by Joanne Rock
For a moment, he saw a different side of her. With no makeup and no fans surrounding her, no couture gown or A-list celebrities clamoring for a photo with her, Chiara looked like a woman who might enjoy the same kind of quiet life he did.
But he knew that was only an illusion. She circulated in a glamorous world of nightlife and parties, far from the ranch where he spent his time.
“I’m glad we got out of the house.” She leaned against the rough bark of a Jeffrey pine as they reached an overlook of the lake, where the water reflected the dull gray of the snow clouds. “While having a snow day was fun yesterday, it only delayed the stress fallout from visiting the police station and having it posted online. I feel like I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop.”
Miles leaned back against the trunk near her, still holding her hand. The reminder of those things hanging over them still made him uneasy, and he wished he could distract her. How she felt mattered to him more than it should, considering the very lives they led. And how fast she’d be out of his life again.
He knew her time in Tahoe was bound to her search for answers about Zach, which was why Miles hadn’t found a way to tell her yet about the DNA test results he’d received from Desmond earlier that morning. All the Mesa Falls owners had been ruled out, as had Alonzo Salazar through DNA provided by his sons. Which meant there was a strong chance Zach was the father. But Miles hadn’t shared that yet, knowing damn well Chiara might leave once she knew. The possibility of her going weighed him down like lead, but he was also still worried about her safety after the anonymous threats. But he ignored his own feelings to try to reassure her.
“It’s been two days since the photos of us at the police station started appearing online.” He’d checked his phone before driving over to the casino for his clothes, wanting to make sure there’d been no backlash from her fans. “Maybe it won’t be a big deal.”
Below them on the snowy hill, a few kids dragged snow tubes partway up the incline to sled down to the water, even though the conditions seemed too powdery for a good run. A few vacation cabins dotted the coastline, and he guessed they were staying in one of them. Chiara’s gaze followed the kids, too, before she looked up at him.
“Maybe not.” She didn’t sound convinced. “And my social media accounts are still working.” She held up her phone with the other hand. “I successfully posted a photo of the snow-covered trees a moment ago.”
While he was glad to hear her accounts hadn’t been hacked, he was caught off guard by the idea of her posting nature photos to her profile that was full of fashion. And he was grateful to think about something besides the guilt gnawing at him for not confiding in her about the DNA news.
“Just trees?” He gave her a sideways glance, studying her lovely profile.
Her lips pursed in thought. “I’ve been posting more artistic images.” She shifted against the tree trunk so she faced him, her breath huffing between them in a drift of white in the cold air. “Thinking more about Zach this week has made me question how I could have gotten so far afield from the mixed media art that I used to love making.”
Regret rose as he remembered how he’d dismissed her work when they’d first met. “I hope it didn’t have anything to do with what I said that night about your job. I had no right—”
She shook her head, laying a hand on his arm. “Absolutely not. I know why I launched my brand and created the blog since I couldn’t afford art school. But there’s nothing stopping me from doing something different now. From reimagining my future.”
While the kids on the hill below them laughed and shouted over their next sled run, Miles shifted toward Chiara, the tree bark scraping his sheepskin jacket as he wondered if she could reimagine a future with him in it. Did he want that? Gazing into her green eyes, he still wrestled with how much they could trust each other. He felt her wariness about his friends. And for his part, he knew she was only here now because of her loyalty to Zach.
So he kept his response carefully focused on her even when he was tempted as hell to ask for more.
“No doubt, you could do anything you wanted now.” He brushed a snowflake from her cheek, the feel of her reminding him of all the best highlights from their past two nights together.
Funny that despite seeing stars many times thanks to her, the moments he remembered best were how she’d felt wrapped around him as he fell asleep the last two nights, resulting in the best slumber he’d had in a long time. He’d been totally relaxed, like she was supposed to be right there with him.
She closed her eyes for a moment as he touched her. He’d like to think she relished the feel of him as much he did her. Her long lashes fluttered against her cheeks for a moment before she raised her gaze to meet his again.
“For a long time, I worried that any artistic talent I once had was only because of the inspiration from the year I knew Zach,” she confided quietly. “Like I was somehow a fraud without him.”
The statement stunned him, coming from someone so obviously talented. “You built your success because of your artistic eye. And hell yes, I know that because I read up on you after we met.”
He wasn’t about to hide that from her if he could leverage what he’d learned to reassure her. He lifted her chin so she could see his sincerity.
“Thank you.” Her gloved fingers wrapped around his wrist where he touched her, the leather creaking softly with the cold. “Oddly, I’ve been more reassured as I’ve reconnected with my old sketchbooks. There is a lot more original work in there than I remembered. I think I let Zach’s influence magnify in my mind over the years because of the huge hole he left in my life in other ways. I spent at least a year just redrawing old works of his from memory, trying to keep him in my heart.”
Tenderness for her loss swamped him. He recognized it. He’d lived it. “I know what you mean. All of us tried to fill the void he left in different ways. Weston took up search and rescue work. Gage disappeared into numbers and investing.”
He mused over the way his friends had grown an unbreakable bond, while at the same time venturing decidedly away from the experience they’d shared. Zach’s death had brought them together and kept them all isolated at the same time.
“What about you?” Chiara asked as his hand fell from her chin. “What did you do afterward?”
He couldn’t help a bitter smile. “I became the model son. I threw myself into ranching work to help my father and prepare for taking over Rivera Ranch.”
“That sounds like a good thing, right?” She tipped her head sideways as if not sure what she was hearing. “Very practical.”
“Maybe it was. But it only increased the divide between my brother and me.” He hated that time in his life for so many reasons. The fact that it had alienated him from the person who knew him best had been a pain that lasted long after. “I could do no wrong in my parents’ eyes after that, and it was the beginning of the end for my relationship with Wes.”
Her brows knit in confusion as the snow started falling faster. A flake clung briefly to her eyelash before melting.
“Why would your brother resent your efforts to help your family?” she asked with a clarity he could never muster for the situation.
The fact that she saw his life—him—so clearly had him struggling to maintain his distance. The intimacy of the last two days was threatening to pull him under. Needing a breather, he stirred from where he stood.
“He didn’t.” Miles shrugged as he straightened, gesturing toward the path back to her villa. “But our parents treated us so differently it got uncomfortable for Wes to even come home for holidays. I hated how they treated him, too, but since I spent every second away from school working on Rivera Ranch, I let that take over my life.”
For a few minutes, they shuffled back along the paths they’d made through the deep snow on their way out. He, for one, was grateful for the reprieve from a painful topic.
But then again, if there was a chance he would be spending more time with Chiara in the future, he owed her an explanation of his family dynamics.
He held his hand out for her to help her over an icy log in the path.
“It seems like the blame rests on your parents’ shoulders. Not yours or Weston’s,” she observed, jumping down from the log to land beside him with a soft thud of her heavy boots.
The sounds from the sledders retreated as they continued through the woods.
“Maybe so. But then, on one of Wes’s rare trips home, we ended up dating the same woman without knowing. That didn’t help things.” It had been a misguided idea to date Brianna in the first place, but Miles had been on the ranch and isolated for too long. So even though Brianna was a rebel and a risk taker, he’d told himself his life needed more adventure.
He’d gotten far more than he’d bargained for when he’d seen Wes in a lip lock with her at a local bar a few weeks later. That betrayal had burned deep.
“That sounds like her fault. Because you may not have known, but she must have.” She scowled as she spoke.
Miles couldn’t help a laugh. “I appreciate your defense of me. Thank you.”
He could see Chiara’s villa ahead through the trees and the snow, and his steps slowed. He wasn’t ready to return to the real world yet. Didn’t want to know what had happened with Nicole Cruz, or with Chiara’s anonymous hacker. He wanted more time with her before he lost her to her work and her world where he didn’t belong.
Chiara slowed, too, coming to a halt beside him. They still held hands. And for some reason stepping out of the trees felt like it was bringing them that much closer to the end of their time together.
“I like you, Miles,” she admitted, dropping her forehead to rest on his shoulder as if she didn’t want to return to the real world yet, either. “In case you haven’t guessed.”
Her simple words plucked at something inside him. Made him want to take a chance again for the first time in a long time. Or confide in her, at the very least. But long-ingrained habit kept him silent about the deeper things he was feeling. Instead, he focused on the way they connected best.
“I like you a whole lot, too,” he growled, winding an arm around her waist to press her more tightly to him. “I’ll remind you how much if you take me home with you.”
She lifted her eyes to his, and for the briefest of seconds, he thought he saw her hesitate. But then her lids fell shut and she grazed her lips over his, meeting his kiss with a sexy sigh and more than a little heat.
* * *
Chiara was half dazed by the time Miles broke the kiss. Heat rose inside her despite the snow, her body responding to everything about him. His scent. His touch. His wicked, wonderful tongue.
Heartbeat skipping, she gladly followed him as he led her back toward the huge stone-and-wood structure, her thoughts racing ahead to where they’d take the next kiss. Her bed? The sauna? In front of the massive fireplace? Sensual thoughts helped keep her worries at bay after the way Miles seemed to pull back from her earlier. Or had that been her imagination?
Sometimes she sensed that he avoided real conversation in favor of touching and kissing. But when his every touch and kiss set her aflame, could she really argue? She’d let her guard down around him in a big way, showing him a side of herself that felt new. Vulnerable. Raw.
Breathless with anticipation, she tripped into the side door behind him, peeling off her snowy boots on the mat. Her hat and gloves followed. He shook off his coat and boots before stripping off her jacket and hanging it on an antique rack for her. He didn’t wait to fold her in his arms and kiss her again. He gripped her hips, steadying her as he sealed their bodies together. Heat scrambled her thoughts again, her fingers tunneling impatiently under his cashmere sweater where she warmed them against his back before walking them around to his front, tucking them in the waistband of his jeans.
The ragged sound in his throat expressed the same need she felt, and he pulled away long enough to grip her by the hand and guide her across the polished planked floor toward the stairs.
Her feet were on the first wide step of the formal divided staircase when a knock sounded on the back door.
Miles stopped. His blue gaze swung around to look at her.
Her belly tightened.
“Maybe it’s just Jules checking to see how we’re faring after the storm.” At least, she hoped that was all it was.
Still, her feet didn’t move until the knock sounded again. More urgently.
“We’d better check,” Miles muttered, frustration punctuating every word. He kept holding her hand as he walked with her through the kitchen.
She sensed the tension in him—something about the way he held himself. Or maybe the way he looked like he was grinding his teeth. But she guessed that was the same sexual frustration she was feeling right now.
Still, her nerves wound tight as she padded through the room in her socks. Through a side window, she could see Jules and Stefan—together—on the back step. Vaguely, she felt Miles give her hand a reassuring squeeze before she pulled open the door.
“What’s up?” she started to ask, only to have Jules thrust her phone under Chiara’s nose as she stepped into the kitchen, Stefan right behind her.
Miles closed the door.
“Your page is down.” Jules’s face was white, her expression grim as she waggled the phone in front of Chiara with more emphasis. “We’ve been hacked.”
She could have sworn the floor dropped out from under her feet. Miles’s arm wrapped around her. Steadying her.
Chiara stared at Jules’s device, afraid to look. Closing her eyes for a moment, she took a deep breath before she accepted the phone. Then, sinking onto the closest counter stool, she tapped the screen back to life.
Miles peered over her shoulder, his warmth not giving her the usual comfort as a shiver racked her. His hand rubbed over her back while her eyes focused on what she was seeing.
Oddly, the image at the top of her profile page—her home screen—was of Miles. Only he wasn’t alone. It was a shot of him with his face pressed cheek to cheek with a gorgeous woman—a brown-eyed beauty with dark curling hair and a mischievous smile. A banner inserted across the image read, “Kara Marsh, you’ll always be second best.”
Miles might have said something in her ear, but she couldn’t focus on his words. If she’d thought the floor had shifted out from under her feet before, now her stomach joined the free fall. As images went, it wasn’t particularly damaging to her career.
Simply to her heart.
Because the look on Miles’s face in that photo was one she’d never seen before. Pressed against that ethereally gorgeous creature, Miles appeared happier than he’d ever been with Chiara. In this image, his blue eyes were unguarded. Joyous. In love.
And that hurt more than anything. In the woods this morning, when she’d tentatively tested out his feelings with a confession that she liked him—not that it was a huge overture, but still, she’d tried—he’d responded with sizzle. Not emotions.
Jules crouched down into her line of vision, making Chiara realize she’d been silent too long. With an effort, she tried to recover herself, knowing full well her hurt must have been etched all over her face in those first moments when she’d seen the picture.
“It could be worse,” she managed to say, sliding the phone across the granite countertop to Jules, avoiding pieces from a jigsaw puzzle she’d worked on for a little while with Miles during the snowstorm. “That’s hardly a damning shot.”
“I agree,” Jules said softly, her tone a careful blend of professionalism and caution. “But the banner—coupled with the fact that you were recently photographed with Miles—creates the impression that either Miles or his—” she hesitated, shooting a quick glance at Miles “—um, former girlfriend were the ones to hijack your social media properties. This sa
me image is on your personal blog, too. I’m worried your fans will be defensive of you—”
“I’m sure we’ll get it cleared up soon.” She wasn’t sure of any such thing as she picked up one of the puzzle pieces and traced the tabs and slots. But the need to confront Miles privately was too strong for her to think about her career. Or whatever else Jules was saying. “Could you give us a minute, Jules? And I’ll come over to help you figure out our next steps in a little while?”
Her heartbeat pounded too loudly for her to even be sure what Jules said on her way out. But her friend took Stefan by the arm—even though her bodyguard looked doubtfully from Miles to Chiara and back again—and tugged him out the villa’s back door.
Leaving her and Miles alone.
He put his hands on her shoulders, gently swiveling her on the counter stool so that she faced him.
“Are you all right?” He lowered himself into the seat next to her, perching on the edge of the leather cushion. “Would you like me to get you something to drink? You don’t look well.”
“I’m fine.” That wasn’t true, but a drink wouldn’t help the tumultuous feelings inside her. The hurt deeper than she had a right to feel over a man she’d vowed could only be a fling.
“You don’t look fine.” His blue eyes were full of concern. Though, she reminded herself, not love. “You can’t think for a second I had anything to do with posting that.”
“Of course not.” That hadn’t even occurred to her. She hadn’t roused the energy to think about who was behind the post because she was too busy having her heart stepped on. Too consumed with feelings she’d assured herself she wasn’t going to develop for this man. But judging by the jealousy and hurt gnawing away at her insides, she couldn’t deny she’d been harboring plenty of emotions for this man.