The Rival. Joanne Rock

       One

      As she worked in the tack room at Mesa Falls Ranch, Regina Flores caught sight of her reflection in a shiny halter plate bearing one of the horse’s names. Even six months after her makeover, it still surprised her sometimes to see another woman’s face staring back at her.

      Bypassing the fancy dress tack, Regina chose an everyday bridle and rushed back to the stable to finish saddling a second mount. She’d wheedled her way onto the ranch staff as a trail guide the week before and still hadn’t found an opportunity to get close to Devon Salazar, whose company was overseeing the social media marketing and launch event for the ranch’s rebranding as a private corporate retreat. Getting close to Devon was the only reason she’d taken the job. And she never could have accomplished that if she’d borne any resemblance to her old self—Georgiana Fuentes.

      Tightening the saddle girth on the second horse, Regina finished tacking up quickly before unhooking the crossties. She brought both horses through the paddock area before mounting her own and leading the second. She’d heard Devon had a meeting coming up at the main lodge and there was a chance she could talk him into riding there with her. But only if she hurried.

      She nudged the bay mustang faster until the main buildings were out of sight. The ranch owners had given Devon a two-bedroom cabin right on the Bitterroot River, a more remote property with beautiful views and a multilevel deck to take in the sights. She’d made careful notes about all the ranch’s buildings in order to land the trail guide job. Regina had sacrificed everything to be here now—for this chance to learn the truth about the Salazar heirs.

      How much did Devon Salazar know about the book his dead father had penned under a pseudonym eight years ago? A tell-all that had caused life as she’d known it to implode? She’d overheard him deny all knowledge of it to his brother in a conversation last week, but she’d also learned the siblings didn’t trust each other, so she didn’t put much stock in what he’d told Marcus.

      Her private investigator had only recently discovered the identity of the author—two months after Alonzo Salazar’s death—so she’d had to transfer her need for revenge from the father to the sons. Because she didn’t believe for a second that they hadn’t benefited from their father’s decision to unmask her family’s secrets for financial gain.

      A light snow began to fall as she guided the horses off the trail to a shortcut that would bring her to Devon’s cabin faster.

      She should be thankful she bore no resemblance to the woman she used to be. If she’d still looked anything like sweet, innocent Georgiana Fuentes, Devon might have recognized her as one of the thinly disguised real-life characters in his dad’s supposed work of “fiction.” Or, more accurately, from the endless images of her in the press after a Hollywood gossip columnist had linked the novel’s characters to their real-life counterparts.

      But stress had stolen thirty pounds from her frame. Relentless workouts in an effort to excise her anger had sculpted a much different body from the soft curves of her teenage self. Even worse, being hounded by the tabloids for her story had caused a car accident three years ago that required enough facial reconstruction to alter her features. Finally, to complete the transformation, six months ago, she’d hacked off her long blond waves to just above her shoulders and dyed the remaining hair a deep chocolate brown. Regina had effectively scrubbed away every last remnant of the woman she used to be.

      Devon would never guess she’d once been the spoiled heiress of a powerful A-list actor who’d disowned her and her mother when he learned that Georgiana wasn’t his biological daughter, thanks to the tell-all book. She’d done therapy for her anger issues with her family long ago. But she’d then realized she couldn’t really start building a new life until she understood why her old one had been taken from her.

      And whether or not Devon and Marcus Salazar had profited from the book that had cost her everything.

      Leaning back in the saddle, she slowed the lead horse just before Devon’s cabin came into view. She needed to brace herself mentally for seeing the man who had almost assuredly built his business empire thanks to her misfortune. He was her enemy.

      So it threw her that he was absurdly handsome. His green eyes had sparked an unwelcome heat inside her the only time she’d spoken to him two days ago, when she’d invited him on a trail ride.

      Being around him rattled her, but she had to hide it. Had to stay focused. Because she would do whatever was necessary to uncover the truth.