by Cora Seton
If they hadn’t already.
“Cut!” Madelyn said with a sigh. “We’re filming back story. Our viewers want to know what makes you tick and I think we just found out. You care more about those animals than you care about your own sex life. Kinda sad, but makes for great television. There’s our plane. Come on, everyone—get your gear together. We’ll board in ten minutes.”
Now, viewing their first night’s rustic accommodations, Bella wondered for the thousandth time how she’d survive this week. If she won, she’d have smooth sailing for the rest of her life and the means to save thousands of animals. If she lost, she’d lose everything—including herself, body and soul, for a year to a man who cared for nothing except making money. What a lonely, awful year it would be as the puppet wife for a callous, jaded businessman. And then what would she do? She’d have to go home to her parents, her tail tucked between her legs until some other veterinary clinic took pity on her and hired her on.
Maybe she could move to a larger town where the pound was separate from the veterinary clinics and she wouldn’t have to see the animals who were doomed to die.
She’d know they were out there, though. And she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving Chance Creek.
She had to win. That was all there was to it. No matter what, she had to win.
* * * * *
Several hours later, Evan stepped out of a second SUV and surveyed the log-framed lodge before him. As he took a long breath of the fresh mountain air, he acknowledged that this break from work was probably good for him. He’d return sharper, clearheaded.
He’d return with a wife.
She was in there somewhere, he thought as he ran his gaze over the rustic exterior of the lodge. A crew member informed him she’d arrived earlier and was already ensconced in her room. They’d meet over dinner tonight and hear a last round of rules and directions from Madelyn Framingham, and the taping would begin tomorrow morning at eight.
Would she be as lovely as her photograph?
What would their wedding night be like?
He knew he needed to keep his mind on the contest to come, but the idea of a wedding night had preyed on his mind during the long ride to Jasper. His situation had made him a loner and he missed female companionship more than he’d admitted to himself. Generally he was too busy to give his choice to remain single a second thought, but he wasn’t a monk, and Bella was beautiful.
If they were man and wife they’d have to spend time together, right?
He hadn’t actually planned on that. He’d figured he’d set her up in one of his extra bedrooms, and spend more time than usual in his laboratories and on his trips. They’d barely need to see each other, except for the occasional public appearance to make it all seem on the up-and-up.
Now, however, he was rethinking that strategy. With the question of marriage and money already solved, maybe he and Bella could enjoy each other’s company. Get to know each other.
Have some fun.
Something stirred to life within him; a part of himself he’d done his best to ignore for quite a long time. Would Bella be different from the women he’d known? Could the two of them get beyond his money to the things that really mattered?
No. No woman had ever gotten past his money. Bella would be the same as the rest of them; why else would she go on a show like Can You Beat a Billionaire?
“Evan Mortimer. Welcome to Jasper!” Madelyn’s jarring voice brought him back to the present.
“Madelyn. Good to see you again.” He put the image of Bella out of his mind. This was just another business transaction.
“Come right in. Your room is ready for you. Dinner will be in one hour and we’ll let you get some rest.”
* * * * *
Bella smoothed her hands over the long denim skirt she wore, paired with a mint green shirt and leather sandals. She’d been instructed to bring clothes suited for intense outdoor activities, plus one casual but dressy outfit for this first dinner. She hoped she’d gotten it right. She wore simple, small hoop earrings and a silver bangle bracelet as her only jewelry, and she’d kept her makeup light. All in all she looked neat and fresh, she thought as she fluffed her hair. She wore it down around her shoulders in soft waves for this occasion. She planned to return to her usual pony-tail for the rest of the contest.
Taking a deep breath, she grabbed her purse, turned out the lights and let herself into the hall just in time to hear the clack of Madelyn’s unmistakable high heels. Would she wear them when they got to the outside portions of the show?
“You’re dressed, good. Let’s get you to makeup.” Madelyn waved her along the corridor.
“I’ve already done my makeup.” But Bella, caught up in the director’s wake, followed her helplessly to another room.
“Television requires different makeup. Bolder. Otherwise you’ll look like a cup of milk onscreen.” Madelyn opened the door and pushed her into a room where the beds had been removed and additional portable tables set up. Bella sat down uncertainly in the chair she indicated and a small, cheerful, middle-aged woman with curly auburn hair in a jumble on top of her head pounced on her, makeup brush in hand.
“I’m Natalie,” she said, swiping the brush over Bella’s face. “You’ll be seeing a lot of me, so get used to it!”
She set to work with a vengeance, covering Bella’s face, neck, upper body, and even her hands in foundation. She pencil-darkened her eyebrows, lined her eyes and applied shadow and mascara. She swiped various shades of blush and powder all over her cheeks, nose and forehead, lined her lips with a pencil and filled them in with lipstick. Bella felt like she was wearing a mask by the time all was said and done—a stiff, itchy, uncomfortable mask.
“Voila!” Natalie exclaimed, turning her toward the mirror.
Bella gazed at her reflection with horror. She looked as made up as a rodeo prostitute. “I’m sorry—I’m sure you’re very good at your job,” she said to Natalie, “but I look…” she waved a hand.
“The cameras will love it,” Natalie assured her. “You don’t wear makeup very much, do you? I made you up to look natural. If we were going for a glamour shot, I’d have applied twice as much.” She laughed at Bella’s expression. “Get going—you’ll be late for dinner.”
Madelyn snagged her as she left the room and dragged her back toward the main entrance of the lodge. Bella’s forehead itched, but she was afraid to scratch it. She was afraid to touch anything. She was uncomfortable and suddenly felt ridiculous in her denim skirt with Madelyn still dressed for the city.
“Maybe I should change,” she began as the woman tugged her toward the main dining room.
“Too late now,” Madelyn said. “Come on.”
* * * * *
Denim? For dinner? Evan bit back a smile as Madelyn ushered his opponent into the lodge’s dining room, hearing his mother’s critical voice in his head. He didn’t care what women wore, but she sure had, and she’d judged every eligible girl in sight on their poise and taste whenever they left the house. He stood up while Bella took her seat, then sat down again and took his time appraising her. She’d obviously also undergone the tortures of Natalie’s ministrations, but she seemed far more uncomfortable with the results than he was. Hell, he’d been on camera dozens of times as spokesman of Mortimer Innovations. Still, he was a guy—he should be the one holding himself stiffly, afraid to even fold his hands in his lap or take a sip from his water glass. A woman ought to wear enough makeup to be familiar with the process.
He suspected Bella thought a dab of eye shadow and a rub of lip gloss were adequate for any occasion. Would Amanda be able to give her a few hints when the time came for Bella to accompany him to charity balls and other events as his wife, or would the cowgirl step up her game on her own without help? He had no idea how he’d even bring up the matter. Maybe there were classes for that kind of thing. He made a mental note to have Amanda look into it. While she was at it, she could enroll Bella in business classes as well. Anyone who lost mo
ney as a veterinarian obviously needed to revisit the basics.
He allowed himself to smile at the pretty, miserable woman across the table, who became even more miserable when the television crew snapped on a series of bright lights and aimed their cameras at them. “Hi—I’m Evan Mortimer.” He reached out his hand.
Bella glanced at Madelyn, and extended her own to take his. “Bella Chatham. Nice to meet you.”
“Fine, fine, niceties dispensed with,” Madelyn said acerbically. “Here comes Jake. Let’s get this party started.”
Jake Cramer was Can You Beat a Billionaire’s legendary British host. With his upper-crust accent, he made a trip through a jungle or a wild ride down a river on a raft sound as elite as dinner at Buckingham Palace. The show’s writers gave him plenty of face time and snappy one-liners, Evan had learned when Amanda sent him a highlight video to watch for preparation. While the contestants tended to look like drowned rats by the end of the first episode, Jake remained spotless, well-tanned, and as poised as a debutante about to make her entrance.
“Welcome Bella, Evan,” Jake boomed as he entered the dining room. He shook hands with each of them, and took the third seat at the table. The cameras caught all of this, and Evan swore at least two of them were getting close-ups of Jake’s face at any moment. “Let’s get down to business, shall we?” He gave each of them a radiant smile and Evan wondered how much the man spent on his teeth. Not that he hadn’t spent a pretty penny, himself. “As you know, our contestants call this meal the last supper—because it’s the last time you’ll be well fed and indoors for the next five days. We’ve rounded up all kinds of adventures for you kids, so I hope you’re ready for the trip of a lifetime!”
He turned to face a camera. “This season, our contest pits billionaire Evan Mortimer against veterinarian Bella Chatham. As always, if Bella wins, she’ll walk away with five million dollars!” He patted Bella’s arm. “And if Evan wins,” he gave a big, toothy grin, “he’ll gain a wife for one year. That’s a different twist, isn’t it, folks?”
Evan tuned out his blather as he focused on Bella again. He had to admit her casual clothes fit her far better than the overdone television makeup did. She was worried—he could tell by her tight frown. Well, she ought to be—when it came to outdoor solo sports he bet he had a hell of a lot more experience than she did.
She glanced in his direction and her eyes widened when she saw him looking back at her. A slow blush crept up her neck and cheeks, but she didn’t look away. Even in all that makeup, her eyes were beautiful, hazel green with sweeping lashes that didn’t require any mascara.
“Evan, tell us,” Jake said, leaning forward. “If you had to pay the prize would you miss the five million dollars?”
Evan blinked. “Not at all, Jake,” he said, shifting his attention away from his adversary reluctantly. “First of all, I can find five million dollars between my couch cushions. Happened last week—true story!” He grinned for the audience. “Second of all, I’m not going to lose. I may have to slog through five days of your evil challenges, but I plan to walk out of here with my beautiful, new wife.”
The crew members grinned at each other, apparently happy with the way things were going so far. “Bella.” Jake turned his attention to her. “What about you? How will five million dollars change your life?”
“It won’t change my life very much,” Bella said. “But it will change the lives of Chance Creek, Montana’s animals a whole bunch. I’m a veterinarian who specializes in house pets—cats and dogs, things like that.” She hesitated and Jake nodded, urging her on. “Caring for the pets who have a home is no problem, but like most towns Chance Creek is filled with unwanted, stray and feral cats and dogs who would be rounded up and put down if it wasn’t for the voluntary services my clinic provides. We currently house and feed over a hundred animals and that number keeps growing. With five million dollars I could launch a spay and neutering program that would limit the number of feral cats and provide housing and health care for any animals who don’t find a forever home with a member of the public.”
“And if you lose?” Jake winked broadly at the camera. “What will it be like to be Evan Mortimer’s wife—the wife of a billionaire?”
Bella turned pale, and looked like she might be sick. “If I lose, I’ll lose my home and my clinic…and more than one hundred animals will lose their lives,” she stated baldly. “I don’t think I’ll care who my husband is if all that blood is on my hands.”
“Cut…cut!” Madelyn yelled. “For crying out loud, our audience doesn’t want to think about slaughtered animals. Try it again—you can’t say blood.”
Bella looked stunned and it was plain to Evan she hadn’t been acting, nor had she been trying to be melodramatic. She obviously believed that the animals she cared for would die if she lost. Her distress gave him a momentary pang of guilt, but he tamped it down. He’d take care of that little problem himself if he won by farming the animals out to a shelter and writing a check. Nothing to it.
Jake composed himself back into his high-eyebrowed pose. “And if you lose? What will it be like to be Evan Mortimer’s wife—the wife of a billionaire?” he repeated.
“Ummm….boring, I guess.” Bella shrugged. “I wouldn’t have anything to do.”
Boring? Evan felt like he’d been slapped. Being his wife would be boring? He was a billionaire, for crying out loud. Women would kill to marry him!
“Cut! Boring? Are you kidding me?” Madelyn stalked over to Bella. “This is television. Play to the audience. You can’t say boring. The audience doesn’t want to be bored. Never, ever say boring. Roll cameras!”
Jake leaned forward a third time as Evan tried to force a smile back to his own lips. Wouldn’t do to look like she’d surprised him. He planned to remain calm, unfluttered and completely in control at all times.
“And if you lose?” Jake boomed again. “What will it be like to be Evan Mortimer’s wife—the wife of a billionaire?”
Bella blew out a breath and looked straight at Evan.
“It’ll suck.”
* * * * *
Bella nearly laughed out loud at the look on Evan’s face. The hotshot must think every woman in the world was standing in line to marry him. What a pretentious, egotistical snob. Madelyn was bad enough for insinuating she’d blow her chance at five million dollars for the privilege of bedding down with Mr. Money for a year. Fat chance of that. If Fate truly hated her guts and she lost, she’d make the lawyers write it right into his precious pre-nuptial: No sex.
Evan was staring at her again, his dark eyes cold and hard. Oh, she’d ticked him off good, hadn’t she? Poor little rich boy was used to getting anything and everything he wanted at the snap of his fingers. Well, count her out of that game.
After a couple of chirpy comments about her answer, Jake launched into a description of their first day of competition.
“We will meet at the starting point tomorrow morning at eight. Good luck to both of you, get a good night’s sleep…and enjoy your final supper!”
On cue, two perky waitresses began to set platters heaped with delicious food upon the table, until the space between them was full of dishes, each one more appetizing than the last. Unfortunately, her appetite was gone, so while she scooped some salmon, new potatoes and salad onto her plate, she only picked at it. The cameras still rolled, which made her ultra-self-conscious about chewing, and she kept dabbing at her face with her cloth napkin for fear of drips.
“What made you become a veterinarian?” Evan asked, startling her so that she dropped her fork to her plate with a clatter.
“What do you mean?” she said, picking it up again. She didn’t feel like rehashing this question.
“Was there a particular incident with a pet that made you choose your line of work? A cat who met a bad end?”
“A dog, actually,” she forced herself to say, the muscles of her face tightening. “Caramel. A family pet.”
“What happened to her?”
<
br /> “She was struck by a car.”
“So you decided to save all the other dogs.”
She glanced up to see if he was making fun of her, but his voice had softened, and genuine sympathy shone in his eyes. Locked with Evan’s intelligent, questioning gaze, she sensed he was someone she could open up to.
Oh, hell no.
“I decided to do my best,” she said, hoping her clipped tone would signal an end to that line of questioning.
Evan studied her intently but changed tactics. “Have you done a lot of camping?”
Camping? “I was a girl scout for years,” she said cautiously.
“So…not for the last decade?” He helped himself to a steak.
Bella thought back. The last time she spent a night in a tent she’d been ten years old. “Something like that.”
“The gear has changed a lot.”
“Really?” She pretended to be bored—screw Madelyn—but secretly began to worry. What if she couldn’t pitch her tent at night? And what would it be like sleeping alone in a tent in this…wilderness? She didn’t scare easily, but this was bear country and as much as she hated horses…she hated bears more. She slid a glance at Madelyn who conversed in whispers with Ellis in the corner of the room. What would the director do if she found out about her fears?
Exploit them to the fullest, no doubt.
Her unease grew as she considered what she’d do if one of the challenges involved riding a horse. Could she get over her old fears and do it? Or would her campaign to win the show come to a screeching halt?
Would she lose and have to marry Evan?
“Yep. It’s no biggie for me, though,” Evan continued, oblivious to her rising panic. “I camp all the time. I like to rock climb, so I get out into the wilderness every chance I get.”
“You also brag every chance you get, don’t you?”