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The Rival
Joanne Rock
“The chemistry is real enough…But is your story?” Devon Salazar has vowed to protect the Mesa Falls Ranch legacy—at all costs. But he can’t deny his attraction to alluring new hire Regina Flores, even if she’s definitely hiding something. This won’t stop Devon from seducing her. Until Regina reveals her surprising connection to his family…
He’ll do anything to protect his family’s secrets…
They both have something to hide, but their chemistry can’t be contained…
Media mogul Devon Salazar wants Regina Flores, but his desire is tempered by suspicion. With sibling rivalry and his father’s secrets threatening the family empire, Devon can’t afford to trust Mesa Falls Ranch’s nosy new hire. This won’t stop him from seducing her. He looks forward to seeing Miss Flores exposed… Until the tables turn and Regina reveals their surprising connection…
A Dynasties Novel
Where family loyalties and passions collide…Visit Mesa Falls
USA TODAY Bestselling Author Joanne Rock
JOANNE ROCK credits her decision to write romance after a book she picked up during a flight delay engrossed her so thoroughly that she didn’t mind at all when her flight was delayed two more times. Giving her readers the chance to escape into another world has motivated her to write over eighty books for a variety of Mills & Boon series.
Also by Joanne Rock (#uf90d13ba-9eaa-54d0-b508-c588c968f231)
The Magnate’s Mail-Order Bride
The Magnate’s Marriage Merger
His Accidental Heir
Little Secrets: His Pregnant Secretary
Claiming His Secret Heir
For the Sake of His Heir
The Forbidden Brother
Wild Wyoming Nights
One Night Scandal
The Rebel
Discover more at millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
The Rival
Joanne Rock
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
ISBN: 978-1-474-09287-6
THE RIVAL
В© 2019 Joanne Rock
Published in Great Britain 2019
by Mills & Boon, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers 1 London Bridge Street, London, SE1 9GF
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Note to Readers (#uf90d13ba-9eaa-54d0-b508-c588c968f231)
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To the new bride Susan Newkirk Heath,
who shares my romantic streak.
Contents
Cover (#u48be345a-e680-5e98-88b7-01d86eb39c43)
Back Cover Text (#uea751a8d-cd27-55e2-8721-54c67d0cd638)
About the Author (#u78ae9dc4-6386-5cab-93b1-410be301c39f)
Booklist (#uf1061044-33be-5f62-8eca-4d6674f7e89f)
Title Page (#u3ac81760-50b5-565a-b2d8-e791a3f1e90a)
Copyright (#u46642720-bf45-5b7a-b2ad-1122f06ab0fd)
Note to Readers
Dedication (#ud3256395-192c-532f-9fd3-d8e6df1a196a)
One (#u1b5977ba-0612-5aa7-98bd-65d255334d72)
Two (#udb5e9a5d-2b7b-59d7-bf0b-4cde0fcf7116)
Three (#u636a4fe9-67df-5ae7-89ec-5bb2cfb9e4f4)
Four (#litres_trial_promo)
Five (#litres_trial_promo)
Six (#litres_trial_promo)
Seven (#litres_trial_promo)
Eight (#litres_trial_promo)
Nine (#litres_trial_promo)
Ten (#litres_trial_promo)
Eleven (#litres_trial_promo)
Twelve (#litres_trial_promo)
Thirteen (#litres_trial_promo)
Epilogue (#litres_trial_promo)
About the Publisher (#litres_trial_promo)
One (#uf90d13ba-9eaa-54d0-b508-c588c968f231)
As she worked in the tack room at Mesa Falls Ranch, Regina Flores caught sight of her reflection in a shiny halter plate bearing one of the horse’s names. Even six months after her makeover, it still surprised her sometimes to see another woman’s face staring back at her.
Bypassing the fancy dress tack, Regina chose an everyday bridle and rushed back to the stable to finish saddling a second mount. She’d wheedled her way onto the ranch staff as a trail guide the week before and still hadn’t found an opportunity to get close to Devon Salazar, whose company was overseeing the social media marketing and launch event for the ranch’s rebranding as a private corporate retreat. Getting close to Devon was the only reason she’d taken the job. And she never could have accomplished that if she’d borne any resemblance to her old self—Georgiana Fuentes.
Tightening the saddle girth on the second horse, Regina finished tacking up quickly before unhooking the crossties. She brought both horses through the paddock area before mounting her own and leading the second. She’d heard Devon had a meeting coming up at the main lodge and there was a chance she could talk him into riding there with her. But only if she hurried.
She nudged the bay mustang faster until the main buildings were out of sight. The ranch owners had given Devon a two-bedroom cabin right on the Bitterroot River, a more remote property with beautiful views and a multilevel deck to take in the sights. She’d made careful notes about all the ranch’s buildings in order to land the trail guide job. Regina had sacrificed everything to be here now—for this chance to learn the truth about the Salazar heirs.
How much did Devon Salazar know about the book his dead father had penned under a pseudonym eight years ago? A tell-all that had caused life as she’d known it to implode? She’d overheard him deny all knowledge of it to his brother in a conversation last week, but she’d also learned the siblings didn’t trust each other, so she didn’t put much stock in what he’d told Marcus.
Her private investigator had only recently discovered the identity of the author—two months after Alonzo Salazar’s death—so she’d had to transfer her need for revenge from the father to the sons. Because she didn’t believe for a second that they hadn’t benefited from their father’s decision to unmask her family’s secrets for financial gain.
A light snow began to fall as she guided the horses off the trail to a shortcut that would bring her to Devon’s cabin faster.
She should be thankful she bore no resemblance to the woman she used to be. If she’d still looked anything like sweet, innocent Georgiana Fuentes, Devon might have recognized her as one of the thinly disguised real-life characters in his dad’s supposed work of “fiction.” Or, more accurately, from the endless images of her in the press after a Hollywood gossip columnist had linked the novel’s characters to their real-life counterparts.
But stress had stolen thirty pounds from her frame. Relentless workouts in an effort to excise her anger had sculpted a much different body from the soft curves of her teenage self. Even worse, being hounded by the tabloids for her story had caused a car accident three years ago that required enough facial reconstruction to alter her features. Finally, to complete the transformation, six months ago, she’d hacked off her long blond waves to just above her shoulders and dyed the remaining hair a deep chocolate brown. Regina had effectively scrubbed away every last remnant of the woman she used to be.
Devon would never guess she’d once been the spoiled heiress of a powerful A-list actor who’d disowned her and her mother when he learned that Georgiana wasn’t his biological daughter, thanks to the tell-all book. She’d done therapy for her anger issues with her family long ago. But she’d then realized she couldn’t really start building a new life until she understood why her old one had been taken from her.
And whether or not Devon and Marcus Salazar had profited from the book that had cost her everything.
Leaning back in the saddle, she slowed the lead horse just before Devon’s cabin came into view. She needed to brace herself mentally for seeing the man who had almost assuredly built his business empire thanks to her misfortune. He was her enemy.
So it threw her that he was absurdly handsome. His green eyes had sparked an unwelcome heat inside her the only time she’d spoken to him two days ago, when she’d invited him on a trail ride.
Being around him rattled her, but she had to hide it. Had to stay focused. Because she would do whatever was necessary to uncover the truth.
“You’re leaving?” Standing in the living area of his two-bedroom cabin on the Mesa Falls Ranch property, Devon Salazar glared at his half brother, Marcus, knowing he shouldn’t be surprised by the news.
When had they ever seen eye to eye on anything?
They’d only come to the ranch to honor a deathbed promise to their father before his passing. Because even though they ran a company together, they did so from offices on opposite coasts—Devon in New York and Marcus in Los Angeles. Devon had assumed their father wanted them to spend time in the same place so they would work out their differences and settle the future of Salazar Media. Little did he know Alonzo Salazar had only called them there to drop a bombshell on them, which they discovered in the paperwork he’d left with the ranch owners before his death.
“I know the timing is unfortunate,” Marcus conceded, prowling around the living area in a dark blue suit, his sunglasses still perched on his head from when he’d shown up at Devon’s cabin twenty minutes ago. His only nod to the fast-dropping Montana temperatures was the wool scarf slung around his neck. “But Lily and I have left you a thorough plan for the launch event. All you need to do is execute it.”
Barely hanging onto his patience, Devon stared out at the densely forested mountainside just beyond his luxury cabin’s tiered deck.
“All I need to do is execute?” he repeated, glaring at the sea of ponderosa pines just beyond the big windows. He hadn’t been brought up to speed on the client yet, and most of the ranch owners—it was jointly held by six friends—were still aggravated with Devon for showing up more than a week late at the ranch and delaying the work on the relaunch. “While you and Lily gallivant around Europe for a few weeks?”
Marcus had fallen in love with the COO of Salazar Media, Lily Carrington. While Devon had delayed his trip to Montana to hire a private investigator to look more deeply into their father’s mysterious past, Marcus had been at the ranch wooing the woman Devon had sent in his absence. Losing both of them during the launch event for a new, prestigious client was a hard hit.
“We did the setup. Now it’s your turn,” Marcus explained, his usual antagonism noticeably absent. Maybe romance agreed with him. “Besides, I’m hoping this trip turns into an elopement,” he confided, the announcement a total surprise.
Knowing what a difficult—and long—engagement Lily had to her previous fiancé, Devon could see the wisdom of that move. Some of his anger leaked away. He and his half brother might not get along, but Devon wanted Lily to be happy. Hell, he didn’t begrudge Marcus being happy, either.
“You haven’t asked her yet?”
Marcus shook his head. “No. I was thinking of surprising her in Paris. Pulling out all the stops.”
“That’s a good idea, actually.” Funny to think their shared business—and a shared father—had never brought them together, but if Marcus married Lily, they might finally have an effective tie. “I only want what’s best for her, you know.”
“I know.” His sibling’s dark eyes met his for a moment before he glanced away. “And so do I. She hasn’t taken a vacation in years. She deserves for someone to put her first.”
Devon didn’t need to be reminded of the particulars. Lily had been raised to feel like an intruder in her grandparents’ wealthy world and she’d worked tirelessly to feel deserving of all they’d done for her. Their backgrounds weren’t all that different, since Devon’s single mother had moved back in with her old-money family after Alonzo Salazar had abandoned her shortly after Devon’s birth.
“Agreed.” He would find a way to make the launch event work on his own. He would bring in more staff, for starters. “But you realize the bigger issue right now is not the launch, but trying to contain the fallout from whatever new scandal Dad’s book could cause.”
Hammering out an agreement for the future of Salazar Media—and who would take the helm of the business—would have to wait.
“But for now, no one knows about that. If the secret comes out somehow, we’ll deal with it when it happens,” Marcus assured him, checking his watch. “In the meantime, I’ve got to pick up Lily so we can head to the airstrip. We’re flying out this afternoon.”
Devon resisted the urge to argue. The ramifications of the secret leaking out were bigger than they knew. But Marcus had been the one to nail down the ranch as a client, and he’d kept the situation under control with the owners until Devon had arrived, so he’d done his part. Now Devon would have to find a way to keep any revelations about their father’s book from ruining everything they’d both worked so hard for.
“Good luck,” he told him simply, extending a hand.
Marcus stared down at it for a beat too long, but he squeezed Devon’s palm in the end. “Thank you. And you’d better get moving if you want to make that meeting with Weston Rivera. It’s almost noon.”
Devon swore as he shoved his phone in his pocket and headed toward the coatrack to retrieve a fitted black parka. “I won’t bother you unless all hell breaks loose.”
“I can give you a ride over there—”
“No need.” The main lodge was in the opposite direction from Marcus’s cabin. “You added the ranch to our client list. I’ll make the rest of it work.”
His brother gave a clipped nod before stepping out into the December chill, a burst of cold air lingering in his wake when he closed the door.
Devon shut his laptop and hunted down a hat and a pair of gloves, already mulling over how he was going to juggle orchestrating the kickoff party with digging deeper into their father’s secrets. He hadn’t wanted to share with Marcus his own reasons for needing to keep the Salazar dirty laundry out of the headlines for at least two more weeks. Devon’s socialite mother was set to wed an international banker on Christmas Eve in a highly publicized ceremony. She had found happiness at last, and Devon refused to let a scandal about his father overshadow her well-deserved spotlight.
Maybe Devon’s paranoia about his father’s secrets leaking now were misplaced, considering Alonzo had kept his double life as an author on lockdown for eight years. But Devon’s gut told him that his dad’s death was going to bring everything to light.
The papers Alonzo had left for his sons here at the ranch revealed all the details. Under the pseudonym A. J. Sorensen, Alonzo had released an international bestselling novel about Hollywood power brokers and scandals. The book had caused an uproar a year after its release, when a Beverly Hills gossip columnist cracked the code on the identities of the people who inspired the characters.
Real people had been hurt by the book. A Hollywood marriage had been torn apart. A daughter disowned.
Devon pulled a gray knit cap over his ears and tugged open the cabin door just as a light snow began to fall. He spotted a woman on horseback heading toward him. She had a dark Stetson pulled low on her forehead, and it was difficult to see her features through the swirl of snowflakes, but Devon recognized her as the trail guide employed by Mesa Falls Ranch. She’d approached him two days ago about taking a tour of the property to familiarize him with the ranch, an idea he might have jumped on another time, but he’d been reeling from the news about his father’s secrets.
Regina Flores had made an impression, though.
With her silver-gray eyes and dark hair, she’d captured his attention right away. She had a thoughtful, brooding air about her; she seemed to be a woman of deep, mysterious thoughts. Until she smiled. She had a mischievous, quick grin that made him think wholly inappropriate things. Today she wore a black duster that flared over her horse’s saddle and a purple scarf tied around her neck. She held the reins to a second mount, a sturdy chestnut quarter horse.
“Hello, Mr. Salazar.” She flashed a smile his way, two deep dimples framing her lips as she drew to a stop in front of the cabin.
He wasn’t a man easily distracted by physical attraction, but something about this woman’s ease in her own skin called to him in spite of his looming worries. It made him very aware of how long it had been since he’d shared his bed. He’d been so focused on growing the company he hadn’t made time for anything but the most fleeting encounters over the past two years.
“Good morning.” He stepped down the deck steps to ground level as the snowfall began picking up speed. “And call me Devon.”
Her mustang whinnied a greeting, shaking its mane. Devon stopped near the horse’s head to stroke the muzzle, noting the flurries melting on its nose. Safer to look the animal in the eye than its appealing rider.
“I heard from Mr. Rivera that the two of you have a meeting, so I thought I’d offer you a lift.” She jutted her chin in the direction of the chestnut mare behind her. “Nutmeg is saddled and ready to go if you are.”
“You came all the way out here on the off chance I’d need a ride?” His gaze skimmed up her denim-clad thigh, over her feminine curves, to study her expression. Was there a chance Regina Flores felt the same pull he did when they were near one another?
The idea revved him up.
“I didn’t have any trail rides scheduled for today and both these animals were due for some exercise, so my offer isn’t quite as generous as you make it sound.” Her smile was self-deprecating this time. “I had to get Nutmeg out either way.”
She might well be telling the truth.
But the alternative—that she harbored a personal interest in him—was far more intriguing. Especially during a tense week, with his business hanging in the balance. He could see the potential benefit of a distraction.
“To tell you the truth, I’d be grateful for the company,” he said at last, reaching up to take Nutmeg’s reins from Regina.
He briefly caught her hand in his, leather on leather, before sliding the horse’s lead free.
Regina’s quicksilver eyes tracked him, her smile fleeing as awareness flickered between them. At least, he’d like to think that she’d felt it, too.
“Do you need a hand up?” she asked even as he slung a leg over Nutmeg’s back.
“I’ll be fine.” He urged the chestnut forward two steps so he was beside Regina.
Close enough to touch.
“Suit yourself.” Her gaze darted around, as if unsure where to land. “Just keep in mind some of our horses are more spirited than others. It’s a good idea to get acquainted with their quirks first.”
“In that case, anything I need to know about Nutmeg?” He was far more interested in getting to know the trail guide than the gentle mare.
“She’s a follower.” Regina shifted in the saddle and her horse eased back a step from his. “She’ll be more comfortable letting me take the lead.”
“Fair enough.” He opened his hand with the reins still balanced on his palm, giving the horse her lead. “But since I’m most definitely not a follower, next time feel free to give me something feistier.” He allowed his words to sink in before leaning fractionally closer. “I like a challenge.”
Her swift intake of breath, a soft and sexy gasp, was the most pleasant sound he’d heard in days.
And just like that, he had something to look forward to during an otherwise hellish week. Regina Flores was a welcome feminine distraction when all the rest of his world was falling apart.
Pull it together.
Regina cursed herself for finding anything remotely attractive about a man she knew to be her enemy.
Tall and leanly muscled, Devon carried himself with athletic grace in dark jeans and a fitted black parka. A gray ski cap covered his light brown hair, the knit fabric framing thick eyebrows and pale green eyes. With sculpted features, he was handsome in a way that should have been boringly traditional. Except there was something undeniably compelling about the way his eyes followed her. He didn’t seem like the kind of man who paid attention to every random woman in his field of vision. She’d had time to observe him unnoticed, and he was normally all business. Yet, around her, she felt the heated spark of masculine interest.
She put the bay in motion. The hoofbeats were softened by the layer of snow sticking on the trail back to the main lodge at Mesa Falls Ranch. The wind picked up, swirling flakes that tickled her cheeks. She appreciated the icy kiss on her skin, needing something to cool her frustration.
Her keen awareness.
She’d worked too hard to get close to him to lose focus now. Her whole point in bringing Devon a mount had been to talk to him. Earn his confidence. Instead, the moment he’d gotten close to her, she’d felt the most bizarrely unexpected reaction to him.
Blatant physical attraction.
It would have been unsettling enough if it had been one-sided. But Devon’s comment about liking a challenge hadn’t only been about the horses.
Breathing out slowly, she told herself to let go of the moment and focus on salvaging this time with Devon. His younger brother and business partner, Marcus, was leaving the ranch today with the COO of Salazar Media, Lily Carrington. The pair had fallen in love and spent so much time together during their stay at Mesa Falls Ranch that Regina had had no opportunity to get near Marcus.
Devon was her last chance to find out how much the Salazar family knew about their father’s book. She’d risked her cover to eavesdrop on a conversation between the brothers the week before, enough to learn that Marcus and Devon didn’t trust each other at all even though they were business partners. And that fact alone called into question everything that had transpired between them.
They’d spoken like they didn’t know about their father’s book. But could one—or both—of them have been lying?
One thing was certain: she wasn’t going to learn any more if she didn’t try to get to know Devon better.
Slowing her horse’s step, she waited until he was close to her again. She noticed he allowed her to keep the lead, however.
“You ride very well,” she observed lightly, daring a glance toward him as they followed the Bitterroot River toward the lodge. “Did you grow up around horses?”
He stared out through the snow-covered field where a few deer picked their way back into a thicket.
“Not really. I went to school with a guy who lived on a Kentucky Thoroughbred farm and I spent a couple of summers with his family.” He pointed toward the woods where the deer had disappeared. “Look. The fawn wants to come back and play.”
Sure enough, the smallest of the deer hopped out into the field again, running in a circle before it darted back into the trees in a flash of white tail. She felt herself smiling along with Devon until she remembered she had to keep up her guard.
“Now that I know what a strong rider you are, I’m all the more determined to take you out on one of the trails while you’re here.” She figured a little flattery couldn’t hurt her cause. “You must want to see the full spread of the ranch while you’re preparing for the launch party?”
“I do.” He turned those pale green eyes her way, his expression serious. “As long as you’re my guide.”
Her heart pounded harder.
Only because she was circling the enemy, damn it.
She ground her teeth together. Focus.
“Deal.” She forced a smile as they rounded the last bend before the main lodge came into view. “Name a time. I actually need to put in more trail ride hours myself, familiarize myself with the place, before Mesa Falls Ranch opens to the corporate retreats at the end of the month.”
“How’s tomorrow morning?” His breath huffed a cloud in the cold air as he spoke. “I can clear my calendar and spend the day taking in the sights.”
“Excellent.” She’d have Devon all to herself. Surely she’d find out something about his father and what kind of relationship Devon had with the man who’d used Regina’s family secrets to make a fortune. “Should I meet you at your cabin?”
“I’ll come to the stables.” He nudged Nutmeg in the flank, turning her toward the lodge. “You can help me choose the right mount.”
“Of course.” She wondered if his knowledge of horses was better than hers. She’d had to exaggerate her skills a bit to land the trail guide job. “We can have the kitchen pack us a meal if you think we’ll stay out through the lunch hour.”
“Absolutely.” Devon nodded. “I had a lot on my plate when you first mentioned the idea of a trail ride, but I’ll be ready to give you my full attention tomorrow.” Slowing his horse to a halt, he let his gaze linger on Regina. “In fact, I look forward to it.”
She stared back at him for a moment too long, trying to read the undercurrent between them. Trying to ignore the pull of attraction.
“Sounds good,” she said finally, needing to stay polite. Professional. Friendly.
No matter that her feelings for him veered between suspicion and simmering awareness.
Dismounting, he turned to stride into the lodge for his meeting, leaving Regina to bring Nutmeg back to the stables. She watched him walk away, his dark boots leaving an imprint as he charged through the coating of powdery snow.
Tomorrow, he’d promised her his undivided attention. That had potential for her investigation into what the Salazar heirs knew about their father’s activities. But he’d also made it clear he was interested in her, and that complicated things considerably. For some reason she was okay deceiving him about her identity, but not okay using the attraction between them as some sort of bargaining chip.
She’d have to find a way to get the answers she needed without succumbing to the draw of the man.
And even after spending only ten minutes with Devon Salazar, she knew that wasn’t going to be easy. But failure wasn’t an option. One way or another, Regina would find out where the profits from Alonzo Salazar’s book were going. If it turned out Devon Salazar had benefited financially from the wreckage of her world?
She would use everything in her power to make sure he paid.
Two (#uf90d13ba-9eaa-54d0-b508-c588c968f231)
Regina stayed up late and awoke early, wanting to ensure she was well prepared for the outing with Devon. She had studied everything she might possibly need to know for the trail ride—weather conditions, interesting sights along the way, a refresher on the native plants and animals. She’d also spent some time rehearsing a few basic details of her cover story since she couldn’t reveal anything personal for fear of giving away her past as Georgiana.
Now she was huddled inside the barn, checking the map on her phone so she didn’t get lost during the ride, when Devon arrived.
“Morning.” The deep masculine voice warmed her insides even before she turned to see him standing under the arch of the doorway.
Snow stirred behind him in a misty white cloud as he pulled on a pair of leather gloves. From his jeans and boots to his dark sheepskin jacket, he looked ready for the outing and not at all like her idea of a Manhattan executive. Straightening, she tucked her phone in the pocket of her jacket.
“Good morning, Devon.” She forced a smile in spite of the weird mixture of nervousness and tamped-down attraction. “Are you ready to ride?”
“I’ve been eagerly anticipating this.” His green eyes lingered on her as he stepped deeper into the barn. “And I hope you don’t mind, but I took the liberty of making a few adjustments to the lunch you ordered from the kitchen.”
He held up a sleekly packaged parcel that she hadn’t noticed he was carrying.
“Perfect.” She’d been planning to stop by the kitchen on their way out. She opened one of the saddlebags. “You can slide it in here.”
He was by her side in a few steps, the heat and warmth of him blocking the cold air blowing in through the open doors.
He smelled like pine trees and soap. A fact she wished she hadn’t noticed. He stepped back from the Appaloosa.
“I see you saddled a different mount for me today.” He patted the mare’s flank while she closed the flap on the saddlebag.
“I know you hoped for something more spirited. Your brother was partial to Evangeline,” she told him smoothly, pretending not to know anything about their enmity. “I thought maybe you’d enjoy her, too.”
Leading his horse out of the barn, he gave a humorless laugh. “Marcus and I have rarely agreed on anything, but I won’t hold that against Evangeline.”
A few moments later, they were mounted and trotting away from the barns at a good clip. Regina tipped her face up into the falling snow, enjoying the fresh air and the beauty of Big Sky Country despite the rider beside her. She found it difficult to relax around him, given her overwhelming need to learn more about his connection to his father and the book that had destroyed her life. But at least his remark about Marcus had given her a toehold into that conversation.
Her cheeks tingled with the chill of the icy snow as she began her most basic introduction to Mesa Falls Ranch, outlining the size and rough parameters of the place, skimming over the ownership, since she assumed Devon knew all about the unique group who managed the property.
“Have you met all of the owners?” Devon asked as they began the steep trek out of Bitterroot Valley.
“I haven’t.” She hadn’t really understood the point of the shared ranch venture. Most ranches were either family owned or held by a major corporation. Yet Mesa Falls was owned equally by six friends who had never made the bottom line a primary concern. “I’ve only met Weston Rivera, who spends the most time on site overseeing things.” She pointed to a break in the trees ahead. “We’ll be able to see his house from just up there.”
“I’ve been to his home. I got to meet a few of the owners at a welcome party they threw at Rivera’s place last week.” Devon appeared more relaxed than he had the day before, even though his mount was definitely more energetic.
For her part, Regina felt on edge, wanting to remain alert to any clues he might give her about his family, his business and his sources of income.
Swaying with the mustang’s movements, she debated the best way to broach those topics.
“I remember hearing about that. Your brother went, too, I think.” She knew a lot about Marcus’s movements even though she hadn’t spoken to him directly. Last week, she’d still been feeling her way around the ranch after landing the job. She’d spied on Marcus more than once.
“He did.” Devon’s answer was clipped.
“The two of you have a business together, and yet you mentioned you don’t see eye to eye on many things.” She glanced his way to gauge his expression. “Doesn’t that make working together difficult?”
“Absolutely,” he said without hesitation. “Thankfully, we have offices on opposite coasts, and that helps.”
She wanted to ask a follow-up question but didn’t want to sound like she was interrogating him. So she waited.
“Do you have siblings, Regina?” he asked as they cleared a rise. The terrain leveled off slightly as the horses picked their way along the narrow trail under the shelter of the pines.
“No.” That wasn’t strictly true since she had two half siblings, her father’s kids she’d never been allowed to meet. Her birth father’s wife was highly protective of her family, resenting Regina’s late appearance in their lives. “I’ve always envied people with bigger families.”
Families that didn’t disown their children.
Birds squawked in the trees overhead, their movements causing more snow to rain down on them as they disturbed the branches.
“Marcus and I didn’t spend any time together growing up,” Devon explained as they left the trees behind and arrived on a plateau above the river. “Our mothers viewed one another as rivals, so Marcus and I did, too.”
“Yet you started a very successful business together.”
He looked sharply at her. “You’ve done your homework.”
Her cheeks heated; yes, she had dug through everything she could find about Salazar Media. Especially since Devon’s father had been a part owner. “You and Marcus are the first guests since I’ve been a trail guide. I figured it doesn’t hurt to know who I’m talking to.”
“I’m flattered,” he admitted. “I’m usually the one doing all the studying about new clients. I can’t remember the last time anyone tried to impress me.”
His gaze collided with hers and she felt the prickle of awareness all over her skin, even with the cold wind blowing off the mountains. Her mouth dried up as she debated how to respond. Thankfully, he had questions about their direction and the next two hours passed uneventfully enough.
She kept up a running patter about the sights, the history of the Bitterroot River, and the best spots for fly-fishing according to the locals she’d asked. They were far from the main ranch house when she spotted a creek side lean-to that one of the ranch hands had told her about. Built by one of the owners for a winter retreat, the lean-to was open on one side, with a picnic table tucked under the shelter.
“Are you ready for lunch?” she asked, shifting in the saddle to see Devon better. “There’s a good spot to make a fire by the water if you want one.”
She could see the fire ring between the lean-to and the creek, the spot sheltered from the wind.
“Sounds good.” He followed her down the snowy hill to the open hut with its bark and branch roof.
She settled the horses close to the water while Devon unpacked the food. She found a few promising sticks to build a fire, kicked away the excess snow, then got to work starting a blaze. By the time she turned around, Devon had flannel blankets on both benches, a clean linen over the table and two glasses of wine poured into stemless glasses. A centerpiece of bread, meats and cheeses was surrounded by fruit, nuts and even a small jar of honey.
With the fire snapping behind her, the flames giving the winter picnic a burnished glow, things had taken a turn for the romantic.
“Wow.” She darted her gaze to his, not sure what to say. “That definitely looks better than the turkey sandwiches I asked the staff chef to make us.”
He waved her closer. “I hope you don’t mind. But I like to combine work with pleasure whenever I can, and Montana is too beautiful not to savor.”
Her heartbeat jumped nervously as she neared him to slide onto one of the bench seats. She needed to be wary of this man’s idea of pleasure. She had too much at stake to lose focus now.
“Of course,” she tried to say in a normal tone, but her voice cracked like a twelve-year-old boy’s. She cleared her throat and tried again. “It’s a treat for me, too.”
“I’m glad.” He took the seat opposite her and waited while she removed her gloves and filled a plate for herself. “So how long have you worked here?”
She took a sip of her wine to steel herself for the inevitable questions and hoped she could change the topic fast.
“I just started last week. I’m having a hard time deciding on a career path since I finished college, so I’ve been testing out different jobs, trying to figure out what I want to do and where I’d like to live.” It was close enough to the truth.
She didn’t mention that she couldn’t properly get her life underway until she had the answers she needed about A. J. Sorensen’s book and where all the profits from it had gone.
“Really?” Devon stretched his long legs under the table, one knee bumping hers. “Where did you attend college?”
“Online.” That wasn’t true. She’d taken most of her classes on the UCLA campus—right up until her accident. “It was easier that way, since I enjoy moving around.”
“And where’s home?” he asked, dipping a corner of the fresh bread into the honey.
“My mother lives in Tahoe.” That was true. “I guess home is there.” Technically, Regina had only ever visited for a couple of days at a time.
Her mother had left Hollywood as soon as she could after the scandal broke, but Regina had remained in Los Angeles with her grandmother to finish high school. At the time, she couldn’t imagine living without her friends, but one by one her friends had all fallen away after the scandal. Even Terri, her best friend, had eventually disappeared from her life when Terri’s parents realized how dangerous it was for two teenage girls trying to flee tabloid reporters on their own.
Regina understood—especially after the late-night car wreck while trying to shake the paparazzi had almost killed her during her undergraduate years. But understanding why her friends had vanished didn’t make those years any less painful. She nibbled a square of smoked gouda and hoped she could change the subject soon.
“Well, I’m glad our paths crossed,” Devon said, lifting his glass. “Here’s to finding new friends in unexpected places.”
She felt her chest constrict, hating the lies but knowing she had no choice if she wanted to discover the truth about his father’s finances.
“To new friends.” Raising her glass, she clinked it gently against his.
Their eyes met as they drank. She glanced away fast, but not before she felt an undeniable spark between them. The thought he’d put into the meal, the curiosity he’d shown about her personally, the way he looked at her—all of it added up to frank male interest that would have been flattering if it hadn’t been so dangerous to her mission.
“What about you?” She reached for another topic of conversation to steer things away from herself. Away from the slow simmer of awareness in her veins. “Where’s home for you?”
“New York. I bought a place on Central Park West when I heard about a potential vacancy and jumped on it before the apartment went on the market.” Crunching into an apple slice, he pointed to a low-flying hawk circling nearby. “My family is in Connecticut. Except, of course, for Marcus out in Los Angeles.”
She tracked the bird while she thought about how to steer the conversation to find out more about his father. The hawk flew for long moments without flapping its wings, angling through the air in a graceful, soaring flight.
“Do you travel to a lot of different places for work?” She needed to be subtler than she’d been earlier. She might have admitted she’d read up on his family, but she didn’t want him to know how much.
“I was in India last week, meeting with an international client, but that’s rare.” He removed a sheaf of paperwork from his jacket and laid it on the table. She recognized a map of Mesa Falls Ranch with a few of the buildings marked on it. “Montana is new for me, too, and I appreciate the tour today.” He spun the map around so she could see it better, then pointed to a few pen markings. “I want to make sure we hit these places.”
She recognized two of the owners’ homes as well as a peak with renowned views of the valley. But her eye was drawn to the papers that had been behind the map—the ones now partially covered by his forearm. The top sheet appeared to be contact information for someone—part of a phone number and an email address that looked like it ended “…tigations.com.”
Mitigations? Litigations? Investigations?
“Of course.” Her brain worked double time to come up with other words even as she forced herself to make eye contact with him. “No problem.”
Crazy though it might seem, she couldn’t shake the feeling the information was related to his father’s estate. Or the book. Or something that might shed light on her quest. But how to steal a peek at it?
“Excellent.” He started to slide the map back into his stack, then paused. “Did you need this for reference?”
Her gaze flicked back to the sheaf on the table, where she caught the word “April.” Or was it a name?
“Sure.” She reached for the map, trying not to stare at the place where his elbow hid whatever came after “April.”
“That would be great.”
He hesitated before passing it to her. “Are you okay?”
She forced her attention back to his green eyes. “Of course. Why?”
Tucking the map into her jacket pocket, she watched him fold his documents and return them to his coat.
“You just seem a little distracted.” He studied her, and for a moment she feared he could see right through her. But then he clinked his glass to hers again. “Drink up, Regina. We should probably pack our things so we have time to see the rest of the ranch.”
Nodding, she finished her meal and wondered how to see those papers before they disappeared for good. One way or another, she needed a plan to separate Devon from his jacket as soon as possible.
Something seemed off about the lovely Mesa Falls Ranch trail guide.
Devon couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, though. After they returned their mounts to the stables shortly before sunset, Regina had invited him to brush down the horses with her, one of many little things that struck him as odd. He didn’t mind taking care of an animal he’d ridden all day—that was far from the point. Mesa Falls Ranch was positioning itself as a high-end corporate retreat, secondary to its main ranching mission. They had plenty of ranch hands to oversee the stables. If anything, they had too much help in the weeks before the launch party. So certainly, Regina didn’t need his help.
As much as he’d like to think the sexy trail guide was unwilling to part with his company, he didn’t think attraction factored into her request. There’d been plenty of opportunities to act on the awareness between them today—during lunch especially. But Regina had seemed distracted, her thoughts elsewhere.
He ran the brush over Evangeline’s flank, working in tandem with Regina in the quiet barn. The riding arena close to the lodge was more of a showplace than part of the working ranch—here, inexperienced riders could receive pointers about horsemanship, or try their hand at simple rodeo events in a well-monitored setting. Only a handful of horses were housed here tonight. The sweet smell of hay circulated in the cool air from a high, open window.
Evangeline whinnied as he moved the brush down her back, and he caught sight of Regina working silently at the crossties, next to him. Her dark hair caught the overhead lights, revealing a healthy shine. She’d shrugged off her jacket when they’d started working and now he did the same, draping it over the hook near hers. Even with the window open, the big animals warmed the space.
Regina caught him staring then, and for a moment the temperature spiked hotter. Her eyes darted over him before she shifted her attention back to her work. What was it about her silvery gaze that made him so damned curious about her? Maybe the odd signals he’d gotten today came down to attraction after all.
Perhaps she was simply shy. Or maybe she felt an abundance of caution since she was employed by the ranch and didn’t wish to risk a new job by fraternizing with a client. While he considered his next move, his phone rang. He’d had it turned off during their ride, so he checked the screen now just in case it was important.
The caller ID showed his mother’s photo.
“Regina, I just need five minutes, but I really should grab this.”
“Of course.” She waved him along, her smile transforming her face from pretty to breathtaking. “Take as long as you need.”
Nodding his thanks, he set down the brush and hit the button to connect the call.
“Mom?” He moved toward the barn doors, sliding one open to step outside.
“Hello, Devon.” Her voice was lowered, and he could hear what sounded like a dinner party in the background—indistinct music, soft chatter and laughter. “I just saw your note about extending your stay in Montana for the launch party. I wanted to be sure you’ll be here for the wedding.”
“Of course I will.” He thought he’d made that clear in the text he’d sent earlier, but he knew his mother was nervous about her upcoming nuptials. “Mom, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. You know that.”
“Okay.” Her small laugh sounded relieved more than anything. “I thought so, but I wanted to be sure. There’s so much booked for the week before that the sooner you can be here the better.”
Devon breathed in the deep stillness of the Montana mountains, wishing he could trade places with his mother for a few days so she could enjoy the peace of this kind of setting. Then again, she wouldn’t want to travel anywhere that his father had frequented. She’d never forgiven him for not sticking around after Devon was born, and although Devon understood why, he wished—for her sake—she’d been able to put Alonzo firmly in her past a long time ago.
“I’ll be at the rehearsal dinner.” He glanced behind him at the barn door, which he’d left open a few inches. “Is there anything else going on that I should know about?”
He tried his damnedest to be an attentive son. His mother had never held it against him that he was a Salazar, the way Granddad did, even though Devon had worked hard to make sure he didn’t overtly share any of his dad’s qualities.
“Most of Bradley’s family will be in town, so Granddad wants to roll out the red carpet,” his mother explained. Bradley Stewart’s family was a force to be reckoned with in banking, a well-connected clan Devon’s grandfather would leverage at first opportunity. “There will be a welcome party, a few media interviews, that sort of thing. You’re always so good with the press, Devon. I’d love it if you could be here.”
He closed his eyes, resenting his grandfather for making this wedding about business. And he hated knowing that news of Alonzo Salazar’s salacious book could steal the spotlight from what should be the happiest day of his mother’s life.
“The launch party is only two days before the wedding.” He couldn’t leave before then. Still, guilt gnawed at him that he couldn’t be there for her when she’d given up so much for him. “But I’ll get a flight as soon as it ends.”
“Of course. I understand.” The music in the background of the call grew louder. “I’d better go now, darling. Good luck, and I’ll see you soon.”
He disconnected the call, not happy to disappoint her, but knowing that it was more important for her to have him here—though she’d never understand why.
Devon needed to speak to all the owners of Mesa Falls Ranch to see what they knew about his father’s past—about the book, about the proceeds, about their relationship with him. But he needed to keep a lid on scandal at all costs. Keep his family’s private business just that—private.
And yet, as he peered through the opening of the barn door, Devon spotted Regina Flores hunched over his discarded jacket, his personal papers spilled over her lap while she helped herself to the confidential contents.
Anger flared—fast and hot.
Shoving open the door the rest of the way, he charged toward her. Her guilty scramble to stash the papers would have been damning even if he hadn’t already seen her reading them.
He stopped a foot away from her, quietly seething. “May I ask what in the hell you think you’re doing?”
Three (#uf90d13ba-9eaa-54d0-b508-c588c968f231)
Regina froze.
She’d thought she’d been keeping an ear out for Devon’s return, but she’d gotten engrossed in reading the files she had only meant to photograph. Had he seen her with the papers? Or had he only noticed her rifling through his jacket?
Her heart pounded harder as she relinquished her hold on his coat, letting it fall back on the chair as she straightened.
“I’m so embarrassed.” She only had so many ways to play this without alienating him. For that matter, if she didn’t find a way to smooth this over, he could have her fired from her job and then she’d really have no options left to track down the profits from the book that had ruined her family.
“With good reason.” Devon glared at her, his shoulders tight and his jaw clenched. He stalked closer, his dark brows furrowed.
Behind her, Evangeline tossed her head and exhaled on a long, shuddering snort. Regina moved away from the mare, not wanting the animals to feel the nervous energy pinging through her. Stepping from the straw-covered grooming area onto the cement walkway down the center of the barn, she kept her gaze trained on Devon.
“I only wanted to touch your jacket.” She knew her cheeks were bright red, and in this case that was surely to her advantage. “I’m sure it’s obvious to you that I’m…” She forced herself to pause, wishing there was another way out of this mess. She took a deep breath. “Attracted to you.”
It wasn’t a lie. She let him see the truth of it in her expression. Her pulse galloped faster while his green eyes narrowed.
“And what did you think you might find out by snooping around in my personal papers?”
Did he know that for certain? Or was he guessing?
“Call me crazy.” Shrugging, she folded her arms around herself to ward off the chill of his doubt. “But I just wanted to breathe in the scent of you.” That part was—sadly—true, as well. The first thing she’d done when she picked up his coat was to bury her nose in the lining. “And the papers fell out.”
Her face must be on fire by now. She swore she could feel where every single capillary pulsed with heat just below the skin.
She was worried about his reaction, yes. And she’d stretched the truth. But maybe the biggest reason for her blush was that she was baring a secret she hadn’t wanted to admit—even to herself.
“I find that difficult to believe when you seemed careful to keep me at arm’s length today.” He spoke softly, studying her carefully as he stood just inches away. “Our picnic certainly offered an opportunity for that.”
“Fraternizing with a guest will surely be frowned upon by my new employer.” Her breath came fast. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a stray hair flutter in her exhale. “I didn’t think acting on the attraction would be wise.” She saw some subtle shift in his expression. His pupils widened, maybe. Or his nostrils flared. “I still don’t,” she rushed to add.
“Nevertheless.” He shifted closer, his right hand grazing her jaw to lift her chin. “I’d like to test the truth of that claim.”
The green of his eyes was just the slimmest of rings around the dark centers as he peered down at her. Her thoughts scrambled.
“That I don’t think we should act on it?” Her breathless voice sounded nothing like her.
“That you’re attracted to me.” His thumb skimmed along her lower lip and pleasure trembled through her even though she tried to hold herself very still.
Electrified, she sucked in a breath. And then his lips were brushing hers. Once. Twice. Just feather-soft touches that made her knees weak, right before he kissed her.
For real.
Desire streaked through her and stole her reservations. Her arms fell to her sides for only a moment before she wrapped them around him, drawing him closer. The woodsy bergamot scent of his skin filled her senses while his hands slid around her back, pressing her closer. His fingers flexed against the hem of her sweater, stirring an awareness of how much more pleasure awaited her. The hard wall of his chest called to her palms to explore all the intriguing ridges and planes of muscle…
He broke away suddenly. For a moment, she was utterly disoriented, blinking back at him in the glow of the barn light overhead. Her breath came hard, and she noticed his did, too. His hands lingered on her back, while hers still clutched the shoulders of his gray flannel shirt. With an effort, she unclenched her fingers, letting go of him.
“The chemistry is real enough.” He didn’t seem in any hurry to release her, his fingers skimming around to her waist. Stroking up her arms. “But is your story?”
His icy words jerked her back to reality.
He let go of her then, pacing away from her. For a moment she didn’t even remember what he was talking about. She’d been that caught up in the kiss.
Panic lodged in her throat.
“What do you mean?” She stalled for time, not sure how to fix this.
How could she have let him catch her snooping? And why hadn’t she used the time when they’d been kissing to work out a plan B? Absurdly, her lips still tingled from that damned kiss, and it was all she could do not to brush her fingers over her mouth to still the quivery feeling.
“I mean I’m not convinced about your motives.” He turned to study her, and she wondered how he could flip the switch from passion to interrogation so fast. “You could be using the attraction as a smoke screen. A very hot, very effective smoke screen, from whatever it is you’re up to.”
Her throat dried up.
She was on the verge of blurting the truth—that she didn’t trust him, either, and she wanted to know what his father had done with all the profits from her misery. But then, Devon took a step closer to her again, his head tilting to one side as if he was considering a new idea.
“Maybe the best solution is for me to keep you close so I can have my eyes on you all the time.” His wolfish smile shouldn’t have been a turn-on, but she’d be lying if she denied a flare of heat inside her.
“I don’t understand,” she told him flatly, folding her arms across her chest to quiet all the ridiculous reactions of her body.
“We’ll act on the attraction, Regina,” he announced, like it was already decided. “Explore this chemistry for as long as we have together.” He lowered his voice, the silky tone stroking over her senses like a caress. “Starting now.”
Checkmate.
He’d effectively cornered her, and he wondered if she’d give up the game. No more pretense.
Because while there was attraction at work here—without question—he felt like she’d been searching his jacket with a purpose. His every instinct screamed at him that she was looking for something specific. Was she with the press? Had someone in the media gotten wind of his father’s secret identity?
Or had she been tasked by her employer to find out more about him before the launch party? Devon suspected the Mesa Falls Ranch owners would have preferred to work with Marcus on the launch since Devon had arrived late and had asked a private investigator to look into his father’s doings before he’d arrived. Weston Rivera hadn’t been pleased to be contacted by the PI.
Devon had hoped that was water under the bridge after the welcome reception the owners had thrown last week. But now he wasn’t so sure.
“You’re suggesting we…date?” When she raised one eyebrow and pursed her lips, there was something familiar about her features.
For a moment, he could almost swear he’d seen her before. But that made no sense. He shoved aside the thought to lock things down with her.
“Date. And wherever that might lead.” He wandered closer to her again, taking pleasure in the way her gaze dipped to his lips for a moment.
“I have to admit, now I’m the one confused about your motives.” She turned to release her horse from the crossties so she could lead the bay back to a stall.
It forced Devon to back up a step. The scent of hay and horses stirred while the mustang swished her tail, settling into the space before dipping her muzzle into the feed bucket.
“I thought I made myself very clear. I’m attracted to you. The feeling is reciprocated.” He shrugged as he moved toward Evangeline so he could put her in for the night, too. “What’s confusing about that?”
“You don’t seem to trust me.” She eyed him warily, opening another stall door and showing him where to lead Evangeline. “That kiss felt like some kind of test. You walked away from it easily enough. And now you toss around the idea of dating like it’s a dare.”
“In a way, it is.” He led Evangeline to the stall, then passed the bridle to Regina. “Do you dare?”
She slanted a sideways glance at him while she waited for Evangeline to get comfortable. Then she pulled off the bridle and latched the stall door.
“That’s beside the point. I can’t risk my job by dating one of the patrons.” She brushed past him with two bridles in hand.
He followed her into the tack room, where the scent of leather cleaner and polish hung heavily in the air. The walls were lined with saddles, blankets and all kinds of riding accessories. There were a few highly decorative pieces, but most were well-used plain leather.
“I’m not a guest of the ranch, though,” he reminded her as he watched her wipe down the bridles. “I’m a freelance contractor providing a service. That’s something very different. No one will object to you seeing me for the next ten days until the launch party.”
He needed to keep her close to him to find out what she was doing. If she was trying to dig up information about his family, he’d find out soon enough. He watched as she hung the clean bridles on an iron peg over her head. She arched up on her toes, fitting the pieces over the hook.
“How do I know that?” She lifted her hands in exasperation.
“I’ll inform Rivera personally.” He rested his hands on her shoulders, feeling the tension threaded through her muscles under the fabric of her soft chambray shirt. “That way, he’ll know I’m the one who initiated this relationship. So tell me, what would you like to do tomorrow to celebrate our first date?”
He caught a hint of her fragrance, something green and fresh like spring. Jasmine, maybe. He could feel some of the knots sliding away as he worked over the muscles. Not all. She was far from relaxed. Because she was nervous? Or was it more of that attraction at work? The kiss had rocked him, too, even if he’d managed to hide his reaction better than she had.
“You’re serious about going through with this?” Those silver eyes were so wary.
“I want you,” he told her simply. “I’m sure you could tell how much when I kissed you.”
He saw a shiver pass over her and it filled him with satisfaction. No matter what other dynamic was at work between them, he couldn’t wait to touch her again. Taste her thoroughly.
She gave a quick, fast nod.
“Okay.”
It wasn’t the most enthusiastic of receptions, but the shiver—and the kiss—had been enough.
“Okay.” He confirmed it, gesturing her to lead the way out of the tack room.
She sidled past him, careful not to touch.
He retrieved her discarded jacket and helped her on with it. “Would you prefer I make the plans?”
He took his time easing the heavy duster over her shoulders, then lifted her hair out from under the collar. It brushed in a silky waterfall along the top of her back.
“Maybe that would be best.” She turned to face him while he shrugged into his own jacket. “The picnic was nice today,” she admitted, a smile animating her features for the briefest moment.
“I’m glad you had fun.” He looked forward to getting to know Regina Flores much, much better. “I’ll find a way to top it tomorrow.”
She tugged her gloves from her pockets and pulled them on, flexing her fingers into the leather. He wondered what she was thinking. Feeling.
There were mysteries in her eyes he couldn’t wait to unravel.
“I’ll pick you up at six?” He pulled open the barn door so he could walk her back to her cabin or wherever it was she stayed on the ranch.
Snowflakes still fell in slow whorls. She glanced up at the sky and then back at him as she stepped outside.
He couldn’t miss the steely gleam in her eyes when she nodded.
“I’ll be ready.” Bracing her shoulders, she headed into the wind.
Devon followed and escorted her toward the main lodge. He’d have time to do his homework on Regina tonight, even if that meant asking his private investigator to do some digging on her. And when it was time for his date with the mysterious trail guide?
He’d be ready, too.
She was dating the enemy.
An hour after she’d made the deal with Devon, Regina couldn’t decide if she was grateful for her quick thinking that had made her tell him she was attracted to him. Because she sure had put herself between a rock and a…very hard place. Memories of that kiss still scorched her insides if she let her thoughts linger on it too long.
Back in the comfort of her own quarters that night, she tried to focus on what she’d learned from her gamble instead of the dicey situation she’d put herself in. With a pillow propped behind her back as she worked in bed, she recorded everything she remembered from her quick glance through Devon’s papers, entering the information on her laptop.
The women’s bunkhouse accommodations were snug but comfortable, especially since half of the beds were still vacant. But then, the guest ranch portion of Mesa Falls was all new, with the service positions still being filled. She’d chosen a top bunk in the corner, and between the location and the curtains she could draw closed across the open side of the bed, her work on the laptop was private enough.
One of the other women she roomed with had come in briefly to shower before heading out for the night, and another had gone to sleep early. In the common room where there were a few couches and a television, a couple of older ladies who worked in the kitchens were reading. Someone had flipped on Christmas country tunes in that room, the occasional twang of a fiddle or a steel guitar filtering back to the bunk area. Regina didn’t think anyone would disturb her for the rest of the evening with her curtain closed. She had her phone charging next to a bottle of water in a canvas cupholder that dangled from the top rail against the wall.
Regina searched online for the name she recalled from Devon’s papers: April Stephens. She was a private investigator. She hadn’t recalled the contact information other than that the woman was based in Denver. Regina found her easily and read her bio on a website for an agency specializing in forensic accounting and tracking down hidden assets.
Why did Devon have her card? And whose assets did he need to trace? Delving further into the website, she found links to articles about tracking missing persons. Apparently the two investigative specialties often went hand in hand since tracing missing money often led to missing people.
For the first time, Regina felt a twinge of guilt about invading Devon’s privacy. She’d been so convinced he was profiting from the story about her family, but what if he wasn’t? What if she was being as careless sifting through his personal business as his father had been with her family’s secrets?
The scent of popcorn from the common room pulled her out of her thoughts, making her remember she hadn’t eaten since the picnic she’d shared with Devon. Her stomach rumbled.
The other papers she’d glimpsed in Devon’s coat were return plane tickets and a printed schedule for an East Coast wedding. A quick scan online confirmed the woman getting married was Devon’s mother, Katherine “Kate” Radcliffe. Regina had read about Kate briefly in her earlier investigation into the Salazar family, but since the woman had never been a Salazar and didn’t stay with Alonzo for long, Regina hadn’t devoted much time to learning about the Radcliffes.
She dug deeper now, clicking through article after article online to discover all she could about Philip Radcliffe, the aging patriarch who oversaw a global pharmaceutical company. It was possible his wealth had helped Devon fund Salazar Media, and not Alonzo Salazar’s ill-gotten gains. But an interview with the billionaire in a business publication suggested otherwise. In it, Philip talked about the need for “the Radcliffe fortune to remain in Radcliffe hands” for future generations.
That sounded like a deliberate slight to his grandson with a different last name, and the author of the article had speculated as much.
Fingers hovering over her keyboard, Regina found herself empathizing—at least a small amount—with Devon. She recalled how it felt to be dismissed based on lack of birthright.
While she mulled over the new twists, the sound of footsteps in the bunkhouse made her click off her screen right before a shadow loomed on the drawn curtain around her bed.
“Hon, you still awake?” It was a woman’s voice, warm and kind.
Regina pushed aside the lined cotton fabric to see Millie, one of the new line cooks, holding a bowl of popcorn. Millie seemed close to retirement age, but she had an energetic vibe and fully embraced ranch life. Her long blond braid rested on the shoulder of a red thermal shirt that read Santa, I Tried.
“Just doing some research before bed,” Regina replied, pointing to the closed laptop.
“We made a second batch of popcorn, so I thought I’d see if you wanted a bowl.” Millie winked as she extended a red plastic dish decorated with green horseshoes and Christmas trees, with a paper napkin underneath. “It’s got extra butter.”
Touched by the gesture, Regina smiled, her mouth watering. “That’s so kind of you to think of me. Thank you.”
“It’s no trouble.” Millie was already backing away, her voice quiet as she passed another bunk where one of the room attendants was sacked out cold.
Millie disappeared into the common room, leaving Regina with the popcorn and a surprise dose of holiday spirit she hadn’t been expecting. It was strange that she felt sort of at home at Mesa Falls Ranch, given that she’d only come here to learn more about the Salazar heirs. But it had been a long time since she’d been able to work with horses; the man she’d thought was her father had confiscated her beloved Arabian when the book scandal broke. She’d missed that equine companionship almost as much as she’d missed her father figure. More, perhaps, since the horse hadn’t discarded her the way her dad had.
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