technology to sound like some criminal in the witness protection program testifying in closed court. No one had even attempted to bargain, demanding a king’s ransom in exchange for the wealthy, well-known Texas citizen’s safe return.
Zane held fast to the fact that up until now there had been no body found. And even though there were a dozen explanations for that, until a body was discovered, he was going to continue believing that his stepfather was still alive.
Not just believing it, but actively doing something to find out what had happened to the man and where Eldridge had been all this time since the morning that Moira, the family housekeeper of long standing, had been dispatched to the patriarch’s room because his wife, Whitney, had wanted him by her side as she attended another society breakfast.
Zane could still hear Moira’s scream ringing in his ears. Moreover, he could hear his mother as she’d first railed indignantly at the housekeeper for making a scene, then dramatically dissolved into histrionics when Whitney had seen the blood on the bedroom floor and the windowsill. It was at that moment she had realized that her husband of almost thirty years was not just missing, but could quite possibly be dead.
Well, his mother might believe that, but Zane didn’t. Oh, his stepfather was definitely missing—and had been for the past month, despite the presumably best efforts of Sheriff Troy Watkins and his two deputies. And since the blood in the bedroom had been tested and had turned out to be his stepfather’s, he knew that Eldridge Colton was definitely hurt.
But dead? No, the man wasn’t dead. Seventy-five-year-old, short, skinny Eldridge Colton was one tough SOB; he always had been. He couldn’t be killed. Zane was certain that his gut would have told him otherwise if his stepfather was no longer among the living. The way he saw it, Eldridge had to be alive because he, Zane, hadn’t really reached his own goal yet—to live up to what he felt were his stepfather’s expectations of him.
Eldridge had married his mother when she was a widow with two very young children. At the time, Eldridge was a widower with two children of his own, Fowler and Alanna. The man hadn’t had to adopt him and his sister, Marceline. He could have just as easily ignored them.
But he hadn’t.
Instead, Eldridge had incorporated them into his life and, when the time had come, into his business—or at least he’d tried when it came to Marceline. But Marceline harbored her own ill will against Eldridge and refused to have him do anything for her that would place her into further debt to the man.
Eldridge had treated Zane well. He hadn’t dictated to him like a despot whose word was law but had spoken to him like an understanding parent. When Zane had indicated to his stepfather that he was really very uncomfortable being a corporate suit in the grand scheme of things, Eldridge hadn’t expressed disappointment, hadn’t railed at him. Instead, his stepfather had made him his head of security for Colton Incorporated.
In his own way, the man had tried his best to be understanding when he really didn’t have to be.
Eldridge Colton was a good, decent man, and Zane intended to find out just what had happened to him. He owed him that much. With luck—and Eldridge had once taught him that a man made his own luck—he was going to find the kidnapped CEO, and he was going to bring him back to his family.
Alive.
She wasn’t showing yet.
Despite the fact that she felt rounded and pudgy and could almost envision tiny, lightning bolt arrows coming in from 360 different directions, all conspicuously pointing at her stomach, Mirabella Freeman really wasn’t showing yet.
But she knew it was just a matter of time before she would be.
So every morning, after she had showered and got dressed, Mirabella would look herself over very carefully in her wardrobe mirror from as many angles as she could manage. She was trying to reassure herself that her initially ironing-board-flat stomach still appeared that way.
Meanwhile, she did what she could to prepare for the inevitable. Though money had never been plentiful, she’d always known how to buy just the right pieces and make the most of the limited wardrobe she had. She’d always known how to divert attention away from what she felt to be her visible flaws. When she was very young, it had been her unruly red hair, so she had found a way to tame it and make the most of its good features.
Because her curves had come early—way earlier than the rest of the girls in her class—she had worn long blouses that gathered at her hip, diverting the eye there rather than at her rounded chest.
And now she was focused on making sure no one’s attention was drawn to her waist, causing them to possibly suspect she was pregnant.
Society had evolved to the point that it really wasn’t supposed to be a big deal for a single woman to be with child. But the people who ran Colton Incorporated were on the old-fashioned side and she didn’t want to take any chances until she really had no other options but to let them know her condition.
Besides, with her hormones in an uproar the way they’d been lately, she was in no mood to be the subject of gossip and speculation even one second before she ultimately had to be.
As she craned her neck, looking over her shoulder into the wardrobe mirror from what amounted to a torturous angle, Mirabella silently lectured herself that she was being paranoid. How could she look pregnant when she’d actually lost weight in the last month? Some women suffered from morning sickness, especially with their first baby. She found herself suffering from all day sickness. No matter how hard she tried to avoid it, she was on her knees in front of the porcelain bowl several times a day, purging more often than a partying frat boy during his first year away from home. Everything, even water, seemed to make her miserably nauseous these days.
The hardest part, she thought as she slid into her shoes and picked up her purse, was trying not to let her boss, Zane Colton, find out about her frequent communing with the bathroom. Fortunately, the wickedly good-looking man still hadn’t noticed.
She hoped to keep it that way.
As head of Colton Incorporated’s security, it wasn’t as if he was chained to his desk. The man clearly liked being on his feet and active, using any excuse to leave his office and get out both on the floor and into the field. He looked the most pensive and restless when necessity had him spending time at his desk, dealing with end of the month paperwork—even if that “paper” was on the computer.
But even with all the hours he spent away from his office, it was only a matter of time before he’d begin to notice just how often she was away from her own desk. Her desk was situated directly in front of his office, so, coming and going, the man couldn’t miss seeing her—unless she wasn’t there.
As far as bosses went, she thought, locking her front door, Zane was in a class by himself. Leaving aside the fact that the man was as good-looking as they came, with over half the women in the top two floors of the twenty-five-story glass office tower madly in love with him, Zane Colton was not a demanding boss. He was easygoing and completely devoid of an ego, even though he would have been more than justified having one.
He didn’t act like a man who had anything to prove to anyone, except for possibly himself. And best of all, he didn’t throw his weight around, the way some others did. She was extremely happy to be Zane Colton’s administrative assistant and she wasn’t about to jeopardize that for the world.
While
