The Rancher--A snowbound Western romance

Home > Romance > The Rancher--A snowbound Western romance > Page 9
The Rancher--A snowbound Western romance Page 9

by Joanne Rock


  Alec shrugged, flicking a white cue ball away from him where he still leaned against the pool table. “I did. The girl I was with was in a snit about it, but I wanted to see what Kara was up to. Besides, in those days, I was more than happy to look for diversions wherever I could find them.”

  They had all been emotionally wrecked during those weeks, not sleeping, barely eating, unable to even talk to each other since being together stirred up painful memories. Miles had thrown himself into work, taking a part-time job in the nearest town to get away from school as much as possible.

  “Did Chiara see you?” Miles wished like hell he remembered that day more clearly.

  “I don’t think so.” He spun the ball under one fingertip, seeming more engaged in the activity than the conversation. But that had always been his way. He had frequently disappeared for days in online realms as a kid and had used that skill as a successful game developer. “She looked nervous. Upset. I had the impression she was afraid of getting caught, because she kept glancing over her shoulder.”

  Miles tried to conjure up a better picture of her from that day when she’d cornered him outside the library. Mostly he remembered that her voice had startled him because it was a girl’s, forcing him to look at her more closely since she’d been dressed the same as any of his classmates—jeans, loafers, dark jacket. The clothes must have been borrowed, because they were big on her. Shapeless. Which was probably the point if she wanted to roam freely among them.

  Even her hair had been tucked half under a ball cap and half under her coat.

  The memory of Chiara’s pale face the morning she’d received the threat returned to his brain, reminding him he needed to figure out who would threaten her. Clenching his fist, he pounded it lightly against the window sash before he spoke.

  “Who else even knows about Zach?” he asked the group around him, the friends he thought he knew so well. “Let alone would feel threatened if his story came to light?”

  For a long moment, the only sounds were the billiard balls Alec knocked against the rails and the sound of ice rattling in Gage’s glass. The silence grated Miles’s nerves, so he shared his last piece of important news to see if it got his friends talking.

  “I’m taking Chiara to the police station after this to let them know about the threats she’s receiving, so there’s a chance we’ll have to answer questions from the authorities about Zach.” He knew it went against their longtime promise to protect their friend’s memory. But her safety had to come first.

  “You would do that?” Alec shook his head and pushed away from the pool table.

  Desmond spoke at the same time. “The negative publicity around Mesa Falls is going to have consequences.”

  From his seat on the leather sofa, Wes shut down the television screen on the wall before he spoke.

  “In answer to your question about who else would remember Zach, he was well-known at Dowdon. Teachers and other students all liked him. As for why someone wouldn’t want his story to come out...” Wes hesitated, his hazel eyes flicking from one face to the next. “He had a past. And secrets of his own. Maybe we didn’t know Zach as well as we thought we did.”

  That left the suite even quieter than before. Desmond broke the silence with a soft oath before he leaned over and poured himself a drink from the tray in front of the couch.

  The meeting ended with a resolution to convene the next day in the hope they got word from their investigator about Matthew and Nicole Cruz by then. As they began filing out of the suite, Alec and Jonah were still arguing about the idea that they didn’t know Zach after all. Miles didn’t stick around, not sure what he thought about the possibility.

  For now, he needed to see Chiara.

  Stalking out of the meeting room, he ran into a young woman hovering around the door. Dressed in leggings and high-top sneakers paired with a blazer, she didn’t have the look of a typical casino guest. A red curl fell in her face as she flushed.

  “Sorry. Is the meeting over?” she asked, pushing the curl away from her lightly freckled face. As she shifted, her blazer opened to reveal a T-shirt with the characters from Alec’s video game. “I’m waiting for Alec—” She glanced over Miles’s shoulder. “Is he here?”

  Miles nodded but didn’t open the door for her since his partners were still discussing Zach. “Just finishing up. He should be out in a minute. Do you work with Alec?”

  She hesitated for the briefest moment, a scowl darkening her features, before she thrust out her hand. “I’m his assistant, Vivian Fraser.”

  Miles shook it, surprised they hadn’t met before. “Miles Rivera. Nice to meet you, Vivian.”

  Politely, he moved past her, writing off the awkward encounter as his thoughts turned to Chiara.

  He’d promised her a date, yes. And the drive to see her was stronger than ever after a meeting that had shaken his foundations. But more importantly, he had questions for her. Questions that couldn’t afford to get sidelined by their attraction, no matter how much he wanted to touch her again.

  * * *

  Chiara sent her bodyguard home for the day when she saw Miles approaching the restaurant. Astrid had departed five minutes before, after seeing Jonah’s text to meet him in a private suite he’d taken for the rest of their afternoon together.

  The new mother had seemed surprised, flustered and adorably excited to have her husband all to herself for a few hours. Chiara had felt a sharp pang of loneliness once she’d left, recognizing that she’d never felt that way about a man. The lack had never bothered her much. Yet between the incredible night she’d spent with Miles and seeing Astrid’s happiness transform her, the universe seemed to be conspiring to make her crave romance.

  So when Miles slowed his step near the hostess stand of Spice Pavilion, Chiara bristled with defensiveness before he’d even spoken. It didn’t help that he was absurdly handsome, impeccably dressed and only had eyes for her, even though he attracted plenty of feminine attention.

  “Hello, Chiara.” He spoke the greeting with careful deliberation, no doubt emphasizing his good manners after she’d mentioned his habit of skipping the social niceties. “Did you enjoy your lunch?”

  She’d been too preoccupied—and maybe a little nervous—about spending more time with him to eat much of anything, but she didn’t share that. She rose from the bench where she’d been waiting, restless and needing to move.

  “It’s always a treat to see Astrid,” she told him instead, her slim-cut skirt hugging her thighs as she moved, her body more keenly aware whenever he was near her. “But what about you? Have you eaten?”

  She didn’t know what went on behind closed doors during a Mesa Falls owners’ meeting, but she couldn’t envision some of the country’s wealthiest men ordering takeout over a conference table. As they walked through the wide corridor that connected the shops to the casino, Chiara dug in her handbag for a pair of sunglasses and slid them into place, hoping to remain unrecognized. The casino crowd was a bit older than her traditional fan base, but she didn’t want to risk getting sidetracked from her goal.

  “I’m too keyed up to be hungry.” Miles took her hand in his, the warmth of his touch encircling her fingers. “Let’s take care of reporting the threats against you, and then we need to talk.”

  She glanced over at him, but his face revealed nothing of his thoughts.

  “We’re on the same page then.” She kept close to him as he increased his pace, cutting through the crowd of tourists, gamblers and locals who visited the Excelsior for a day of entertainment. “Because I hardly touched my lunch for thinking about how much we needed to speak.”

  He slowed his step just long enough to slant her a sideways glance. “Good. After we take care of the errand at the police station, we can go to your house or my suite. Whichever you prefer for privacy’s sake.”

  The mention of that kind of privacy made her remember what ha
ppened when they’d been alone behind closed doors at his home in Mesa Falls. But she agreed. They needed that kind of security for this conversation.

  “You have a suite here?” she asked, her heartbeat picking up speed even though they were already heading toward the parking lot, where she guessed Miles had a car waiting.

  She suddenly remembered Astrid’s face when Jonah had texted her to meet him in a suite for the afternoon. Her friend had lit up from the inside. Chiara had the feeling she looked the exact same way even though her meeting behind closed doors with Miles had a very different purpose.

  “I do.” His blue gaze was steady as he stopped in the middle of the corridor to let a small troop of feather-clad dancers in matching costumes and sky-high heels glide past them. “Should we go there afterward?”

  A whirlwind of questions circled beneath that deceptively simple one. Would she end up in his bed again? Did he want her there? But first and foremost, she needed to know what had happened at the meeting and if Miles had any ideas about who was threatening her.

  So she hoped for the best and gave him the only possible response.

  “Yes, please.”

  Eight

  Filing a formal complaint with the proper authorities took more time than Chiara would have guessed, which left her more than a little frustrated and exhausted. She hitched her purse up on her shoulder as she charged through the sliding door of the local police station and into a swirl of late-afternoon snow flurries. The whole process had stretched out as Miles spoke to multiple officers at length, eliciting information on possible precautions to take to protect her.

  Each cop they’d spoken to had been courteous and professional but not very encouraging that they would be able to help. With the rise of cybercrime, law enforcement was tapped more and more often for infractions committed online, but most local agencies weren’t equipped to provide the necessary investigative work. The FBI handled major cases, but at the local level, the best they could do was point her in the direction of the appropriate federal agency, especially considering the threat had targeted Chiara’s livelihood and not her person. Still, the importance of the case was increased by the fact that she was a public figure. She’d worked with the local police to file the complaints with the proper federal agencies, and they’d suggested she keep careful records of any problems in the future.

  Bottom line, someone would look into it, but chances were good nothing more would come of it unless the threats against her escalated. And thanks to Miles, she wasn’t handling this alone.

  Chiara glanced back over her shoulder at him as he rebuttoned his suit jacket on their way out the door.

  “Thank you for going with me.” Chiara held the handrail as she descended the steps outside the municipal building almost three hours after they’d arrived. Her breath huffed visibly in the chilly mountain air as flurries circled them on a gust of wind. “I know it wasn’t as satisfying as we might have hoped, but at least we’ve laid the groundwork if the hacker follows through on his threats.”

  “Or her threats,” Miles added, sliding a hand under her elbow and steering her around a patch of ice as they reached the parking lot. “We haven’t ruled out a woman’s hand in this.”

  She pulled her coat tighter around her, glad for Miles’s support on the slick pavement. The temperature had dropped while they were inside. Then again, thinking about someone threatening her business empire might have been part of the chill she felt. She’d given up her dream of becoming an artist to build the social media presence that had become a formidable brand. That brand was worth all the more to her considering the sacrifices she’d made for it along the way.

  “Did you speculate about who might be behind the threats in your meeting today?” she asked, unwilling to delay her questions any longer as they reached his big black Land Rover with snow dusting the hood. “You said you’d share with me what you discussed. And I know Zach’s legacy is a concern for you and your friends.”

  Miles opened the passenger door for her, but before he could reply, a woman’s voice called from the next row over in the parking lot.

  “Chiara Campagna?”

  Distracted, Chiara looked up before thinking the better of it. A young woman dressed in black leggings and a bright pink puffer jacket rushed toward them, her phone lifted as if she was taking a video or a picture.

  Miles urged Chiara into the SUV with a nudge, his body blocking anyone from reaching her.

  “We should have kept your bodyguard with us,” he muttered under his breath as other people on the street outside the municipal building turned toward them.

  “Can I get a picture with you?” the woman asked her, already stepping into Miles’s personal space and thrusting her phone toward him as she levered between the vehicle and the open door. “I’m such a huge fan.”

  Chiara put a hand on Miles’s arm to let him know it was okay, and he took the phone from the stranger. Chiara knew it might be wiser to leave now before the crowd around them grew, but she’d never been good at disappointing fans. She owed them too much. Yet, in her peripheral vision, she could see a few other people heading toward the vehicle. Impromptu interactions like this could be fun, but they could quickly turn uncomfortable and borderline dangerous.

  “Sure,” Chiara replied, hoping for the best as she tilted her head toward the other woman’s, posing with her and looking into the lens of the camera phone. “But I can only do one,” she added, as much for Miles’s benefit as the fan’s.

  Miles took the shot and lowered the phone, appearing to understand her meaning as he met her gaze with those steady blue eyes of his. Without ever looking away from her, he passed the woman in the puffer jacket her phone.

  “Ms. Campagna is late for a meeting,” he explained, inserting himself between Chiara and the fan before shifting his focus to the other woman. “She appreciates your support, but I need to deliver her to her next appointment now.”

  He backed the other woman away, closing and locking the SUV’s passenger door just in time, as two teenaged boys clambered over to bang on the vehicle’s hood and shout her name, their phones raised.

  The noise made her tense, but Chiara slid her sunglasses onto her nose and kept her head down. She dug in her bag for her own phone, hoping she wouldn’t need to call Stefan for assistance. She’d been in situations with crowds that had turned aggressive before, and the experiences had terrified her. She knew all too well how fast things could escalate.

  But a moment later, the clamor outside the SUV eased enough for Miles to open the driver’s door and slide into his own seat. She peered through the windshield then, spotting a uniformed police officer disbanding the gathering onlookers who had quickly multiplied in number. The teenaged boys were legging it down the street. The woman in the puffer jacket was showing her phone to a group of other ladies, gesturing excitedly with her other hand. People had gathered to see what was happening, stepping out of businesses in a strip mall across the parking lot.

  “I’m sorry about that.” Miles turned on the engine and backed out of the parking space. He gave a wave to the officer through the windshield. “Does that happen often?”

  “Not lately,” she admitted, shaken at the close call. “I’ve gotten better in the last year about wearing hats and sunglasses, keeping security near me, and having my outings really scripted so that I’m never in public for long.”

  She’d been so distracted ever since spending the night with Miles that she was forgetting to take precautions. She pressed farther back in her seat, ready to retreat from the world.

  “That doesn’t sound like a fun way to live.” He steered the vehicle out of the parking lot and started driving away from town. “And now that news of your presence here has no doubt been plastered all over the web, I’d like to take you to the villa you rented instead of the resort. It will be quieter there.”

  “That’s fine.” She appreciat
ed the suggestion as the snow began falling faster. “I’ll message Stefan—he’s my head of security—and ask him to bring in some more help for the rest of my stay.”

  “Good.” Miles nodded his approval of the plan, his square jaw flexing. “Until we find out who’s been threatening you, it pays to take extra safety measures.”

  She drew a deep breath, needing to find a way to reroute this conversation. To return to her goal for this time with Miles, which was to learn more about what happened to Zach. But she hadn’t quite recovered from the near miss with fans who could turn from warmhearted supporters to angry detractors with little to no warning. It only took a few people in a crowd to change the mood or to start shoving.

  “Or...” Miles seemed to muse aloud as he drove, the quiet in the car all the more pronounced as they left the more populated part of the lakeshore behind them.

  When he didn’t seem inclined to finish his thought, Chiara turned to look at him again, but she couldn’t read his expression, which veered between a frown and thoughtful contemplation.

  “Or what?” she prodded him, curious what was on his mind.

  “I was just going to say that if you decide at any time you would prefer more seclusion, my ranch in the Sierra Nevada foothills is open to you.” He glanced her way as he said it.

  “Rivera Ranch?” She knew it was his family seat, the property he invested the majority of his time in running.

  The invitation surprised her. First of all, because Miles seemed like an intensely private man, the most reserved of the Mesa Falls owners. He didn’t strike her as the kind of person to open his home to many people. Secondly, she wouldn’t have guessed that she would rank on the short list of people he would welcome.

  “Yes.” His thumbs drummed softly against the steering wheel. “It’s remote. The property is gated and secure. You’d be safe there.”

  “Alone?” The word slipped out before she could catch it.

 

‹ Prev