by Joanne Rock
“Wow.” Weston gave her an appreciative smile, his hazel eyes warm with welcome. “You look stunning, Lily.”
He was a handsome man with his lanky frame and thick waves of dark blond hair, but he wasn’t the man who filled her thoughts. With his black silk shirt under his tuxedo jacket and his dark dress boots, Weston had a handful of female admirers nearby on the front deck anyhow.
“Thank you.” She appreciated the compliment on a night when she was feeling vulnerable. “Have the guests of honor arrived yet?”
“Devon is inside enduring a rare visit from my brother,” he said dryly. “Marcus hasn’t arrived yet.”
Her heart fell at the news. If she’d known Marcus wouldn’t be here this evening, she would have found an excuse to fly home.
“I’m anxious to meet your brother,” she assured Weston, thanking him for the evening and then entering the house.
Inside, the rock music from the outdoor speaker was less intrusive. But the event remained decidedly unstuffy, with the dessert station featuring cookies painted to look like woodland creatures, a decorative ice sculpture modeled after nearby Trapper Peak and a lively dartboard on a side deck where guests could take aim around a natural waterfall sluicing down the mountain.
She was watching a young woman line up her shot when she felt a familiar presence at her side.
“Hello, Lily.”
Despite her preparation for the evening—her care in dressing, her mental pep talks about how to handle this situation—she couldn’t help a rush of relief at the sound of Marcus’s voice. Or the liquid heat that flooded her veins just from being near him.
Turning, she met his dark brown eyes in the glow of the white lights strung from the pergola-style arches overhead. Right away, she felt the coolness in their depths. She sensed that he’d retreated from her in every way since they’d last spoken.
Because he was that good at keeping things simple and had known it was time to shut down the affair? She wondered if she’d been a complete fool not to listen to him when he’d warned her about that. She could never accuse him of not being honest.
“Welcome back,” she greeted him, tempering her need to fling her arms around him and kiss him.
Instead, she knotted her fingers together, clutching her silver purse tighter. He was so handsome in his tuxedo, the classic lines well suited to his broad chest and narrow hips. His thick dark hair framed his face, his expression serious.
“I’m only staying for the party. I have a flight back to Los Angeles in two hours.”
“Good of you to make time in your schedule.” She noticed his brother was watching them, a concerned frown on his face. How had she ever been so optimistic as to think she could help these two smooth over their differences? Marcus seemed more remote than ever.
“Do you have a moment?” he asked, leaning fractionally closer. “I’d like to speak to you privately.”
Her heart sped faster. Foreboding mingled with nerves.
“Of course.” She followed him as he led her past a throng of guests, into a foyer and through a room on the opposite side of the house.
They came to tall double doors that were closed. When Marcus opened them, she saw steps that led down into a more casual family room. Beyond that, there was an office illuminated by a small desk lamp.
“Are you sure—” she began.
“I asked Weston where we could speak. This was his suggestion,” Marcus informed her as he pulled the double doors closed behind him, dulling the noise and laughter of the party.
Now they were alone in the sunken family room. The gray stone floor was softened by a woven mat in a natural fiber. The floor-to-ceiling windows were covered with bamboo shades. Plants and small trees were the only decorations except for a contemporary sculpture of a young woman seated by the fireplace. Carved in a shiny black stone, the artwork was compelling. Lily would have enjoyed a closer look if she hadn’t been worried about whatever Marcus wanted to say.
Privately.
“I realize we went into an affair knowing that it wouldn’t last, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t significant for me.” He launched into his thoughts without preamble, as if he had a prepared statement.
Lily tensed. Whatever he wanted to talk about couldn’t be good. He hadn’t touched her. He hadn’t even suggested they sit, so she stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, feeling off balance.
“It had meaning for me, too, Marcus,” she assured him. “It still does.”
She wanted to tell him about the realizations she’d come to while her grandparents were in town. How she’d wanted to see him afterward, craved his presence. But his jaw flexed, his mouth drawing into a flat line.
“Nevertheless, I saw our time together in a new light after Devon arrived.” His dark gaze flickered with the first hint of passionate feelings—but not necessarily the romantic kind.
Still, she was glad to see he lurked somewhere within the expressionless man who’d asked to speak to her alone.
“How so?” she asked, preferring to get whatever was bothering him out into the light where she could confront it head-on.
She realized her fingertips had fallen to the amethysts around her neck and she dropped her hand, unwilling to betray any need for comfort when he seemed so resolute.
“My brother sent you here to keep me on the premises, knowing full well that I had a long-standing—” he seemed to search for the right word “—interest in you.”
She didn’t want to believe that of her friend. But then again, Devon had always put his business goals first. Outside the double doors, a burst of laughter felt a world away from their conversation.
“That seems coldly unfair. Even for Devon.” She wanted to reach out, to touch Marcus and somehow melt the icy veneer she sensed between them. Just for a moment. “But I would have never come here if I’d had any idea—”
“I know that,” Marcus said simply, his stiff shoulders relaxing just a fraction. He paced a few steps away from her and ran his finger over the natural wood mantel built into the stone surround. “I wouldn’t have returned to Mesa Falls at all if I’d thought there was any chance you were aware of his motives.”
The tightness in her chest eased at the admission.
“Then how did talking with Devon make you view what happened between us in a new light?” She sensed him pulling away.
On the afternoon that she’d asked her grandparents to leave her alone, she’d scoured the ranch searching for Marcus, ready to tell him she was falling for him. Had she saved herself heartache by not finding him? Or was it simply delayed?
“You may not have been spying for him, but you were almost certainly putting forward his agenda.” Marcus paused beside the stone sculpture of the girl, his demeanor every bit as remote. His gaze as flat and lifeless as he stared at Lily. “Which leaves me with just one question for you. Were you keeping his secrets for him all the while you were with me?”
An answering anger lashed through her at the unfairness of the question, at being put on trial for transgressions he hadn’t bothered to specify. The music outside the door grew quieter. A muffled sound of a deejay’s voice vibrated through a speaker. The party happening around them felt so surreal when she was alone with Marcus and hurting this way.
“Yes,” she told him honestly. “Though it didn’t matter, since you went on to discover far more about Devon’s movements than he confided in me.”
“That’s all I wanted to know.” His nod was brief. Accepting. Only the tight clench of his fingers revealed that he might have been upset by her answer. He moved toward the double doors as if to exit. “It was that simple. That clear. We can fly to our opposite coasts now, and I will stay out of your way. I think they’re calling Devon and me to the podium.”
His hand was on the doorknob, and he was about to walk out. Anger rushed through her.
�
�That’s it?” Lily’s heart ached, but she swallowed down the hurt in order to articulate exactly what she thought. “I knew you wanted simple, Marcus, but I never would have guessed you wanted things that simple. One question. Is that really the only chance I get to provide any insight on what I feel or what this week meant to me? Are you really unable to acknowledge that everything isn’t black-and-white, to acknowledge the complications I might have encountered because we work together, or because I had just broken off a long relationship?”
He faltered, his hand falling away from the door. Outside the room, she could hear the muffled voice of the deejay again, but she wasn’t inclined to put on her public face right now when someone she’d cared about had just shredded her heart.
He stared at her, his dark eyebrows knitted together, as if unsure what to make of the sudden outpouring. Clearly he hadn’t anticipated this response when he’d been typing up his speaking notes for the one-question interrogation. Still, he didn’t speak.
But he hadn’t left, so she took that as a sign to continue. “Three days ago, I was foolish enough to think maybe I could make you rethink keeping things simple with me.” She doubted she’d ever be able to hear the word again without it hurting. “I thought you were honest and forthright, but now I see that was only because you refuse to look any deeper than the surface. I deserve better than a man who thinks he can analyze my motives or my heart with a single question.” She charged past him, opening the door for herself. “Good night, Marcus. And goodbye.”
Lily felt the attention of the partygoers from the formal living room on the far side of the foyer. But she kept focused on making it out the door. With her chest aching in a way she’d never experienced during the breakup of her engagement, Lily stepped into the rapidly cooling night.
It was easy to see why it hurt now in a way it hadn’t then. She loved Marcus.
* * *
For the first time in his life, Marcus could see the benefit to having a heart of ice like his brother. Because while Marcus was reeling from Lily’s words, Devon was able to charm the crowd when the Salazar brothers were called to the small podium.
Marcus had stalked out there like a man held with marionette strings, his brain somewhere else entirely. He’d missed something big with Lily. He’d lashed out at her because he’d been hurting. He’d failed to listen.
He hadn’t seen the big picture.
The realization slammed home while he stood among the well-heeled crowd the owners of Mesa Falls Ranch had gathered to welcome Salazar Media to town. The sustainable ranching idea was gaining momentum, and the six men who shared ownership of the retreat wanted to use the place as a way to showcase their successes. Each of those six men had other interests outside the ranch, and supporters from those businesses were here tonight. Weston’s brother, Miles, had another ranch in the Sierra foothills of California. Gage Striker was an investment banker and angel investor for any number of companies. If Marcus hadn’t been emotionally drained by what had just happened with Lily, he would have been making mental notes about ways to approach some of them for future business opportunities.
As it was, he stood by Devon and let his brother do the talking until the crowd applauded, the music started up again and Marcus could get out of there. He began walking toward the door.
“Wait up,” Devon called from behind him.
Marcus slowed his step.
Devon scowled at him, steering him toward a small media room behind the main staircase. It had four leather chairs facing a big screen and was paneled with soundproof tiles and cherry wainscoting, a blend of old world and new.
“What did you say to Lily?” Devon demanded as he closed the door behind them. He folded his arms across his chest, barring the door like a damn bouncer.
Marcus wanted to tell him that he hadn’t treated her any worse than Devon had.
But was that even true?
He hated to think he’d wounded her even more deeply than the man who’d sent her—while engaged—into Marcus’s path. His head throbbed with regret while some of the fight leaked out of him.
“I said all the wrong things. All the stupidest, wrongheaded things.” He jammed his hands in his pants pockets, balling his fists. “The worst part of it was I had days to think about what I was going to say. And in my head, I sounded calm and reasonable.”
Pivoting on his heel when he reached the end of the room, he paced back toward his brother. Devon had leaned back against the door, still blocking it but not appearing quite as aggressive.
“She looked upset,” Devon observed as he stared down at his shiny wing tips.
“And that’s helping, thanks.”
“It’s my fault, too.” His brother stroked the two-day growth of beard he’d been favoring for the last year or two, so his jaw was perpetually in shadow. “I shouldn’t have asked her to come out here in the first place, but since Dad died...”
Marcus quit pacing, surprised to hear the shift in his brother’s tone, and even more surprised to hear an admission of guilt, however small.
Devon cleared his throat and hefted out a sigh. “There’s no one to run interference for us anymore. And she’s tougher than she looks, so I told myself it would be okay.”
For a moment, Marcus let that sink in. The party outside was barely audible in here. And it wasn’t as though Marcus wanted to socialize. Had Lily actually said that she’d been contemplating asking him for more? For something deeper than “simple”?
He’d been unprepared for that. He’d spent a lifetime telling himself that he didn’t play games with women. But it turned out that by oversimplifying romance, he’d been playing a kind of game after all. He didn’t know how to handle something real.
“She might resign, you know.” Which would be a disaster for the company, but was the far lesser of Marcus’s concerns.
“I’ll fix it,” Devon assured him, sounding more confident than he looked at the moment. “At the very least, I’ll take over on site to manage the event moving forward. That gives her freedom to do—” his gaze shifted warily to him “—whatever she needs to do.”
Marcus had no idea what that might entail. But he knew he needed to talk to her.
“You’d stay on here?” he asked, relieved on that score at least. If Devon set his mind on patching up the Salazar relationship with Mesa Falls Ranch, Marcus knew it would happen.
“Consider it done. I’ve already got a trail ride scheduled in the morning to bring myself up to speed on the property.” He checked a card in his jacket pocket, then held it up for proof. “Regina Flores at ten o’clock.”
Marcus nodded. “Thanks for that.”
Not that it helped with Lily.
“Did you read Dad’s letter?” Devon asked, straightening from the doorway.
“What letter?” As soon as he asked, however, he remembered. “Hell.”
He patted his breast pocket even as he recalled it wouldn’t be there since he’d folded the note and put it in a different jacket pocket three days go. The letter hung in his closet right now.
Devon withdrew his phone from his jacket and scrolled through images before he passed it silently to Marcus.
“You photographed it?” Marcus enlarged the image.
“I have trust issues,” Devon said with a straight face. “I photographed every one of the papers the moment I opened the envelope.”
Sinking into one of the leather chairs, Marcus focused on his father’s handwritten words, addressed to his sons. Heartfelt and succinct, Alonzo Salazar outlined his regrets about disrespecting Devon’s mother by having an affair with Marcus’s mother, and his regrets about harming Marcus’s mother through an affair with another woman.
I haven’t been a good father or a good partner. In the end, I was lonely. Surrounded by friends but no family since my selfish choices made the people around me wary and bitter. I drove wedges betwe
en people instead of bringing them together. I wanted the two of you to join forces to form the company so you would have a connection. I know it hasn’t been easy working together, but somehow, I still hope maybe you’ll try to make it work. It’s too late for me to have a family, but I’d like to think it’s not too late for me to leave you with one.
Marcus stared at the letter for a long time, the words blurring on the screen. It was hard to empathize with his father, because he had hurt them all. It was why Marcus had never been close to him or his brother. But there was a wisdom in what he said. Keeping secrets in the Salazar family had become such a way of life that it was second nature for him and Devon not to trust each other. The fact that Lily had been caught between those two forces was no fault of her own, and he’d closed the door on their relationship because of it.
When he stood, he passed the phone back to Devon.
“I’m not him,” Marcus said simply. “And I’m not going to make his mistakes.”
He reached for the door, and Devon followed, not stopping him.
“Does that mean you’ll consider keeping the company together?” Devon asked.
Outside the media room, the party was in full swing. The bar was now filled with top-shelf champagne bottles, which the servers were passing around liberally. On the exterior deck, someone was taking video of a new arrival, a hum of excitement in the crowd as a small entourage appeared on the stone steps.
“I’m not sure.” Marcus hadn’t given any more thought to Salazar Media. “But I’m not letting Lily get away without a fight.”
Thirteen
Still wearing her evening gown, Lily packed her leather suitcase methodically, determined to take comfort from the ritual of rolling her socks together.
Back in the comfort of her rooms in the main lodge after the disastrous reception, she planned to spend her money very unwisely by driving to the airport and paying for the first available flight out. It was better than asking any favors of her grandparents, even though she’d have a private flight that way, a comfort that tempted her when she felt wrecked inside.
