Callaway Country - Annette Broadrick Mills & Boon Silhouette

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      Prologue

      Racing black clouds streamed across the sky, blotting out the little light that came from the sliver of moon. A moisture-laden silence hung over the small Texas border town, occasionally interrupted by the desultory bark of a bored dog.

      The narrow streets were empty of traffic. No one stirred outside the tiny houses clustered along the bluff overlooking the Rio Grande, the river that separated Texas from Mexico.

      A sudden explosion ripped through the somnolent atmosphere, shattering the sleepy peacefulness of the small community. Fire tore through a huge factory-warehouse on the edge of town. Flames colored the night with an orange glow.

      The people poured out of their homes and raced to see what could be done to save the only business in town, a business that had kept the local population from starving. They soon realized there was nothing they could do but watch the business, along with their futures, go up in billowing clouds of black smoke.

      At the same time that the factory on the border was destroyed, other explosions occurred—in an office building in downtown Dallas, on an offshore drilling rig in the Gulf of Mexico, and in an oil equipment warehouse in east Texas.

      There was only one thing these locations had in common—they were part of Callaway Enterprises, a conglomerate owned and operated by members of the Callaway family.

      The message was clear. Someone had declared war on the Callaways.

      Chapter 1

      When the family decided to throw a party, they went all out, Clay Callaway thought as he paused just inside the doorway of the Grand Ballroom of the Anatole Hotel.

      It was the Texas way, after all.

      Everything glittered, from the giant chandeliers with their dazzling crystal pendants to the multitude of diamonds and other precious gems draped around the necks and wrists of the glamorous women who were attending the gala benefit in Dallas, Texas.

      This little shindig would let the world know that there was solidarity in the family. Whenever trouble struck, the Callaways circled their wagons and unloaded their arsenal.

      Tonight was the first salvo.

      The melody from the song “We Are Family” kept running through his head as he spotted various members of the clan strategically placed at tables around the mammoth room, brushing elbows with the nationally elite in social, business and political circles. There were more than a few famous faces from the entertainment field, as well.

      Clay wasn’t supposed to be there, but someone with a great deal of clout had managed to get him pulled off his overseas assignment with his Special Forces unit. Yesterday, he’d received orders to come to Texas and to be available for this evening. He’d barely managed to get here in time for the benefit and was a little annoyed at the abrupt change in his assignment.

      It wasn’t that Clay didn’t want to help out whenever and wherever he was needed. Once he’d been informed of the problems the family was having, he was willing to do whatever he could to resolve the problem.

      What ate at him was the fact that circumstances had conspired against him, forcing him to return to his home state. He’d successfully managed to avoid the area for years. Too many memories were triggered whenever he returned home, memories he’d been able to avoid until now.

      Clay mentally acknowledged his cowardice in making certain that he did not arrive at the party alone.

      “Quite a collection of friends your family has,” his date laughingly said in a seductively low voice.

      Clay glanced down at Melanie Montez and grinned. She had no idea how grateful he was that she’d accepted his last-minute invitation to meet him in Dallas tonight.

      She was one delectably sexy woman without any effort on her part—and her efforts tonight had his body humming. Granted, he’d been without a woman for much too long, but Mel would have a monk questioning his celibacy vows…and he sure wasn’t a monk.

      She glowed with excitement and anticipation. He wished he could feel the same way. Although his appearance tonight was a command performance, he had to admit that Mel would be an enticing consolation prize at the end of the evening.

      Clay had met Melanie two years ago in Istanbul during one of his weekend liberties. She’d been there because she’d had a small part in a movie being shot in Europe that summer. They were staying at the same hotel. Once they discovered they were both Texans far from home, the two of them had struck up a conversation that had evolved into a friendship he’d grown to treasure.

      Because his available time was limited—as was hers—it was a rare treat for him to be able to see her. As soon as he’d read his orders, he’d called her agent to find out where she was. After he’d finally managed to track her down, he’d been relieved that she seemed eager to be there.

      The public who knew her image would never believe that Melanie could have a platonic relationship with a man. She had made it clear to him from the very beginning that she wasn’t interested in a casual affair. She had no desire to live up to her public image in her personal life.

      He enjoyed her company—her intelligence, her dry humor and her ability to laugh at her public persona while at the same time using her sexy image to build her career.

      He hadn’t been interested in a casual relationship, either, and his spare time when not on duty was too limited to be able to offer any woman a stable relationship. However, when he’d offered to get them a suite at the hotel for the weekend, Melanie had readily agreed to stay with him, which was a first.

      Clay knew that he was finally ready to take this relationship a step further. He took her presence there to mean that she wanted to move forward, as well.

      “I wouldn’t have missed this for the world, you know,” she added, her eyes sparkling.

      “Glad I could tempt you into coming,” he responded with a grin.

      She turned and stroked his cheek. “You’re all the temptation I’ve ever needed, something I should never admit to you. You’re cocky enough.”

      He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, then carefully kissed each fingertip, nibbling on the smallest one.

      Something caught her attention and she looked past him. “Isn’t that Cole Callaway?” Melanie whispered, nodding toward the tall, silver-haired man greeting new arrivals near the door.

      Clay was amused at the awe in her voice. His uncle had that effect on people. “Yes, ma’am, it certainly is. Uncle Cole is the head of the clan. The petite lady beside him is his wife, Allison.”

      “That is Allison Alvarez, the famous sculptor? She looks too young to have made such a name for herself for so many years.”

      “She’ll be pleased to know you think so,” he replied. He took her hand and led her over to the line of people waiting to be greeted.

      Melanie’s infectious laugh rang out, causing a few people to glance their way. “Don’t you dare embarrass me by telling her, Clay. You promised to be on your best behavior!”

      Clay attempted his innocent look but knew she wasn’t buying it. “You are aware, are you not,” he drawled, “that you will be meeting my parents tonight? My father will definitely demand to know your intentions toward me.”

      She blinked her wide green eyes, her long lashes quivering, and replied in a throaty voice, “Well, honey, I’ll just have to explain to him that they are—and always have been—very dishonorable.” She almost purred the last word, which caused him to burst into laughter.

      The couple just ahead of them moved away and Clay was face-to-face with Cole. His uncle grinned. “I’m pleased to see you’re already enjoying yourself, Clay.” He shook his hand. “Glad you could make it tonight.”

      Clay

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