Melissa Cutler - Colton's Cowboy Code

“I didn’t bring you to the ranch so I could seduce you. I asked you to stay here so I could take care of you and the baby, not take advantage of you.”

“That’s a shame,” Hannah whispered.

Brett wanted her in a bad, bad way.

She sauntered toward him—a seductress intent on the object of her desire.

“Are your dangerously out-of-control hormones going to keep testing my resolve for the rest of your pregnancy?” He’d meant it as a jest, but his voice was still thick with need.

“Probably. But if you’re expecting an apology, you’re going to be disappointed.”

“Let’s get out of here.”

They strolled to the grand staircase. “How’s it going to feel like a proper date if you don’t kiss me good-night?” she asked in a quiet purr of a voice as they mounted the stairs.

Oh, man, she wasn’t making this easy on him. “Your hormones again?”

A mischievous grin graced her lips. “No. That was all me.”

“Hannah, I don’t think getting physically involved with each other is the best plan.”

“It’s not the worst plan, either.”

***

Be sure to check out the next books in The Coltons of Oklahoma series. The Coltons of Oklahoma:Family secrets always find a way to resurface … w

Colton’s Cowboy Code

Melisa Cutler

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MELISSA CUTLERis a flip-flop-wearing Southern California native living with her husband, two rambunctious kids and two suspicious cats in beautiful San Diego. She divides her time between her dual passions for writing sexy, small-town contemporary romances and edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense. Find out more about Melissa and her books at www.melissacutler.net, or drop her a line at cutlermail@yahoo.com.

To my husband, who’s the most amazing father I’ve ever seen. The kids and I are so lucky to have you as the rock of our family, my darling.

Contents

Cover

Introduction “I didn’t bring you to the ranch so I could seduce you. I asked you to stay here so I could take care of you and the baby, not take advantage of you.” “That’s a shame,” Hannah whispered. Brett wanted her in a bad, bad way. She sauntered toward him—a seductress intent on the object of her desire. “Are your dangerously out-of-control hormones going to keep testing my resolve for the rest of your pregnancy?” He’d meant it as a jest, but his voice was still thick with need. “Probably. But if you’re expecting an apology, you’re going to be disappointed.” “Let’s get out of here.” They strolled to the grand staircase. “How’s it going to feel like a proper date if you don’t kiss me good-night?” she asked in a quiet purr of a voice as they mounted the stairs. Oh, man, she wasn’t making this easy on him. “Your hormones again?” A mischievous grin graced her lips. “No. That was all me.” “Hannah, I don’t think getting physically involved with each other is the best plan.” “It’s not the worst plan, either.” *** Be sure to check out the next books in The Coltons of Oklahoma series. The Coltons of Oklahoma: Family secrets always find a way to resurface … w

Title Page Colton’s Cowboy Code Melisa Cutler www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author MELISSA CUTLER is a flip-flop-wearing Southern California native living with her husband, two rambunctious kids and two suspicious cats in beautiful San Diego. She divides her time between her dual passions for writing sexy, small-town contemporary romances and edge-of-your-seat romantic suspense. Find out more about Melissa and her books at www.melissacutler.net , or drop her a line at cutlermail@yahoo.com .

Dedication To my husband, who’s the most amazing father I’ve ever seen. The kids and I are so lucky to have you as the rock of our family, my darling.

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Extract

Copyright

Chapter 1

In Brett Colton’s ears, in his mind, the shrill keening of tornado sirens eclipsed all other sound, despite that he and Outlaw were too far into the backcountry for the sirens to be more than a figment of his imagination—his intuition warning him that this mission was a really stupid plan because there were a hundred ways to die in a storm this angry.

There was no fury in hell or on earth that compared to an Oklahoma thunderstorm when it decided to unleash a twister. The clouds above Tulsa churned, glowing gray green. Golf-ball-sized hail pelted Brett’s Stetson and the back of his oiled leather duster. He folded forward, shielding Outlaw’s neck and mane from the brunt of the hail’s force as best he could, though neither man nor steed were strangers to the elements.

One of these days, Brett’s guardian angels would give him up as a lost cause, but, God willing, it wasn’t going to be today. Not with so much on the line. Not after everything his family had been through in the past month or the sharp edge of disappointment in his father’s and brother’s eyes when Brett had broken it to them about the downed fence and the missing cattle. As if Brett had let the herd loose on purpose. As if he was still the same reckless punk he’d been four months ago.

Then again, maybe Brett hadn’t completely vanquished the recklessness from his blood, because here he was, racing across the rolling plains of the Lucky C ranch’s backcountry, straight toward the deadly funnel forming in the distance. Any minute, a flash flood might come rocketing through, if lightning or a twister didn’t hit down first, but he refused to return to the Lucky C homestead without the half dozen pregnant cows that had escaped.

The downed fence was a mystery that Brett would have to contemplate later. He’d checked that line himself the week before. All he knew was that the ranch that he’d once thought of as a fortress was no longer an impenetrable haven for his family, and the decades of peace and prosperity that the Coltons had enjoyed had been shattered beyond repair.

Brett had followed the tracks of the six stampeding cows southwest, keeping them in sight through the rain and the darkening sky, right up until the clouds had let loose with hail. With zero visibility and the cows’ hoofprints lost in the churned-up ground and melting balls of ice, he was riding with nothing to guide him but the hunch that the cows had headed toward Vulture Ridge, as the stock on the ranch had done so many times over the years. As long as they’d had enough sense to stop at the ridge instead of going over the edge— Lord, please don’t let them have gone over the edge —Brett would find a way to get them back to the Lucky C before the twister touched down.

Outlaw expertly cut around scrub trees and boulders without losing speed until Vulture Ridge came into view.

“Gotcha,” Brett said, though his words were lost in a crash of thunder.

Four of the cows crowded at the edge of the infamous gully, their hind hooves pawing at the muddy, disintegrating ledge and baying, clearly terrified. Brett slowed Outlaw to a trot and instead of closing in on the cows head-on, guided the horse in a wide arc. Then he rode along the ridge and came up on the cows from the side. Outlaw knew the drill, imposing his authority to the cattle, crowding and nudging them away from the edge.

Once they complied, Brett craned his neck to scan the expanse of prairie land for the remaining two cows. One, he spotted immediately, huddled against a boulder, but the other was nowhere to be seen. Fearing what he’d find, Brett turned his focus to the gully below Vulture Ridge that had been carved out by centuries of flash floods. The missing cow’s ear came into view first, tagged with a green tag that meant she was a heifer—a young first-time mom who was probably beyond freaked out at the moment.