown earth. She pranced beneath the shed and then along the back fence as if staking out her territory.

  The first thing Greta needed to do was make the horse understand that the territory was hers only if a human allowed it. Sugar had to understand she wasn’t the boss.

  Finally calm and with the negative energy gone, Greta opened the gate and Sugar froze. Her ears flicked backward and she flared her nostrils. “Hey, girl. Hey, pretty Sugar,” Greta said as she stepped into the fenced area and closed the gate behind her.

  Greta began to walk around the corral, never attempting to get close to Sugar, who moved to keep a healthy distance between them.

  For an hour that was all she did...walk the territory that Sugar had believed was her own. She talked to the horse sometimes in a soft whisper and other times in a loud voice.

  Sugar had to get used to the different tones of human voices. She had to learn not to spook by a shout.

  Greta walked slowly and methodically, making sure not to get too close to the horse. She never lost track of the fact that with a single kick or with a sudden lurch or lunge the horse could seriously hurt or kill her. She always respected the size of the animals she attempted to gentle.

  After an hour she returned to the house, where the newspaper was still on the kitchen table. She reread the article and then took great pleasure in shredding the whole paper into tiny pieces that she then threw into the trash.

  She’d just fixed herself a glass of iced tea when her cell phone rang.

  “Is she saddle ready?” Tyler’s deep voice asked when she answered.

  Greta laughed. “No, I think I need another hour or so.”

  “I just thought I’d check in with you. You were pretty upset when I left this morning.”

  “I just purged myself of my upset by tearing the newspaper into tiny little pieces and throwing it away,” she replied.

  “Then you’re doing okay?” There was genuine concern in his voice.

  “I worked with Sugar for an hour. I’m inside having a glass of iced tea and then I’m going back out to the corral. I’m doing fine now,” she assured him.

  “I’m planning on being home around six tonight. Shall we do dinner out?”

  “It’s up to you, but I don’t mind cooking something here,” she replied. She definitely wasn’t too keen to be out at a restaurant tonight with Tyler when their kissfest had been broadcast in the newspaper that morning.

  “You can cook?”

  “I’m certainly not a master chef, but I can get a decent meal on the table,” she replied. Many nights, she’d cooked for Mark in his condo because he hadn’t wanted to spend the money to go out to eat unless it was a special night and he thought their picture might be taken by some reporter.

  “I’ll leave that decision up to you,” he replied. “I don’t want you to feel responsible for anything but training the horse.”

  “And I’m about to head back out there now,” she replied. She didn’t want him to think she was just lazing around inside the house while he was gone.

  “Then I’ll see you around six,” he replied.

  They said their goodbyes, and before heading back outside, Greta checked the refrigerator freezer to see what she could pull together for dinner. It was obvious by the slim offerings that Tyler ate out a lot. She spied a package of four pork chops wedged beneath a frozen pizza and threw them on the counter to thaw and then headed back outside.

  * * *

  Bingo.

  Alice stabbed a dirty fingernail into the newspaper that held the photo of her twin sister kissing Tyler Stanton. Greta Colton—cattle princess and living the life that was meant for Alice.

  Hatred shot through her as she stared at the image of her double. Why had Big J chosen Greta to take the place of his dead daughter? Why hadn’t he picked her? He should have picked her.

  She pulled her hat down lower over her forehead as the café waitress came over to refill her coffee cup. “Can I get you anything else?” the waitress asked.

  Alice shook her head. She was in a little dive on the outskirts of Tulsa, a place she knew her sister and any of her high-society friends or family would never be caught dead.

  Still, she’d pulled her hair up beneath a hat and wore a pair of fake eyeglasses in an effort to disguise herself from anyone who might have seen Greta either in person or in the morning news.

  The waitress left and Alice stared back at the newspaper. Over the past couple of days she’d lost track of Greta’s whereabouts.

  Alice had lain low after she’d killed the ranch hand, and in the span of the past couple of days she’d realized Greta’s Jeep was missing from the family garage and she’d had no idea where she’d gone.

  She’d been frantic to find her. How could she right the wrong of the past if she didn’t know where Greta was?

  She smiled down at the newspaper article. But now she knew exactly where she was located, at Tyler Stanton’s home in Oklahoma City. All Alice had to do was conduct a little research and she’d learn the location of that home.

  Then she and Greta could have the family reunion Alice had always dreamed of, the one where she killed the woman who looked like her, the woman who had stolen the life Alice should have had.

  * * *

  It was five minutes after six when Tyler pulled into his garage at home. Thoughts of Greta had plagued him throughout the day and now he was eager to get inside and see her once again.

  He tried to tell himself that he was just anxious to find out how things had gone with Sugar, but that wasn’t the whole truth. He just wanted to see her again, make sure she was really okay after the morning surprise of the newspaper article.

  He was interested in her work, but he was equally interested in the woman. He was surprised by her adamant declaration that she wasn’t going to share his bed again.

  The few women he’d dated in the past had been far too eager to keep him in their beds, using their sexual wiles to attempt to entice him into marriage. But he’d known in his heart that it wasn’t love that drove them but rather the desire to be married to the money and status that Tyler possessed.

  Greta’s determination for them to get to know each other on a different level only made him respect her. He shut off his car engine and entered the house by the door that led into the kitchen.

  She wasn’t there, but the tantalizing scent of cooking meat and simmering vegetables greeted him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d come home to the scents of a home-cooked meal. It was nice. It was a welcome he embraced.

  He shrugged off his suit jacket and loosened his tie. It had been a rather stressful day with meetings and the concern about the volatility of oil prices and constantly changing regulations. It was good to get home and put all that behind him for the rest of the evening.

  He walked from the kitchen thr
ough the great room and met Greta coming out of the spare bedroom. “Oh, I didn’t hear you come in,” she said in surprise.

  “I’m in,” he replied and tried not to notice how charming she looked. She was still clad in her jeans but had changed into a different long-sleeved red flannel shirt.

  Her dark hair looked soft and touchable as it fell to her shoulders in rich, thick waves. He had to fight against the automatic physical desire to run his fingers through her hair and pull her close against him.

  “I was just cleaning up for dinner,” she said.

  “It smells delicious.”

  “I’ll have it on the table in about fifteen minutes,” she replied.

  “Good. That will give me a chance to get out of this monkey suit.”

  They passed each other and he caught a whiff of her fresh, clean slightly citrusy scent and again fought off a desire to take her into his arms and kiss her until they were both breathless.

  He shook his head as he entered his bedroom, surprised that after two nights of making love to her he still wanted her as badly as he had the first night, when she’d appeared in his doorway clad only in his T-shirt.

  She’d looked like a goddess in that shirt, with her coltish long legs bare and the thrust of her breasts visible. The moonlight had painted her features in a silvery patina that had been enchanting.

  But he intended to stick to his words. He wouldn’t attempt to get her into his bed again, at least not overtly. Seduction was still on the table, although the ball was ultimately in her court. He was vaguely surprised that he was eager to know her mind as well as he’d learned the contours of her body.

  He changed into a pair of jeans and a long-sleeved beige polo shirt, looking forward to a leisurely dinner and some relaxation with the woman who had been in his thoughts all day. He also wanted to know how the day had gone with Greta and Sugar.

  By the time he reached the kitchen, she had the table set and the food on the plates. “Just in time,” she said as she sat in the chair she’d sat in for coffee that morning.