The Rebel. Joanne Rock
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“I’m not a spy,” she retorted, her blue eyes taking on a darker hue now that she was upset. “We’ve been over this. When I filled in for Devon, I foolishly hoped I could help the two of you reconcile and maybe save the company in the process.”
“If you represent his interests and not mine, how are you a good choice to negotiate a reconciliation? And either way, that’s not happening.” Marcus was taking the company, end of story. He moved around to the driver’s side of the utility vehicle and slid into the seat. “Why don’t you get in touch with Devon and ask him to send you back to New York?”
She hesitated then, after a moment, moved toward the passenger seat and sat down. It was a good thing the vehicle had no doors, excusing Marcus from ushering her in and out in a gentlemanly fashion, because her nearness got under his skin.
Whenever she moved, that damn diamond ring on her finger refracted light beams into his eyes like a weapon of deflection.
“I asked him that already.” She reached down to one side of the seat and retrieved the safety belt, tugging it around her narrow waist. “He refused.” When the latch clicked, she glanced up at him, her blue gaze sliding right past his defenses. “So it looks like you’re stuck with me.”
Lily was grateful Marcus didn’t try to talk to her on the ride home.
Sulking about her job felt like the right thing to do on this day when nothing had gone right. Her fiancé had awoken her with a text message at three in the morning to let her know that his obligations to the family business in the UK were going to continue into spring, so unless she wanted to come to London for the holidays, they wouldn’t be seeing each other anytime soon. Another time, she might not have been so upset, since she had a lot of new work obligations herself, but in light of how hard this trip was testing her, the blasé tone of Eliot’s message had filled her with doubts. Wouldn’t he miss her? Did he have any plans to ever discuss the wedding date her grandparents kept pushing her for?
Of course, when she fell back asleep, she had wildly inappropriate dreams about Marcus, which filled her with guilt and left her exhausted. Then there had been the morning meeting Marcus had skipped to take a private tour of the ranch, and her message exchange with Devon, who had told her in no uncertain terms he needed her in Montana this week.
Not to spy, obviously. But like his father, Marcus could be a bit of a wild card. He was a charismatic leader, and she guessed that Devon worried he might try to start his own company and take “his” clients with him. Lily guessed that, aside from helping Marcus set up the new account, she was also on-site to keep a dialogue open between the Salazar men. To remind Marcus that the branches of the company had worked together effectively in the past, and could do so again.
After indulging her frustrated thoughts for ten minutes, Lily forced herself back to the present, only to realize that Marcus wasn’t heading back to the main lodge. The scenery around them had changed, going from sweeping vistas to dense fir trees. The earthy scent of damp leaves and pine needles filled the air as small brush snapped under the vehicle tires.
“Where are we?” She sat straighter in her seat, trying to see through the network of branches.
She’d seen hints of the ranch pastures earlier on her ride with Coop, but this looked very different.
“We should see the Bitterroot River soon.” Even as he said it, the vehicle broke into a clearing, and a wide expanse of water came into view. “You looked like you needed a breather as much as I did.”
“I—” She didn’t know how to respond to that. They were the first words she could remember him speaking to her on this trip that weren’t confrontational. “Thank you.”
He braked to a stop close to the river’s edge, along a narrow strip of rocky beach. The water glittered in the sunlight like a jeweled ribbon winding through the land.
“I could use a few shots of this.” He reached alongside her leg, his brief touch startling her for a second before she realized he was retrieving the camera bag at her feet. “Do you mind spending a few minutes here?”
His attention was fixed on his camera, where he turned dials and adjusted settings. She watched him for a moment, intrigued. She tried not to think about the fact that her knee still tingled from the barest contact with his knuckles. She’d never thought of Marcus in that way until yesterday, and now she wasn’t sure how to ignore the attraction that lurked too close to the surface. Something strange had happened between them yesterday. Something more than just Marcus accusing her of spying for his brother.
“Sure.” She told herself to go for a walk along the water’s edge. Anything to put physical distance between them. But she couldn’t seem to stop watching him as he lined up a shot of the river partly framed by a wavy tree branch. She could see the whole image on the screen that took up most of the camera’s back. “That’s a great shot. You have a really good eye for composition.”
His hands stilled on the camera for a moment. Then he turned his gaze her way.
“My brother once informed me that I have a talent for art because I only have to please myself, whereas he has the better disposition for business because he cares what other people think.” He went back to work on his camera, shifting a few dials to take the same picture with different settings.
She knew Devon could be cold. Calculating, even. But she’d always appreciated his levelheaded practicality. She was wired the same way.
“Do you think there’s any merit to that idea?” Lily knew she’d never have any hope of helping these two warring siblings reconcile their interests unless she understood Marcus better. She told herself that’s why she wanted to know.
Overhead, a bird wheeled in circles before diving into the water with a splash. The air was cold today, but the sky was a perfect, unspoiled blue in every direction.
“I agree Devon is a people pleaser, and I’m not. That doesn’t necessarily mean he possesses a better head for business.” He clicked the shutter a few times, capturing new images of the water before refocusing on another bird searching for a meal.
It was interesting to watch him work. Salazar Media had its roots in the digital world, with the brothers on the forefront of engaging online audiences in constantly changing ways.
“Devon excels at pitching our services to big business. You drive the creative side.” She couldn’t understand why he didn’t see that the two of them needed each other. “That gives the company balance.”
“But I’m not interested in balance.” He shot images in fast succession as the bird dived to the water. “I don’t care about generating the biggest possible bottom line. I care about challenging myself and finding new outlets that interest me. That’s what keeps art vibrant. That’s what puts our business on the cutting edge.”
Setting the camera on the seat between them, he turned toward her, giving her his undivided attention.
“But the business shouldn’t be all about