The Rebel Page 8
A cloud of disappointment descended on her, snuffing out some of the heated thrill, but not all of it.
“Back to the middle ground,” she mused, wondering why that sounded so difficult with Marcus when she’d never had a problem maintaining professionalism around him in the past.
It was like their time together since her arrival at the ranch had opened the door to a secret side of herself she hadn’t known existed. Now, she wondered how she could have missed out on this kind of pleasure for so long.
He chuckled softly as he edged back from her. “Only for as long as you want to keep things there.” His dark eyes roamed over her in one final caress. “It has to be your call whether or not we move forward from here.”
A shiver rippled over her skin. As reason started to return, she recalled the secret she was keeping from him—that Devon was on his way to the States, but apparently not coming to the ranch right away. Keeping Devon’s confidences while sharing kisses with his brother was not going to end well. Steeling herself against the sensual undertow threatening to pull her under, she huffed out a pent-up breath.
“You’re letting me decide?”
“I already know I want more,” he clarified. “So my decision is made. We declare a relationship to protect ourselves at work. Sign the form that says it’s voluntary, for all the good that does. If you’re okay with it, I really don’t care about any of the rest since we’ll fly back to our respective coasts in the end.” He shook his head slowly, giving her a thoughtful look. “But I also recognize you aren’t used to indulging in the kinds of relationships that I have.”
She was on board with everything he’d said right up until the end.
“What kind are those, exactly?”
“The simple variety. Where the rules are clear and no hearts get broken.” He took his time explaining it. To ward her off? Or so she knew what she was getting into? “It’s easier that way.”
Simple. Clear. Who did he think he was kidding? The stakes were already too high for them to deceive themselves about this unwise attraction anymore.
“I’ll keep that in mind. And thank you for the...er...decision-making power.” Her pulse slugged harder. Faster.
She would think about it, certainly. She wondered if she would think of anything else.
Slowly, she became aware of their surroundings again. Birds calling as they searched the cold ground for food. Tall grasses rustling in the cold wind. She breathed in the scents of pine and dead leaves, hoping to clear her head of the sensual fog enough for her to finish making notes about the ranch. She should be focusing on finding the perfect spot for a launch event to showcase Mesa Falls Ranch.
“Good.” Marcus scooped up his camera from the ground and returned it to his saddlebag. “Then we understand each other. Unless you decide you’re ready to move forward, we find a way to work together and navigate the middle ground.”
He drew Lily’s horse closer so she could mount for the rest of their ride. He even held out a hand to help her, but she waved him off, preferring to handle the animal on her own.
Besides, with the way she was feeling right now, the slightest touch could send her free-falling into a decision she would only regret.
Long minutes passed in silence as they turned north and followed a grassy lane worn smooth by truck tires. The paint she rode needed little guidance from her, content to follow wherever Marcus’s quarter horse led.
“We should be close to one of the owners’ houses,” Lily remarked once she’d regained her composure. “The map Regina gave me showed one of the homes backing up to Bitterroot National Forest.”
“Regina?” He glanced back at her over his shoulder. “Is that someone in the New York office?”
“No. Sorry, I forgot to tell you. When you left the spa yesterday, I met a local woman, Regina Flores, who came in looking for the ranch manager to ask about a job.” She rushed through the words since they brought to mind the off-the-charts kiss she’d shared with Marcus just before Regina arrived. “She seems to know the area well, and she had Weston Rivera’s house marked on the map. I think this must be his part of the property.”
Lily had wondered about that later when she reviewed the papers that Regina had given her. On an inside flap, there was an X marked on two spots along the ranch perimeter. One was labeled Rivera, a name Lily recalled from a document she’d read about the collective that owned the ranch. She assumed the other X related to another owner’s home, but information about the ranch owners had been decidedly difficult to unearth. Had Regina been trying to locate one of them to ask for work?
“It is.” Marcus slowed down so they could ride side by side and speak more easily now that the trail had widened. “And Weston Rivera is one of the few owners who spends much time on-site, so he would be the one most locals would connect with Mesa Falls.”
“I wonder how your father came to be so fond of the ranch. Montana is far from where he lived, and the landowners don’t seem inclined to invite many people here. It’s only been open for corporate functions for the past year.” She knew that Marcus’s father had been a teacher before taking over as CEO of Salazar Media, but not much else about him. It seemed unlikely that Alonzo Salazar would have been a guest on one of the business retreats here.
“Devon never told you?” Marcus frowned as he glanced her way. “Our dad taught at a boarding school on the West Coast. All the owners of Mesa Falls Ranch attended Dowdon. They were a few years ahead of me, though, so I don’t know them personally.”
“You went to Dowdon?” Lily had heard of it. It was an all-male institution, although perhaps that had changed in recent years. She knew it wasn’t easy to get in and that it was an Ivy League feeder school. She’d attended a girls’ academy with a similar legacy on the East Coast. “I went to Abigail Leonard, and I was stressed to the point of illness for four years straight. Although I liked the horseback riding.”
Marcus laughed. “No wonder you can hold your own on a horse. The riding was the high point of school for me, too.”
Her perspective of him shifted yet again. They were more similar than she’d realized. She imagined Marcus acing everything he touched at school. He was supremely talented and had the perfect blend of art and business sense. All the entry-level creatives in the New York office followed him online and looked up to him as a kind of digital media guru.
But behind that tremendous success and personal achievement, he would have had a normal childhood not tainted by the wealth that her grandparents controlled. The Salazar men had made their own fortunes with their company. Marcus would have attended the prestigious boarding school not because his parents paid the huge tuition, but because his father taught there.
“I can’t believe Devon never told me he went to Dowdon.” She’d met him on the board of a charity fund-raiser shortly after she’d finished college, and they’d bonded over their shared frustration with roping friends into buying tickets. When he’d heard her concerns about moving into the family financial business, he’d promptly offered her a job with him instead.
Their friendship had always been easy, and their work style was both compatible and effective. There had never been the slightest hint of the tumultuous attraction that she felt for his brother.
The man who preferred his relationships “simple.” She couldn’t deny the notion held some appeal. Obviously, Marcus had made it work with other women in the past. He must have come by his strategy through experience.
“Devon didn’t go to Dowdon.” Marcus pointed to a strange-looking brown-and-white bird in a dry field to the east. “That’s a sage grouse, by the way. Do you mind if we stop?”
He was already getting out his camera, and Lily distractedly recalled reading about conservationists’ efforts to attract the species to western sagebrush lands. Its return, she knew, was another indication of a recovering ecosystem.
“Of course.” Lily didn’t even need t
o rein in her horse. Penny stopped as soon as Evangeline pulled up. “But I’m surprised Devon wouldn’t have attended the school if your father taught there.”
Marcus remained on horseback as he raised the viewfinder to his eye and focused the camera. She followed the lens to where the odd-looking bird puffed its chest with a distinctive whooping whistle, its tail feathers fanned out and its neck ruff fluffed. The shot would be pretty with the sun lowering in the sky and casting a golden glow across the field.
“Don’t forget that by the time Devon was heading to high school, his mother and mine were in a feud of their own. Devon’s mom didn’t want Devon anywhere near me or our father.”
“How sad for you both.” She wondered if Devon’s mother had thought about how hard it might be on her son to alienate him from a half sibling. But then again, maybe she just thought she was protecting him.
Lily hadn’t known Alonzo Salazar well, since he’d hardly been around when he was CEO. But she knew he had a reputation. He was someone her grandfather would have diplomatically called “a charming rake.”
“Devon’s mother is from a wealthy family.” Marcus clicked away before he reset the focus. “They didn’t like my father to begin with. So when she left him, they rallied around her. Devon never lacked for opportunities.”
Lily weighed that with what she’d come to know of him. She would agree that he seemed accustomed to a level of luxury and comfort, even though he worked tirelessly for the company. She wanted to ask more about Alonzo Salazar and his connection to the owners of Mesa Falls Ranch, but just then Marcus set aside his camera, seemingly finished with his work.
“Speaking of my brother, have you heard from him today?” Marcus swung his dark gaze toward her. “I’ve messaged him twice with no response.”
The reminder of the secret she was supposed to keep tied her tongue. It wasn’t in her nature to lie. She felt her heart rate increase in direct proportion to her nervousness.
So she dodged the question altogether.
“I can’t imagine where he is,” she said honestly, since he could be flying over the Pacific, Alaska or a Hawaiian island and she wouldn’t know.
“No?” Marcus’s eyes narrowed briefly before he picked up Evangeline’s reins and urged her forward. “I’m thinking I’ll call the embassy myself and see if I can speed things along from this end. I’m not leaving Mesa Falls until I know what my father left for us, and that means I need Devon here.”
Lily felt a blush creep up her cheeks, hating deception in any form.
“Good idea,” she returned, knowing she couldn’t prevent him from finding out the truth if he really followed through on calling the US Embassy.
She just hoped he didn’t quiz her any more about his brother’s whereabouts, since the information wasn’t hers to share. And she sure hoped Devon wouldn’t make any more cryptic calls before he put in an appearance on the ranch.
* * *
That evening, Marcus paced around the second-floor patio of his guest cabin. Restless and edgy, he’d damn near worn a path in the wide cedar planks near the wrought iron rail where he could look out over a picturesque bend in a creek that met up with the Bitterroot River. He’d been making calls to no avail for the last two hours since he’d returned from his ride with Lily.
While Lily had a suite in the main guest lodge, Marcus’s quarters, a four-bedroom guest residence with its own heated pool and small stable, were more spacious and remote. Of all the amenities, it was the stable that Marcus most enjoyed. This way he could keep a horse close to make the best of his time in Montana.
Although, perhaps he should be more grateful for the physical distance from Lily Carrington. If they’d been sleeping under the same roof, things would have been even more complicated between them. As it was, he’d left her at the guest lodge after their afternoon ride and suggested they meet for dinner to finish discussing event ideas.
To his surprise, she’d agreed. Because she wanted to keep close tabs on Marcus? Or did her commitment to business simply outweigh the attraction they grappled with?
Or maybe there was a third reason—that she still underestimated the powerful draw between them despite all evidence to the contrary. He knew they’d been a single touch away from combustion both times they’d kissed. But there was a chance she didn’t realize how closely they walked that line. He’d meant it when he said what happened next was up to her. But she’d been every bit as invested—every bit as lost—in that last kiss they’d shared.
So he kept one eye out for Lily’s imminent arrival while the catering staff set up dinner downstairs in the glassed-in sunroom overlooking the heated pool. There was a lighted stone path around the backyard, connecting the outdoor spaces to the pool and sunroom where he could see the caterers putting the finishing touches on the space. A natural tree slab polished to a high shine served as a table under an elk-horn chandelier suspended from post beam rafters. The narrow bar held a champagne bucket with a vintage he’d chosen earlier. Everything was ready for his guest.
If only he could have gotten in touch with Devon, he might have enjoyed the evening more. He checked his phone for at least the fifth time, acknowledging that it was too late to contact the embassy in Mumbai. He’d already left another message for Devon and phoned a California congresswoman’s office to see if she could facilitate bringing his brother home.
For now, as the sun sank lower in the sky, there was nothing more he could do but wait for Lily. She’d resisted his offer to pick her up at the main lodge, reminding him the evening wasn’t a date.
He wondered if she would rethink that once she saw the candles flickering under glass globes. Or the fresh flowers that wreathed an archway leading into the sunroom. He’d stopped himself from hiring a live musician, however, preferring to have her all to himself for as much of the evening as possible. The waitstaff had to be there, but once the meal was over, he intended to send them on their way. Then Marcus and Lily would be alone.
Tonight, if she chose to pick up where they’d left off with the afternoon kiss, there would be nothing standing in their way.
Checking his watch, he went inside the master suite to drop his phone on the nightstand and retrieve a gray tie from the valet stand. He didn’t want to be too formal, because then Lily would be aware of the lengths he’d gone to for the evening. He wrapped and folded the silk into place as he headed down the stairs in a black suit and white shirt. He glanced in the mirror at the base of the stairs long enough to straighten the knot, then headed outdoors by the pool for a breath of fresh air. Even out here, classical music played over the sound system. No soothing Mozart or Brahms tonight. He’d opted for a playlist heavy on Bach, the layered melodies as complex as the woman he waited for.
“Marcus.” Her voice called to him, seemingly out of nowhere.
Swiveling around to find her, he scanned the pool area, confused as to how she could have arrived without him hearing her, or seeing her, for that matter. He’d been watching the gravel lane from his upstairs patio.
“Over here,” she called again, and this time he realized she was at the opposite end of the pool area, on the far side of the cabin’s property, away from the road.
She stood at the edge of the field in boots and a long rust-colored coat over a yellow dress belted at her narrow waist. Her dark hair was piled on her head and pinned at haphazard angles, a soft coil with loose strands that teased her chin and her collarbone.
Something about her exposed neck sent a stab of hunger through him that was almost painful. He dragged in a breath of the cool air and headed toward her.
“I’m sorry I didn’t hear you arrive. Did you park out front?”
“I walked.” Standing in the high grass, she lifted her hem slightly to kick out one foot, revealing her turquoise-colored cowboy boots. “It wasn’t that far.”
“You walked.” He stopped just short of her, resisting th
e urge to touch her, taste her. He wanted to skip dinner and feast on her instead. “That must be at least two miles.”
“Nearly three.” She shrugged. “I was glad for the time to air out my head.” She glanced up at him and away again quickly. “Plus, I wanted to think through event ideas for the ranch.”
“I would have been happy to pick you up. Come have a drink.” He couldn’t resist touching her, guiding her forward with his palm on the small of her back, but only for a moment. “The appetizer course is almost ready.”
She had only barely stepped onto the smooth stone path that wound around the pool when she stopped again.
“Oh, Marcus. This is beautiful.” Her gaze took in the sunroom, glowing with warm light as dusk began to turn the sky purple. “Are those canna lilies around the sunroom?”
“I might be able to identify a sage grouse across a field, but I draw the line at discerning one flower from another.” He took her arm and tucked it in his. “Let’s go take a closer look.”
He heard her quick intake of breath, which made him think of more intimate encounters. He wanted to hear that soft gasp again tonight, under far different circumstances. But he tamped down that thought—and a whole lot of others—and tried to simply enjoy the feel of her forearm on his, the delicate fragrance of her soap and shampoo.
“You didn’t have to go to all this trouble for dinner.” She admired the table setting through the clear glass walls before leaning closer to the flowers that made a hedge between the pool and sunroom. “Although, it all looks so beautiful, I can’t help but enjoy the effort.”
“Good. That’s reason enough to spend a little extra time on a meal.” He opened the sunroom door for her and took her coat, inhaling her rose scent as he revealed her bare arms beneath tiny cap sleeves of yellow lace. Hanging the coat on a wrought iron rack, he led her to the table and withdrew a chair, the wooden legs gliding smoothly along the floor.
“This doesn’t feel like a business meal.” A line of worry snaked between her brows.