Page 1 of The Hunted Wife

Chapter 1

Late March, Steamboat Springs, Colorado

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When he realized he had just attended a board meeting wearing two different socks, Adam Sullivan decided the time had come to marry.

To be fair, the board meeting had been virtual, so no one had seen his socks and he was worth several billion dollars so no one would have said anything if they had.

Still plaid socks and striped socks were so far from being a pair, he did notice when he put them on, but they were the last clean socks he had. How he ended up with such a mismatched pair, he had no idea. He stared at the offending socks from where he sat on the edge of his bed in the bunkhouse he shared with his brothers. Outside the window the Rocky Mountains rose sharp and snowcapped against a brilliant blue sky.

Seven Brothers Ranch was quiet except for the rumble of Everett’s boots as he crossed the yard from the barn and the unmistakable thud` of someone—probably Daniel—dropping a bucket.

Here they were. Seven men. One ranch. Zero domestic sense.

The irony wasn’t lost on Adam. Sullivan Technologies employed thousands of people worldwide. They built software that ran hospitals, logistics networks and financial systems. Adam could oversee an international merger without breaking a sweat.

Together he and his brothers ran Sullivan Security, providing all types of security, from electronic building security to bodyguards to some of the most famous and powerful people in the world. Their client list included Hollywood movie stars, sheiks, kings, politicians, and athletes.

But running a household? That was chaos.

None of his brothers did any better, either. They all had businesses of their own in addition to Sullivan Security. The men all chipped in on ranch chores—fences, horses, cattle, repairs. They worked hard and they worked well together. But the rest of daily life…the domestic chores…cooking, laundry, basic housekeeping?

Those details were improvised because none of them had a clue. He just realized he’d eaten beans four nights in a row. Adam shook his head. How had life gotten so difficult?

Pulling on his boots, he headed to the main house. He passed the chicken coop and the shed for the house before he reached the kitchen door.

The building was three stories of roughhewn logs with bedrooms on the second and third floors. Bedrooms that were all empty.

The first floor held the kitchen, a full bathroom, living room, dining room, laundry room, his mother’s office and his father’s den.

They had to use the kitchen and laundry facilities but no one had spent the night in the house since his parents were killed in an avalanche while cross-country skiing more than two years ago.

When he walked into the kitchen he found Benjamin at the stove, staring into a pan. Frederick hovered nearby to fix whatever went wrong, and Gabriel, his blonde hair flopping in his eyes, sat at the table, attempting to fold laundry with little success.

Each of his brothers wore blue jeans, cowboy boots, and a plaid shirt of varying colors, which hung open over a black t-shirt. It was the standard uniform for all of them.

“Why are there only three socks?” asked Gabriel.

Daniel leaned in through the mudroom door. “Because socks breed in captivity and escape in the wild.” Then he laughed uproariously at his joke.

Flustered, Gabriel threw the three socks into the basket of clean clothes and pulled out a t-shirt. He tried to fold it, gave up and wadded it into a ball, then placed it on the pile of similarly balled up t-shirts.

Adam poured himself a cup of coffee. Making coffee was the only thing that all of them knew how to do well. “We need a wife.”

The room went quiet.

Benjamin, his long, dark brown hair tied back in a low pony-tail with a leather thong, removed the skillet from the stove and then turned slowly to face Adam. “You need a wife.”

“No.” Adam calmly took a sip from his cup. “We need a wife.”

Christopher lifted a dark brow. His light brown hair was close cropped, similar to Adam’s, yet he sported dark lashes and brows. “That seems…inefficient.”

“Actually,” said Adam, “it’s the most efficient solution to the problem available.”

“We could just hire someone,” said Everett, who leaned against the counter with a tablet in hand. He was the only brother with any red in his hair. His was dark auburn, like their mother’s. Currently, he was in need of a haircut, with curls forming at the ends of his hair where it flopped over the back of his collar. Technically, they all needed haircuts except Benjamin who only cut his hair once per year.

“They’d take one look at this place and leave. Period,” Adam said.