by Joanne Rock
The dude was someone familiar with Elena’s blog, and he’d insisted she should be brought in on the decor before they went any further in planning. Gage had appreciated the decorator pushing back on his plans since he had raised a valid point. Elena’s future as a designer seemed more and more probable. She’d surely want to weigh in on fabrics and colors for the “home within a home” Gage hoped to create for her. Surely if she had her own retreat space at his house on the ranch in Mesa Falls, and at his place in Silicon Valley, she would be enticed to visit both spots with him as often as possible. She would see that she was the only woman he wanted in his life.
Now that he’d seen how rootless she’d been as a kid, how much her father had dragged her from town to town hiding from the cops and battling his own demons, Gage hoped she’d understand the significance of what he was trying to offer her. A place she could always call home.
Stepping out of the studio, where new windows were being installed to increase the natural light, Gage thanked the head contractor and walked around the exterior of the house to make sure the work crew were being respectful of the grass and gardens. He needed to dress for the evening’s event, the party where the owners would share the news about Alonzo Salazar’s humanitarian efforts as a way to end the public interest in his story. The PR staff had chosen Miles Rivera’s residence as the site for the get-together, hoping to maintain the security of the celebrity guests more easily in a private venue.
Satisfied with the work crew’s use of a side lawn to park their trucks, Gage rounded the front of the house and pulled out his phone to let Elena know he would be ready in half an hour for the party.
Only to have a woman’s familiar voice stop him cold.
“Gage?”
He stopped. Confounded.
Because there, in his front entryway, stood his smiling mother and expressionless father. A designer suitcase rested between them. A liveried chauffeur wheeled a second piece of matching luggage from the back of a luxury SUV idling quietly in the driveway.
His parents looked older than when he’d seen them last. Not just because they were a little grayer. A network of worry lines crawled across each of their faces. The reality of the changes in them brought home to Gage how many years it had been since he’d seen them in person. Guilt pinched at his chest.
“Mom?” Gage stared at her in shock, wondering what on earth they were doing in the States and on his doorstep, tonight of all nights. “What’s going on?”
“We’re here for the party, Gage,” she announced, her pink traveling suit and lightweight trench coat neatly pressed as if she’d journeyed from across town rather than across the globe. She appeared tentative for a moment, perhaps unsure of her welcome. Then she stepped forward to hold out her arms to him.
Regret burned that he’d made his mother doubt his affection for her. No matter what had transpired between him and his father, he didn’t blame her for it. Gage embraced her, pressing a kiss to her cheek as the scent of lemon verbena drifted from her, punching him in the gut with nostalgia despite his strained relationship with his parents.
“I don’t understand why you’d come all this way to attend tonight’s event.” He addressed his father as he stepped back, knowing his parents’ presence could send Elena running if he didn’t handle the situation carefully. “The event is a publicity function for Mesa Falls Ranch.”
A venture they’d never supported since it involved his friends from school, friends who’d been a source of aggravation for Nigel Striker more than once.
His father inclined his head a fraction. His gray suit lapel was decorated with a pin of the New Zealand flag. “Yes. A publicity function carefully calibrated to suggest a revelation about the ranch’s tie to Alonzo Salazar.” He spoke the name with obvious distaste. “A man I would have hoped you’d have erased all connection to long before now.”
Frustration simmered, and Gage felt the painful tension in his temples. Behind them, his housekeeper was already opening the door to usher in Gage’s mother. The driver brought the bags inside.
Foreboding loomed like a thundercloud, smothering him with the sense of inevitability. Tonight was going to be a disaster if he didn’t get a handle on this unexpected visit fast. The last thing he needed was his father upsetting Elena after how hard Gage had worked this week to make tonight special.
“That’s my business, not yours,” Gage reminded his father, knowing he’d need to hang on to his patience with both hands if he wanted the evening with Elena to unfold the way he’d hoped. He’d invested too much time in his plans to have his father spoil them now. “And tonight’s party is a private affair, but I’d be happy to meet with you tomorrow morning once you’ve both had a chance to recover from your trip.”
New Zealand was nineteen hours ahead of mountain time in the United States. They had to be exhausted. He gestured to his housekeeper to prepare a guest room for them.
“We spent last night in Los Angeles,” his mother assured him, sliding a coaxing hand around Gage’s arm as she lowered her head to speak softly to him. “We’ve had plenty of time to acclimate. We’re only in town for a couple of days, Gage. Attending the party will give us an opportunity to catch up.”
Had his father urged her to guilt Gage into letting them attend? Suspicion mounted along with his irritation. He didn’t have time for a big confrontation right now when the driver was due to deliver him and Elena to Miles’s house in—he checked his watch—fifteen minutes.
What if Elena was ready early? She could make an appearance in the foyer at any moment. He needed to get his parents out of there.
“Nevertheless—” Gage freed himself from his mother’s coercive hold “—we’ll have to speak tomorrow. My housekeeper, Mrs. Merchant, will show you to your rooms.”
Gage was unconcerned about how his father interpreted his limited hospitality, but his conscience niggled at leaving his mom standing in the hallway with her bags for the staff to oversee. In the end, he had no choice. He headed down the hall toward the back of the house, where he still had just enough time to change.
He’d almost reached the door to his suite when his father’s cold voice echoed along the corridor, raking along Gage’s last nerve.
“Elena Rollins. What in bloody hell are you doing here?”
* * *
The moment seemed surreal enough that Elena briefly hoped she was just having a nightmare.
When she’d arrived in the foyer to ask Gage’s housekeeper to snap a few photos for her blog before the party, Elena came face-to-face with the harsh, disapproving man who still occasionally haunted her dreams. Nigel Striker, the man who’d attempted to buy her off and then failed to tell his son for years that she hadn’t taken the bribe, was now blocking her path to the living room. He loomed almost as large as Gage, although his shoulders were more stooped now and his gray hair had thinned.
Nigel glared at Elena, while his wife—almost a decade younger than him, but looking equally world-weary at the moment—hurried closer to them.
“Nigel, please. We’re Gage’s guests,” Rosalie Striker murmured, her eyes lingering on Elena briefly before returning to her intractable mate. “Let them get to their party and you can speak to Gage tomorrow.”
Something about the woman’s intervention freed Elena from the paralysis that seeing Nigel had induced. She wouldn’t be intimidated by this man, even if he’d been needlessly cruel to her six years ago. Nigel Striker had simply exploited the weakness that had always existed in her relationship with Gage—the lack of deeper understanding and core trust.
“What am I doing here?” she parroted, minus the expletive. “I’m doing a favor for your son, who asked me to attend an event with him this evening.”
Anger and an old resentment balled in her stomach. And as Gage entered the foyer from the opposite corridor, seeing him did little to ease those feelings, even if his expression register
ed concern for her.
Pivoting on her heel, she retreated down the hallway, charging back the way she’d come. She heard quiet, furious voices behind her, but she wasn’t even mildly compelled to glance backward.
Gage had asked her to share a story about Alonzo that would feed some of the public fascination with him, and she had. More media outlets would pick it up tonight after the announcement at Miles Rivera’s party. Gage had wanted her to attend the event with him, but as far as she was concerned, that part of the deal was off the table now that his parents were under his roof.
“Elena. Wait,” Gage called to her as she reached the door to her suite.
The door to the same room where they’d hashed through the logistics of her visit just two weeks ago.
She paused with one hand on the knob, wishing she could scavenge a fraction of all that defensiveness she’d felt around him then. She’d come to this house ready to do battle with him, to take the story she wanted and—yes—maybe have a little revenge for how he’d treated her six years ago.
Now that she’d seen another side of him, a facet of his kindness and a hint of the difficult journey he’d taken to be a different man from his father, Elena didn’t have the heart to do battle with him the same way.
“I’m leaving,” she told him quietly, forcing herself to meet his dark eyes. “I’ve filed the story you asked me to with The Hollywood Metro. I’ll forward the check to your publicity director so she can give the proceeds to one of Alonzo’s preferred charities. But I’m done here.”
“No.” He opened the door for her, apparently waiting for her to step inside. “Please, Elena. You can’t go without giving me a chance to explain.”
His gaze roamed over her, and she felt self-conscious in the turquoise-and-green gown that had made her feel so beautiful just half an hour earlier when she’d dressed for the evening with care. The fluttery fabric had matched her light, airy hopefulness. Now, the frothy material reminded her how foolish she’d been to hope for more from a man who still wanted—deserved—closeness with his family.
“You don’t need to explain anything, Gage.” She cut him short, fearing if they talked much longer she would humiliate herself by bursting into tears. She didn’t move to enter the room. She felt so fragile at the moment she feared she might break if she took a single misstep. “Your parents are in town to see you, not me. And I’m not going to add fuel to the fire by remaining here when you and your dad already have a strained relationship.”
“I’m not interested in repairing a relationship with my father after the way he’s treated you.” His words were softly spoken, but the fury behind them was still apparent. He stood just inches from her, still waiting for her to enter the office outside the bedroom he’d given her for her stay.
A visit that had come to an end, as much as she wished otherwise. She couldn’t afford to ignore how this would inevitably turn out. Heartbreak delayed would only be heartbreak doubled.
“And what about your mother? Your sisters?” she prodded, trying to help him see the facts he’d been ignoring. “How happy are you going to be alienating your whole family for my sake? They’re your flesh and blood, Gage. I’m just the woman sharing your bed temporarily.”
“I want you in my life for more than that,” he shot back, emotion flaring in his eyes.
Anger? Passion? She couldn’t be sure. Her own emotions were so mixed up where he was concerned, she didn’t have the clear-eyed judgment necessary to try to interpret his. She felt weary.
“For how long?” she asked, making one last effort to help him see that they were wrong for each other. To think otherwise had been delusional. “Right now, we have great chemistry. But will that still be there three years from now after you’ve cut yourself off from your family in order to be with me? Or will you wish you’d found someone that your family could embrace instead of someone they’re determined to hate?”
“I don’t need their approval, Elena.” His tone was resolute. Final. “What my father wants doesn’t mean a damned thing to me.”
She’d like to think things could be simpler, but she couldn’t help but remember her own father. No matter his shortcomings, she still wished she could have found a way to have him in her life. To fix the rifts between them so she still had someone she could call family.
“I understand that, Gage,” she said sadly. “And what you want doesn’t mean a damned thing to him, either. Which makes you far more alike than you realize.”
That, at least, seemed to sink home. Some of the determined fire faded from his eyes.
“You really mean that?” he asked, his jaw jutting forward. “You can just walk away thinking I’m as unbending as my old man and I’ll only get tired of you anyway?”
It would be different if he loved her. But he’d never said anything to give her that impression, and she refused to put her heart on the line for him a second time. Whatever feelings she’d developed for him again would remain her secret.
Her private heartbreak.
Gage reached for her, but she backed up a step, afraid that the attraction would make her lose sight of reason. Again.
“Why would I believe otherwise?” She stepped into the office outside her bedroom, ready to change out of her party clothes and forget this night ever happened. “I’m going to pack now, Gage. I’ll get a flight back home as soon as I can.”
His nod was jerky. Abrupt. And it was the only hint that he might be hurting, too.
“I need to put in an appearance at the party,” he said finally. “If you leave before I return, would you consider taking a look at the room renovation before you go?”
She couldn’t imagine why he would ask her such a thing. Why he would care about her opinion?
“I’d prefer not to run the risk of stumbling into your father.” She had no desire to cross swords with Nigel Striker. Especially when Gage could obtain design advice from dozens of other people. “Good night, Gage.”
Closing the door between them, Elena told herself it would be the last time she’d ever have to face that level of pain. And she prayed that was true, because one drop more and she would be destroyed. This was almost too much to bear. She’d encouraged him to maintain his ties with his family, but in doing so, she’d cost herself the closest relationship she’d ever had with someone. Because no matter that she’d married Tomas at a sad point in her life, Gage Striker had always held her heart.
Thirteen
Where the hell are you?
Gage read one text while five more rolled in, his phone blowing up with notifications from his friends as the evening wore on. He’d changed into his tux for Miles’s party, but hadn’t called for his car in case there was a chance he could figure out a way to keep Elena from leaving.
Anger at his father still clouded his head. How could he show up here—tonight—and ruin any chance he might have had with Elena? Again.
Now, Gage sat outside in the dark by the pool, staring up at his own house. The lights were still on in Elena’s rooms. They were still on in his parents’ suite on the other side of the house, too. The studio his contractors were working on remained dark. It had been foolish of him to ask her to look at it since the space hadn’t fully taken shape yet. Without him there to explain what he was doing, she would just think he was putting in a tasting room, like he’d told her several days ago.
Defeat weighed heavy in his chest as he settled deeper into the cushion of the wooden pool lounger.
She was right here in his house, a sexy, beautiful and giving woman he wanted to be with, but he couldn’t think of a damned thing to do to make her stay.
When his phone chimed again, he had the urge to chuck it into the pool to stop the buzzing. But seeing the notification from Miles—the host of tonight’s shindig and the most levelheaded of the bunch—made him read the message.
How well do you know Chiara Campagna? Found her
in my study, and I would swear she was rifling through my notes. Looking for something.
Seriously?
Gage wondered if Miles had been drinking, because it made zero sense that one of the most famous women in the world would want to find out secrets Miles Rivera was keeping. Of all the Mesa Falls partners, Miles would win the award for most apt to do the right thing.
Astrid and Jonah have known her forever. She’s cool.
Unconcerned, Gage shot back the text and pocketed his phone. By the time he looked up again, he saw his mother heading his way. No longer wearing her travel suit, she was dressed in a long knit skirt and sweater with a cardigan over the top. He stood out of habit, even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to her. His frustration might be with his father, but then again, she hadn’t done anything to help defuse the tension earlier.
“Mom, I’m not in the best frame of mind for a conversation. I’m going to have to confront Dad tomorrow, and I want to warn you, I feel certain it won’t go well.” He figured he might as well give her fair warning.
She settled onto the chaise beside him, her skirt billowing around her, the watery reflection of landscape lights illuminating her face. There was concern in her expression as she looped her arm through his.
“You mean about Elena Rollins refusing his bribe all those years ago?” she asked, picking lint from the arm of her sweater.
“He told you?” It shouldn’t surprise him that his mother was party to his dad’s deception. And yet it still stung.
“We were never sure what to make of it that you believed she’d taken the money when she hadn’t.” Rosalie Striker fluffed her dyed brown curls, her hairstyle still exactly the same as the one she’d worn in his youth. “We assumed she wanted you to think she took it. That she used the misunderstanding as a way out of the relationship.”
