Czytaj książkę: «The Rebel»

One

Marcus Salazar would have enjoyed the afternoon trail ride a whole lot more if he’d left his cell phone back at the ranch.

He’d set the device to vibrate after ignoring two calls from the office, but he still found himself checking it. He couldn’t help it. He’d come to Mesa Falls Ranch, a Western-style luxury corporate retreat here in Montana, for the most important business meeting of his life: to hammer out a deal with his half brother, Devon, that would finally give Marcus full control of Salazar Media. Their negotiations couldn’t start soon enough to suit him.

When his phone began buzzing again, he plucked it from the breast pocket of his canvas jacket and saw that it was Devon calling. Maybe his brother had finally arrived. Marcus reminded himself to be civil and start things on a positive note. He and Devon might have opposing views on the future of Salazar Media—and just about everything else—but there was no need to revisit old ground this week. He’d simply discover how to buy out Devon’s investment and they could sever ties at last. He swiped the screen to answer the call.

“I can meet you in the great room in twenty minutes,” Marcus said without preamble, grateful for the cooperative Appaloosa who didn’t seem to mind his busy hands. He tried to keep a level grip on the reins with one hand while he held the phone in the other, remembering basic horsemanship from his prep school days. “I took one of the horses out while I waited for you, but we’re almost back to the main lodge now.”

Squinting into the late-afternoon November sunlight, Marcus could see the pine-covered ridge that sheltered the stables on the six-thousand-acre ranch. The acreage was situated close to the Bitterroot River, a place his father, Alonzo Salazar, had visited often, and he’d talked of bringing Marcus and Devon there for a trip on several occasions.

When they’d been kids, there’d been bad blood between their mothers that had made the trip too difficult to orchestrate. And later there’d been plenty of enmity between the men themselves. Now it was too late. Marcus and Devon had said their final goodbyes to Alonzo Salazar last summer after a battle with pancreatic cancer that was over far too quickly. Their father was gone, and he’d been the only reason the brothers had been civil to each other outside the family business.

They probably could have dissolved the rest of their ties without coming here, but they were fulfilling a deathbed promise to their father to meet at the ranch before they went their separate ways. For reasons Marcus still didn’t understand, their dad had been determined to get Marcus and Devon to this corner of western Montana.

“I’m not in town yet, unfortunately.” Devon’s voice competed with a lot of background noise. An announcement over a loudspeaker. The hum of other voices. “I’m still in the airport in Mumbai.”

“Mumbai?” Marcus leaned back in the saddle, stopping the horse on the trail so he could give the call his full attention. “As in the other side of the globe?”

Frustration simmered in his veins. His brother wouldn’t arrive for at least another day.

“I would have called sooner, but my phone and passport were both stolen and I was…detained by customs.” His brother sounded pissed. And exhausted.

“Did you recover the phone?” Confused, Marcus checked the caller ID and saw his brother’s face, only to realize Devon had contacted him through a social media messaging service, not a regular call.

“No. I bought a new one at an airport kiosk.” Devon’s voice rasped like a man who’d been talking for hours. “I’ve got a message in to the embassy to get some help returning to the States, but in the meantime, I—” there was interference on the call, as if Devon was walking through a wind tunnel “—should be in Montana soon.”

“I missed that.” Marcus nudged the Appaloosa’s flanks, wondering if the cell signal was weak in this heavily wooded section of the trail. The mare started forward again. “I just finalized the deal to bring on Mesa Falls Ranch as a client.” He’d been working on that angle with the ranch owners ever since he’d realized the trip here was inevitable, and he’d received a verbal agreement from one of them earlier in the day. “I can take an extra day to work on their account personally, but if you’re not here in forty-eight hours, I’m flying back to Los Angeles.”

Marcus handled the West Coast office. Devon was his copresident in New York. Only their father had outranked them, and he’d been a mostly silent figurehead CEO.

“There’s no need. I—” Devon’s words faded as the connection cut out again “—as an emissary. She can speak for me—”

A loud crackling noise hissed through the device.

“Who?” Marcus strained to hear what his brother was saying, the tinny voice over a loudspeaker drowning out some of Devon’s words and the poor call quality muting even more. “Is someone coming to the ranch for you?”

“—will message you. Sorry about this.”

The connection cut out completely.

Marcus glared down at his phone to see Devon’s social media photo staring back at him. How could Devon have waited until the last minute to get on a flight to Montana? Even on the company jet—and he didn’t have it in Mumbai—the trip would have been eighteen hours, give or take.

Although, having been detained in customs overseas himself, Marcus knew it wasn’t a picnic. Besides, maybe Devon’s guilt over not making their meeting would play into Marcus’s hands in helping him win control of Salazar Media for good. The company had been his brainchild, after all. His father and brother had only signed on for financial support, with their father assuming the CEO position simply because he’d been effective in brokering an accord between his warring copresident sons. With their father’s death, there was a power vacuum that Marcus planned to fill. As the creative founder, Marcus deserved the CEO role, and he planned to have it or he’d leave the company that he’d started.

Jamming the phone in his breast pocket, he urged his mount faster, racing hard toward the main lodge on Mesa Falls Ranch. The retreat had undeniable appeal. The fact that the mountains and the wide-open spaces could distract him from his frustration for even a moment was a testament to the place’s beauty. A consortium of owners—six in all—had maintained the lands and shared the cattle for the last eight years, with each of them having a home on the acreage. But the group had decided to open the land to guests a year ago, in an effort to fund their move to sustainable ranching. Sensing a business opportunity for Salazar Media, Marcus had opened a dialogue with the group, hoping to secure their account. The owners had made a verbal commitment to six months’ worth of social media advertising with Salazar, with an option for extending the contract if they were pleased. Marcus planned to set up a few appointments with key members of the ranching staff—to make his presence felt here—and then head back to LA once the finalized contracts were signed.

His conscience would be clear that he’d at least tried to meet Devon at the retreat. If Devon couldn’t bother showing up, that was on him.

As Marcus reined in behind the stables, he could see a shiny black Escalade pull up to the huge main lodge. A liveried driver hopped out and jogged around to the back, where tinted windows prevented Marcus from seeing inside. His brother’s words floated back to his brain—something about an emissary.

Could Devon have sent someone to the ranch in his place? It galled him to think his brother had managed to arrange for a replacement, because he would have had to make the arrangements hours ago. Clearly, phoning his own brother to let him know he was delayed hadn’t been his first priority.

He slid down to the ground and handed over the Appaloosa’s reins to a waiting stable hand. He thanked the guy and kept his eye on the Escalade as the back door opened and a decidedly feminine leg appeared.

A black high heeled boot. A slender calf. A sliver of gray pin-striped skirt.

She can speak for me…

The words blasted back into his mind as the only woman who was ever allowed to speak for Devon Salazar stepped fully into view.

Lily Carrington stood tall on the tarmac in a black overcoat left unbelted over her pale gray suit and lavender-colored blouse. A tiny patent-leather handbag dangled off her arm. She was the most perfectly proper woman Marcus had ever met. Never a silky dark hair out of place. Efficient. Articulate. Clients praised her up one side and down the other. She’d been Devon’s right hand in the business during the crazy years that it had doubled, then tripled in size, working her way up to the COO position, effectively the number two person in the New York office.

She was the antithesis of everything Marcus normally liked in a woman, cool and composed when he usually went for passionate, artsy types. Yet for some irritating reason, he’d always fought a fierce attraction to Lily.

Lucky for him, she was engaged to another man and safely off-limits.

Not so lucky for him, she still roused a surge of lust just standing in the driveway looking like a movie star in sunglasses that covered half her face.

“Marcus.” She gave a polite smile as she caught sight of him, edging past her driver to head toward him. “What an impressive property for a retreat.” Tipping up her sunglasses, she gestured toward the massive lodge-style building newly constructed as guest quarters. Her gaze swept over the pristine stables, the welcome center and attached paddock, and the rolling hills that turned into mountain vistas behind it. “It’s breathtaking.”

He found the view of her far preferable to the autumn landscape but kept that opinion on lockdown. He was already calculating how fast he could leave town without compromising his bargaining position with Devon. He’d done things he wasn’t proud of in his life, but indulging an attraction to a woman wearing another man’s ring was a line he wouldn’t cross.

“It should photograph well,” he acknowledged, turning his attention to the views instead of Lily’s pliable mouth or pale blue eyes. “Since Devon couldn’t bother to show, maybe we can spend our time here setting up the ranch account and gathering some on-the-ground intel the team can use to fine-tune the marketing approach. I’ll text you an agenda so we can both get back home as soon as possible.”

She was quiet for a long moment. For so long, in fact, he needed to turn and look at her again for a hint of what she was thinking.

“We could do that,” she admitted slowly, staring at him with newly wary eyes. “Or we could start a dialogue about how to fill the CEO position, since that was the original intent of this meeting. Maybe you and I can come up with some workable options for the future of Salazar Media—”

“That meeting was planned for Devon and me. Not you.” He wondered where she saw herself in this negotiation for power at Salazar Media. Was she hoping to carve out a better position for herself? Oust Marcus completely and take over the West Coast office?

If not for the fact that the Salazar brothers were on opposite coasts, the business might have tanked years ago. But they’d made it this far by operating as independently as possible from each other in New York and Los Angeles.

“I have a stake in the outcome, too,” she reminded him coolly. “And now that your father isn’t around to negotiate your differences, I hoped maybe I could facilitate a conversation about the future.”

“Did my brother ask you to talk me into rolling over on this?” He realized his thwarted sexual tension was making him speak more sharply than he might have otherwise. “Did he think you had a better shot at enticing me into doing what you want?”

Marcus had compromised his vision for the company too many times over the years, playing it safe while good opportunities passed them by because Devon had a different approach.

“Of course not,” she replied adamantly, shaking her head. “However, I am familiar with some of the frustration on both sides—”

“No, Lily,” he said, cutting her off, unwilling to walk down that conversational path with her. “You can’t possibly know the level of my frustration.”

Their gazes met and held for a long moment while he let those words sink in so she could chew on them for awhile. He guessed the moment when she suspected his underlying meaning. There was a soft intake of breath. An almost silent rush of her surprise before she gave a slow blink.

Had she truly been unaware of the attraction?

Not that it mattered either way. He had enough grievances involving his brother. He wasn’t going to try to wade through the haze of lust that Lily conjured for him. So instead, he tipped the driver who had delivered her to the ranch, sending the car on its way. When he turned back to Salazar Media’s COO, she seemed to have plastered a new mask of indifference on her lovely face.

“In that case, I’ll wait to hear from you when you’re ready to meet.” She held her small purse in front of her now, which was a laughable defense. There could be a whole conference table full of people between them and he’d still feel the tug of desire.

Nodding, he turned on his heel to retrieve his horse, grateful as hell that he’d chosen to stay in a guesthouse separate from the ranch’s main lodge.

The more distance between him and Lily Carrington, the better. The woman was a serious threat to his concentration when the future of his company was at stake.

What had happened back there with Marcus?

Lily asked herself the question again as she sank deeper into the claw-foot tub in the bathroom of her guest suite, indulging in a post-travel soak that she hoped would clear her head. The suite was beautiful, with hardwood floors and reclaimed barn beams in a nod to the Western setting, but incorporating plenty of contemporary touches like the glass-encased tile shower next to the vintage tub. She’d clicked on the fire in the sleek hearth as soon as she’d arrived, even though it wasn’t all that cold outside. She wanted the whole mountain experience.

Lily brushed a hand through the bubbly, rose-scented water, upset that she couldn’t fully savor the beauty of Montana and the unexpected trip because suddenly there was something odd between her and Marcus Salazar.

Something hot and unexpected.

Closing her eyes as she breathed in the steam-drenched air, Lily thought back to those moments after she’d arrived in front of the huge lodge. She’d been glad to see Marcus, if a little wary. She knew about the long-standing estrangement between the half brothers, although she’d never fully understood it. If they disliked each other so much, why had they launched a joint business with the help of their father? Then again, their talents went well together. Marcus was the creative genius with expertise in the digital media world, while Devon had the business savvy that kept the company in the black.

Devon had been her friend as well as her direct supervisor for five years, but he’d never shared much about his personal life. And Marcus remained a mystery even though he ran the West Coast branch of the company.

Since she’d interacted very little with Marcus directly, she’d been cautiously optimistic when Devon had asked her to take his place at this meeting. She’d wondered—naively, perhaps—if she’d be able to generate a dialogue between the Salazar men now that their father was gone and the future of the company remained up in the air. The business was still privately held, jointly owned by the Salazar brothers, so there was no board of directors to please or strict timeline to fill the CEO slot. Yet as months had dragged on in stalemate, some of their clients were getting frustrated at the lack of a single decision maker in the company. The struggle for power between Devon and Marcus could hurt the whole company. The business needed strong, united leadership.

But whatever had happened in the driveway at her arrival was going to hamper her efforts to make that happen. Marcus had inspired something she had no business feeling as an engaged woman. His dark hair and even darker eyes were so unlike his brother’s. His tall, athletic build…

Swallowing, she halted her thoughts about his body, not letting herself linger on that path.

Wrenching her eyes open, she lifted her left hand from the bathwater to stare at the heavy Asscher-cut diamond on her ring finger, a family heirloom Eliot Winthrop had given her two years ago when he proposed. The five-carat piece was flawless, the facets catching the light from the bathroom sconces.

Until recently, she hadn’t really questioned the long engagement, since they were both busy building their careers—he with his family’s wealth management firm and she with Salazar Media. They’d been childhood friends; their families had both built their fortunes in the financial world and had always been close because of it. Eliot had also made her feel like less of an outsider after the scandal of her birth. Lily’s single mother had refused to tell her parents who the father was and ultimately had given up responsibility for her child altogether, leaving Lily with her grandparents when she was four years old. As a result, Lily had never really felt like she belonged in the opulent Newport world she grew up in.

Later, she and Eliot were high school sweethearts. When he’d gone to college, she’d assumed they’d both move on. But she’d been disappointed by the drunken frat boy atmosphere even at her high-tier school, so when Eliot had proposed, she’d jumped at the chance, knowing they would make a good team. Not necessarily a romance to set the world on fire, but a solid partnership grown in mutual understanding.

They’d talked about uniting their families’ respective businesses with a merger once they wed. She’d always taken strength from their friendship, certain it would grow into the kind of love her grandparents shared. But right now, with the memories of Marcus’s eyes on her stirring an unexpected heat, Lily wondered why she’d never felt that kind of pull with Eliot.

Drying her hands, she reached alongside the tub to retrieve her cell phone. Once she called her fiancé, she would put the incident with Marcus out of her mind. Hearing Eliot’s voice would remind her why they were right together—even if they still hadn’t set a date for the wedding.

Lily punched the heart icon on her phone—the image she’d tagged him with in her contacts—but the call went straight to voice mail. Somehow, hearing his prerecorded message didn’t provide the same reassurance as speaking to him personally. If anything, it only served to remind her of how often she checked in without getting ahold of him. Was that normal for a couple in love?

After leaving him a message, she ended the call and tried to put the worries out of her mind, settling the phone on the pile of towels near the tub. Whatever had happened with Marcus was surely a fluke. A fleeting feminine interest she wouldn’t dream of acting on.

Her mother had been the kind of woman who could be tempted into relationships based on physical attraction, a trait that had made Maggie Carrington choose a lover over her own daughter. Lily knew better than to count on something as temporary as lust. Chemistry was a smoke screen that only confused people, complicating the real factors that needed to be considered for a long-lasting relationship. Like shared values and goals. Mutual respect and affection.

Satisfied she could salvage this trip and put that moment with Marcus behind her, Lily stepped out of the tub and dried herself with one of the fluffy bath sheets, her body steaming with the scent of roses. When Marcus texted her with an agenda, she would be ready to work. Clearly, he wanted to keep things professional and focused on business as much as she did.

No doubt he would keep those long, sizzling looks to himself for the remainder of their time together in Montana. And if a tiny piece of her still craved the way that moment had made her belly flip, she would simply channel it where it belonged—into her relationship with her fiancé.

Professional armor in place the next day, Lily strode through the foyer of the main lodge on her way to meet with Marcus. The building where she was staying was strangely quiet since the property wasn’t open for a retreat this week. She was the only guest that she was aware of, yet there must be maids at work, since she’d had turndown service the night before when she went out for an evening walk in the moonlight. She’d also discovered on her walk that the stables were staffed and she was welcome to ride anytime.

She was curious to see some of the ranching operation itself. The lodge and welcome center looked like a luxe mountain resort, but she’d read up on Mesa Falls Ranch and knew they’d been successful raising cattle and sheep.

She stepped into the great room, where the tile floors were softened with colorful Aztec rugs, the reds and burnt oranges repeated in the throw pillows and framed prints on the natural log walls. A small bar held top-shelf liquors under the watchful eye of a stuffed American bison standing near the pool table. Bar stools padded in black-and-white cowhide were all empty save for the one where Marcus was seated.

She allowed her eyes to roam over him for a moment before he saw her. His dark hair was a shade deeper brown than his older brother’s, and he wore it longer, too. Dressed in a blue button-down, he typed fast on his tablet keyboard, a pair of earbuds tuning out the world while he worked. When he turned his brown eyes toward her, she steeled herself for whatever it was that had happened between them yesterday. But the thing that had sparked last time was shuttered now.

Tapping off his screen, Marcus withdrew the earbuds and shoved them in the pocket of his suit jacket resting on the back of the bar stool.

“I didn’t expect you so soon.” He stood and gestured to the bar.

“I’m here to work,” she reminded him, stopping next to a wooden game table and keeping her distance.

“Here to work, or here to gather information for Devon?”

“Any information I gather would benefit you both, since I work for Salazar Media and not exclusively for your brother.” She didn’t enjoy playing word games with him, but she planned to defend herself and her position. Her job was too important to her to get on the wrong side of a man who still owned half of the company.

“Right.” He acknowledged her point with a nod. “But you got your start in the business by being Devon’s right hand. I don’t think that instinct to look out for him is just going to disappear.”

Impatience and indignation squared her shoulders.

“Do you want to work or question my motives?” She set her laptop bag on the game table, unwilling to be cowed. “Just so I’m clear.”

Marcus took a step closer. “I prefer to work, but I don’t think I can relax enough to do that until I understand why Devon would send you to a meeting slated to determine future control of the company.”

His nearness brought trouble with it. She could see the bristled shadow along his jaw. Read the mistrust in his dark eyes. Feel a charge in the air that made her skin tighten. Lily drew a deep breath to set him straight, but she caught the scent of his aftershave, spicy and male.

“Devon wants to be here himself. You know that.” She scavenged for the right words that would make things go back to the way they used to be between them. “But after he found out his passport had been stolen, he asked me to be on-site in case you need help closing the deal with Mesa Falls.”

Her position allowed her to oversee the day-to-day operations in New York but gave her the flexibility to work directly with clients, as well. She’d learned two weeks ago that Marcus had approached Mesa Falls Ranch as a potential client, because he’d requested proposal material from her office. She’d researched the place immediately, liking to stay up-to-date on all their current and potential accounts. So she’d jumped at the chance to visit the ranch herself and escape her grandparents’ growing pressure to set a wedding date.

His eyebrows shot up. “In case I—” he tapped his chest “—need help sealing the deal? I got confirmation we won the account before you even arrived on the property.”

She suppressed a sigh of frustration. Men and their egos. She hesitated, unsure how much to share and wary of stepping on his toes again. “Devon didn’t know the deal was sealed at the time he called me. And quite honestly, he was afraid you would be on the first plane back to Los Angeles unless he showed you some kind of good-faith effort.”

“You’re the good-faith effort?” His voice hummed along her senses, suggesting things at odds with his surly words.

She restrained the urge to lick suddenly dry lips, confused by whatever seemed to be happening between them. “Like it or not, yes.”

He stood there, entirely too close to her. Assessing. Then his gaze shuttered, his expression revealing nothing.

“Unfortunately for both of us, Lily, I work more effectively on my own,” he informed her quietly. Then he turned and retrieved his tablet. “I suggest we divide and conquer the tasks for setting up Mesa Falls Ranch as a new account and leave it at that.”