Colton Christmas Protector (The Coltons of Texas #12)(54)



“I... Yeah. I think so. Don’t you?”

“Then this isn’t some kind of a guilt trip over Andrew? I mean, we were never close before I married Andrew, so why now? What’s changed?” She pushed away from him, angling her body so she could face him and see his expression. “I appreciate that you’re here now, that you’ve done so much to help me these past few weeks, but...what about later? A year from now? Ten years?”

She looked deep into the blue stare that met hers, knowing if she looked into his eyes she would see the truth.

And what she saw was his hesitation, his own conflict and uncertainty.

“I don’t have a crystal ball, Pen. I can’t say what will happen ten years from now.”

Her heart sank, and she pushed to her feet, blinking back the sting of tears. “Thank you,” she said, “for being honest.”

She left him sitting on the couch as she’d found him—alone and staring into near space with a frown clouding his countenance.

Although she was disappointed, perhaps even a little heartbroken, at least she knew where she stood with Reid. His answer was the reality check she needed to help her rein in her feelings, which had taken a dangerous detour she could now correct. Reid Colton was still Reid Colton—an ultra-rich, well-meaning playboy who could never give her the kind of lifelong love and commitment she needed. No matter how much she wanted him.





Chapter 15

“Excuse me, Mr. Barrington,” Hugh’s secretary said via his desk intercom a few days later, “Fowler Colton to see you.”

Fowler Colton?

Hugh grimaced, a gut reflex, conditioned over the past several years of his dealing with Eldridge’s oldest son. He drummed his fingers on his desk, trying to come up with an excuse not to see the president of Colton Inc.

If a smarmier, more contemptible bastard ever existed... Hugh stopped himself midthought. He actually could name a few people in league with Fowler. Eldridge was up there. And if he were honest, his business associates and clients might say he himself was a pretty wretched bastard—if they knew the truth about him. Which he’d gone to great lengths to prevent.

A sharp, painful tightness gripped his chest when he thought of the contract he’d put out on Penelope and Reid Colton. He didn’t want to get rid of his daughter. But he had to protect his self-interests at all costs. His schemes and behind-the-scenes machinations couldn’t be discovered. If he were sent to prison, he’d—

“Mr. Barrington? Shall I send in Mr. Colton?” Ethyl repeated, interrupting his thoughts.

With a mental groan, he replied, “Tell him I—”

His office door burst open, and Fowler Colton boldly strode in. “Tell me yourself, Hugh. My family has been your best client for years. I won’t be put off like some two-bit car accident injury complainant.”

Hugh shot to his feet, straightening his tie and plastering on his most ingratiating smile. “Of course, Fowler. I was going to say, ‘Tell him to come right in.’”

Acid churned in his gut, not only from the prospect of dealing with Fowler, but also from the wearisome act of kowtowing to the high-and-mighty Coltons after all his efforts of recent months to put them in their place. He waved a hand toward one of two wingback chairs that faced his desk at angles. After offering his unwanted guest both coffee and whiskey, and having both declined, Hugh asked, “What can I do for you?”

Fowler doffed his trademark Stetson and set it on one chair before unbuttoning his suit coat and taking a seat in the second. “Well, it’s pretty simple, Hugh.”

Hugh gritted his teeth, irritated by being addressed so casually by someone young enough to be his son. What ever happened to good old-fashioned Texas manners? Even as a precocious, uppity child, Fowler had lacked respect for his elders and called most adults by their first name. Because he’d always been taller than his age group and had cold, pale, calculating eyes, Fowler had gotten away with more than most children, even those of the Colton brood.

“In light of the terms of Eldridge’s will, which left you a controlling share in Colton Inc., we need to make sure we are on the same page. And while that burned body proved not to be Eldridge, one day we will have to bury Eldridge, and knowing his last wishes in his will leaves me with a choice. Comply with Father’s wishes or make waves.” Fowler pressed his mouth into a frown. “I’m here to express my willingness to work with you for the best interests of the company.”

Hugh worked to mask his surprise. Controlling share of Colton Inc. The family had bought his lie? Hugh’s heart rate accelerated, and he gripped the arms of his chair to keep from fidgeting and giving himself away. He cleared the nervous thickness from his throat and said, “Thank you. I appreciate your cooperation and support. I know how difficult the past few months have been for the family.”

“Do you?” Fowler asked, arching one thick brown eyebrow. His pale blue eyes seemed especially cunning. Or was that just a trick of light? Or Hugh’s guilty conscience?

He chose to ignore Fowler’s challenge. “I look forward to putting the troublesome days behind us and moving forward together. There is no reason Colton Inc., under our joint leadership, cannot continue to thrive and be a profitable company for many years to come.”

Fowler’s expression said he wasn’t happy about losing control of his family business, but Hugh hadn’t expected anything else. “You do understand, though, that until we can confirm Eldridge’s death or have the court declare him to be presumed dead, the will is not yet in effect.”

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