Karen Whiddon - Colton's Surprise Family

Colton’s

Surprise Family

Karen Whiddon

www.millsandboon.co.uk

Cover

Title Page Colton’s Surprise Family Karen Whiddon www.millsandboon.co.uk

About the Author About the Author KAREN WHIDDON started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amidst the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty of the rugged peaks and spun stories of love that captivated her family’s attention. Karen now lives in North Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing the contemporary romantic suspense and paranormal romances that readers enjoy. You can e-mail Karen at K.Whiddon1@ aol.com or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX76182, USA. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.KarenWhiddon.com.

Dedication To my three faithful writing companions, Daisy Mae, Mitchell Thomas and Mac Macadoo. These three dogs (two miniature schnauzers and one boxer) have kept me company through so many books, barely opening their eyes when I talk to myself or pace as I try to figure out a scene. I couldn’t do it without them.

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

Epilogue

Copyright

Dear Reader,

I’ve always wanted to travel to Montana, so I loved spending my time on the Colton family ranch in my imagination. Add the Christmas holiday into the mix, and you have this writer’s idea of heaven. Snow and mountains and Christmas trees—oh, my! And let’s not forget the most important part—family and friends and love. So much love.

Writing a hero as damaged as Damien Colton was a challenge. Imagining how much this man must have suffered while imprisoned for a crime he didn’t commit, and realizing that the scope of his loss was so much more than just time, broke my heart. Like many of you, I can’t resist a gorgeous, damaged man. Luckily for him, Eve Kelley has always secretly had a thing for him, and her love just might be enough to save him.

It was a double blessing that I was able to write this story during the holiday season and many times I wrote sitting by my own decorated Christmas tree. Love makes such a wonderful Christmas gift, don’t you agree?

Karen Whiddon

KAREN WHIDDONstarted weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amidst the Catskill Mountains of New York, then the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty of the rugged peaks and spun stories of love that captivated her family’s attention.

Karen now lives in North Texas, where she shares her life with her very own hero of a husband and three doting dogs. Also an entrepreneur, she divides her time between the business she started and writing the contemporary romantic suspense and paranormal romances that readers enjoy. You can e-mail Karen at K.Whiddon1@ aol.com or write to her at PO Box 820807, Fort Worth, TX76182, USA. Fans of her writing can also check out her website, www.KarenWhiddon.com.

To my three faithful writing companions, Daisy Mae, Mitchell Thomas and Mac Macadoo. These three dogs (two miniature schnauzers and one boxer) have kept me company through so many books, barely opening their eyes when I talk to myself or pace as I try to figure out a scene. I couldn’t do it without them.

Reeking of whiskey, cigar smoke and some fast woman’s cheap perfume, Darius Colton barely resembled the dignified patriarch Damien Colton remembered from his youth. Glaring at his prodigal son with red-rimmed eyes, Darius’s upper lip curled in derision as he pondered Damien’s question.

It was a question that deserved to be answered. Cursing his bad timing, Damien elaborated. “I’d like to see the bank statements for my account.”

“Are you questioning my word?” Darius snarled, his consonants slightly slurred.

“No.” Damien crossed his arms. “But that money should have been earning interest the entire time I was in prison. Now you’re telling me there’s nothing left?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you, boy.” With a dismissive smile, Darius turned away, only to glance back over his shoulder. “You’ve got nothing.”

Damien checked his rising temper, one of the many neat tricks he’d learned while incarcerated. Who knew it would serve him so well here in the outside world?

He kept his voice level. “I never signed anything authorizing you—or anyone else—to touch that money. I need an explanation. Hell, I deserve an explanation.”

In response, his sixty-year-old, white-haired father let loose with a string of curses vile enough to make a sailor blush. Darius’s face went red, then purple as he glared at his son with rage-filled eyes.

So much anger. So much hate.

Fists clenched, Damien waited it out. When Darius finally ran out of steam, Damien stepped back. “We’ll talk about this again when you’re sober,” he said. “As soon as possible.”

In the act of pouring another glass of Scotch, Darius turned on him so fast the expensive liquor sloshed all over his sleeve. He didn’t appear to notice or care, so intent was he on giving his son what the Colton kids used to call the death stare. If looks could kill…

“You will not mention this to me again. The subject is closed.”

“Later,” Damien insisted. “I promise you we will discuss this later.” He’d been saying this for months now. Enough was enough.

Though Damien halfway believed if he persisted, Darius would haul off and slug him, he’d been through hell and back already. Since the day he’d been set free and the prison gates had disgorged him, he’d known that no event life might have in store for him could ever be as heinous as the day he’d been convicted of a crime he hadn’t committed.

None. Ever.

So Darius blustering and trying to tell him that he’d somehow lost a three-million-dollar inheritance didn’t even compare. Especially since Damien didn’t believe a word his dear old father said. He needed to talk to his brothers. And Maisie, he amended silently. All of them.

And quickly. Though he’d been home for three whole months, he hadn’t seen this coming. When had the old man become so…unstable and deceitful? Something had to be wrong. Darius didn’t need his son’s money—he had enough of his own. But why lie? Round and round Damien’s mind went, trying to adjust to what had just happened. Darius couldn’t have stolen his inheritance. The money had to be here somewhere. All Damien had to do was find it.

Watching as his father, whiskey glass in hand, staggered from his office to the master bedroom suites, Damien was left frustrated and empty-handed, wishing he could punch something.

Gradually, sounds from the great room penetrated his consciousness. Christmas carols, rustling and clinking and talking and laughter. He remembered now—the family was gathering for the annual Colton family Christmas-tree-decorating ceremony.

When he’d been in prison he’d dreamt of this event. Now, he wasn’t even sure he’d bother to attend. He really just wanted to head out to the barn and saddle up Duncan, his favorite quarter horse gelding, and ride out to the back pastures. As a matter of fact—