The Rival

by Joanne Rock

  “That’s not fair.” Devon stalked closer, taking a breath as if he was about to expound on the point, but she held up a hand to forestall him.

  “I realize that,” she conceded, her pulse speeding up again when he closed the distance between them. “Your business has grown because of your talent and commitment. I’ve meandered around without a solid career direction. That’s on me.”

  A log in the fire slipped, spewing embers and hissing softly.

  “But you feel robbed of opportunities, while they’ve been handed to me?” He shook his head. “If my father had access to hidden wealth, he never spent it on his sons.”

  “Yet he was an investor in Salazar Media.” She’d looked it up and the amount was staggering. “It’s a matter of public record.”

  Devon’s lips flattened into a line for a moment as he studied her. She wanted to reach out and touch his shadowed jaw, even when she felt an unreasonable resentment.

  “True.” He nodded in a distracted way, his gaze sliding from hers to peer into the distance. “Though the amount was funded from his retirement account. I worried about him giving us that money because it meant he’d have nothing to live on while waiting for the company to start turning a profit.”

  Turning on his heel, Devon paced away from her, clearly caught up in his own thoughts. It seemed that he was speaking to himself more than her.

  “What is it? Did you remember something?”

  She knew he didn’t have to tell her. But maybe she’d catch him in an unguarded moment. Hadn’t he just been asking her to trust him to share with her?

  She followed him toward the sofa table that held a stone statue of a bucking bronc.

  “Dad traveled a lot.” Devon slid a sideways glance toward her. “Friends who knew about those trips used to joke that he must be a secret agent on the side.”

  “Trips where?” Anticipation curled through her that she might learn something.

  And yet, would discovering the truth about the father alienate her from the son forever? It shouldn’t matter to her. Except after what she’d shared with Devon at his cabin, she couldn’t deny that it would.

  “We didn’t know.” Devon faced her, the warmth of his body suddenly close to hers. “Since finding out about the novel, I thought maybe he was just seeking out quiet places to write.”

  “But now you’re wondering if he was financing a more extravagant lifestyle you didn’t know about?” A piece of her hoped that Devon truly wasn’t aware of that hidden income.

  “Not necessarily.” He withdrew his phone from his jacket pocket and tapped in a note. “It’s occurred to me that the investigator would surely be able to track some of those travel dates. Perhaps his destinations on those trips would provide more insights.”

  Regina chewed on that idea while he finished typing. No doubt he had a good point. She felt uneasy that she hadn’t spoken to the investigator herself yet. What if she held the missing pieces of the Alonzo Salazar puzzle?

  Nearby a wall clock chimed the hour.

  “Speaking of which, I’m scheduled to talk to her now.” She needed to get her own read on April Stephens and decide how much she could trust the investigator. “I don’t want to miss her again.”

  Devon deposited his cell into his jacket pocket. “If you’d like this room, I can give you privacy. I need to go over some particulars on the launch event with the ranch manager.”

  “Thank you.” She retrieved her water bottle from where she’d set it on a side table earlier. “That would work well. If anyone comes in, I can always take the call outside.”

  “Can I take you out tomorrow night?” he asked quietly, his green eyes darkening.

  An answering shiver ran up her spine as her body reminded her how much she’d like that.

  “Because you want to see me?” she asked, tempted, but needing to keep a level head around this man. “Or because you want to keep an eye on me?”

  “I could ask you the same question about why you spend time with me,” he reminded her, angling closer in a way that made her heart skip a beat.

  Or two.

  When his lips closed over hers, she didn’t hesitate to kiss him back. The kiss was slow, thorough and sensual. A deliberate reminder of what it was like between them. Her arms wrapped around his waist, fingers curling into his shirt as hunger returned with an aching insistence.

  As her breasts tightened, her nipples peaked against the fabric of her bra. She almost forgot everything else until he pulled away, his breathing ragged.

  “You decide what you want next, Regina.” His hands slid away from her, and it was all she could do to remain upright. “I want you, but only when you’re sure about this. About me.”

  She blinked fast, trying to think of a response, but he was already walking away. He closed the door to the den behind him, leaving her beside the hearth while the fire blazed.

  Regina bit her lip until it hurt and waited for her thoughts to reassemble themselves. For reason to return. She was turned on. Confused.

  And very, very alone.

  Eight

  An hour later, Regina sat in a deep leather barrel chair kitty-corner to April Stephens in the Mesa Falls Ranch den.

  The investigator had asked to meet in person once she’d discovered that Regina was at the main lodge, and within five minutes of the call, the two of them had taken seats next to one of the tall windows flanking the fireplace.

  April defied every expectation Regina had of a female PI. The willowy blonde’s long hair hung in full curls around the shoulders of a suit that looked right out of the pages of a fashion magazine. From her stilettos to her French manicure, April appeared more apt to step out of a limo on Park Avenue than sit in a stakeout. But maybe that was because her investigative specialty was financial forensics.

  Now, taking notes in longhand on a legal pad, April paused to peer up at Regina.

  “Did your mother ever speculate about who in her life might have betrayed her trust?” The woman had listened without interruption while Regina recounted growing up as Georgiana Cameron, daughter of the prominent film star, before getting iced out of her “father’s” life once the scandal broke involving Hollywood Newlyweds. She should have been numbed to telling by now, but sharing about the betrayal still left her raw and vulnerable, perhaps because she was still unsettled by her last conversation with Devon.

  A burst of applause erupted in a room nearby, then died down again. The entertainment areas of the lodge had remained busy throughout the evening, but no one else had entered the den except for a passing waiter who’d asked if they needed anything. Regina sipped her water and set it back on the small round table with a wagon wheel painted on it, which sat between their chairs. Her hand trembled enough to give away her fractured emotions, and she yanked it back fast.

  “She said the only people who knew about her affair with my birth father were her two best friends and their yoga instructor.” Regina hadn’t thought back to that in a long time, and she appreciated April coming at the story with fresh eyes. But would it help Regina in the long run, or only serve Devon? “Eventually, Mom decided it must have been my father who’d let it slip to someone, because she trusted all of those women implicitly.”

  “Have your mom’s friends ever been questioned?” April shifted in her chair, the red soles of her shoes flashing for a moment as she recrossed her slim legs. “By a professional investigator, that is?”

  “No.” Regina felt a surge of hope that maybe something could still be unearthed from one of them. “I’m the only member of my family who has ever paid anyone to look into the matter, and I didn’t have the budget for it that Devon Salazar does.”

  “Will it create discomfort for your family if I question your mother’s friends now?” April asked, pen hovering in midair over her paper while she waited for an answer.

  “Not at all.” Sh
e withdrew her phone and started typing in names. “I’ll send you their contact information, but I should warn you that I’ve spoken to all of them before.” Although, looking back on those conversations, she remembered how emotional she’d been at the time. It had been shortly after her high school graduation, when the realization had settled in that her life would never, ever, be the same again. “Come to think of it, they were probably all hesitant to share anything with me based on how personally involved I was. Am.”

  April remained quiet for a moment while Regina looked up phone numbers and emails, drawing comfort in the task, feeling proactive for once, rather than just reactive. Once Regina sent April the text with all the info, the investigator spoke again.

  “I’m going to get to the bottom of it,” she said, blue eyes unwavering, voice certain. “We’ll have answers soon.”

  In that moment, Regina saw beyond the pretty, carefully cultivated exterior to the fierceness beneath.

  And she believed her.

  “I look forward to that.”

  They spoke for another quarter of an hour, going over details of Regina’s past before wrapping up the interview. She assured April she’d never met Alonzo Salazar or even heard of him before her own PI finally turned up the name earlier in the year. When the woman seemed satisfied she had enough answers, the two of them parted ways. April strode out of the den on her elegant high heels while Regina stood on shaky legs to return to the bunkhouse for the night. She wanted to believe it was just weariness from snowshoeing, but it more likely had to do with dredging up the past. She didn’t know if she could trust her feelings for Devon. Or his for her.

  Strangely, April Stephens had seemed like an ally even though she worked for Devon. That was only an illusion, though, and Regina would be foolish to think otherwise. The investigator would have allegiance to the man who’d hired her—end of story. Which meant Regina needed to stay close to that man if she wanted to know what April turned up.

  That had been her plan all along and, pride be damned, she was going to stick to it because she was finally getting close to having answers about Alonzo Salazar and his book.

  Regina told herself that was why she was seeing Devon again tomorrow night. It didn’t have anything to do with being wildly attracted to him.

  * * *

  If Devon had been an oddsmaker, he would have put the likelihood of seeing Regina tonight at 50 percent.

  After the way she’d avoided him for days, then danced around the idea of meeting, he feared her conflicted feelings about their relationship had overshadowed the attraction.

  Then, in the middle of a meeting with his planning committee for the Mesa Falls launch event, he’d spotted her text asking if they could get together.

  “This was a fun surprise.” Regina’s face glowed in the firelight as she passed him an old-fashioned tin star for the top of the Christmas tree in his cabin. “I never guessed you would choose tree-decorating for a date night. Where did you get the ornaments?”

  They were seated on the couch in the living area. Instrumental Christmas tunes played over the room’s built-in speaker system, and the white tree lights glowed on the fresh balsam, which was tucked in the corner between the bookshelves and a wingback.

  Regina’s red sweater had a V-neck that framed a necklace of tiny silver jingle bells, and a slim black skirt hugged her curves in a way that drew his eye every time she moved. Her dark hair was pinned back in a green-and-red plaid bow. She seemed more relaxed tonight than when they’d spoken in the lodge the night before. The jasmine scent of her fragrance wafted under the stronger smell of pine in the room.

  “I ordered the box last week from a charity I work with in New York. They provide everything you need for themed trees, and half the cost goes to holiday gifts for people in need.” He set aside the star to save for the end. “To be honest, I was going to have my staff decorate for a photo op to post on social media. But when you messaged me, I thought it might be fun for us to tackle.”

  She grinned as she pulled a straw cowboy hat ornament from the box. “You must have chosen the Western theme.”

  “The official name is ‘Cowboy Christmas.’” He peered into the box on the coffee table, full of rodeo-themed decorations along with a garland made of twine and tiny reproduction horseshoes. “I thought it would work well with the cabin’s design.”

  “Are they a client of yours?” She sipped the champagne cocktail he’d made for her. Her silver bangle clinked against the base of the flute as she set it back on the table.

  His gaze lingered on the long spill of her dark hair on her shoulder as she moved. He wanted to touch the strands, to breathe in the fragrance of the silky mass. To taste the delicate column of her neck.

  But he was trying his damnedest to give her some space. To let her set the pace tonight after the way she’d seemed skittish about continuing their relationship.

  “You could say that.” He stood up to keep himself from following the impulse to touch her. Digging the garland out of the box, he started wrapping it around the tree limbs. “From the inception of the business, my brother and I wanted to allocate a percentage of company resources to community giving. The organization that sells the ornament boxes was just getting started in New York at the same time we were, so we approached them to see if they wanted some help.”

  The holiday music switched to a country tune, with steel guitars and more folksy vocals. Devon stood back to see how the garland looked while Regina joined him near the tree. Growing up, he had never decorated a tree with his family. In his grandfather’s palatial mansion, trees simply appeared one day, professionally trimmed. Even as an adult, he’d found his decorating opportunities were limited to office parties, as a way to connect with his staff. But something had made him want to share this with Regina tonight. Maybe a sense that her family holidays had to have been painful after her parents’ well-publicized split.

  “That was good of you.” There was a wistful note in her voice as she slid a velvety quarter horse decoration onto a branch. “You’ve accomplished so much between growing your business and giving back.” She straightened the ornament, so the horse dangled the way she wanted it to. “And during that same amount of time, I feel like all I’ve accomplished is chasing my tail.”

  Regret for what she’d gone through rained over him. How could his father have published that damned book and destroyed her family?

  “This week is going to mark a turning point for you, though.” He couldn’t help but touch her then, needing to reassure her. His hand went to the space between her narrow shoulder blades. “Once you have the answers you deserve, you’ll be ready to move forward.”

  Her angora sweater was impossibly soft. Even so, he remembered that it didn’t compare to the texture of the creamy skin beneath it. Thoughts of stripping her naked forced him to move his hand away again.

  “I hope so.” She found more ornaments to hang and they worked in tandem for a few minutes. “Have you heard from April?” Her gaze flicked over to his.

  Wariness crept through him.

  Was this why she’d wanted to see him tonight?

  But then, he told himself it was only natural she’d want to know. He’d just told her she’d have answers soon, after all.

  “She took a red-eye to the West Coast last night.” He met Regina’s surprised gaze. “To follow up on leads you gave her, apparently.”

  Devon hadn’t asked the PI for details. His workdays had been crammed with the logistics of the ranch’s launch event. He had a sizable staff on hand in Montana now, but the event included satellite parties taking place simultaneously on both coasts in real time. This would allow Mesa Falls Ranch to reach more potential clients, even if the expenses were high up front. Bottom line, he needed staffing in both cities, coordinating everything.

  “Wow. That was fast.” Regina held a pewter ornament shaped like a pair of cowboy boot
s in midair, as if she’d forgotten what she was doing. “I’m grateful for your support in helping her get to the bottom of this.”

  Something about the way she said it rankled. He took the boots from her and found a spot for them on the tree, then cupped her shoulders in his hands.

  “I need answers as much as you do. It’s not just kindness. It’s good business to work together.” He didn’t want her gratitude. And damn it, he sure didn’t want to think that she was only spending time with him for the sake of the investigation.

  Her brows knitted together as she frowned. “In that case, thanks for doing business with me.”

  He shook his head, letting go of her. “Are you always so prickly, or is it just me who brings out the defensive side?”

  Her sudden burst of laughter smoothed over his irritation, the sound far more melodious than anything playing on the Christmas music station.

  “Maybe a little of both. I definitely have prickly down to an art.” She bent closer to the coffee table and retrieved her champagne flute for another sip of her drink, the bubbles glowing golden in the firelight.

  “And why is that?” he asked, genuinely curious about her.

  “After the whole debacle of the book—and losing my old friends—it became a protective measure, maybe. It was just easier to keep people at arm’s length rather than let anyone close enough to hurt me again.” She set aside the flute and studied the tree. “And I’ve only started to recognize that tendency this week, as I grow closer to some of the women in my bunkhouse. It makes me realize I’ve gone a lot of years without friends.”

  The acknowledgement of her solitary existence saddened him as she took time rearranging a few of the tree lights so they illuminated some of the ornaments from behind.

  “Will you go home for Christmas?” He hated to think about her remaining at the ranch during a time most people spent with their families.