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Colton's Last Stand
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They’re both living a lie
But the passion between them is real
Undercover FBI agent Fiona Evans is determined to bring down a deadly cult. But the cult leader’s estranged son, Jake Anderson, warns her that she’s in danger of being targeted. Jake can’t believe he’s attracted to someone who could fall for his mother’s scam—until he suspects that Fiona is not what she seems. Then he discovers his secret ties to the Colton family... Can he trust anyone? Can he trust himself when the enemy chases them down?
“You still didn’t answer my question. Were you asked to come here and...”
“Get you to stay by using whatever means necessary?” Fiona sat down hard on the edge of the bed, dragging her hand through her long, thick dark hair. “Yes. Leigh used those exact words with me a little while ago.”
Jake’s heart sank. The rest of him still had not registered the stand-down order.
“But that’s not why I’m here,” she breathed, her eyes locked on his. “I’m here because I’m incredibly attracted to you. I want you, Jake Anderson. Nothing more than that.”
Every part of him wished he could believe her. He cleared his throat, willing away his unrepentant arousal. “Leave with me,” he told her, desperate to give her one more chance. “Let me take you away from here, get you some help. Then we might revisit this.”
“I can’t.” Her sensual mouth twisted. “I can’t leave. I have a very real reason for being here.”
“Then tell me.”
* * *
Book twelve of The Coltons of Mustang Valley
* * *
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Dear Reader,
I know I’ve said this before and I’ll say it again—I love the Coltons. This family, with all their locations and intrigue, has always fascinated me. Reading how they find love amid turmoil, murders and suspense is one of the highlights of my reading experience. Yours, too, I think! Working with all the other authors and the fabulous editors makes writing these stories a dream.
This story, the last of twelve books set in Mustang Valley, a fictional town in Arizona, had all my favorite things: a cult; a handsome, sexy rancher; an undercover female FBI agent; and suspense—lots of suspense. I so enjoyed telling Jake and Fiona’s story and wrapping up this particular installment of the Colton saga. I hope you are as entertained reading this book as I was writing it!
Karen Whiddon
COLTON’S LAST STAND
Karen Whiddon
Karen Whiddon started weaving fanciful tales for her younger brothers at the age of eleven. Amid the gorgeous Catskill Mountains, then the majestic Rocky Mountains, she fueled her imagination with the natural beauty surrounding her. Karen now lives in north Texas, writes full-time and volunteers for a boxer dog rescue. She shares her life with her hero of a husband and four to five dogs, depending on if she is fostering. You can email Karen at [email protected]. Fans can also check out her website, karenwhiddon.com.
Books by Karen Whiddon
Harlequin Romantic Suspense
The Coltons of Mustang Valley
Colton’s Last Stand
The CEO’s Secret Baby
The Cop’s Missing Child
The Millionaire Cowboy’s Secret
Texas Secrets, Lovers’ Lies
The Rancher’s Return
The Texan’s Return
Wyoming Undercover
The Texas Soldier’s Son
Texas Ranch Justice
Snowbound Targets
The Coltons of Roaring Springs
Colton’s Rescue Mission
The Coltons of Red Ridge
Colton’s Christmas Cop
The Coltons of Texas
Runaway Colton
The Coltons of Oklahoma
The Temptation of Dr. Colton
The Coltons: Return to Wyoming
A Secret Colton Baby
Visit the Author Profile page at
Harlequin.com for more titles.
Once again, this book is for my husband, Lonnie. He eagerly awaits each book release and reads every single one. I’m so happy to have him in my corner always.
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
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Excerpt from Dangerous Reunion by Marilyn Pappano
Chapter 1
For the first time in her life, undercover FBI agent Fiona Evans truly understood how someone became indoctrinated into a cult. Ever since arriving at the Affirmative Alliance Group center, she’d been bombarded by a relentless onslaught of information, all presented in such a smiling, feel-good, we-only-want-the-best-for-you way that she felt guilty asking for a break. There were seminars and classes, films and audio recordings that were piped into her room at night under the guise of helping her learn while she slept. The other members, so earnestly pleasant and cheerful, were supportive, telling her over and over again that they—and AAG’s founder, Micheline Anderson—only wanted to help her become the best person she could possibly be.
Luckily, Fiona considered herself strong and capable, well trained and not the slightest bit susceptible to either criticism or brainwashing. If she weren’t, even she might have bought in to the relentless indoctrination of nonsense by AAG.
Teeth aching from all the saccharine, Fiona smiled and nodded and pretended until she thought she would scream, which she did sometimes inside her head while smiling back at them.
Even Micheline, a woman Fiona thought of privately as the cult’s supreme ruler, went out of her way to show an interest in her group’s newest arrival, sending a personal note of welcome along with fresh flowers. “An honor,” whispered Leigh Dennings, one of Micheline’s protégées. “So rare. True proof of how special you are.”
With difficulty, Fiona kept from snorting at that. Gullible she wasn’t, though she definitely wanted Leigh and the others to believe she was. In fact, she’d taken great care to make sure she appeared to be exactly the kind of vulnerable person they sought out as recruits. They’d found her, destitute and alone, on the streets of Mustang Valley, asking where she might find a shelter to get a free meal.
Instead, one of the AAG members had found her and taken her to its lovely and welcoming center, ten miles from downtown Mustang Valley. It had a long, tree-lined dirt drive leading in from the main road, an always open, hunter-green gate, and big potted plants in front. Fiona had stared at the woodsy, yet fancy log cabin exterior, large triangular roof over two sprawling stories, before being led into the large, open lobby. She’d been served complimentary beverages and a light lunch and told someone would be out to speak with her soon.
Affirmative Alliance Group had been founded forty years ago by Micheline Anderson, formerly known as Luella Smith. Ever since the FBI had been given an anonymous tip hinting Micheline’s involvement in numerous crimes, including money laundering, they’d researched her. A gifted nurse, Micheline promoted herself as a healer and self-help guru. These days, her followers numbered in the hundreds of thousands, most of those via the internet. Locally, members were only in the hundreds, most of those living in their own homes. Only
about twenty people lived in the AAG center full-time, mostly Micheline and her inner circle as well as new recruits who were in the process of being converted.
Like me, Fiona thought grimly. She’d bear it—she had to. As long as she kept her eyes on the big picture, the reason she’d come here, she would survive.
Trying to grab some alone time, Fiona hurried from the crowded room where she’d just attended yet another seminar on becoming your best you—or some variation thereof—and rushed toward the ladies’ room. She’d learned early on that around here, the only place they’d leave you alone was either in the shower or the toilet.
Just as she reached the door, someone grabbed her arm.
“I’ve been looking for you!” Leigh gushed. “You’re not going to believe who asked about you.”
With difficulty, Fiona kept from rolling her eyes. “Micheline?” she guessed.
Clearly astonished, Leigh giggled. “Wow, you are amazing. Smart as well as lovely. Come with me. Micheline asked me to bring you around to talk with her.”
Though Fiona actually considered refusing, she reminded herself of her task and nodded. For such a petite and delicate person, Leigh kept an awfully firm grip on Fiona’s arm as she steered her down a long hallway, through some double doors marked Private and into a part of the center where Fiona had never been.
Here, plush carpet softened their footsteps to a hush. Elegant mahogany tables displayed expensive-looking vases and statues, matched with clearly valuable artwork hung under muted lighting. Fiona felt as if she’d left the Old West and stepped into the corporate offices of some über-rich CEO.
Giving herself a mental shake, she made a show of gaping around her at everything all at once. Seeing, Leigh laughed, the sound like bells tinkling. “It’s something else, isn’t it? I remember the first time I saw it. I was overwhelmed, too.”
They stopped in front of an intricately carved mahogany double door. Spine straight, like a soldier standing at attention, Leigh knocked three times, the staccato sound sharp.
“Come in.” A warm voice, inviting confidences. Micheline Anderson. Finally. Playing the role of everyone’s friend. Fiona’s gut tightened. Funny, in this place, her gut was the only thing she trusted.
Stepping inside, Fiona eyed Leigh, half expecting her to bow. Instead, Leigh murmured something that sounded like, “Here you are,” and turned to leave.
“Wait.” With a benevolent smile, the leader of the AAG waved Leigh to a chair. “You may have a seat also, Fiona,” she offered, making it sound as if Fiona actually had a choice.
“We are to have a special visitor this afternoon.” Bright blue eyes sparkling, Micheline pushed back a strand of her well-coiffed blond hair. “My son, Jake. I haven’t seen him for twenty-three years. I would appreciate if both of you helped in making sure he feels welcome.”
Immediately, Leigh nodded. “Will do,” she chirped. “If you could provide me with some sort of list of his likes and dislikes, I’ll have staff get to work immediately.”
Micheline’s broad smile faltered. Just a tad before she had it firmly back in place. “Honestly, I have no idea. The last time I saw him, he was only seventeen.”
Fiona looked from one woman to another. “I’m sorry, but I have no idea why you wanted to talk to me.”
Leigh snapped her head around to eye Fiona, her perfect brow creased in a frown. But then, so quickly Fiona wasn’t sure if she might have imagined it, Leigh smoothed her expression in a return to the ever-pleasant, eager-to-please beauty queen she was. “Patience, Fiona,” she said, folding her hands neatly in her lap.
Micheline watched them interact with the same compassion that had endeared her to her followers. A slight smile curved her red-painted lips as she waited. “You’re new here,” she told Fiona. “Tell me, what do you think of the AAG?”
Heart skipping a beat, for a split second, Fiona found herself at a loss for words. She recovered quickly, remembering all the hours of intensive research she’d put in. “It’s a bit overwhelming at times,” she volunteered softly. “I can see so much happiness, so much good. I’m just not sure I could ever be worthy of belonging.” There. Textbook. No doubt exactly the sort of thing Micheline had hoped she would say.
“Of course you’re worthy,” Micheline purred. “I see great potential in you. Which is why I’m going to assign you to my son. Show him around, keep him company while I’m in meetings, and make sure he has a good time.”
“She’s giving you a great honor,” Leigh prodded when Fiona remained silent.
Not sure how she felt about this, Fiona pasted a smile on her face and nodded. Best to play along. “Thank you, ma’am,” she stammered, hoping she appeared dazed enough. Her role was to play a grateful and zealous convert while obtaining concrete proof of even one of the crimes Micheline was suspected of being involved in. She already had substantive leads on Micheline’s varied schemes, including running a fake marriage counseling center outside town, and scamming people out of money with phony self-help seminars.
Apparently, she did. Micheline leaned back in her chair, her expression satisfied. “You and Leigh will meet him when he gets here. He’s driving down from northern Arizona, and I expect him sometime between two and three.” With that said, she picked up a stack of papers from her desk and began reading through them, a clear dismissal.
“Come on.” Leigh took Fiona’s arm. “Let’s go up to your room and see if we can find you something suitable to wear.”
Allowing herself to be led away, Fiona glanced down at her fashionably torn jeans. “What’s wrong with what I have on?” she asked.
Leigh only shook her head.
Once they reached Fiona’s room on the second floor, Leigh followed her inside. “Micheline has great plans for you,” she announced the moment the door closed.
Every instinct on alert, Fiona turned. “Really? What kind of plans?”
“She’s grooming you to become a welcome coordinator like me, to help find people just like yourself who need help and could use the AAG’s warm and welcoming family.”
“Wow.” Pretending to be awestruck, Fiona waited to hear the catch. One thing she’d picked up early on here was that AAG did nothing out of the simple goodness of its hearts. It was all about getting money out of its followers.
“Wow is right,” Leigh gushed. “She wants you to focus on Mustang Valley College. Mainly on one particularly lonely, wealthy freshman named Theodore Royce the Third, whose money hasn’t brought him happiness.”
“But AAG will,” Fiona finished, her tone bright, even though her stomach churned.
“Of course. He’s already sought us out, attended a few seminars and talking to one of our counselors. You will take over for her.” Leigh had begun riffling through Fiona’s closet. “You don’t have many dresses.”
Fiona crossed her arms. “I’m not really a dress-up kind of person.”
“Why not? You’re so pretty and you have an amazing body,” Leigh gushed. “Why not use that to your best advantage and show it off to prospective members? How do you think I became Miss Mustang Valley?”
Weighing her options, Fiona decided to play along. “Such an amazing accomplishment.”
“It is, isn’t it?” Leigh wrinkled her nose. “Now I’m going to help you. We’re going to do a makeover.”
“When?”
“Right now, silly.” Patting the desk chair, Leigh picked up Fiona’s admittedly small makeup bag and looked through it. “This won’t do at all,” Leigh muttered. “I’ll be right back.”
And she dashed off, leaving Fiona staring after her. A moment later, Leigh returned, carrying a much larger makeup case. “I want you to pay close attention to what I do,” Leigh instructed her. “So that you can replicate the look on your own. I’ll let you borrow some of my makeup even, since I have tons more.”
As Leigh began rummaging through
her stuff, Fiona put her hand on the other woman’s arm to stop her. “What’s the point?” she asked, honestly bewildered. “Why are you having me change the way I look?”
Batting her long—surely false—eyelashes, Leigh sighed. “To help you attract Jake, Micheline’s son. No offense, but Micheline feels you might need just a little help in that department. And I agree with her.”
“Attract Micheline’s son?” Fiona felt as if they’d entered an alternate universe. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Because he’s quite the catch, I hear.” Leigh leaned closer, meeting Fiona’s gaze directly. “And Micheline has given her blessing.”
Ewww. Creepy. Wisely, Fiona kept these thoughts to herself. Everything Micheline Anderson did had a reason. So what hidden motive might be behind her using Fiona as bait for her son?
“You’re a beautiful woman, Fiona,” Leigh continued, not noticing. “But honestly, you present yourself as stern and serious and strong. Men don’t like that sort of thing, you know.”
Resisting the urge to gape at the other woman, Fiona widened her eyes instead. “I’m proud of being strong,” she said quietly. “And any man who doesn’t like that doesn’t need to be hanging around me.”
Her comment had Leigh giggling. “You’re so funny.” Even though Fiona hadn’t been joking. “Now sit still and let me show you how to enhance what the universe gave you.”
Fiona sighed. Why not? If this was the worst thing that happened to her while here, then she’d take it. Though she already knew how to apply makeup, it’d be interesting to get Leigh’s take.
She sat unmoving while Leigh, humming tunelessly under her breath, applied foundation, blush and powder before moving on to her eyebrows. Fiona didn’t balk until Leigh came after her with a pair of spidery-looking false eyelashes.
“Please.” Fiona held up her hand to ward her off. “How about we just use mascara?”
“They’re magnetic,” Leigh explained, as if that made all the difference in the world. “I just put a little bit of special eyeliner on you and they’d attach right to it.”