Im engaged to you?
A Coltons of Red Ridge story
When Quinn Colton is injured in an explosion, undercover FBI agent West Brand is devastated. Not only is she unable to recognize him, her secret fiancé, but everything the two of them hold dear is in danger. Together, they investigate the incident that caused her amnesia and track a killer. But can West convince Quinn that their happily-ever-after is still on the horizon?
New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author BONNIE VANAK is passionate about romance novels and telling stories. A former newspaper reporter, she worked as a journalist for a large international charity for several years, traveling to countries such as Haiti to report on the sufferings of the poor. Bonnie lives in Florida with her husband, Frank, and is a member of Romance Writers of America. She loves to hear from readers. She can be reached through her website, bonnievanak.com.
Also by Bonnie Vanak
Navy SEAL Seduction
Shielded by the Cowboy SEAL
Navy SEAL Protector
The Shadow Wolf
The Covert Wolf
Phantom Wolf
Demon Wolf
The Empath
Enemy Lover
Immortal Wolf
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk
His Forgotten Colton Fianceé
Bonnie Vanak
www.millsandboon.co.uk
HIS FORGOTTEN COLTON FIANCEÉ
© 2018 Harlequin Books S.A.
Published in Great Britain 2018
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollins Publishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
All rights reserved including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. This edition is published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, locations and incidents are purely fictional and bear no relationship to any real life individuals, living or dead, or to any actual places, business establishments, locations, events or incidents. Any resemblance is entirely coincidental.
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Version: 2020-03-02
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In memory of Sissy. Love you.
Miss you and your smile and your laughter.
Sissys Creole Chicken
Recipe by Glenna Sissy Fischer
3 ½ pounds of chicken
1 clove garlic
6 slices bacon
½ pound of ham, diced
2 small onions, chopped
2 cups drained canned tomatoes
1 tablespoon chopped parsley
1/8 teaspoon Tabasco sauce
½ teaspoon thyme
2 teaspoons salt
2 cups boiling water
2 cups cooked sliced okra
Directions
Wash, clean chicken and cut into serving pieces. Rub skin side of each chicken piece with cut side of garlic clove. Place bacon in cold Dutch oven or a heavy frying pan and cook until crisp. Remove and crumble. Add the chicken to the Dutch oven or the pan, brown on all sides and then remove.
Add ham, onions, brown lightly. Then add the bacon, chicken, tomatoes, parsley, Tabasco sauce, thyme, salt and water.
Cover, reduce heat to low. Cook 3060 minutes or until chicken is tender. Add the cooked okra the last ten minutes. Serves eight.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
About the Author
Booklist
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Extract
About the Publisher
Chapter 1
Wedding cake and bombs.
Two thoughts sped through FBI agent West Brands mind as he jogged along the main street leading out of Red Ridge. Chocolate rum cake with vanilla frosting and swirls of delicate pink flowers. And bombs made out of materials as easy to find as cake.
The cake, he didnt care about, but he wanted to make Quinn Colton happy. She was a real foodie and, as a caterer, weddings were her specialty. Hed be happy to eat a cake made from sprouts when they got married.
When they could risk a wedding. Red Ridge had a serial killer lurking, a psycho killing grooms right before their weddings. The MO was always the same: bullet through the heart, black cummerbund stuffed in the victims mouth. Several men had been murdered. And with the Groom Killer still out there, he and Quinn had decided to keep their newly engaged status quiet, along with their relationship.
For now, he had to focus on bombs. His cop instinct tingled, warning things were too damn quiet and the tension in the city was about to explode.
High-powered explosives were Wests specialty. He preferred to work alone and being on loan to the Red Ridge Police Departments K-9 unit hadnt changed his mind. Wests partner of choice ran on four legs.
Cool air washed over him as he ran, the darkness pierced by the green glow of his sport-utility watch. Rex, his black Labrador retriever, kept pace alongside him. West always took him on his daily jogs.
Breath fogging the air, he let his thoughts drift to the missing fifty-five-gallon drum of highly concentrated hydrogen peroxide from a chemical warehouse in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. The owner had reported it missing two days ago.
Even though there had been no other bombings reported in the area, all Wests instincts had gone full red flag.
Peroxide-based explosives presented a deadlier threat than ordinary C-4, which was much harder to obtain. Unstable chemical compounds brought the risk of blowing yourself up as you mixed and packed the ingredients, and quite possibly blowing up your unsuspecting neighbors, as well. Terrorists preferred the risk because they could easily purchase the ingredients without raising eyebrows or alerting the feds. Gone were the days when materials had to be smuggled past the eyes of authorities. These days, a kid could waltz into a grocery store and make a bomb with soda pop and nail polish remover.
The bad guys made it harder to do his job and keep people safe. So he kept learning and listening and reading, because long ago, he determined no one would ever die on his watch.
Not again, like when he was seventeen...
Dont go there. Focus. Did a daydreaming clerk misplace the drum or did someone steal it to make a bomb?
Red Ridge wasnt the type of town that saw the same kind of terrorist bombings as big cities. Hed bet that Dean Landon, the canine explosives specialist who was out on medical leave, had seldom seen many bombings in town. He was replacing Landon until the officer recovered from an injury and then it would be back to the city for him.
Maybe. Something else he had to discuss with his future wife.
He and Rex turned a corner down a dirt road toward the boarded-up building that once served as a hardware store. The store marked his three-mile turning point. As West started past the building and prepared to turn, Rex stopped.
The dog stared at the building.
Whoa. He jogged in place, frowning as he squinted at the building in the inky darkness. Dim light from the nearly full moon showed ghostly shadows, thick weeds and brush, and a rotting wood storefront with a few two-by-fours hammered over the windows.
The abandoned building sat on the edge of town, a scrubby cousin to the sleeker Main Street buildings with their shiny windows, trim doors and flower boxes. It fitted in with Rusty Coltons nearby dive bar that reeked of stale beer, tobacco and dark thoughts.
He glanced down at Rex, the Labradors nose pointing at the storefront, his body tense and alert. Then the dog sat down.
West clenched his gut. Rex had found something. Specially trained to sniff out bombs, the dog sat when he smelled suspicious odors.
Though hed worked with Rex for three months and spent each day training with him, he still remained wary. Maybe Rex saw something interesting. Or he smelled something fascinating, like a dead rodent.
What is it? he asked Rex.
The dog kept staring at the building.
Could be anything. Hell, even a ghost. Sure was eerie enough on this end of town, the sad, lonely building desolate and abandoned. Maybe a homeless person decided to camp there for the night and Rex sensed that.
The watch he wore on his right wrist insisted he had to get his butt back now into town in order to leave Quinns place before the nosy townspeople started opening their shops. Last thing he needed was a gossip prattling on about how the FBI canine agent on loan to the RRPD was seen sneaking out of Good Eats, Quinn Coltons catering shop.
If he investigated, hed be late. West swept his gaze over the buildings exterior as he squinted in the dark. Heart racing from the run, he looked again at Rex.
Still sitting. Still alert.
That was it. West reached for his gun tucked into a leather holster at his side and prepared to go closer.
A flash of movement in the darkness. He tensed as something rattled inside the building.
A scrawny black-and-white tabby cat squeezed underneath one of the boards on the window, looked at them. It hissed at Rex, and then sped off in the direction of town.
Still, it was best to check it out. West did a quick patrol around the building, saw and heard nothing. He glanced down at Rex, who whined, his tail beating the dirt.