Guarding Colton's Child Read online

  He ran his gaze over her face, noting her tired eyes and slightly mussed hair. “And how are you?”

  Desiree lifted one shoulder in a shrug. “Better, I think. My head isn’t quite so fuzzy now. But I still feel like I could sleep for a month.” She let out a short humorless laugh. “I guess that’s just motherhood though, right?”

  Stavros didn’t reply. He remembered that exhaustion, the bone-deep fatigue that seemed endless. He’d thought the punishing schedule of med school and intern year had prepared him for the rigors of parenthood. But becoming a father had worn him out in ways he’d never imagined possible.

  Desiree made a small choked sound and he glanced up to find her watching him, a distressed look on her face. “I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I shouldn’t have...”

  * * *

  The Coltons of Grave Gulch: Falling in love is the most dangerous thing of all...

  * * *

  If you’re on Twitter, tell us what you think of Harlequin Romantic Suspense! #harlequinromsuspense

  Dear Reader,

  This is my seventh book featuring characters from the sprawling Colton family, and I’ve got to say, I always enjoy writing these stories! I love all the family intrigue and drama, and I hope you do, too!

  I have two young kids of my own, so my heart really went out to Desiree, the heroine of this book. Her life revolves around her toddler son, and when he’s threatened, she has to make some hard choices to keep him safe. Fortunately, Stavros has a protective streak a mile wide, and he’s not about to let anyone hurt this little boy. If only he could have saved his own child years ago...

  Danger, passion and a dash of mystery—this book has it all. Thanks so much for coming on these adventures with me—I couldn’t do it without you!

  Stay well!

  Lara

  GUARDING

  COLTON’S CHILD

  Lara Lacombe

  Lara Lacombe earned a PhD in microbiology and immunology and worked in several labs across the country before moving into the classroom. Her day job as a college science professor gives her time to pursue her other love—writing fast-paced romantic suspense with smart, nerdy heroines and dangerously attractive heroes. She loves to hear from readers! Find her on the web or contact her at [email protected].

  Books by Lara Lacombe

  Harlequin Romantic Suspense

  The Coltons of Grave Gulch

  Guarding Colton’s Child

  The Rangers of Big Bend

  Ranger’s Justice

  Ranger’s Baby Rescue

  The Ranger’s Reunion Threat

  Ranger’s Family in Danger

  The Coltons of Mustang Valley

  Colton’s Undercover Reunion

  Deadly Contact

  Fatal Fallout

  Lethal Lies

  Killer Exposure

  Killer Season

  Visit the Author Profile page at

  Harlequin.com for more titles.

  For Opa, who has the best stories.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Excerpt from Her Unlikely Protector by Regan Black

  Chapter 1

  Where had all these people come from?

  Desiree Colton frowned as she watched a seemingly endless stream of people file into the ballroom. They came from every direction, a calm procession of smiling faces stopping here and there to mill about in groups. The noise level in the room rose considerably as the buzz of conversation hit a dull roar. She scanned these new arrivals, hoping to recognize someone, but they were all strangers.

  Desiree turned to her cousin, hoping Melissa would know what was going on. As chief of police in Grave Gulch, Melissa usually had her finger on the pulse of the community. But all Desiree saw was the back of her cousin’s head as she walked away.

  Strange.

  A loud, grating laugh pierced the air, making the hairs on the back of Desiree’s neck stand at attention. She froze, unease melting into a growing sense of panic as she scanned the room.

  Where was Danny?

  “Danny?” She called out for her son as she began to walk through the room, sidestepping people who leaned into her path. No one touched her, but moving through the crowd was claustrophobic and her chest felt tight.

  “Danny!” Desiree heard the panic in her own voice, but she didn’t care. She had to find her son.

  The crowd parted and she saw the broad shoulders and strong back of her brother, Troy. Relief washed over her; Troy and Danny were great pals. He probably had the little boy in his arms and was beaming with his usual avuncular pride as he showed him off to anyone who looked their way.

  Desiree walked over to her brother and touched his arm. “Troy, I’m so glad to see you.”

  He turned and gave her a smile. “Hey, Dez. What a party, huh?” He gestured to the crowd with his beer bottle.

  But Desiree didn’t follow his gaze. Her muscles locked up, panic rendering her unable to move.

  “Where’s Danny?” He was supposed to be with Troy, but her brother’s arms were terrifyingly empty.

  Troy shrugged. “I’m sure he’s around. I passed him off to Palmer. He said something about showing Danny the horses.”

  Desiree shook her head. “What horses? There are no horses here!”

  But Troy didn’t respond. He turned away, melting into the crowd the same way Melissa had.

  Desiree screamed her son’s name, her voice rising above the din of music and conversation. She knelt down, hoping to find her boy hiding under one of the long tablecloths that draped over the edges of the tables. But he was nowhere to be seen.

  Desiree’s skin flushed as adrenaline pumped through her body. She had to find her baby. But how?

  The crowd moved as one, everyone turning to face her. She tried to move, but was surrounded by a wall of bodies. Desperate, she flailed against them, slapping and kicking in a bid to break through. But her blows proved ineffective, and the people closest to her showed no response to her struggle.

  “Danny!” she screamed.

  Melissa suddenly appeared in front of her, a stiff smile frozen on her face.

  “Danny’s gone,” Desiree said. But even as she spoke the words, she knew her cousin wasn’t listening.

  Desiree turned away from Melissa, frantically scanning the crowd for any signs of her boy.

  “Danny!”

  * * *

  Desiree shot up in bed, arms outstretched as she reached for her son. She blinked in the darkness, confusion slowly giving way to awareness as she recognized the familiar shadows of her bedroom.

  Her panicked heaving gradually slowed to calmer breaths, her body no longer feeling starved for oxygen. She sank back onto her pillow and raised a hand to her forehead. “It was a dream,” she whispered into the still room. “Only a dream.”

  Danny was here, safe in his bedroom. They were together, as they should be. Everything was fine.

  Desiree knew it was the truth, but the ever-present knot of tension in her stomach remained. Her world had flipped upside down four months ago, when Danny had been kidnapped. And even though her son had quickly been found safe and sound, she hadn’t gotten over the experience. Would she ever? Was it possible for a mother to t
ruly let go of the bone-deep terror that came from missing her child?

  Something inside her had undergone a fundamental shift, and Desiree recognized she was never going to be the same again. Some days, she missed the carefree ignorance she’d once enjoyed, that lack of suspicion that now clouded her every encounter with a stranger. Every smile directed at Danny, every comment like “Oh, he’s so cute,” which she’d once taken at face value, was now a potential threat. It was exhausting, living in this hypervigilant state. But Desiree couldn’t seem to stop.

  Logically, she knew that the odds of Danny being kidnapped again were infinitesimally small. Really, the only reason he’d been taken in the first place was because Hannah McPherson had been desperate to prove that her granddaughter, Everleigh Emerson, was innocent of murder. The old woman had picked up Danny during a wedding reception at the Grave Gulch Hotel and simply walked out. She hadn’t hurt him in any way; quite the opposite, in fact. She’d taken him home, fed him a snack and rocked him while he watched cartoons until he’d fallen asleep in her arms.

  Still, the event haunted Desiree. And, worse, it seemed to be happening again.

  Just last week, another woman had tried to walk off with Danny when they were at the playground. Desiree had been talking to Dominique de la Vega, a reporter for the Grave Gulch Gazette. Dominique was working on a story that involved looking in to Randall Bowe, the forensic scientist who’d abused his role to corrupt evidence and frame several people. Danny’s kidnapping back in January and the subsequent reevaluation of Everleigh’s case had revealed Bowe’s misconduct, and Dominique had been pressing to talk to Desiree about the whole thing. She’d finally relented, agreeing to meet at the park where she’d just spotted Randall Bowe skulking about.

  It had been a beautiful day, bright and sunny, the temperature perfect. She and Dominique had sat on one of the benches near the playground, so Desiree could keep an eye on Danny while he ran around.

  That was when it had happened.

  Danny had moved to the other side of the slide, in pursuit of a bug. Desiree could still see him, but her phone had starting buzzing. She’d reached into her cavernous bag, searching for the device.

  At that moment, Danny screamed. Desiree looked up to see him tucked under the arm of a woman in a straw hat.

  Desiree had jumped to her feet and yelled for Danny. She’d started running to get to her son, dodging other kids and play equipment along the way. Before she got too close, the woman glanced over her shoulder and dropped Danny, then took off running. Desiree had wanted to follow as the woman disappeared into the trees at the end of the park, but no way was she going to risk leaving her son behind to do it. Instead, she’d scooped him up into her shaking arms and taken him back to the bench while she called the police.

  Who was that woman? And why had she tried to walk away with Danny?

  Desiree was certain she’d seen her once more since the playground, lurking at the grocery store. No hat, but same sunglasses. Once again, she’d disappeared before Desiree could confront her.

  Was she being followed? Or was Danny the target?

  GGPD were aware of the near miss at the playground. But, really, the officers couldn’t spend all their time looking for a woman who hadn’t succeeded in committing a crime.

  Yet.

  Guilt and worry plagued Desiree, night and day. Bad enough Danny had been snatched once. But a second time? How could she have let that happen? What kind of mother took her eyes off her child, gave a stranger the opportunity to walk away with them?

  “A human one,” Melissa had said, on more than one occasion. “You’re only human, Dez. It’s okay to make mistakes.”

  But Desiree couldn’t bring herself to agree. A mistake was forgetting to take the garbage to the curb on trash day. What she’d done had put her son’s life in danger. It was only thanks to the fast-acting work of the Grave Gulch police and Hannah’s gentle nature that Danny was still okay. And, fortunately, this stranger—whoever she was—hadn’t escalated her behavior.

  In the end, maybe that was all that mattered. Danny was fine. At twenty-three months old, he was far too young to really remember the events of four months ago, much less be permanently affected by them. That was a gift. Desiree would be dealing with this near miss for the rest of her life, but it was a small price to pay, given how much worse things could have been.

  She closed her eyes, wondering if she’d be able to get back to sleep tonight. Sometimes, the nightmares left her awake until sunrise. Other nights, she could grab a few more hours of rest before the day started. Hopefully this was one of those times...

  “Mama.”

  It wasn’t a loud cry, but the sound of her son’s voice propelled Desiree from the bed. She could tell by his tone that something was wrong. This wasn’t a normal, middle-of-the-night wake-up. He needed her for more than a pat on the back and a lullaby.

  She forced herself to slow down before she entered Danny’s bedroom. If she flew in at top speed, it would only scare him. So she gently opened the door and stepped inside, greeting him softly in the glow of his night-light.

  “Hey, baby. Mama’s here.”

  Danny was sitting up in his crib, rubbing his eyes with small fists. At the sound of her voice, he looked up and started to wail.

  “Oh, sweetie, it’s okay. I’ve got you.” Desiree reached down and picked him up.

  As soon as she felt his body against her chest, she knew he had a fever. And not a mild one, either—the boy was burning up.

  Alarm spiked in her belly as she carried him into the kitchen. Keeping the lights off, she retrieved the digital thermometer and pressed it to his forehead. The green light of the display switched to an angry red, and a warning beep sounded.

  104.3 degrees.

  “Not good,” she muttered, patting Danny’s back gently. He was crying in earnest now, and his voice sounded hoarse. Desiree quickly filled a sippy cup with cold water and handed it to him, hoping he would drink. He took one sip and started screaming.

  Her heart pounded hard as she carried him back to the bedroom and grabbed her cell phone. She called his pediatrician’s office, and while waiting for the night nurse to answer, she took him to the bathroom and ran a washcloth under the tap. He squirmed when she pressed it to the back of his neck, but she held it in place.

  After what seemed like an eternity, the night nurse came on the line. Desiree told her what was going on as she walked back to her bedroom.

  “Take him to the ER,” the woman told her. “You need to get that fever down as soon as possible.”

  “Should I try to give him medicine first?”

  “If he won’t take water, he won’t take medicine,” the nurse replied. “Don’t waste time. Just go in now and they can give him medication when you arrive.”

  Desiree ended the call and placed Danny on her bed. His screaming intensified, but she needed her hands free.

  “I’m sorry, honey. Mama just has to get dressed.”

  She grabbed a pair of pants and a shirt off the floor—both were wrinkled and needed a wash, but she couldn’t pretend to care. After throwing her hair back into a ponytail, she picked up her son again, threw her phone into her purse and snagged her keys.

  “Here we go, Danny,” she said, trying to keep her tone light as she carried him out to the car. “We’re going on an adventure.”

  He clung to her shirt, face buried against her chest as he continued to cry. The sound broke her heart and added to her worry. He was so hot—she’d never felt a body that warm before. It was unnatural and thoroughly terrifying.

  She loaded him into his car seat and draped the wet washcloth around the back of his neck. Tears streamed down his cheeks and dripped off his chin, and for a split second, Desiree considered holding him in her lap while she drove to the hospital. But, no, that wouldn’t be safe.

  Not for the first time, she
wished things had worked out differently between her and Danny’s father. It was a time like this she could have really used a second pair of hands to help. But that was not the reality of her life and wishing was a waste of time.

  She took a second to gently wipe Danny’s cheeks, then kissed his forehead. Her lips burned from the contact, adding fuel to her fear.

  Go, go, go!

  The panicked voice in her head urged her to move, and she closed the door and slipped into the driver’s seat.

  “It’s okay, baby,” she crooned, keeping her eyes on the image of her son in the rearview mirror as she pulled out of the driveway and set off down the street. “You’re going to be fine.”

  He has to be, she thought to herself as she raced along the empty roads, coasting through stop signs and running the lights at deserted intersections.

  The alternative was too unbearable to consider.

  * * *

  “Dr. Makris, you’ve got a new patient in room five.”

  Stavros Makris looked up from the computer screen, where he’d been working on charts. “What’s up?”

  The nurse glanced down at her notes. “Patient is a twenty-three-month-old male, temperature of one hundred and four degrees, pulse rate...”

  Stavros listened with half an ear, his heart stuck on the boy’s age.

  Twenty-three months.

  The same age as his daughter, Sammy, the last time he’d held her.

  For a brief second, he flashed back to that horrible night when his world had shattered and his life had irrevocably changed.

  Bright lights. Urgent voices. And his baby girl, lying motionless on the gurney.

  Stavros forced himself to breathe and focused on the nurse’s words, using all his willpower to snap out of his memories and tune back in. This boy wasn’t his child. He could still help.

  He listened as she finished her report. Thankfully, he hadn’t missed anything. Years of studying and experience practicing medicine meant that his mind was cataloging the pertinent details even while his heart was shaking off the past.