Dodging Temptation (The Retreat) (2 page)

He opened and shut his mouth several times.

“You being here isn
’
t going to work.” Dodge paced in front of the desk, so tall she had no trouble watching him above the stack of books. “Do you know what I found in the bushes?”

Harper crossed her fingers under the desk. “
Quail?
”

He rolled his eyes. “No. A slimeball photographer intent on getting photos of you.”

Probably the same one who
’
d hacked her email right after her divorce became final last month. Why couldn
’
t people just leave her the hell alone? “I assume you got rid of him.”

That stopped him in his tracks. “Of course.” He said it as if the universe wouldn
’
t even allow another possibility.

Dodge Loving might be a Type A asshole, but in this instance he was
her
Type A asshole. She
’
d hated dealing with the press since the first time her mother had dressed her in something frilly and itchy before her dad plopped her down in front of the cameras for his failed presidential run. That her dad hadn
’
t become president that time, or the next time he
’
d run, didn
’
t lessen the press attention on her family, and they
’
d crowned her as some sort of political princess. Add to that the fiasco from eight months ago and the slap heard around the world…and yeah, she
’
d rather eat her own arm off than talk to the press. The fact that Dodge had gotten rid of one of the slimy bastards made her almost like him despite the fact that he was trying to fire her. She relaxed in her chair. “Thank you.”

It hadn
’
t been easy getting this job, and she wasn
’
t giving up on it now. She
’
d been on six interviews before the offer from May Loving dropped in her lap. No one else in the conservative rare book field wanted to hire the woman whose name had become shorthand for a pissed off scorned political wife with a vendetta, but May hadn
’
t cared. She
’
d said something about the universe having a plan, and that was that. Harper had gone to the airport and found the Loving family jet ready to whisk her off to The Retreat.

“You still need to go.” Dodge continued to tap away on his phone. “He said there
’
d be more bottom-feeding reporters coming and we can
’
t have that here. Our guests require utmost privacy.”

And there probably would be more. Paparazzi replicated like gremlins after midnight. “Good thing I have all of these books here to keep me busy and indoors away from prying eyes or telephoto lenses—and you, of course, to watch out for me.”

He kept tapping away on his phone, obviously confident she
’
d bend to his will. “If you
’
re going to stay here, then you
’
ll need to do an interview so they
’
ll stop lurking around the place.”

Her stomach lurched. “Absolutely not.” The ironclad employment contract she’d signed clearly stated she’d lose her job if she did any interviews. Her boss, Simon, at Graveson Brothers Books, was militant that she bring no negative attention to the firm because of her past and, unlike what most people seemed to think, she didn’t have millions tucked away in her bank account. Hell, she barely had a thousand dollars in her quickly dwindling savings account. And her boss all but promised that even a whisper of scandal and her employer’s parent company, the Boston-based Kerry Holdings Unlimited, would use all of its many corporate attorneys to rain hell down upon her until she drowned. She couldn’t afford to lose this job.

His head snapped up and he palmed his phone before going perfectly still. His muscular chest didn
’
t even rise with his breath. The pompous ass had probably trained his organs to obey his every mental order. Five seconds. Ten seconds. Thirty seconds. She wasn
’
t going to yield, but that didn
’
t mean she wasn
’
t going to squirm. Beads of nervous sweat gathered at the nape of her neck. Belle
’
s diary wavered in her hand. She gulped down the urge to acquiesce. Old habits die hard, but she was determined to kill that one until it was dead.

Dodge
’
s mossy green eyes had turned the color of emeralds. “You don
’
t have a choice. In fact, I
’
ll do whatever it takes to make sure of that.”

Someone
really
didn
’
t like having his plans spoiled. He glowered at her when she didn
’
t immediately snap back in line. She straightened up in her chair. Being a badass was kind of fun.

“I always have a choice.” That hadn
’
t been the case forever, but she did now. She
’
d retired her political princess crown and squashed her knee-jerk reaction to always be the dutiful daughter and wife who did what was best to get a boost in the polls or ensure a vote—no matter what she really wanted. “If that
’
s all you wanted, I have a lot of work to do.”

He loomed over her, making the desk between them feel like as much of a barrier as a mini Lego. “All I want is for you to do an interview so the opportunity for an exclusive disappears and the jackals stay off my property.”

“It
’
s good to want things.” Powered by bravado and a stubborn streak three miles wide, she winked. “It keeps you hungry.” Without waiting for a response, she opened Belle Starr
’
s journal back up to the first page, studiously ignoring the big bad wolf with too much testosterone glaring at her from less than two feet away.

He could huff and he could puff, but it was going to take a lot more than a hot guy with a stick up his ass to make Harper change her mind.

Chapter Two

T
he dark, musky patchouli scent hit Harper as soon as she turned the corner and entered the back hallway leading to May
’
s meditation room.
Set back from the public places in the thirty-bedroom main lodge, it was part of the original homestead. The walls were lined with warm oak, and large wood beams decorated the ceiling. It looked about as rustic and old school Wyoming as she could imagine. But as soon as she turned the crystal doorknob and entered the meditation room, it was like entering a new world.

The basic elements were the same, with wood covering every surface from floor to ceiling, but May had layered rich fabrics in autumnal colors over the plush armchairs and overstuffed cushions. Cream curtains hung from rods attached to the ceiling, separating one meditation space from another. Burning candles were scattered throughout the room, spreading the scent of patchouli and sandalwood, while the low thrum of chanting Tibetan monks played quietly over hidden speakers.

Harper searched the room for May and came to a complete standstill as soon as she spotted her. The Loving family matriarch sat in the center of the room atop a chestnut-colored cushion, a look of total peace on her face that relaxed the crow
’
s feet around her bright green eyes and melted the deep laugh lines that bracketed her mouth. Definitely not the time to bust in and rat out her employer
’
s eldest son for trying to fire her.

Afraid to even let go of a breath and disturb May, Harper tiptoed backward, pulling the door shut as she went. The door was nearly closed when the heel of her cute kitten-heeled shoes caught on a groove in the wood, knocking her off balance.

Oh, sh—

She let out an involuntary squeal. Her head went back as her feet went straight up. The room tilted, and she landed with a hard
thwack
against the hardwood floor, cracking her head against the wood and slamming all the air out of her lungs. Pain shot outward from the back of her head, and she clenched her eyes shut, keeping them that way until the agony subsided. Her lungs began to function again, and she decided she wasn
’
t going to die of anything other than embarrassment.

“Never go backward when the universe wants you to move forward,” May said somewhere off to her left.

Harper blinked her eyes open and gingerly sat up. “That
’
s one way to explain being a total klutz.”

May laughed and sat down cross-legged on the floor beside Harper. “It
’
s Dodge, isn
’
t it?”

“What makes you say that?” Harper asked as she rubbed the sore spot on her head.

“A mother knows.” Her lips curled up, but the Zen-like calm remained in her green eyes. “Plus I happened to be walking by the library when he tried to fire you.”

Imagining what the scene must have sounded like echoing out into the hall, Harper flinched. To never cause a scene had been firmly implanted in her by her parents for whom image wasn
’
t the most important thing—it was the only thing. Still, May could have stopped in to the library and set Dodge straight. “And you didn
’
t tell him he couldn
’
t do that?”

“Does one tell the river not to flow?” She shook her head, the movement making her dangling gold earrings sway and jangle. “Dodge is Dodge. He always has been wound up too tight. One of these days he
’
s going to pop a spring if he doesn
’
t find the right woman to unwind him.”

“I feel sorry for her already.” The words tumbled out before Harper could stop them. She cringed and fisted her hands by her side to keep from slapping her hand over her mouth. Insulting her biggest—and only—client
’
s son wasn
’
t the way to hold on to the job she needed. “Sorry, May, I…”

The older woman giggled, a light airy sound as fluttery as the gauze curtains hanging in the meditation room. “Don
’
t worry about it. Dodge has that effect on some people.”

“So will you talk to him? When I did, I just seemed to get under his skin and tick him off.”

“I will.” May cocked her head and gave Harper a considering look. “I
’
ll talk to him
all
about you.”

Trouble. The gleam in May
’
s eyes was an all-caps trouble-ahead warning that sent unease skittering down Harper
’
s spine. “On second thought, maybe it’s best if we let him be.”

“Oh no. Talking to him about you is a
perfect
idea. Someone who gets under his skin is exactly what he needs.” May tossed her hands up in the air and did a shimmy with her narrow hips. “I should have realized as soon as I saw you and that flaming hair of yours that you
’
d light a fire in him.”

That was one way to describe it. Still, Harper couldn’t shake the feeling that May was plotting. If she’d learned anything growing up it was all about parental manipulation. “I’m not sure I like where this is going.”

“The universe is like that sometimes, but we all end up where we need to be and with whom we need to be.” May gave her an assessing look. “Yes, the more I think about it the more I realize the universe has brought you here for a reason.”

“To authenticate your cowboy diaries.”

“No darling, to fall in love.”

Oh no. Nope. No way. That was not going to happen, not anytime soon and possibly not ever again. She was done with love in all its manipulative forms. “The ink on my divorce is barely dry. The last thing I want is to make a love connection.”

“Want and need are two totally different things.” May shrugged. “You have to open yourself up to all the universe has to offer.”

“Unless it’s offering calorie-free ice cream, I’ll have to decline.”

“You sound just like Dodge, thinking you can force the universe into behaving. That’s exactly why you’re perfect.”

Unease transformed into downright panic that made her palms clammy and her pulse jackrabbit. “I
’
m not sure—”

“That
’
s okay, I
’
m sure enough for both of us.” May rubbed the flat stone pendant she always wore and glanced up at the ceiling. “I got this one, universe.”

She looked around. Yep. They were definitely still alone. “What do you have?”

“The solution to Dodge.” The Loving matriarch beamed at Harper. “You.”

Okay, this had officially landed her in the center of the crazy trail. “
I don’
t think that
’
s in my realm of expertise.”

“It
’
s time you begin to see beyond the expected.” She curled her deceptively strong fingers around Harper
’
s wrist and held tight. “It
’
s scary, I know. When I met the boys
’
father, Hale, he couldn
’
t have been more unlike what I was used to than if I
’
d put orange juice in my cornflakes. A Boston Brahmin heiress and the black cowboy from Wyoming.” Her earrings jingled again when she ruefully shook her head. “My father disinherited me when I ran off with Hale, but I didn
’
t care then, and I sure don
’
t care now.” She giggled her signature high-pitched trill. “A few months ago, I was at my weekly reading and Sarah Beth kept finding the love cards being tied in with the boys. That was clue number one. Then, when I was in Washington, D.C. and happened to run into you in the stacks at the Library of Congress? That was clue two. And now Dodge tries to fire you. That
’
s three! How could I have been so dense to have missed it until now? Good things always happen in threes, and Dodge falling in love with you is a
very
good thing.” May looked at Harper expectantly.

Harper tried to stop her eyes from bugging out. “That
’
s not going to happen.”

“The universe has plans for all of us.”

“Well, this plan officially sucks, because I don’t believe in love, especially not with a Type A CEO who thinks the whole world should jump when he snaps his fingers. I
’
m not the kind of girl who falls in love anymore.” She whinged. Damn, she needed to start censoring herself when it came to Dodge Loving. “Sorry, I know he
’s your son.
”

The matriarch shrugged. “None of this is news to me, and that is exactly why you
’
re perfect.”

Backpedaling away from the meditation room hadn
’
t worked so well the first time, but this whole situation was weird enough to make her try it again. She stood. “Thank you for the…ahem…offer, but I
’
m going to have to decline. I
’
ve got two weeks to catalog your rare cowboy diaries and books. It
’
s going to take all my focus to get it done on time. The universe is going to have to find another girl for Dodge. Bye, May.”

She spun on her heel and hustled down the hall before May could pull her any further down the crazy trail. Pausing at the wall of floor-to-ceiling windows in the walkway connecting the old homestead part of the lodge to the guest wing, she spotted Dodge and another man half hidden by a small grove of trees partway between the lodge and a private cabin set away from everything else. In comparison to Dodge
’
s muscular runner
’
s body, the other man looked like he
’
d been ridden hard and put up wet. Skinny, slouched, but still studly, he braced himself up with one hand pushed against the rough tree bark.

It took her a second, but there was no mistaking Garth Hampton. For the last thirty years he
’
d put out a string of number one albums and gotten rich. Rumor had it he was up for induction in the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame. The last she
’
d heard of the world famous rocker he was checking into rehab after an unfortunate incident with six groupies, a bottle of tequila, and an unexpected orgy on the el train in Chicago documented by paparazzi.

As if he could feel the weight of her stare, Dodge turned and his gaze caught hers. Her breath hitched, champagne bubbles bounced around her belly, and her focus dropped to the honey-brown floorboards before she tilted her chin just enough that she could watch him through her eyelashes.

Dodge said something to Garth who settled a baseball hat low on his head, hunched his shoulders up, and hustled off, staying as far away from any other person as possible. Looked like someone was here incognito. Her attention didn
’
t stay on the aging rocker long, not with Dodge staring at her with the intensity of a man on the most important mission of his life. A shiver shook its way down her spine, turning her skin icy hot and puckering her nipples until they strained against the satin lining in her bra. His full lips curled into a cocky grin, as if he knew exactly the effect he had on her mutinous body, and she couldn
’
t shake the feeling that she
’
d just been marked as prey.

T
he Retreat
’
s ridiculously wealthy guests ate in the main lodge
’
s exclusive dining room that looked like a rustic version of the top restaurants in New York, Paris, or Rome. Celebrity chefs rotated thro
ugh the kitchen, bringing something new to the menu each month and keeping the foodie guests returning year after year just to see what was being served now.

The Loving family, though only slightly less wealthy than the people it catered to, spent most dinners together in the lodge
’
s intimate private dining room. Dodge had always liked the separation. Even a Type A personality like him needed some downtime. But tonight wasn
’
t about relaxing over steaks cooked to a medium rare perfection. It was about gathering intel on the woman whose very existence at The Retreat put his entire plan for his future in jeopardy.

Luxury, privacy, and total discretion, that’s what The Brasch Group promised guests at all of its properties. All it would take was one paparazzi shot of Garth Hampton and The Brasch Group would pass over The Retreat and sign with his grandfather’s hotels. That would be just the influx of cash the bastard of an old man needed to keep his hotels afloat. Dodge refused to let that happen.

The steak and baked potato were already waiting for him on a plate by the time he walked into the room. He pulled out a chair at the round cherrywood dining table between his brothers and sat down. Normal people would have scooted their chairs over a little bit to make room for him. His brothers were not normal people. They bracketed him in as tight as the cow chute at one of Stone
’
s rodeos.

“Excuse me,” he said.

“I
’
ve been trying to think up an excuse for you for years,” said his youngest brother, Griff.

Stone didn
’
t even look up from his plate piled high with steak, potatoes, biscuits, broccoli drenched in cheese, and fresh shrimp flown in from the coast this morning.

Little brothers, would they ever learn? Probably not his.

Dodge planted his ass firmly in the chair and locked his thighs tight—they were his little brothers, but neither of them stood any less than six feet three. Stone spent most of his time wrestling bulls to the ground while most of Griff
’
s wrestling happened behind the closed bedroom doors of Fremont, Wyoming
’
s female population. One quick inhale and then on the exhale Dodge jammed his elbows into each of his brothers
’
ribs. The double
“oof”
they let out never got old.

“Boys.” Warning lay thick in his dad
’
s voice. “Cut the shit and scoot over. I swear to God, I have calves in the back pasture more mature than you three.”

Their mother may be all about the touchy-feely call of the universe crap, but their father was pure Wyoming rancher. Hale Loving talked very little and took even less shit. The two were about as different as their skin tones, Hale as dark as a moonless night and May as light as The Retreat
’
s porcelain serving dishes, but together they meshed. Someday he might have time for a life like theirs, but not until he
’
d built a financial empire to rival his grandfather’s. The bastard had thrown May out when he
’
d discovered his daughter hadn
’
t just fallen for someone outside of their tight social circle, but a cowboy from Wyoming whose large bank balance didn
’
t negate the dark color of his skin.