The Billionaire's Colton Threat Read online

  The horses’ hooves were leaving prints in the clay bank of the river, the water lapping impatiently at their powerful legs. Halle took it all in, but not before checking out Alastair’s profile. Satisfaction unfurled in her rib cage, knowing he was moved by the scenery. In this fleeting moment she knew she’d done her job. The strong breeze, the white rapids where the water raced around the bend, the quieter area farther downstream that would be too deep to cross—all played their part to showcase the spectrum of the river’s strength. “We’re going to have to cross here, where it’s still shallow enough. See that part, where it looks like it’s not moving?” She waited for him to nod. “That’s most likely a deep ditch from the current. We want to steer clear of it. The horses know what to do but we need to stay steady and confident as we guide them.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” His smile was almost a smirk, but not quite. Part of her wished he’d fall off his damned high perch, but a bigger part wouldn’t ever want to put Buster at risk of rolling over or breaking a leg.

  She answered his grin with her own. “Ready?”

  “By your side, yes.”

  Damn it, he took her breath away. She couldn’t blame it on the Scottish accent any longer. She had a major crush on her sexy billionaire cowboy. It was going to remain a secret crush.

  “Let’s do it. And please put your phone away, Alastair. You don’t want to become another tourist who loses their device because of a lack of judgment.”

  “Okay, you’re the river crossing expert but I’m the tech expert. My phone is in a LifeProof case and will survive any submersion in water. It also floats. And it’s quite secure in the saddle, where it’ll stay while we get our horses across safely.” He pointed at the phone nestled in the holder he’d brought with him. The contraption fit perfectly around his saddle horn, and while she admired its convenience she preferred to keep her phone in her wraparound thigh pocket when riding. Her mobile was for emergencies only out here on the trail.

  Alastair didn’t move.

  “Good to hear. We don’t need any distractions. Paying attention is key.” She wasn’t in the mood to fish him out of the river if he went in.

  “I’ve got this, Halle. Trust me.” He patted Buster’s neck as he spoke, his focus clearly on his mount and not the phone he’d tucked back into its holder.

  “Whatever. I warned you.” She urged Buttercup into the river and waited for Alastair to do the same with Buster. Just as he promised, Alastair took Buster into the river without hesitation. He stayed with her, following every suggestion to maneuver Buster as she gave them. Until a loud ding sounded over the gushing water. To her horror, Alastair looked at the phone. Her gut twisted, cutting off her air.

  “Pay attention. Your horse needs you.” Her voice sounded weak over the roar of the river and the gusty wind that blew her hair from its ponytail.

  “I just need a minute, Halle.” Alastair’s face was grim, his mouth pulled down. He’d pulled the phone out and scrolled through some message or other. After he finished whatever he was reading he shot her a huge grin and placed the phone back in its makeshift saddle holder. “Just teasing you, Halle. I wouldn’t be so stupid as to risk Bust—whoa!”

  Buster’s manners, decent until now, fled as a large, fallen tree that had been swept into the river came into view not more than one hundred yards away. It appeared to be aimed straight at them. The large horse bucked and bolted across the river, as if reaching the other shore in record time meant life or death.

  Alastair, unfortunately, didn’t make it to the bank with Buster. As soon as Buster bolted, Alastair flew through the air and landed with a large splash in the middle of the river. When he disappeared under the water Halle panicked. If he hit his head and was unconscious, he’d drown in minutes. She slid off Buttercup and slapped her rump. “Go, girl!”

  She waded to where she’d watched Alastair’s body submerge. There was no sign of him. She stood on solid ground, able to withstand the force of the river but unable to see one flash of his clothing. Nothing but the froth of the water from the sudden uptick in current. And then his head popped up, his arms working around him in the water. Did he think he could outswim a swollen Texas river?

  “Alastair!” He turned toward her and grinned. They were moments from a cold death and he was grinning like a fool. Or someone whose brain was operating in a fog. Panic rose as she realized he might already be hypothermic.

  Her boots filled with water and her soles slipped on the rocky river bottom as she reached for Alastair, her fingers desperate to reach his shirt or jeans and haul him up. Instead the current knocked her against him, her entire body plastered against his in the freezing water.

  Blue eyes with no evidence of the danger they were in sparkled at her. “Now th-th-this is what I c-c-call a T-Texas adventure!”

  “Look at me, Alastair. Can you walk?”

  “Of course.” Alastair stood up. Dripping wet, he started to shiver. Violently. “D-d-don’t b-b-be m-m-mad at m-m-me.” In spite of his body’s immediate reaction to the frigid water, his eyes were alight with genuine contrition. If she weren’t so afraid for his life, she’d find the situation comic.

  “We need to get to the other side. Now!” At which point she was going to strip the wet clothes off of him, wrap him in a first aid space blanket, start a warm campfire and then kill him for his ignorance.

  “D-d-don’t w-w-worry.” He leaned heavily against her and she braced her boots in the silty bottom of the river. They made their way, one step at a time. As they neared the bank where Buster and Buttercup patiently waited, the river stilled. “L-l-look, it-t-t’s all b-b-better.”

  “Shut up, Alastair.”

  * * *

  Halle Ford had saved his life. Alastair prided himself on his inner strength, the core of his being that had gotten him through the bullying he’d endured as a grade schooler. His entire school career, actually, until he’d grown taller and his shoulders wider than those of his mean classmates. The same financial status that had blessed him with such a protected life in many ways had been his enemy then, as jealous classmates went after him with a vengeance. He’d never told his parents; he’d used his brains to outwit his adversaries and taken the punches he’d had to.

  Until the school psychologist had called him in and insisted he confess to the beatings, the terrorizing episodes of being dragged out of bed in the wee hours and hung by his ankles outside of his dormitory window. His enemies had been expelled and he’d faced another uphill battle, working with the counselor to undo the years of abuse and anxiety.

  He’d thought he’d survive anything after that. Scaled mountains, in fact. Yet a river in Texas had almost done him in. Without Halle, he’d never have waded out of that cold water.

  “You’re okay, Alastair.” She placed her hand on his shoulder for a brief moment as she rubbed his legs. The pins and needles sensation hurt like hell, but somewhere in the icy sludge of his brain he recognized she was preventing hypothermia.

  “Th-th-thanks.” The word barely made it out around his chattering teeth.

  “Don’t talk. Save your energy to heat back up.” Her massage continued, and he knew that when he felt himself again he’d regret that he’d been naked under the space blanket and unable to act on the fantasies he’d had of Halle for the past couple of days.

  “Here are some dry socks.” She expertly unrolled heavy hiking socks onto his feet. Wool had never felt so good against his skin. Almost as good as her warm hands, hands that had moved on to his thighs.

  “I’m aiming at your larger muscle groups to get your circulation going and warm you up quicker.” Her eyes were warm chocolate as she met his gaze. The smile in them reached her lips and she winked. “Don’t worry, Alastair. You’re not the first person to underestimate that river, and you won’t be the last. We’ll have you feeling yourself in no time.”

 
He wondered if she knew that when he was feeling himself again it could be awkward, as he had no doubt his erection would make a prominent teepee in the aluminum fabric blanket.

  Problem was, as much as wanted to make love to this woman who was rubbing him back to life, he didn’t want her to think it was all about the sex. There was something stronger, deeper here. The kind of connection that could go the distance.

  Alastair let out a groan as pain shot up his leg and into his groin. He’d worry about his dick after he got all of his feeling back.

  * * *

  “Here, drink this.” Halle handed Alastair a tin mug of hot tea. “Take little sips.”

  “L-l-l-like I c-c-c-can m-m-m-manage more.” He was still visibly shaking, his body in all-out warm-up mode.

  “If you hadn’t refused to strip down and get wrapped in the blanket for so long, you wouldn’t be so miserable now.” She’d pulled him out of the water almost an hour ago. He’d all but made her wrestle him to get him to take the wet clothes off and get in the blanket. She knew he was hurting when he made no quips about her seeing him naked or about her getting undressed with him. It had been awkward for a millisecond when her skin came into contact with his, but since his was alarmingly cold, she’d switched into first aid mode. They’d lain together on top of the bedrolls, and she’d wished she could will Alastair’s body back to normal temperature.

  “I can’t believe it. You could have died out there.” She allowed the heat of her tea to warm her, ignoring the urge to return to the cocoon of heat she and Alastair had enjoyed until she sensed he was out of danger. More like his erection had clued her in. It would have been too easy to make a joke about it, to ease his obvious discomfort. But she didn’t know him well enough yet. At least not chronologically. Her soul felt as though she’d known him her whole life.

  “I’m better.” His eyes were half-hooded, his expression predatory. Pretty fast recovery for a man she’d thought was going to freeze to death a half hour earlier.

  As he sat and sipped his tea, she set up camp. Her tent popped up and she cast a look at Alastair, next to the fire. The sun was a distant memory and the navy sky began to sparkle with countless stars. Hypothermia was a real risk. His shivering was a good sign, but he’d been in those wet clothes for too long. She’d gotten out of their embrace and put on sweatpants and socks while he’d procrastinated at putting on dry clothing.

  “I think you’d better let me help you.” She sat next to him and started to rub his arms through the crinkly metallic blanket. As she worked over him, praying his blood would start warming up and that he’d be more of the Alastair she’d spent the last three days with, a terrifying thought occurred to her.

  You care about him.

  Impossible. She barely knew the man. And while their physical chemistry had been often palpable over their trail ride, it wasn’t enough to ensure a promise of deeper feelings. Was it?

  “Thanks. That feels good.” His teeth weren’t chattering anymore; a very good sign.

  “Are you getting warmer?”

  “A bit, but I’m afraid you’re right. I may have waited too long to get naked.” His expression was unreadable as she stood between the fire and him, massaging his legs. Very muscular legs that no longer felt clammy. Before her hands betrayed her and moved up under the blanket to the tops of his legs, or more accurately, between them, Halle leaned back on her heels, her hands on her thighs.

  “Now’s not the time to flirt, Alastair. You could have died in the river. And all for what? Your stupid cell phone?”

  “While it’s my brain trust, most of the time, I wasn’t as worried about it as I let you think. I was trying to push your buttons. It was poor flirting style on my part.” His voice had lowered, returning to its usual pitch. Halle grasped his left foot and rubbed briskly at it, then massaged his arch, his toes. He groaned with relief once the initial stiffness melted away.

  “It wasn’t the flirting that was off, it was your timing.” She didn’t want to reveal too much, but after seeing him so close to hypothermia it seemed silly to play coy. “Are your muscles cramping up at all?” She was on her knees, looking up at him. If the blanket moved one inch she was going to be treated to a lot more of Alastair than she’d bargained for. She’d seen his backside as she’d stripped him, had felt his erection as he’d warmed up, but had successfully kept her gaze off any private parts. The parts that she’d see if he wore a kilt.

  The vision of Alastair in a kilt was a bad idea. Now all she wanted was to touch him, everywhere. More like taste him everywhere.

  “Halle.” His hands were on her wrists and he pulled her off balance, forcing her up against him. They were chest to chest, the blanket the only barrier to his bare skin. Her shirt and sweatpants felt too bulky, in the way.

  “You’re feeling better, I take it.” Her voice was breathy, and she didn’t care about his risk of hypothermia any longer. Not with his eyes sparking in the firelight, her insides quaking not with cold but insane desire. Shock. She had to be going into shock over the ordeal. It wasn’t every day she came close to losing a client.

  “Warm me up, Halle.” His words tugged at her resolve and she swallowed, refusing to make any move.

  “No. Listen, Alastair—you, me, we’re in shock. That was a close call out there. I know you think you feel better, but believe me, you need a good night’s rest and a chance to recover from your body’s temperature drop.”

  “You’ll warm me up better than anything. As a matter of fact, that’s the best way to make sure I stay warm. You get naked again, and we lie next to one another. Skin on skin.”

  Her desire was at a fever pitch but she was reminded of her place. And the kind of business she did not operate. She walked a few steps away and stirred the soup she’d heated over the fire. Her hands were shaking with want. Want for him.

  “Drink some more of the hot tea, Alastair. It’ll raise your internal temperature.” Her voice was as shaky as her insides. Damn it. There was no way she was going to touch him, no way she could justify—

  His lips touched her throat, his blanket-wrapped front up against her back as she stirred.

  “Alastair, I—”

  “It’s okay to have needs other than running Bluewood, Halle.” Why couldn’t he sound like he was sick, or still chilled, or unable to think straight? Why did he have to sound so sane, so steady, so sure of what would be best for her?

  * * *

  Alastair knew he was coming off a bit too heavy-handed, especially for a man who’d been totally at Halle’s mercy only an hour earlier. He took a step backward, gave Halle room as he stepped to her side, in front of the small fire.

  “I’m sorry—that was presumptive. I wish I could blame it on the cold water but I have a bad habit of telling others what’s best for them.”

  Halle stirred the dirt with a stick she’d picked up off the ground. “I get that. When you have to rely on your instincts for so long, it’s easy to think your way is the right way.”

  “I don’t know you well, Halle, not as well as I’d like to. But is it fair to say that you’ve done little, probably nothing, for yourself since your father died?”

  Her lids lifted and revealed the depths of pain she’d walked through. “At first I didn’t want to do anything. I think I stayed in pajamas for the first two days after the funeral. But then, then I knew I owed him more. Daddy didn’t raise me to be a slacker, and this land was everything to him.”

  “You need a break. We all do. Sometimes when I’m travelling for weeks on end I plan a quick trip to a resort or island to escape. Believe it or not, I go completely off the grid from time to time.”

  That got a grin out of her. And a beautiful grin it was. He loved how her entire expression lit up like the Highlands did when the heather bloomed.

  “That might have been a good decision today.”

/>   “Although, if I had, you may have never had the privilege of seeing my bum.”

  “Never, Alastair?”

  Halle wasn’t flirting or teasing. The heat in her eyes wasn’t a reflection of the fire, either. She was a woman boldly expressing her want, and Alastair had never been more turned on.

  * * *

  Halle turned toward him and didn’t know who moved first, but the tiny space between them disappeared and Alastair’s lips were on hers. He stamped her mouth with his, and her senses were on overload with his musk and the coolness of his tongue. The pent-up sexual attraction they’d fought against each and every hour on the trail had won. Halle surrendered to her desire and the relief was as sharp as her sexual response to him. When his tongue licked around her lips and insisted entry, she opened her mouth fully and took him in. He tasted as good as she’d imagined. Tea, honey and Alastair. Tea she’d given him to warm up. She pushed against his chest, breaking their contact, their gasps loud and harsh in the still Texas night.

  “You could have died. Are you up for this?” They both laughed at her question. His erection, which he ground against her pulsating center, answered it.

  “Outside or in your tent?” He growled the words as he sucked gently at the skin on her throat, his hands moving up and under her shirt, on her waist, cupping her breasts through her sports bra. When he tweaked her nipples Halle groaned.

  “Tent. You’re still at risk from the cold.”

  They half walked, half stumbled into her tent. Alastair was definitely feeling better as he pressed her shoulders onto the sleeping bag and rose above her. “I want to make love to you in so many ways, Halle. But later. This time I don’t want to wait or draw it out. I need you now. Pure and simple.”

  “Yes.” Amazing she could force the word out, as turned on as she was.

  “Condoms?” His Scottish accent made the request seem as gentlemanly as it was.