Heartbreaker

by Joanne Rock

  She sidled past him, but at the last moment, his palm landed lightly on her elbow.

  “Wait.” His touch fell away, quickly breaking their connection.

  Because he didn’t care to make contact with the woman who’d betrayed him? Or because he felt the same jolt of attraction she felt?

  She stopped and turned back around to face him.

  “You really plan to stay in town to chase this story?” His voice had lost some of its antagonistic edge.

  “I’m not going anywhere until I have answers.” She would be in Mesa Falls for as long as she could afford it, anyway. Rooms at the main lodge weren’t cheap, but she didn’t think Gage would ban her from the ranch property altogether given how hard his PR team had worked to bring the place into the public eye. She didn’t think he’d risk the potential bad press.

  He gave a decisive nod. “Then stay with me.”

  She blinked, certain she’d misheard. “Excuse me?”

  “If you are that indifferent to me, it should hardly be a problem to stay under the same roof while you research your piece,” he told her mildly, heading back to the couch to retrieve their drinks. He drained the rest of his bourbon and then returned with her water.

  “So you can keep an eye on me while I’m here? Make sure I don’t find the answers I seek?” She clutched the glass, savoring its coolness against her palm while she struggled to keep her edge. She had no illusions he was opening his home to her out of the goodness of his heart. “I don’t think so.”

  “Why waste your mental energy figuring out how to sneak into my home when you could have full access?” he asked, his tone deceptively reasonable.

  “Why not just kick me out, the way you threatened to upstairs?” She didn’t trust the offer. Couldn’t trust him.

  “While I don’t mind negative publicity for myself, I’d rather not stir it up for Mesa Falls.” He paced past her toward the huge table that seemed to function as a desk. Withdrawing her phone from the pocket of his tuxedo jacket, he laid it on the glass-topped surface. “So I’d rather not resort to removing you from the property altogether. But to answer your earlier question, I would find it convenient to have some awareness of your movements while you’re in town.”

  Her gaze had dropped to her phone, but his words made her attention snap back to him. “So you admit you want to keep tabs on me?”

  “You’re hardly making your movements secret when you’re posting them online,” he scoffed. “But yes. Having you under my roof will help me stay informed so I don’t have to check my social media accounts.”

  He had a point. She’d be deceiving herself if she thought he was going to ignore her presence in town altogether now that she’d made it clear she wanted answers about Alonzo Salazar.

  “For that matter,” he continued, perhaps sensing her indecision, “you’d have access to me twenty-four/seven.”

  “For what purpose?” she asked coolly, not appreciating the implication that she might desire such access.

  Gage shrugged. “You tell me. I assumed you might have questions about the ranch. Moving forward, I’ve committed to spending more time on-site to ensure the ranch’s mission is fulfilled.”

  “Are you saying you’d be willing to answer my questions?” she pressed, draining her drink and trying not to think about what it would be like to move into Gage’s home for days.

  Or weeks.

  Her stomach knotted. His easy dismissal of what they’d shared six years ago had hurt her deeply. For the first time, she debated the wisdom of coming to Montana and reopening that old wound.

  “I can’t promise that. I’m simply offering you the opportunity to ask.” He moved toward her again, plucking her empty glass from her fingers and setting it aside on the fireplace mantel. “Put your money where your mouth is, Elena. If you’re not out for revenge, and you don’t feel a damned thing about me, then work on your story from my home, where you won’t have to sneak around my security. And yes, I get to pretend I at least have a chance to influence your work.”

  She longed to refuse. To walk away from him and the deal with the devil he was offering.

  But he’d effectively called her bluff. And bottom line, she couldn’t afford to turn him down. Smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from her velvet-and-satin gown, she told herself it was a welcome opportunity. A chance to learn insider details about Alonzo Salazar’s life and legacy.

  “I’ve heard more gracious invitations,” she said finally. “But I’m hardly in a position to be choosy.”

  He gave a satisfied nod.

  “Excellent. Are you staying in the lodge? I’ll send someone over to retrieve your things.” Gage pulled his own phone from his pocket and began tapping out a message.

  “Right now?” She thought about what her hotel room looked like, her meager possessions offering a far more realistic portrait of her desperate finances than the beautiful gown she’d finagled from a local vendor for the event at almost no cost to her.

  “I’m sure you’re in a hurry to begin pursuing your story.” He pocketed the device again. “Didn’t you tell me your followers deserve answers?”

  She began to see how neatly he’d maneuvered her into doing what he wanted. But what were his real motives? “I hope that doesn’t mean I’ve effectively become your prisoner in this remote home.”

  “An intriguing idea, but no.” The curve of his lips didn’t seem quite like a smile. Wolfish anticipation, maybe. “You can, of course, come and go as you please. Although running from me at first opportunity hardly seems like the action of a woman who’s indifferent.” A note of challenge hung in his voice.

  “I only meant that I’d like to retrieve my own things from the lodge.” She wasn’t sure how much of her life she could hide from Gage if he decided he wanted answers of his own. But she definitely didn’t want him to know the extent of her financial hardship.

  “And miss the rest of the party you took pains to crash?” He shook his head and moved closer to her. “The evening has only just begun. Enjoy yourself here, and your bags will be in your suite by the time you’re ready to retire for the night.”

  He extended his arm to her, as if he were courting her and not taunting her. Tempting her. Teasing her.

  He’d said he didn’t believe that she was indifferent to him, and clearly, he still didn’t.

  She suspected Gage would do everything in his power to prove her a liar on that count. But then, given how quickly he’d believed the worst of her, what was one more black mark against her name?

  She’d wheedled her way into his home. Now it was up to her to make the most of the opportunity. So she slid her hand around his forearm, wordlessly accepting his invitation.

  His dark eyes met hers and she felt that crackle of electricity between them again. She flicked her gaze away, her darting glance landing on her smartphone.

  “My camera—” she began.

  “—is off-limits for the rest of the party.” He laid a hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “It will be safe here when you return to your suite tonight.”

  Confused, she peered around the office.

  “My suite?”

  “This will be your sitting area while you’re staying with me. Your bedroom is through there.” He pointed to double doors behind the massive desk.

  “I see you have plenty of room for me,” she noted drily. She’d understood that Gage had achieved new heights of wealth in recent years, but seeing the way he lived firsthand was still eye-opening.

  “I do, indeed.” He squeezed her hand lightly before letting go and leading her out of the suite and back toward the party. “You’ll hardly know we’re sharing the same roof again.”

  Based on the way her pulse quickened when he was near, she seriously doubted it.

  Three

  Later that evening, Elena went into the kitchen and helped herse
lf to a plate of fruit before declaring the night a total bust. Becoming an invited guest at Gage’s soiree tonight had done little to help Elena’s story.

  Of course, the fact that Gage had attached himself to her for most of the party surely had something to do with it. Sighing with frustration, she drizzled a yogurt dip over her pile of strawberries and pineapple slices. No matter what he said to the contrary, he planned to be her watchdog more than her host.

  Which would be easier to deal with, frankly, if his nearness didn’t affect her so much. As it stood, her thoughts scattered like dandelion fluff on a spring breeze whenever he was close.

  She scooped up some raspberries from a chilled dish on one of the kitchen islands and dumped them on her china plate next to a few wedges of cheese and some baguette slices. She’d given up searching the party for April Stephens, the woman she’d met at their shared dress fitting earlier in the day. April had seemed like a promising lead for more information about the Mesa Falls Ranch owners since she, too, was in Montana to investigate the finances of Alonzo Salazar.

  But by all accounts, the woman had left the party alone shortly after Gage had pulled Elena aside to speak to her. As for the other ranch owners, she’d spotted Weston Rivera drinking by himself in a back den, and his brother, Miles, in a heated conversation with Desmond Pierce out by the pool in the backyard. But they’d both stopped talking as soon as she’d stepped outside, making it impossible for her to overhear anything.

  And Gage, the only other owner on-site tonight, was never far from Elena’s side. Even now, he entered the kitchen moments behind her, balancing a trio of half-empty champagne flutes in one hand.

  With his bow tie long gone, he looked deliciously disheveled. The top button of his tuxedo shirt was undone, and his five o’clock shadow had been darkening steadily as the evening wore on. She noticed that other women’s eyes followed him when he walked past. It provided some small comfort that she wasn’t the only person captivated by his dark good looks and athletic physique.

  But she knew better than to get involved. Again.

  “The catering staff not only serves the food, they provide cleanup afterward,” she noted, nodding to his handful of crystal stemware. “That’s what you pay them for.”

  “Thank you, Elena, for the entertaining tips. But when one is trapped in a room where the conversation has turned to which lipstick is the longest-wearing, the urge to escape by any means becomes overwhelming.” Setting the glasses in the sink, he joined her at the kitchen island. “May I join you?”

  He was already helping himself to half a baguette, not bothering with a plate. She hid a smile. His father might have poured a lot of time and money into cultivating an heir with posh manners and social savvy, but Gage had resisted at least some of the efforts to tame him.

  “Only if we can talk about something besides makeup.” She found a napkin and retrieved her glass of water to bring with her. “I’ve had all the party small talk I can bear, too.”

  It frustrated her that she’d learned so little about the Mesa Falls Ranch owners or Alonzo Salazar this evening. But maybe she could still learn something from her host.

  The crowd had thinned out considerably. The only guests still dancing in the great room were younger members of the celebrity entourages. It looked like one of the pop singers was deep in conversation with a European model Elena had spoken to only briefly. The party guests weren’t the kinds of people Gage had normally chosen to surround himself with, but then, the evening had been carefully planned by the ranch’s public relations staff to showcase Mesa Falls for young influencers who might bring more attention to the ranch’s environmental initiatives.

  She admired the intent, even if the crowd was far different from what she was used to. They all seemed so damned young.

  “Let’s sit at the breakfast bar.” He nodded toward the coffee station near the back windows overlooking the darkened pool area outside. “That way I can keep an eye on things until these people run out of gas.”

  Elena slid into the cushioned wraparound bench that surrounded the table on three sides. Even though it was close to the kitchen, the spot was quiet since the catering staff was based in a mobile food preparation truck outside.

  Gage slid in to sit near her, closer than she’d expected him to. To converse? Or to prove his point about her not being indifferent? Glancing over at him, she had to concede that she couldn’t read the nuances of his expression anymore. Or perhaps he’d cultivated a greater skill in keeping his thoughts to himself since she’d known him. No doubt that was a formidable asset in his business dealings.

  “So how long are you in town for?” she asked as she unfolded a linen napkin and laid it over her lap. She might as well dig for answers from the only Mesa Falls Ranch owner she knew personally. “You mentioned staying in Montana beyond tonight, but the last I knew your full-time residence was in Palo Alto.”

  He’d only just purchased that property when she’d met him. They’d talked about moving in together before things fell apart on the ill-fated trip to New Zealand to meet his family.

  “It has been my home base ever since I purchased it.” He tore the baguette in half and offered her a piece, but she shook her head. “But Weston is looking for someone else to oversee the ranch full-time.”

  Sitting so close to him called forth old memories. His aftershave was the same; since they’d broken up, the scent had sometimes tempted her in her dreams.

  Dropping a few raspberries into her chilled water, she tried to refocus on their conversation, needing to learn what she could from him.

  “Is Weston leaving the group?” she asked, mentally reviewing what she knew about the six partners. Weston Rivera was the younger of the Rivera brothers, both of whom owned a stake in the ranch. Weston had diverse investments around the country—mostly in fast-growth start-ups that had made him a very rich man. Miles Rivera ran their family’s ranch in the foothills of the Sierra Nevada Mountains in central California.

  “No. But now that we’re beginning to attract tabloid attention—” he paused to give her a meaningful look “—Weston doesn’t want to be solely responsible for overseeing the security and privacy of the guests.”

  Either that, or he wanted help ensuring the ranch owners’ secrets were kept on lockdown. She was willing to bet the latter.

  “So you’re moving here more permanently?” She couldn’t envision Gage retreating from the world in this remote corner of western Montana.

  He might not have gone into politics like his father wanted, and he definitely didn’t fit the same spit-shined image his father projected, but he had inherited his family’s comfort in social situations. More than that, he was good with people, and seemed to enjoy working in team settings, not on isolated ranches.

  “For now, yes.” He stabbed a fat strawberry with his dessert fork. “We’ll see how the year unfolds with all the media interest in Alonzo.”

  She sipped her water and watched the antics in the great room as two young men held a dance-off for the enjoyment of the six or seven ladies draped on Gage’s leather sofas. Suit jackets discarded, the men spun on the toes of their slick dress shoes and performed hip swivels that had the women cheering and whistling.

  The DJ seemed oblivious, spinning records and nodding to herself as she cued one song after another. One of her headphones had slipped off her ear.

  “If you keep hosting house parties like this one, your time in town won’t be boring,” Elena observed lightly, amazed at the agility of the dancers.

  Gage looked into the great room and shook his head. “I’m not sure living room dance battles are going to provide much entertainment. Besides, I like ranch life. Don’t forget, I grew up on a cattle station before my father turned his attention to politics.”

  In fact, that detail of his past had slipped her mind. But now it all came back to her. They’d made plans to see the cattle station
on her trip to New Zealand with him. But before they could, his father had intervened to confront Elena about her relationship with Gage. She’d flown home early. Alone.

  She was still lost in thought when the DJ finished her set. A woman Elena guessed was part of the ranch’s PR staff arrived in the great room to urge the last of the guests into the swag room, enticing them with the promise of luxe goods and a fitting for a custom Stetson. The great room suddenly went quiet, as the group shuffled out, drinks in hand.

  “What about you?” Gage asked, as she realized they were now alone. “How will you fare in the remote mountains, far from LA life?”

  Awareness drifted around her like smoke, clinging to her skin. And yet, remembering how things had ended between them, she forced herself back down to earth. The pain of losing him had led her to a rebound marriage that nearly destroyed her life. She couldn’t give Gage any sway over her again.

  “In light of my legal battles with my ex, taking some time to clear my head and commune with nature will be a good thing.”

  Gage made himself a stack of cheese slices and crackers, building his next bite with architectural care that relayed how hard he was working not to show his feelings, too. “I’m having a tough time envisioning you communing with nature.”

  “I may not have grown up on a cattle station, but I spent my youth in the California desert, sleeping under the stars as often as I slept under a roof. It was remote in its own way.” She let herself smile at the good memories. It had taken years of therapy for her to tease out the happy times among the sad and scary ones with her alcoholic mother, but Elena made an effort now. “I hope to explore all that the ranch has to offer.”

  She’d tried on a lot of hats since running away from home at seventeen. She’d been a beauty influencer with her online makeup tutorials and endorsements that had helped finance college courses. A businesswoman in the years Gage had known her. Then, after that, a supportive wife to her husband’s career. None of those things had worked out for her.