Heartbreaker

by Joanne Rock

  “Keep in mind that he wrote the book as fiction, and changed all the names, so I don’t believe it was his intention to hurt anyone with it.” Gage tipped back the brim of his hat to feel the sun on his face, breathing in the spring air to help cool the desire for Elena that was never far from the surface. “Remember the book was out for over a year before some Hollywood gossip columnist got a hold of it and decided to make a game out of matching up the characters to real people. That’s when the fascination with the story began on a large scale, not because Alonzo billed it as anything true-to-life.”

  “I’ll definitely revisit that.” She nodded thoughtfully, her gaze flicking back to his. “I’d forgotten about that. I think the media frenzy took hold around the time we were dating.”

  The months they’d been so wrapped up in each other that they hadn’t done much of anything else but talk, touch and make love.

  “No wonder it didn’t make an impression with us back then.” He couldn’t imagine how she’d left a relationship as intense as theirs only to turn right around and marry someone else. He’d been hurt by that all over again, thinking right up until he’d seen the engagement announcement that she would change her mind.

  “No wonder.” A ghost of a smile, fleeting and faint, chased over her features. “So you and your partners have decided to withhold judgment until you know more. But what happens when Devon Salazar’s financial forensics investigator reveals where Alonzo was funneling profits from the story? No matter what his original intentions, you have to admit it doesn’t look good for him to pocket the royalties and essentially profit off someone else’s heartache.”

  Gage hadn’t realized how thoroughly Elena had done her homework, but clearly she knew about April Stephens and her visit to Mesa Falls Ranch.

  “My guess is that he didn’t personally profit, which is why I’m not jumping on the bandwagon to condemn the guy.” He shrugged his shoulders, ready to move on. “And you shouldn’t either until you know more.”

  “You’re really going to try to pretend you’re as in the dark as I am about this?” she pushed.

  “I know more than you only because I considered Alonzo a friend, and I know his character. He wasn’t a good dad to his sons, but I like to think he tried to make up for that by being a father figure to my friends and me.” Rolling his shoulders, Gage reached for the key in the ignition to start the vehicle. “And on that note, let’s move on.”

  “Wait.” She laid her hand on his, halting him before he could turn the engine over. “Why not tell me the good things about him, then? How did you and the other owners end up as lifelong friends with a teacher from your boarding school?”

  Her touch short-circuited his brain, preventing him from answering even if he’d wanted to. Which he most definitely did not. Instead, he captured her hand in his, holding it.

  “Can we have a conversation, not an interrogation?” he asked, running his thumb over the backs of her knuckles for a moment, savoring the feel of her skin. “Maybe save some of your questions for dinner tonight?”

  She shook her head as she withdrew her fingers. “I don’t have the luxury of pursuing answers at my leisure, Gage. This is my job, and I don’t get paid until I have a story.”

  He noticed she didn’t address the dinner invitation. Because she didn’t want to spend more time with him? Or because she suspected it would lead them to act on the heat sparking between them?

  “That seems like a mercenary approach.” He would be meeting with the other ranch owners later. Even if he couldn’t reach Devon Salazar before then, he’d at least be able to talk to Wes to see if he’d gleaned anything from April about her investigation. The two of them had obviously hit it off. “You’ll notice I’m not talking to anyone else from the tabloids, so it’s not like anyone will beat you to the story.”

  “What if you don’t have the answers I need?” she asked, her words trailing off as a herd of bighorn sheep stepped into view just below the ridge. “Oh wow,” she breathed reverently, all her focus on three ewes at the head of the group. “What are they?”

  “Bighorn sheep.” He glanced sideways at her. “You’ve never seen one before?”

  “Never. Although I might have seen little ones without the heavy horns and thought they were goats.” She started recording a video on her phone. The screen showed the animals up close.

  He pointed to the ewes at the head of the group. “They’d be some big goats,” he teased, liking the smile that curved her lips in response.

  She’d been stunning the night before in her vibrant crimson dress, but he was even more captivated by her now, her skin free of any makeup, her mouth a soft shade of rosy pink. One dark curl teased across her cheek in the breeze while the tail of her scarf flapped close to his cheek as he leaned closer to watch with her.

  He breathed in her clean scent, remembering the way she used to dot lavender essential oil behind each ear instead of perfume. And, as if that one small reminiscence had been the dam holding back all the rest, memories rushed at him like a rogue wave. Sitting behind her in a tub full of rose petals and washing her hair. Driving up the Pacific Coast Highway with her in the passenger seat of his BMW Z8 roadster, the sounds of Big Sur mingling with her laughter. Undressing her in the private elevator on the way up to their penthouse suite in Seattle on a business trip.

  “But I’m no wildlife expert,” she exclaimed, snapping him out of his reverie. “How would I know?”

  She tapped the screen to stop recording, then turned to catch him staring.

  For a moment, the past and present blurred. Maybe it was because he wished he still had the right to wrap her in his arms and taste her. Tempt her into forgetting everything else but how good he could make her feel.

  Her breath caught before she spoke.

  “Whatever you’re thinking,” she said with a husky note in her voice until she cleared her throat and started again, “is a mistake.”

  The determination in her tone helped redirect his brain. Straightening in his seat, he nodded.

  “Should we get out and walk around? Stretch our legs?” he offered, not sure there was enough fresh air in the Bitterroot Range to help him keep his thoughts off Elena’s lips.

  But he’d damned well try.

  He’d shouldered the burden of being the point man at Mesa Falls to give Weston a break from a job he’d done so well for years. He couldn’t spill all of the owners’ secrets to the first reporter who showed up. Even if this particular reporter was causing heat to creep up his spine and flare along his shoulders.

  “Sure.” She unlatched the simple door that was more like a roll bar, and stepped outside before he could offer her his hand. “It will help me break in the new boots.”

  Fixing his attention on her legs was almost as dangerous as thinking about the past they’d shared. Both fueled flames he wasn’t sure how to tamp down. Cursing himself for the lack of focus, he emerged from the vehicle and met her behind it, pointing to a trail that led down to the creek.

  “Let’s go this way.” He wrenched off his jacket and tossed it in the cargo bed along with his Stetson. “It’s warming up,” he noted, tugging his long sleeves higher.

  Elena’s gaze dropped to his forearms, and he remembered her fascination with his tattoos. Seeing the way her dark eyes wandered over him, he vowed to send a generous bonus to the guy back home in New Zealand who’d done the distinctive work.

  Because yeah, it was a blissful relief to know he wasn’t the only one battling an attraction.

  “Can I ask you something?” When she looked into his eyes, her expression was thoughtful. Curious.

  “As long as it’s not about Alonzo—”

  She was already shaking her head. “We never spoke after the day I flew home alone from New Zealand. But I’ve always wondered about something.”

  He tensed, guessing he wouldn’t like whatever came next. S
o much for thinking she might be feeling the old attraction, too. “That was the second-worst day of my life,” he admitted, already raw from battling the draw of this woman. “I don’t remember it that well.”

  But she kept going, her chin tilting up as she met his gaze. “When your father told you to break things off with me because my family would be an embarrassment to the Strikers, did you even consider asking me about it first?”

  Five

  Elena’s defensiveness was ratcheting up in equal measure to her attraction.

  The sight of those tattoos crawling up Gage’s forearms had given her vivid memories of times his arms had been pinned to the bed on either side of her, muscles flexing while he moved over her. She’d been moments away from swooning on the spot. So she’d reached for the verbal sword and shield to hang on to the old sense of betrayal. She wasn’t proud of herself for the predictable antics, but she was too susceptible to Gage’s brand of sex appeal.

  “My father confronted you before he shared his findings with me,” Gage reminded her quietly, peering out over the herd of sheep still emerging from the pine grove before he brushed past her to keep walking. “I had zero time to process anything he said about you before he finished with his coup de grâce—that you’d already accepted his bribe to remove yourself from my life.”

  She wanted to believe that she heard a hint of regret in his voice. Over losing her? Or over the fact that she’d hidden her past for the entire duration of their relationship?

  Probably the latter, she thought as she hurried to keep up with him. She might not have accepted the payoff, but she was hardly blameless in the breakup. She’d started packing her things before she’d even talked to Gage. It was interesting to realize she’d been that defensive even then—already protecting herself from getting dumped by being the one to walk away first.

  “I was furious with him,” she admitted, pulling out her phone to snap some more photos of the sharp cliffs jutting up from the creek bed. She appreciated having something to do with her nervous energy during an awkward conversation. “I felt embarrassed, too, that I’d been waiting for the perfect moment to tell you about my family and in doing that, I’d lost the chance to share that story in a less damning light.”

  She switched over to video mode and filmed another minute of the sheep making their way down to the creek bed, hoping she could find a way to make the nature footage fun for her followers. She was losing her edge in a competitive digital marketplace. One more thing her divorce had cost her since she could no longer afford to attend the kinds of parties and events that people loved to see in her feed.

  “Your father was on the run from the law. Is there a way to put a good face on that?” Gage moved farther down the hill leading to the creek, his long strides making it easy for him to cover a lot of ground.

  At least the cheerful chirp of birds all around them helped her to detach from the frustration that normally came from discussing her father.

  “Of course not. He’s a thief, and he should have turned himself in long ago.” She hadn’t seen her dad since she’d left home at seventeen bound for LA, but she’d always imagined him living in Mexico now, freed from the burden of raising a daughter. “At the time, he convinced me that he couldn’t possibly do that—turn himself in—because my mother had left us, and there would be no one to look after me if he went to prison.”

  “Or so he said.” Gage kept trekking down the slope, winding around boulders and trees. As Elena followed, the sound of rushing water grew louder. “But was your welfare really his top priority if he’s still running from justice over a decade later?”

  “Of course not. But when I was fifteen and still living at home, I will confess I was rooting for him to elude the cops every time we had a close call. If he’d gone to jail, I would have been in the foster system.”

  “But instead of telling me that, you decided to take the cash my father offered you.” He shook his head, obviously still thinking the worst of her.

  And didn’t that remind her exactly why she’d chosen to leave him in the first place?

  “You made it clear what you thought about me,” she retorted, anger coursing through her. “There was no way we could have stayed together after that.”

  Her boot heel skidded on dead leaves, and she stuck a hand out to grab Gage’s shoulder.

  With lightning-fast reflexes, he reached back to steady her, his hands bracketing her waist. Her heart pounded from his touch. His sudden nearness. All that delectable maleness reminding her that she’d deliberately married someone who didn’t make her insides melt, hoping she’d be safe from the rush of strong emotions that made her feel unstable. Unpredictable.

  “Are you okay?” He stood too close, fixing her with his gaze, his strong hands lingering on her.

  She remained very still, not sure if she was more worried that he wouldn’t let go of her—or that he would. Because he was in front of her on the downward incline, his eyes were almost level with hers. He was close enough she could see the fine scar above one eyebrow that she knew was from a hiking accident long ago. She’d kissed that place before, and demanded to know the story.

  Too many memories.

  “Fine.” She forced the words past her lips, her throat dry as she tried to hold on to the anger she’d been feeling just a moment before. “I just wasn’t looking where I was going.”

  His fingers fell away from her, but he didn’t step back. For a moment, he seemed to take her measure.

  “We’re almost there, anyway. I thought you might like to see this.” He nodded to his left, where a deer path seemed to lead down a steeper ledge. “Will you take my hand for about ten more steps?”

  She wondered why he bothered when he thought so little of her.

  He held out an upturned palm, letting her choose. It made her think of how prickly she’d become since their breakup. Not just with him, but probably even with Tomas. She hadn’t always been that way—ready to lash out at any moment.

  As much as she wanted to protect herself from hurt, she refused to be the kind of person who assumed the worst about everyone. Wordlessly, she laid her palm on his and wrapped her fingers around the back of his hand.

  He tightened his grip, leading her down the short embankment to a place where the copse of pine trees opened up, revealing a new view of the creek. Water sluiced down a rocky incline so fast a mist rose above the falls. Glossy dark boulders jutted from either side. The sound of the surge filled the clearing.

  “It’s so pretty.” She still held his hand, remembering the last time they’d stood on an embankment overlooking crashing water. “Montana’s answer to Big Sur.”

  His gaze flicked away from the view and over to her, the shared memory hanging between them. They’d been so incandescently happy that trip up the Pacific Coast Highway, drunk on new love and letting it carry them away. How naive she’d been to think that could last.

  She would bet his thoughts were veering down that same dark path, because his expression clouded. He gave a clipped nod of acknowledgment before he turned around to retrace their steps.

  “I have a meeting with the other owners this afternoon,” he said as he started up the steep path, tugging her with him. “We should get back.”

  Retracing her steps up the cliff path beside him, Elena told herself to count it as a victory that she’d weathered the afternoon without letting the old heat between them burn her. But seeing how much the memories affected him, too, didn’t feel like a win. Hollowness yawned inside her. She wanted answers to the Alonzo mystery soon so she could leave Montana—and Gage—behind her for good.

  * * *

  Gage half expected Elena to follow him into the private library outside his home office, where he was holding the owners’ meeting. She’d made no secret of being in town only for her story.

  But she was nowhere in sight as he keyed in the code for the door, a securi
ty necessity given his work in investment banking and his access to extremely sensitive financial information. Could Elena be rethinking her decision to stay here with him? Their walk back from the waterfall had been silent and awkward, as though their shared past was riding shotgun in the utility vehicle with them on the way home.

  She’d made it clear she wouldn’t revisit that time any more than he wanted to. Yet no matter how much they pummeled back the past, it seemed determined to weigh into every conversation. Her casual mention of that day at Big Sur shouldn’t have the power to set fire to his nerve endings, but he’d still ended up standing under a freezing-cold shower stream as soon as they’d returned from the tour.

  “Wait up, Gage. Right behind you,” a familiar male voice called to him before he could pull the door shut.

  Peering back, he saw Desmond Pierce charging down the hall toward him, his tie a little askew, but other than that still looking like Mr. Hollywood with his crisp white dress shirt and no hair out of place. His aviator shades glinted under the hallway lights.

  “Hiding a hangover under the shades?” Gage asked as he held the door.

  “Hardly,” Desmond answered drily, pulling off the sunglasses and tucking them into his breast pocket. “Night in and night out, I get to see the way my guests let alcohol make their decisions on the casino floor. I’m probably the soberest guy you know.” He paused in the threshold to keep the door open. “Miles is right behind me. He’s talking to your security guard in the foyer. Smart move keeping the bodyguards here through the weekend with all the celebrity guests coming and going.”

  Desmond owned and operated a handful of casino resorts, spending most of his time at his first operation on Lake Tahoe, close to where two other Mesa Falls Ranch owners lived—Jonah Norlander and Alec Jacobsen—both of whom were MIA this weekend.

  “What about Weston?” Gage pressed the button to partially open the blinds.