to be an attentive son. His mother had never held it against him that he was a Salazar, the way Granddad did, even though Devon had worked hard to make sure he didn’t overtly share any of his dad’s qualities.
“Most of Bradley’s family will be in town, so Granddad wants to roll out the red carpet,” his mother explained. Bradley Stewart’s family was a force to be reckoned with in banking, a well-connected clan Devon’s grandfather would leverage at first opportunity. “There will be a welcome party, a few media interviews, that sort of thing. You’re always so good with the press, Devon. I’d love it if you could be here.”
He closed his eyes, resenting his grandfather for making this wedding about business. And he hated knowing that news of Alonzo Salazar’s salacious book could steal the spotlight from what should be the happiest day of his mother’s life.
“The launch party is only two days before the wedding.” He couldn’t leave before then. Still, guilt gnawed at him that he couldn’t be there for her when she’d given up so much for him. “But I’ll get a flight as soon as it ends.”
“Of course. I understand.” The music in the background of the call grew louder. “I’d better go now, darling. Good luck, and I’ll see you soon.”
He disconnected the call, not happy to disappoint her, but knowing that it was more important for her to have him here—though she’d never understand why.
Devon needed to speak to all the owners of Mesa Falls Ranch to see what they knew about his father’s past—about the book, about the proceeds, about their relationship with him. But he needed to keep a lid on scandal at all costs. Keep his family’s private business just that—private.
And yet, as he peered through the opening of the barn door, Devon spotted Regina Flores hunched over his discarded jacket, his personal papers spilled over her lap while she helped herself to the confidential contents.
Anger flared—fast and hot.
Shoving open the door the rest of the way, he charged toward her. Her guilty scramble to stash the papers would have been damning even if he hadn’t already seen her reading them.
He stopped a foot away from her, quietly seething. “May I ask what in the hell you think you’re doing?”
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