“Again, what the hell are you doing here? Don’t you knock?” he asked, his voice laced with anger.
“I’m sorry, but you told me to get Ms. Butler’s phone on the bed. I didn’t think you were in here.”
A muscle bunched in his jaw. “She’s staying in the cabin. Along with everyone else from New York.”
“I’m—I’m sorry,” she stammered. “I just assumed she was staying up here.”
“She’s not.”
Why not? she wanted to cry out, desperate to make sense of this man so she could protect herself.
But there was no asking questions now. He had no clothes on, and his relationship with Nikki was none of her business. None absolutely.
Kirsten needed to concentrate on coldness.
And it was very hard to think about the cold as she stared at a naked Seth Morgan, his high, tight buttocks reflecting back at her from a cheval mirror.
“Miss Meadows, you’re excused.” His gaze raked her. “Unless, of course, you want to come in and lock the door.”
Backing away as if from a bee sting, she shook her head and fumbled for the door. His nudity frightened and aroused her, all at the same time. It brought a rush of emotions she longed to repress. Horrified, she wondered how she would ever keep him from her thoughts when she now had him burned forever in her memory.
She took her escape gladly. She ran from the bedroom, his laughter following her the entire way.
“He’s being his usual obnoxious self. I mean, he has the nerve to put me in the guest cabin with everyone else, can you believe it?”
Nikki’s upset words to her agent over her cell phone registered all too well with Kirsten when she arrived shortly after retrieving Nikki’s cell phone from the guest cabin for her. The model was in a difficult mood in spite of languishing by the pool, and Kirsten could almost sympathize with her. That morning she herself wasn’t feeling too gracious, either.
“Oh, honey,” Nikki called out to her, her hand on the mouthpiece, “can you see to it that I’ve got a magnum of champagne in the cabin? Thanks.” She went back to her cell phone. “That ought to do it.”
“Certainly,” Kirsten said, her insides crawling at the name honey. To Nikki everyone was honey—Viola, Kirsten, Jim the ranch manager. The only one who wasn’t was Seth Morgan.
Kirsten got the champagne from the wine cellar and brought it to the guest cabin that was nestled in the rock just out of view from the house. Setting a couple of crystal flutes on the copper counter, she placed the champagne in the fridge, her thoughts a million miles away from her task.
In many ways Nikki Butler was perfect for Seth. She was gloriously beautiful, so much so that their mistress would be hard-pressed to be prettier. Nikki would also tolerate any of Seth’s bad behavior to get her hands on the next bit of loot, and all would be happy.
But for some reason the thought of Nikki and Seth just made Kirsten sad. Certainly Seth Morgan was one of the most cynical, jaded men she had ever met. But there was something inside him, something very human. As numb as he was to intolerable behavior, at least he was cynical about it. It showed some kind of fight in him, some kind of reaction to it all instead of being blithely accepting.
Hazel saw something in him, too, and one day Kirsten wanted to ask her about it. The cattle baroness never ever sold her land. For her to have given Seth an unheard-of amount of family land meant Hazel viewed him as worthwhile.
Kirsten smiled to herself. Ironic though it was, it was hard to see Seth’s worth at times, with all the blinding riches around him.
From the window she watched as Seth arrived at the pool. He took a dive off the board, splashing Nikki. His head broke the surface, and he was all wolfish smile and glittering water. Behind him, the mountains ripped upward, their cracked tops frozen with ice.
His wealth could dig a hole in the ground and build a pool, an unnecessary extravagance in the cool Montana summer, but there was nothing the man could do about the mountains. The mountains were there, untouchable and magnificent. The pool and the mountains—style versus substance.
And Kirsten wanted substance, while Nikki wanted style.
Kirsten supposed that was what bothered her. She told herself she wasn’t necessarily falling for Seth Morgan. Sure, they’d kissed, and it had been…well, breathtaking. Like the mountains.
But deep down she suspected that Seth Morgan was more than just style.
Yet Nikki would win. It was inevitable.
And then there would be no more hot kisses, no more cold streams rushing through their legs, no more talks on horseback. There would be no more mountains.
Strangely depressed, Kirsten sighed and gathered herself. She wasn’t necessarily falling in love with Seth, but at times it sure felt like it.
Like now, when she watched him frolic with his model by the pool. In truth, Kirsten wanted to rip him away from the whole scene, to ease her jealousy.
To ease the heartache she felt whenever she saw things of substance slip away.
Four
Friday afternoon Kirsten watched the men set up the bandstand for the barbecue.
The two-step band she’d hired was one she knew well. She only hoped that James, the lead singer in Mystery’s best cowboy band, would let bygones be bygones.
They’d dated for less than a month, and it just hadn’t been right. Their personalities didn’t mesh, but worse than that, James hadn’t understood her. He’d continually mistaken her reserve and caution for being stuck-up.
It wouldn’t have worked with James, but he’d been sore when she’d told him. She only prayed he was attached to someone else by now. Otherwise the barbecue could be most unpleasant, because James had the ability to swill beer like a good ol’ boy.
Pushing her anxieties aside, she watched another group of workers set down a portable oak dance floor for two-stepping.
All in all it looked as if the barbecue should be a success. The weather was supposed to be warm and dry. A beautiful Montana sky full of stars was the perfect backdrop for waltzing.
She looked away for a moment, suddenly feeling more like Cinderella than the boss’s assistant. The fantasy of dancing in the arms of a man she loved beneath her beloved Montana sky was too much to resist. But every time the daydream took hold, the man she found herself dancing with was Seth Morgan. And that only depressed her more.
“Have the others arrived from the airport yet?” Nikki whined, sipping her umpteenth glass of chardonnay.
Kirsten saw that the model had left poolside just to speak to her.
“I don’t know. Their flight was to arrive by now, but I haven’t seen Mr. Morgan in the Jeep.” Kirsten eyed the tall, beautiful model.
As horrible as it had been to get through last night without thinking of Seth and Nikki together, Kirsten almost believed Nikki was having a harder time. The woman looked caved-in, and she’d been at the wine since way before noon.
Kirsten bit back all the questions she had. Her boss’s relationship with his girlfriend was not her concern, but there were so many things going through her head. As it was, hope and despair played a ridiculous game of tug-of-war inside her heart, and she really wanted the torture to end.
“He’d better show up soon,” the model sniped, “that’s all I know. If he’s going to fly me to the middle of nowhere and take away all my fun, then I damn well plan on getting some from Rick.”
Shocked, Kirsten at least put together that Rick was one of Seth’s friends coming to town from New York.
“Maybe he’s just distracted—you know, getting the barbecue together and all.” Kirsten wondered why she was even speaking. First of all, it was clear the model didn’t want her advice and sympathy any more than she’d want that from a table leg. And if Kirsten were truthful to herself, she knew good and well she didn’t want to encourage a relationship between Nikki and Seth. Seth sure as all-fire wasn’t getting the barbecue together; rather, that was Kirsten’s job, and she had the pulled-out hair to show for it.
Kirsten could definitely feel a headache coming on.
“And now,” the model rambled, half-drunk, “now he calls me all the way from New York to visit his lodge and puts me in the guest house—the cheating jerk.” Nikki looked at her. “So who is the other woman? Has he been inviting someone else up here?”
Kirsten’s heart stopped.
Paling, she stammered, “I—I have no idea.”
“C’mon. I know you’re just protecting the boss, but really, woman to woman, is it that actress he was seen with his last night in New York? Or is he going back to that Parisian as everyone says he will?”
Stupefied, Kirsten didn’t have a clue how to answer her. She wanted to cry out that they’d shared a kiss and maybe, just maybe, the man wanted something more in a woman than a size two hardbody.
Kirsten just shook her head and shrugged and asked if she could refill the woman’s glass.
Nikki handed her the empty wineglass.
Always the cool one, always the one to solve everyone else’s problems, Kirsten brutally shoved aside her hope and went to get the refill. She got to the kitchen door just as the Jeep pulled up in front of the house. Seth was back. And with a bunch of partying guests that Kirsten knew she had to attend to whether she wanted to or not.
“So how can I get a personal assistant just like you, Ms. Meadows?” Rick Conway asked, his wolfish grin disavowed by the twinkle in his green eyes.
“You can’t,” Seth interrupted, giving Rick a quelling glance as he passed him on the trail.
Kirsten wanted to laugh. They’d been on the trail for an hour. Rick, another model named Skya and a broker named Bob, who clearly had the hots for Skya, rode together with Seth and Nikki. Kirsten had been asked to lead the group, since she knew Hazel’s trails better than the ranch manager.
Rick pulled his quarter horse alongside Sterling. “But on the slim chance Mr. Morgan isn’t paying you a fair salary for your—ah—services, Ms. Meadows, you know you can always—”
“Ask for an increase,” Seth barked.
Rick laughed. “What is she? Your employee or a shareholder?”
“Why don’t you harass Nikki instead, you dog.” Seth smirked.
“Yes, why don’t you harass me, Rick—sexually is preferred,” Nikki chimed in from the back of the trail.
Kirsten cringed at the jab to Seth, but he didn’t seem to notice.
“Pardon me, my lady.” Rick took off his cowboy hat and bowed his head to Kirsten. “But if I’m to be sued for harassment, I’d much prefer Nikki’s lawyers than Seth’s. Alas…”
He reined in his horse and left for the rear.
Kirsten giggled. Rick was funny, but what made him hopelessly charming was the fact that he made fun of himself even more than others—an unusual trait, she figured, in the mega-ego world of stockbrokers.
“I should have warned you about him. To him, his whole life is one big party.” Seth pulled Noir up alongside Kirsten’s horse.
“He’s fine. Not a problem.” She stole a glance at him.
Seth looked like one of the cowboys who worked on Hazel’s range. He hadn’t shaved, and dust from the trail coated his hat and jaw. From beneath the brim, he met her gaze with a shadowed stare.
She wished she could say that he didn’t wear the dirt and grime well, but deep down she had to admit he looked even sexier than when she’d first seen him in his immaculately tailored business suit.
“After dinner we’ll be going into town for a drink,” Seth said. “I figure you might like a night off before the barbecue.”
She nodded. She’d seen her mother and sister only once since she’d returned to Mystery from New York. “Thank you.”
He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but then thought better of it.
Then suddenly, as if angry at himself, he jerked Noir around and loped toward Nikki.
Kirsten didn’t look back. Instead, she began a monotone travelogue of historical tidbits about the valley for the benefit of Bob and Skya, who looked as if they couldn’t care less. But she cared, and she continued motoring her mouth uselessly.
Anything to keep her mind off the boss.
Carrie, Kirsten’s sister, sat next to her on the couch, curled up in her arms. The eleven-year-old recounted the latest inexplicable fashion fad.
“And then you clip your hair up with these glittery ponytail holders and that’s it.”
“I’m exhausted—and you plan on doing this to your hair every day?” Kirsten asked with a smile.
“But it’d be really cute on you,” Carrie offered.
“Not as cute as on you.”
“Dinner’s ready.”
Kirsten looked up. Her mother stood by the living-room door, dressed in a denim shift and sandals. For the first time in ages, Kirsten thought, her mother didn’t look tired.
“Retirement agrees with you, Mom,” she said, hugging her. “I can’t remember the last time I didn’t see circles under your eyes.”
“Nonsense. I’m going back to work just as soon as my hair’s a little longer.” Jenn Meadows smoothed the baby-fine hair coming in around her face.
“Viola keeps her hair real short. A few whimsical pairs of earrings and you’ll look great.”
“Who’s Viola?” Carrie asked.
“She’s Seth’s housekeeper,” Kirsten answered.
Her mother looked at her quizzically. “Seth?” she asked.
“Mr. Morgan,” Kirsten added hastily.
In a move of self-preservation, she changed the subject. “Now that I’ve got the income, I just wanted you to know that I called about buying this place, Mom. I think I’d be so much smarter to just own this old cottage and quit throwing the money away on rent.”
“But you don’t even live here, honey,” Jenn protested,
Kirsten winked at Carrie. “Yes, but you and Carrie live here—and who knows, Mr. Morgan may go out of town for months at a time. I might be back here more than you think.”
“I don’t know about that. As soon as I’ve had a rest, I’m looking for another job.”
Kirsten sat at the table, grateful to be home if only for the evening. “When you feel up to it, Mom, you can get another job, but doesn’t it feel great to know you can go out there and do something you’d enjoy rather than just something that’s going to pay the rent?”
Jenn seemed overtaken with emotion. She was quiet for a long moment, then she took Kirsten’s hand and squeezed it. “That would feel wonderful, darling, but you have to promise me you feel that way about working for Mr. Morgan. Otherwise, if I found out you were miserable just to pay our rent, I don’t know what I would do.”
“I love my job, Mom. Really.” Kirsten gave her a smile and quickly turned her attention to her dinner.
There was no way she was ever going to tell her mother about all the complications. In fact, looking at her mother so rested and content, Kirsten only became more determined to make her job less complicated.
She could do it, too. It would take some discipline. She’d have to rid herself of daydreams. But she could do it. Besides, in all probability, Seth would get bored with Montana and go back to New York for long stints. That would make it easier. And who knew. He and Nikki might make up and get married. That’d solve all the complications.
Heartsick, she began to eat her dinner, unaware of her mother’s scrutinizing looks throughout the entire meal.
“There’s the girl Friday right now! And hey, it is Friday!” Rick Conway jumped into Kirsten’s path on the sidewalk.
After dinner she’d walked downtown from her mother’s place so she could check on a few details before the barbecue tomorrow. James was one of those dangling little knots. She wanted to have a promise that he wouldn’t act up if he was going to play with the band. But she couldn’t get anywhere now with Rick
blocking her path.
“Hello, Mr. Conway. I see you’ve been enjoying Mystery’s many authentic saloons.” She wrinkled her nose at the smell of whiskey on his breath.
“This place is fantastic. There’s a good old cowboy bar on every corner.”
She smiled. “You don’t have to try them all tonight—just a little tip, being a native here and all.”
“Why so formal? I know you’re not as cold as you’d like to be. I mean, c’mon, you get all my jokes. How cold can you be?”
The earnestness on his face made her laugh aloud.
“See what I mean?” He took a staggering step toward her.
“Did your companions abandon you, Mr. Conway? Would you like me to call Jim to take you back to the ranch?”
“Naw. They’re right behind me. Just having another spat. So what’d you do to that guy? He’s really upset Nikki—I told her she could bunk with me tonight if she’s as lonely as she says she is.”
“I—I—haven’t done anything,” she stammered, his drunken comment catching her off guard.
“He’s got his radar on you good. So good.” He snorted. “And that damn beautiful Nikki can’t seem to figure out that the other woman’s right under her perfect nose.”
“No—no really—” Kirsten protested.
“No—really,” he mimicked, then sobered. “Let me tell you, you seem like a nice woman. Seth’s one cold jerk, and Nikki’s just made for him. Just make sure you don’t get yourself hurt.” Rick leaned forward and whispered, “But if you do, I’m here. I’d love to comfort you, if you know what I mean.”
She stared at him, unable to form any words. Rick’s brazenness shocked her, terrified her even. She didn’t want to be in a position to have to rebuff one of the boss’s friends. But worst of all, his words about Seth’s radar renewed the hope that she was bent on killing.
“Thanks for the advice,” was all she could say before Nikki appeared, alone, sullen and demanding.
“What are you doing in town, Kirsten?” the model snipped.
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