offering.
But he’d effectively called her bluff. And bottom line, she couldn’t afford to turn him down. Smoothing a nonexistent wrinkle from her velvet-and-satin gown, she told herself it was a welcome opportunity. A chance to learn insider details about Alonzo Salazar’s life and legacy.
“I’ve heard more gracious invitations,” she said finally. “But I’m hardly in a position to be choosy.”
He gave a satisfied nod.
“Excellent. Are you staying in the lodge? I’ll send someone over to retrieve your things.” Gage pulled his own phone from his pocket and began tapping out a message.
“Right now?” She thought about what her hotel room looked like, her meager possessions offering a far more realistic portrait of her desperate finances than the beautiful gown she’d finagled from a local vendor for the event at almost no cost to her.
“I’m sure you’re in a hurry to begin pursuing your story.” He pocketed the device again. “Didn’t you tell me your followers deserve answers?”
She began to see how neatly he’d maneuvered her into doing what he wanted. But what were his real motives? “I hope that doesn’t mean I’ve effectively become your prisoner in this remote home.”
“An intriguing idea, but no.” The curve of his lips didn’t seem quite like a smile. Wolfish anticipation, maybe. “You can, of course, come and go as you please. Although running from me at first opportunity hardly seems like the action of a woman who’s indifferent.” A note of challenge hung in his voice.
“I only meant that I’d like to retrieve my own things from the lodge.” She wasn’t sure how much of her life she could hide from Gage if he decided he wanted answers of his own. But she definitely didn’t want him to know the extent of her financial hardship.
“And miss the rest of the party you took pains to crash?” He shook his head and moved closer to her. “The evening has only just begun. Enjoy yourself here, and your bags will be in your suite by the time you’re ready to retire for the night.”
He extended his arm to her, as if he were courting her and not taunting her. Tempting her. Teasing her.
He’d said he didn’t believe that she was indifferent to him, and clearly, he still didn’t.
She suspected Gage would do everything in his power to prove her a liar on that count. But then, given how quickly he’d believed the worst of her, what was one more black mark against her name?
She’d wheedled her way into his home. Now it was up to her to make the most of the opportunity. So she slid her hand around his forearm, wordlessly accepting his invitation.
His dark eyes met hers and she felt that crackle of electricity between them again. She flicked her gaze away, her darting glance landing on her smartphone.
“My camera—” she began.
“—is off-limits for the rest of the party.” He laid a hand over hers where it rested on his arm. “It will be safe here when you return to your suite tonight.”
Confused, she peered around the office.
“My suite?”
“This will be your sitting area while you’re staying with me. Your bedroom is through there.” He pointed to double doors behind the massive desk.
“I see you have plenty of room for me,” she noted drily. She’d understood that Gage had achieved new heights of wealth in recent years, but seeing the way he lived firsthand was still eye-opening.
“I do, indeed.” He squeezed her hand lightly before letting go and leading her out of the suite and back toward the party. “You’ll hardly know we’re sharing the same roof again.”
Based on the way her pulse quickened when he was near, she seriously doubted it.
Later that evening, Elena went into the kitchen and helped herself to a plate of fruit before declaring the night a total bust. Becoming an invited guest at Gage’s soiree tonight had done little to help Elena’s story.
Of course, the fact that Gage had attached himself to her for most of the party surely had something to do with it. Sighing with frustration, she drizzled a yogurt dip over her pile of strawberries and pineapple slices. No matter what he said to the contrary, he planned to be her watchdog more than her host.
Which would be easier to deal with, frankly, if his nearness didn’t affect her so much. As it stood, her thoughts scattered like dandelion fluff on a spring breeze whenever he was close.
She scooped up some raspberries from a chilled dish on one of the kitchen islands and dumped them on her china plate next to a few wedges of cheese and some baguette slices. She’d given up searching the party for April Stephens, the woman she’d met at their shared dress fitting earlier in the day. April had seemed like a promising lead for more information about the Mesa Falls Ranch owners since she, too, was in Montana to investigate the finances of Alonzo Salazar.
But by all accounts, the woman had left the party alone shortly after Gage had pulled Elena aside to speak to her. As for the other ranch owners, she’d spotted Weston Rivera drinking by himself in a back den, and his brother, Miles, in a heated conversation with Desmond Pierce out by the pool in the backyard. But they’d both stopped talking as soon as she’d stepped outside, making it impossible for her to overhear anything.
And Gage, the only other owner on-site tonight, was never far from Elena’s side. Even now, he entered the kitchen moments behind her, balancing a trio of half-empty champagne flutes in one hand.
With his bow tie long gone, he looked deliciously disheveled. The top button of his tuxedo shirt was undone, and his five o’clock shadow had been darkening steadily as the evening wore on. She noticed that other women’s eyes followed him when he walked past. It provided some small comfort that she wasn’t the only person captivated by his dark good looks and athletic physique.
But she knew better than to get involved. Again.
“The catering staff not only serves the food, they provide cleanup afterward,” she noted, nodding to his handful of crystal stemware. “That’s what you pay them for.”
“Thank you, Elena, for the entertaining tips. But when one is trapped in a room where the conversation has turned to which lipstick is the longest-wearing, the urge to escape by any means becomes overwhelming.” Setting the glasses in the sink, he joined her at the kitchen island. “May I join you?”
He was already helping himself to half a baguette, not bothering with a plate. She hid a smile. His father might have poured a lot of time and money into cultivating an heir with posh manners and social savvy, but Gage had resisted at least some of the efforts to tame him.
“Only if we can talk about something besides makeup.” She found a napkin and retrieved her glass of water to bring with her. “I’ve had all the party small talk I can bear, too.”
It frustrated her that she’d learned so little about the Mesa Falls Ranch owners or Alonzo Salazar
