by Milly Taiden
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 sh
ort 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 get 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.
“Of course she wants him to win; the network doesn’t want to shell out another five million bucks.”
He masked his surprise as a stumble and kept going, hoping his camera crew hadn’t realized he’d overheard them. Madelyn wanted him to win? Was that why she was so angry?
The network didn’t want to spend another five million, eh? He knew they’d already had to pay one contestant the money this season. So despite the debacle up on the mountain, the show was actually stacked in his favor—not Bella’s.
Somehow that knowledge didn’t sit well with him.
The kayaking contest had nearly killed Bella. Just how far was Madelyn willing to go to get the result the network wanted?
Mulling over these questions and more, he continued walking. Soon the trail widened and he realized they’d made it down the mountain. Madelyn showed him to a different SUV than the one Bella was riding in and moments later the vehicle whisked him away to a new destination.
He labored to sort out everything that had happened. The elation he felt on the mountainside as his revelation overtook him was long gone, decimated by Madelyn’s devastating recap of his prior love life, and the knowledge the show might indeed be rigged. Bella hated him more than ever, despite his attempt to help her promote the Chance Creek Pet Clinic and Shelter.
How to get things back on track?
He leaned back and considered this. What were his final objectives? He learned long ago that the best way to accomplish anything was to start with your goal and work backward. His first goal was to secure his control over his company. He’d prefer for Bella to be his wife for the year, but if it meant she’d hate him for all eternity there were other options. His second goal was to prove he wasn’t like his father. He wanted to show that he could be a good loser and that he understood other people’s dreams and aspirations were just as important as his.
His third goal was not to let Madelyn control the outcome of the show. If she stacked the contest against Bella, he could very well lose Bella for good. On the other hand, if he decided to throw the show and overtly tried to lose the challenges, both women would catch on, and he’d lose just the same. Madelyn would charge him with breaking his contract, and Bella would hate his guts.
Where did that leave him? Should he try to win and use the year with Bella to change her mind about him? Somehow he didn’t think that would work.
No, if he really wanted Bella in his life, he had to lose, and convince her to marry him just the same. Which meant he had to lose in such a way he looked like he was trying to win.
Okay, that was confusing.
He shook his head at the craziness of his situation, and puzzled on through the rest of it. From now on he’d make Bella go first when it came to the challenges so he’d have time to plan how best to lose inconspicuously. He needed to act angry when he lost, too—but not so angry he turned Bella off even more than his temper tantrum on the mountaintop had. He had to lose gracefully but realistically.
Hell, if he pulled this act off, he would deserve an award.
And if he didn’t pull it off, he’d lose Bella.
***
CHAPTER NINE
Several hours later, Bella slipped into the steaming pools of the Miette Hot Springs. They’d dined well but silently at a picnic area along the road while
the cameras rolled, and were whisked here as an end-of-the-day treat. The hot water felt terrific, even though the evening was still warm. Her muscles relaxed almost immediately and after a day which had included a near-death experience and a kiss that rocked her to her toes, she was grateful to rest against the side of the large pool and merely float.
Unlike some hot springs she’d visited in her youth, these weren’t smelly little pools of sulfurous water. The Miette Hot Springs looked like any other public outdoor swimming facility, except the water was so deliciously hot—it felt like taking a bath under the open sky.
“Bella.”
She opened her eyes at the sound of Evan’s voice. “Leave me alone,” she groaned.
“I will in a minute. I just want to say that Madelyn’s right—we need to finish this contest before anything else happens between us. She’s right about what she said about me and the women I’ve dated, too. I’m not good at relationships. Hell, I suck at them. There’s a reason for that, though. I don’t feel like explaining it on camera, but maybe someday we’ll have the chance to talk privately about it. I hope so.” He swam a little closer. “My life is hectic. You wouldn’t believe how hectic it is. Taking a couple of days off without a computer or even a phone…” He made a face. “It’s like I’m seeing things clearly for the first time in years. And I don’t like what I see. I need to make some changes.”
“What does that have to do with me?” She tried to sound sharp, but in truth she was surprised. He sounded like he’d had a similar revelation to hers.
“Not much—not at the moment.” He smiled wryly. “We’re competitors and I still need a wife. I want it to be you. So I’m going to do my best to win this thing.”
“So am I,” she said, but his words made her insides dance with some emotion she couldn’t even fathom. He wanted her for his wife? That sounded close enough to real desire to make her sink into a swirl of feelings best left unlooked at. She leaned back against the edge of the pool. “I don’t want to be your wife. I want to be rich enough to make a difference to the animals who depend on me.”
