by Cora Seton
Loser. His father’s voice echoed in his mind.
Evan saw red. “I might be a sore loser, Bumpkin, but when this show’s over, I’m going to be the billionaire and I’m going to own you for a year. Then who’ll be the loser? Huh?”
“Okay, okay, contestants,” Jake said. He stepped forward to reclaim center stage. “Bella gains three points for this challenge, Evan zero.” He paused a minute to let that sink in, his smirk back in place. “Evan, you end Day Two with a grand total of eleven points. Bella…” His smarmy smile broadened. “You have taken the lead with thirteen.”
Bella whooped and jumped up and down in place. “Yeah! Kiss my ass, sucker!” She waved her hat around and did a sort of wriggling dance that almost caused Evan to smile.
Almost.
His scowl resumed its place by the time she replaced her hat and stopped celebrating. When Jake cleared his throat, he reluctantly turned his attention back to the man.
“Evan, you’ll be thrilled to hear the two of you won’t take the tramway back down Whistler’s Mountain. Instead, you’ll hike down to give you more time to enjoy the spectacular scenery and stretch your legs. Here are maps to your campsite for the evening. We have a special surprise for you two tonight.”
Evan grabbed the proffered map and stalked toward the trail down the mountain without looking back. He was done playing the chump in this contest, and he wasn’t waiting for Bella to keep up with him. As far as he was concerned, she was just a pawn in his strategy to get control of Mortimer Innovations for good.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Bella hung back for a minute before she grabbed her map and followed after Evan, still shocked at the change that had come over him when he lost the challenge. Even his camera crew hung back, reluctant to be the next targets of his rage. Sure, he’d been annoying before, but this was different. She didn’t like the way he’d tried to bully Jake and Madelyn, and she didn’t care at all for the tone he used to address her. She monitored her feelings as she began the descent, hearing Nita and Paul take their places behind her. Her chest was tight, shoulders ached and she was finding it hard to breathe evenly. All her body’s normal stress signals.
In her family emotions had always been kept under wraps, all the more so after the day Caramel died, so when someone yelled or cried or even laughed too loud—it made her want to run away and hide. She’d never stood up to anyone the way she just stood up to Evan, and she couldn’t understand why she suddenly found the gumption to do so. Maybe because she’d cheated death this morning? She felt like she could take on anything and survive.
In fact, even if she lost this stupid television show and couldn’t return to Chance Creek for a year, she bet there was still some way to help the animals in her care. She could make an on-air plea during the last show for volunteers to open their homes, or to donate money. The producers had to give her some time to settle her affairs, didn’t they, before they shipped her off to become Mrs. Mortimer? She’d do whatever it took not to euthanize a single pet at the clinic, and even while she was stuck in California she could do something to help other animals. Evan couldn’t need her 24-7 and he was a money guru, wasn’t he? She could learn from him and the people around him how to raise money—real money—in order to help spay and neuter pets. Somehow, mired in the day-to-day details of her practice it didn’t seem possible to do anything else but navigate from crisis to crisis, but that was stupid; she had all sorts of options.
Heck, she might actually win this thing.
Maybe getting angry was good for her, Bella thought as she strode down the track, feeling the tension begin to melt away from her neck. The possibility of losing her business was still devastating, but she’d survived a lot already. She’d probably survive that, too.
The fresh air must be making progress in her brain. Maybe Hannah had been right all this time; maybe getting away from her business once in a while could help her get a new perspective on her problems.
Could she begin to get her message across to viewers even before the contest was over—that her clinic needed help? She would have to be sly about it; she had a feeling Madelyn would edit out overt calls for donations. But what if she mentioned the clinic during the exciting moments she knew Madelyn had to keep?
That ought to keep everyone off balance, she thought with a grin. Feeling lighter on her feet than she had since she landed in Jasper, Bella continued down the track with renewed vigor. If she played her cards right she could solve the clinic’s problems no matter what the outcome of the show.
* * * * *
Evan knew he must be setting a record pace for the descent of Whistler’s Mountain. His camera crew was hustling to keep up with him, judging by the muffled curses and skids of shoe leather on stone he kept hearing behind him.
He didn’t care. He was furious with Madelyn, furious with fate, and most of all furious at himself. How could he screw up a stupid photography shoot, when there were obviously animals and birds all around him? How could he be such a stupid loser?
Loser.
His father had loved that word. His business associates were losers, his squash opponents were losers, anyone who didn’t earn seven figures or more a year was a loser. In his father’s world there were two kinds of people: those who counted and those who didn’t. Each time Evan screwed up, he knew he skated closer to the line that separated him from the unwashed hordes.
Well, he counted now. Even his father would have to admit that. He was a billionaire for crying out loud and long before he inherited the majority shares, he’d brought millions of dollars of profits to the family business. He was a winner. He had been for years, and with his father’s death the last person to question that was gone. He had a clean slate.
Except now he was screwing up again.
He walked faster. So he’d blown one challenge—one stupid challenge that depended on luck, not skill, mind you. He’d work his way back into first place and he’d stay there.
And if he couldn’t do it through strength and skill, he’d intimidate the hell out of everyone until they handed him the victory.
Evan stopped dead.
Chris and Andrew stumbled to a halt behind him and for one long moment everything was still. Evan scanned the valley that still unfolded beneath him, fringed in all directions by forbidding, snow-topped mountains. A breeze tinged with the breath of arctic winter played across his face and dried the sweat from the back of his neck. Quiet reigned. True quiet.
And in it Evan heard the voice of the conscience he no longer knew he had.
He sounded just like his father with his emphasis on winning at all costs. Just like the man who’d made his childhood miserable and turned his mother from the pretty girl he’d seen in photographs to the querulous clinging woman who’d kept him locked to her side.
What had winning gotten him? An empire? An amount of money in his bank account he couldn’t spend no matter how hard he tried?
A life of unending loneliness?
He sat down heavily in the center of the track, ignoring the whispered conversation among the crew behind him.
“What’s he doing?”
“Shh!”
Slowly, he pulled the water bottle from his daypack and took a swig.
Then he began to laugh.
Had he really thought he could get away from his past just by burying everyone who’d been a part of it? His mom and dad were gone—great—and he thought that was going to set him free? It obviously hadn’t, because here he was acting like his mother could still stifle him at any moment and his father still watched him like a hawk for any sign of failure.
When was the last time he simply acted from the heart?
He couldn’t answer that.
Here he was—a billionaire—locked in competition with a little cowgirl veterinarian from Montana who just wanted to feed her kittens, and he was acting like he was personally in charge of storming the beaches of Normandy. When had his perspective flown out the window? He could buy and sell Bella�
��s business ten times over. He could buy a hundred wives.
What was wrong with him?
For one awful moment his laughter hitched on a sob and he thought he might lose his grip right here on national television. He refused to do that. He pushed himself heavily to his feet and turned around.
Chris and Andrew scuttled off the path and several moments later Bella strode into sight. She faltered when she saw him and slowed to a halt.
Holding his hands out before him as if to show he wasn’t armed, he simply said, “I’m sorry.”
She didn’t look convinced.
“Really, Bella. I don’t know how to explain what happened up there except to say that competitiveness is an occupational hazard in my business and sometimes I don’t know how to shut it off. You might not believe this, but that’s not me—not the real me, anyway.”
“It doesn’t matter what I think of you, does it?” she said slowly.
He was struck again by her wholesome beauty, a kind he didn’t often see among the women in his social circle. She didn’t need makeup or surgery to create the illusion of prettiness. Bella defined prettiness, just as she was.
She defined other things, too. Honesty. Compassion.
“It matters to me. Come on—can we walk together?”
She still eyed him warily as they went forward side by side, and he decided not to press his luck. No need to fill up the silence with chatter, anyway. His own insights were still too new to share and he didn’t want to pave them over with platitudes about the scenery. He figured when either of them had something real to say, they’d say it.
Their silence stretched ten, then twenty minutes, so when Bella finally spoke up, it startled him.
“Do you know anything about fundraising?”
“I know who to call if I want investors,” he said. “That’s probably not what you mean, though.”
“No.” She looked pensive. “I think I need to make some changes when I get back home—regardless of whether or not I win. I don’t think I’m running the Chance Creek Pet Clinic as well as I could.”
He remembered joking with Amanda about her lack of business skills back in San Jose. “You really have two businesses, don’t you? A normal veterinary office whose clients pay for the care you give their pets, and an animal shelter that relies on donations?”
She looked at him in surprise. “Yes, that’s it exactly. Except the shelter doesn’t get enough donations. Chance Creek, Montana is a small town and most of its population lives on the ranches which surround it. They’re hardworking people, but ranching doesn’t pay all that well. Not everyone has money to give.”
“But you’re interested in learning more about fundraising.”
“I am. You’re right—the Chance Creek Pet Clinic pays its way, but the Chance Creek Animal Shelter needs all the help it can get. We have loads of cats and dogs that need good homes, and other animals unfit for adoption that simply need enough food to eat and room to run around. How would you suggest I raise money for the Chance Creek Shelter?”
Evan narrowed his eyes. Was it his imagination or was she giving that very shelter a plug on national television? Maybe she didn’t need all that much help with fundraising after all, but he knew that Madelyn could easily edit out those sentences. Best to sandwich it between footage she couldn’t afford to cut. He reached out and took Bella’s hand, holding tight when she made to yank it free. He knew both cameras had zoomed in to capture the motion, so he hurried to say, “I’d start by building a website that told all about the Chance Creek Shelter’s mission, with plenty of photographs of your facility and the animals who live there, some information about each specific goal, and a way for people to donate online. Do you have a favorite animal?”
Bella smiled although she was still trying to disengage her hand. He gave it a sharp tug, trying to send her a message. Leaning close to her ear, he whispered, play along, without moving his lips. She looked at him askance, but he was sure she heard what he said when she stopped pulling her hand away.
“I love all the animals that come to stay at the Chance Creek Shelter in Montana, but I love Rusty the best. He’s a mutt who was dropped off on my doorstep a few months ago with a damaged paw. He must have stepped into a trap, because two of his toes were nearly ripped off his foot. We did emergency surgery that turned out to be highly successful and today he can run and jump like he was never even injured. I swear Rusty lets me know he loves me every time he sees me, and the gratitude in his eyes and the way he’s so happy and so playful now just makes my day. I miss him.”
“I bet he misses you, too. I’ll tell you what. You get that website up and running and I’ll be the first one to donate to the Chance Creek Shelter.” He smiled at her.
Bella smiled back, somewhat uncertainly. He wondered if Madelyn would cut all that, or if their unexpected hand-holding would be enough to make her keep it in the show? Hell, why risk it? Evan stopped, pulled Bella close and kissed her square on the lips.
He meant it to be short and sweet, but when her body slammed against his and his arms tightened reflexively around her, he didn’t want to let go. He slid one hand up her back and under her curls to cup her head, while his other hand remained at her waist, pulling her close. She made a surprised noise and he deepened the kiss, groaning when her arms slid around his neck. She was answering him, kissing him back with as much fervor as he was her.
“Bella,” he whispered against her neck when he finally pulled away. “Sweet, sweet Bella.”
* * * * *
“Cut!”
Bella leaped back out of Evan’s arms when Madelyn’s strident voice cut through the mountain air. One hand to her throat, she fought to get her heart rate under control. Evan and the camera crews looked just as surprised to see her here, but Madelyn was as cool as always, dressed in pin-neat dungarees and sparkling clean hiking boots, paired with a short-sleeved button-down blouse that looked newly ironed.
“You two are supposed to be competitors, not fuck-buddies!”
Bella cringed.
“Hey,” Evan said. “Watch your language.”
Madelyn fixed him with a look that could melt tar off a roof. “Watch your hands, mister—and your lips. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. Trying to convince Miss Just-Off-The-Turnip-Truck over there to think you’re falling in love with her so she’ll throw the contest and waltz off with you into never-never land? That’s not how this show works!” She turned to Bella. “We research our contestants carefully, did you know that? Did you also know that Evan Mortimer here has never dated a woman for more than two weeks before dumping her? And once they sleep together he doesn’t even spend the night. Very nice, Mortimer.” She gave him a disgusted look.
“That’s the man who’s kissing you, Bella. That’s the guy who wants to win this contest so bad because he’s too cheap to pay a woman to be his wife for a year. That’s the guy you’re going to live with day in, day out for three hundred and sixty-five consecutive days—and nights—if you lose. A man who’s so selfish he can’t even be bothered to sleep through the night beside the woman he fucks. Are you going to fall for that?”
Bella glanced at Evan, heat rising in her cheeks. He had turned away and stood staring into the distance, a muscle twitching in his jaw. He didn’t deny any of it.
She let out a shaky breath. If Madelyn hadn’t come along, she would have fallen for it hook, line and sinker. His touch made her hum with excitement and his lips on hers transported her away from her daily life into the possibility of a future in which she was worthy of love.
But she wasn’t worthy of love, was she? Or respect. Or anything else. She was just Bella—the one who always screwed up. The rancher’s daughter who was terrified of horses. The veterinarian who couldn’t even keep a roof over the heads of the animals who depended on her.
She shook her head at Madelyn and pushed past her, tears clouding her eyes. A powerful, successful man like Evan Mortimer wouldn’t think twice about using her to ge
t what he wanted. He sure as hell wouldn’t fall in love with her.
Barely three minutes later, she rounded a bend in the path and realized how Madelyn had found them while remaining so spotless. They were down the mountain and here were the SUVs. She climbed into the nearest one, slid down in the seat and closed her eyes.
* * * * *
“You really thought you were going to get away with that?” Madelyn asked, fixing Evan with a beady glare.
“I wasn’t trying to get away with anything,” Evan said tiredly. He wasn’t sure why he bothered—it wasn’t like Madelyn would understand.
“I know you better than you know yourself, Mortimer,” she snapped, stepping forward to put a finger in his face. “You may think you’ve found a woman you can truly love, but you can’t escape your nature. I guarantee that if I make you share a tent tonight, you’ll be crawling out of there before an hour is up. You are physically incapable of staying with a woman.”
Evan narrowed his eyes. There was a lot of venom in Madelyn’s voice for someone who had only known him a matter of weeks. “Why do you care so much what I do with Bella?” he asked cautiously.
Her eyes widened and her nostrils flared. “I know men like you—selfish, self-absorbed men who don’t realize the good thing they have even after they toss it away. You are not screwing up my show, Mortimer. Get out there and fight like a man!” She stomped off back down the trail and he followed her more slowly, wondering how he could possibly repair the damage she’d just done to his budding relationship with Bella.
Behind him, Chris and Andrew were whispering, and although he hadn’t been paying attention to their conversation, one phrase carried clearly and nearly brought him up short.
