by Joanne Rock
Mesa Falls
The Key Players
Mesa Falls Ranch, Montana’s premier luxury corporate retreat, got its start when a
consortium bought the property.
The Owners
Weston Rivera, rancher
Miles Rivera, rancher
Gage Striker, investment banker
Desmond Pierce, casino resort owner
Alec Jacobsen, game developer
Jonah Norlander, technology company CEO
What do the owners have in common?
They all went to Dowdon School, where they
were students of the late Alonzo Salazar.
The Salazars
Alonzo Salazar (dec.), retired teacher at
Dowdon School, CEO of Salazar Media
Devon Salazar, copresident,
Salazar Media, Alonzo’s son
Marcus Salazar, copresident, Salazar Media, Alonzo’s son, Devon’s half brother
As these key players converge, dark secrets
come to light in Big Sky Country...
Where family loyalties and passions collide...
“I need to be sure you want to stay.”
Miles’s breathing was harsh. “Tell me, Chiara.”
“I’ve never felt the way you’re making me feel tonight,” Chiara confided. “But I’ve always wanted to. So, yes, I’m staying. I have to see what I’ve been missing all the years I chose work over...fun.”
“It’s going to be more than fun.”
“Promise?”
“If you make me a promise in return.”
“What is it?”
“I get a date after this. One where you’ll tell me why you’ve chosen work over fun for far too long.”
Her conscience stabbed her. Miles would probably hate her when he found out why she’d come. He’d never look at her the same way again—with heat and hunger in his eyes.
“Deal,” she told him simply, knowing he’d never follow through on a date once he understood.
He breathed his agreement over her lips. “Deal.”
* * *
The Rancher by Joanne Rock is part of the Dynasties: Mesa Falls series.
Joanne Rock
The Rancher
To the Rockettes,
for keeping me company
while I write.
Dear Reader,
Rancher Miles Rivera seemed like the last man in Montana who would have his head turned by a social media star. So it made me smile that Chiara Campagna is the woman to spin his life upside down when she comes to Mesa Falls looking for answers about her long lost friend who was once Miles’s classmate.
Welcome back to Mesa Falls, where old secrets are simmering into new scandals for the friends who own a Montana luxury ranch. Miles and Chiara turn up the heat when he catches her red-handed in his office. She’s in town only to uncover his secrets, but soon he’s uncovering her instead. When danger threatens her, however, Miles is more determined than ever to keep her close.
I hope you’re enjoying the series. Be sure to look for the exciting conclusion next month when The Heir comes to town.
Happy reading,
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 Harlequin series.
Books by Joanne Rock
Harlequin Desire
Dynasties: Mesa Falls
The Rebel
The Rival
Rule Breaker
Heartbreaker
The Rancher
Texas Cattleman’s Club: Inheritance
Her Texas Renegade
Visit her Author Profile page at Harlequin.com, or joannerock.com, for more titles.
You can also find Joanne Rock on Facebook, along with other Harlequin Desire authors, at Facebook.com/harlequindesireauthors!
Contents
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Excerpt from No Holding Back by Lori Foster
Excerpt from Running Away with the Bride by Sophia Singh Sasson
One
Chiara Campagna slipped into her host’s office and silently closed the heavy oak door, leaving the raucous party behind. Breathing in the scents of good bourbon and leather, she held herself very still in the darkened room while she listened for noise outside in the hallway to indicate if anyone had followed her.
When no sounds came through besides the pop song people danced to in the living room of Miles Rivera’s spacious Montana vacation home, Chiara released a pent-up breath and debated whether or not to switch on a lamp. On the one hand, a light showing under the door might signal to someone passing by that the room was occupied when it shouldn’t be. On the other, if someone found her by herself snooping around in the dark, she’d be raising significant suspicions that wouldn’t be easy to talk her way around.
As a prominent Los Angeles-based social media influencer, Chiara had a legitimate reason to be at the party given by the Mesa Falls Ranch owners to publicize their environmental good works. But she had no legitimate reason to be here—in Miles Rivera’s private office—snooping for secrets about his past.
She twisted the knob on the wall by the door, and recessed lighting cast a warm glow over the heavy, masculine furnishings. Dialing back the wattage with the dimmer, she left it just bright enough to see her way around the gray leather sofa and glass-topped coffee table to the midcentury modern desk. Her silver metallic dress, a gorgeous gown with an asymmetrical hem and thigh-high slit to show off her legs, moved around her with a soft rustle as she headed toward the sideboard with its decanter full of amber-colored liquid. She set aside her tiny silver handbag, then poured two fingers’ worth into one of the glasses beside the decanter. If anyone discovered her, the drink would help explain why she’d lingered where she most definitely did not belong.
“What secrets are you hiding, Miles?” she asked a framed photo of her host, a flattering image of an already handsome man. In the picture, he stood in front of the guest lodge with the five other owners of Mesa Falls Ranch. It was one of the few photos she’d seen of all six of them together.
Each successful in his own right, the owners were former classmates from a West Coast boarding school close to the all-girls’ academy Chiara had attended. At least until her junior year, when her father lost his fortune and she’d been booted into public school. It would have been no big deal, really, if not for the fact that the public school had no art program. Her dreams of attending a prestigious art university to foster her skills with collage and acrylic paint faltered and died. Sure, she’d parlayed her limited resources into fame and fortune as a beauty influencer thanks to social media savvy and—in part—to her artistic sensibilities. But being an Instagram star wasn’t the same as being an artist.
Not that it mattered now, she reminded herself, lingering on the photograph of Miles’s too-handsome face. He stood flanked by casino resort owner Desmond Pierce and
game developer Alec Jacobsen. Miles’s golden, surfer looks were a contrast to Desmond’s European sophistication and Alec’s stubbled, devil-may-care style. All six men were wealthy and successful in their own right. Mesa Falls was the only business concern they shared.
A project that had something to do with the ties forged back in their boarding school days. A project that should have included Zach Eldridge, the seventh member of the group, who’d died under mysterious circumstances. The boy she’d secretly loved.
A cheer from the party in the living room reminded Chiara she needed to get a move on if she wanted to accomplish her mission. Steeling herself with a sip of the aged bourbon, she turned away from the built-in shelves toward the desk, then tapped the power button on the desktop computer. Any twinge of guilt she felt over invading Miles’s privacy was mitigated by her certainty the Mesa Falls Ranch owners knew more than they were telling about Zach’s death fourteen years ago. She hadn’t been sure of it until last Christmas, when a celebrity guest of the ranch had revealed a former mentor to the ranch owners had anonymously authored a book that brought the men of Mesa Falls into the public spotlight.
And rekindled Chiara’s need to learn the truth about what had happened to Zach while they were all at school together.
When the desktop computer prompted her to type in a passcode, Chiara crossed her fingers, then keyed in the same four numbers she’d seen Miles Rivera code into his phone screen earlier in the evening while ostensibly reaching past him for a glass of champagne. The generic photo of a mountain view on the screen faded into the more businesslike background of Miles’s desktop with its neatly organized ranch files.
“Bingo.” She quietly celebrated his lack of high tech cyber security on his personal device since she’d just exhausted the extent of her code-cracking abilities.
“Z-A-C-H.” She spoke the letters aloud as she typed them into the search function.
A page full of results filled the screen. Her gaze roved over them. Speed-reading file names, she realized most of the files were spreadsheets; they seemed to be earnings reports. None used Zach’s name in the title, indicating the references to him were within the files themselves.
Her finger hovered over a promising entry when the doorknob turned on the office door. Scared of getting caught, she jammed the power button off on the computer.
Just in time to look up and see Miles Rivera standing framed in the doorway.
Dressed in a custom-cut tuxedo that suited his lean runner’s build perfectly, he held his phone in one hand before silently tucking it back in his jacket pocket. In the low light, his hair looked more brown than dark blond, the groomed bristles around his jaw and upper lip decidedly sexy. He might be a rancher, normally overseeing Rivera Ranch, a huge spread in central California, yet he was always well-dressed anytime the Mesa Falls owners were in the news cycle for their efforts to bring awareness to sustainable ranching practices. His suits were always tailored and masculine at the same time. Her blog followers would approve. She certainly approved of his blatant sexiness and comfort in his own skin, even though she was scared he was about to have her tossed out of his vacation home on the Mesa Falls property for snooping.
His blue eyes zeroed in on her with laser focus. Missing nothing.
Guilty heart racing, Chiara reached for her bourbon and lifted it to her lips slowly, hoping her host couldn’t spot the way her hand shook from his position across the room.
“You caught me red-handed.” She sipped too much of the drink, the strong spirit burning her throat the whole way down while she struggled to maintain her composure.
“At what, exactly?” Miles quirked an eyebrow, his expression impossible to read.
Had he seen her shut off the computer? She only had an instant to decide how to play this.
“Helping myself to your private reserves.” She lifted the cut-crystal tumbler, as if to admire the amber contents in the light. “I only slipped in here to escape the noise for a few minutes, but when I saw the decanter, I hoped you wouldn’t mind if I helped myself.”
She waited for him to call her out for the lie. To accuse her of spying on him. Her heartbeat sounded so loud in her ears she thought for sure he must hear it, too.
He inclined his head briefly before shutting the door behind him, then striding closer. “You’re my guest. You’re welcome to whatever you like, Ms. Campagna.”
She sensed an undercurrent in the words. Something off in the slight emphasis on her name. Because he knew she was lying? Because he remembered a time when that hadn’t been her name? Or maybe due to the simple fact that he didn’t seem to like her. She had enough of an empath’s sensibilities to recognize when someone looked down on her career. She suspected Miles Rivera was the kind of man to pigeonhole her as frivolous because she posted beauty content online.
As if making women feel good about themselves was a waste of time.
“You’re not a fan of mine,” she observed lightly, sidling from behind his desk to pace the length of the room, pretending to be interested in the titles of books on the built-in shelves lining the back wall. “Is it because of my profession? Or does it have more to do with me invading your private domain and stealing some bourbon? It’s excellent, by the way.”
“It’s a limited edition.” He unbuttoned his jacket as he reached the wet bar, then picked up the decanter to pour a second glass, his diamond cuff-link winking in the overhead lights as he poured. “Twenty-five years old. Single barrel. But I meant what I said. You’re welcome to my hospitality. Including my bourbon.”
Pivoting on his heel, he took two steps in her direction, then paused in front of his desk to lean against it. For a moment, she panicked that he would be able to feel that the computer was still warm. Or that the internal fan of the machine still spun after she’d shut it off.
But he merely sipped his drink while he observed her. He watched her so intently that she almost wondered if he recognized her from a long-ago past. In the few times they’d met socially, Miles had never made the connection between Chiara Campagna, social media star, and Kara Marsh, the teenager who’d been in love with Miles’s roommate at school, Zach Eldridge. The old sense of loss flared inside her, spurring her to turn the conversation in a safer direction.
“I noticed you neatly sidestepped the matter of my profession.” She set her tumbler on a granite-topped cabinet beside a heavy wire sculpture of a horse with a golden-yellow eye.
He paused, taking his time to answer. The sounds of the party filtered through to the dim home office. One dance tune blended seamlessly into another thanks to the famous DJ of the moment, and voices were raised to be heard over the music. When Miles met her gaze again, there was something calculating in his expression.
“Maybe I envy you a job that allows you to travel the globe and spend your nights at one party after another.” He lifted his glass in a mock salute. “Clearly, you’re doing something right.”
Irritation flared.
“You wouldn’t be the first person to assume I lead a charmed life of leisure, full of yachts and champagne, because of what I choose to show the world on social media.” She bristled at his easy dismissal of all the hard work it had taken to carve herself a place in a crowded market.
“And yet, here you are.” He gestured expansively, as if to indicate his second home on the exclusive Mesa Falls property. “Spending another evening with Hollywood celebrities, world-class athletes and a few heavyweights from the music industry. Life can’t be all bad, can it?”
In her agitation, she took another drink of the bourbon, though she still hadn’t learned her lesson to sip carefully. The fire down her throat should have warned her that she was letting this arrogant man get under her skin.
Considering her earlier fears about being caught spying, maybe she should have just laughed off his assumption that she had a shallow lifestyle and excused herself from the room. But
resentment burned fast and hot.
“And yet, you’re at the same party as me.” She took a step closer to him before realizing it. Before acknowledging her own desire to confront him. To somehow douse the smug look in his blue eyes. “Don’t you consider attendance part of your job, not just something you do for fun?”
“I’m the host representing Mesa Falls.” His broad shoulders straightened at her approach, though he didn’t move from his position leaning his hip against the desk. “Of course it’s a work obligation. If I didn’t have to take a turn being the face of Mesa Falls tonight, I would be back at my own place, Rivera Ranch.”
His voice had a raspy quality to it that teased along her nerve endings in a way that wasn’t at all unpleasant. He was nothing like the men who normally populated her world—men who understood the beauty and entertainment industries. There was something earthy and real about Miles Rivera underneath the tailored garments, something that compelled her to get closer to all those masculine, rough edges.
“And I’m representing my brand as well. It’s no less a work obligation for me.”
“Right.” He shook his head, an amused smile playing at his lips, his blue eyes darkening a few shades. “More power to you for creating a brand that revolves around long-wearing lipstick and international fashion shows.”
This view of her work seemed so unnecessarily dismissive that she had to wonder if he took potshots as a way to pay her back for invading his office. She couldn’t imagine how he could rationalize his behavior any other way, but she forced herself to keep her cool in spite of his obvious desire to get a rise from her.
“I’m surprised a man of your business acumen would hold views so narrow-minded and superficial.” She shrugged with deliberate carelessness, though she couldn’t stop herself from glaring daggers at him. Or taking another step closer to hammer home her point. “Especially since I’m sure you recognize that work like mine requires me to be a one-woman content creator, marketing manager, finance director and admin. Not to mention committing endless hours to build a brand you write off as fluff.”