Montana Seduction
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Jules Bennett
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One
Getting dumped only days before the wedding and spending the romantic mountain honeymoon at a fantasy adults-only resort by himself was humiliating. What could be worse than going on a honeymoon riding solo?
Or at least, that was the response Dane Michaels was counting on.
Sympathy could be a powerful tool, and he planned to use it in his favor. No one would have the slightest suspicion about the poor, abandoned man staying at Mirage Resort and Spa—and by a combination of laying on the charm and playing on everyone’s solicitousness, he should be able to get all the information he needed.
So did it really matter that Dane had never actually had a fiancée—never intended to marry? The lie had embedded itself so deep in his head, he was more than ready to play the part of the jilted groom.
Dane pulled his truck to the front of the resort. The four-story lodge seemed suspended on the side of Gold Valley Mountain and with each guest suite having one-way windows from floor to ceiling, nearly every angle offered a breathtaking view of the valley below.
Gold Valley, Montana, had been his mother’s first choice when opening Mirage. She’d had a vision, a life plan. But before she could fulfill her dreams, she’d suffered a fatal stroke, and her bastard husband, Robert Anderson, had taken over the two Mirage resorts and left Dane and his brother, Ethan, penniless and alone.
Dane exited the vehicle before the valet could assist him with the door. Dane wasn’t here for the amenities or the secret rooms designed to fulfill couples’ fantasies. He was here for one purpose and one purpose only—to find his opening to get this resort back in his name where it belonged, so he could honor his mother’s memory.
Slipping the attendant a couple of Benjamins, Dane headed up the stone steps leading to the grand entrance. Nostalgia threatened to suck the breath from his lungs, but he pushed on, determined to get exactly what he came here for.
He hadn’t been back in so long for several reasons. Mainly because he didn’t want to return until he was sure he could secure this place for himself. The time had come.
Ignoring the pain of being back nearly two decades after his mother’s death, Dane steeled himself against any emotions. He hadn’t gotten this far by being soft and sensitive. Dane had been smacked with a dose of reality at the age of eighteen and life had been a giant kick in the ass since.
Everything he’d done, he’d crawled and fought for until he got back the money, the power due to him...there was just one thing left.
Without a glance to any of the couples milling about in the open lobby, Dane headed straight to the front desk to check in, reminding himself to remain constantly aware of those around him. There was no room for error and no time to waste.
Dane had a nearly twenty-year-old promise to fulfill.
Mirage manager Stella Garcia had no clue who he was, had no idea her world was about to change. Mustering up charm and sex appeal wasn’t exactly Dane’s area of expertise anymore, he left that to his playboy brother. But right now, and for the foreseeable future, Dane would use every other tool in his arsenal to pull those family secrets from this stranger to get back what belonged to him.
Once upon a time, a seduction would have been Dane’s method of choice for an operation like this. Back then, he didn’t have to try to get a woman into bed, they were more than willing to follow.
Fighting overseas in Iraq had changed him, hardened him, made him even more hell-bent on getting what he deserved.
It had also left him scarred and horrendous.
Getting close to anyone, let alone being sexual, had been practically impossible ever since. He wasn’t stupid or naive. He knew what he looked like, knew doctors said there was hope if he wanted to go through painful surgeries in an attempt to cover the scars.
He didn’t need to cover them. They went far beneath the surface of his skin so some vain attempt at erasing the past was a moot point.
And that had been the sole reason as to why he’d been reluctant to follow through on this plan. But when he couldn’t think of another way to get what he wanted, Dane realized this might be the only way to gain full control of Mirage.
Besides, he needed a distraction from his own mind, the prison he’d been trapped in since coming home from Iraq. He’d thought getting his hands dirty and working from dusk till dawn at his ranch would exorcise the demons away, but they were still waiting every single night.
From the photos he’d seen of Stella, flirting with and charming her certainly wouldn’t be a hardship. “Charming” wasn’t his default mode, but he could turn it on if he needed to. And presenting himself as an abandoned groom seemed tailor-made to winning her sympathies and softening her reserve.
He sure as hell hoped his act of vulnerability and loneliness got her to trust him, to open up and give him a glimpse of exactly how he could use her to get to her father. Presenting himself as some woman’s reject chafed at his pride, but he’d put up with it so he could gain the information he needed. Then he’d head back to his ranch, make this deal a legal thing and no one would even care about his initial plan.
Of course he’d have to hire someone to run the resort. That person would have to be trustworthy and loyal. Dane would accept nothing less than the best for his mother’s place.
Dane kept his sunglasses firmly in place and quickly checked in, turning down the offer to have his bags taken to his room. He knew the way. There was nothing about this resort he didn’t know. A few things may have changed—the decor, the staff—but the layout hadn’t. He’d practically grown up here.
Dane had booked the largest luxury penthouse, the one he knew matched the owner’s penthouse. They were the only two suites with a mini pool and oversize hot tub off the enclosed bedroom balcony. Lovers could literally take just a few steps from their bed and sink into the pool or hot tub while overlooking the beauty of the mountains and valleys.
All of the rooms were top-notch, but Dane wanted the best. After all, wouldn’t any groom plan the most romantic getaway and spare no expense?
As he stepped into the elevator, Dane removed his glasses and pocketed them. Once he put his things away, he had every intention of going out and “accidentally” running into Stella. He knew her schedule, knew every single thing about her thanks to the investigator he’d hired. Dane’s knowledge of her schedule and her personality were the keys to gaining her trust.
Dane was well aware that her father treated her like shit and that he’d given her only six months to prove to him that she could run this place and show a profit—a mammoth undertaking after years of mismanagement had nearly run Mirage into bankruptcy.
Getting Mirage for himself was the main goal, but besting the arrogant bastard who treated his daughter like some bothersome employee was going to be icing on the proverbial cake. Victory was always sweet but victory over assholes was just plain fun. Dane was willing to admit he wasn’t exactly an angel himself, but at least he was a smart and careful devil.
Dane left his bag in his suite, taking only a moment to admire the open view and spacious room. The wall of windows made it seem like he was suspended above Gold Valley. The curved pool was just as inviting as he recalled.
Later he would fully take in the beauty of the room his mother had designed. The stone fireplace, the balcony, the high beams stretching across the ceiling.
For now, though, memories would have to wait. He had a woman to find.
“What do you mean he didn’t show up?”
Stella Garcia attempted to tamp down the migraine that threatened to further sour her already stressful, overloaded day. She stared at one of the hostesses for their main dining area and Stella thought for sure the poor girl was going to burst into tears.
Tears solved nothing—a life lesson Stella had learned from the start. Her mother had died after complications giving birth, ultimately leaving Stella with the most unloving father.
For reasons Stella still tried to wrap her mind around, she wanted his approval—craved it even. Would do anything to earn it, even if that meant taking on impossible tasks.
Which was how she found herself in the current situation—running a top-tier resort with a crowd of hungry patrons about to descend for dinner...and no cook.
Maybe if she’d had her mother, maybe if she’d had just one parent who pretended to actually care...
“He called and said he quit, effective immediately,” the hostess said, nervously tucking her short blond hair behind her ear. “He said something about moving back home to his wife in Oregon.”
Stella pulled in a deep breath and wished she could fast-forward to midnight when she could go up to her suite, pop open the prosecco and unwind.
Unfortunately, at this rate, she didn’t even know if she’d get to bed tonight. All-nighters were depressingly common with this job. Some days were certainly more difficult than others, but she had to keep reminding herself that she’d inherited a mess from the previous manager and her father thought her incapable of fixing it. Those were two highly motivational reasons to prove to the whole damn world that she could and would make Mirage the greatest, most talked about resort on the globe.
“Our guests will start rolling in within an hour,” she stated, tapping her finger on her chin as she thought out loud. “I’ll need to see if there’s anything already prepped or if we have to start from scratch. I know zilch about cooking.”
But she could make a spreadsheet on the financial analytics of nearly any type of business and never break a sweat. She actually loved business and numbers. Damn, she was such a nerd. Too bad her hobbies hadn’t included donning an apron and sizzling steaks.
Her young hostess shook her head. “I burn Pop-Tarts, so don’t look at me.”
If Stella had the time, she’d call up her now ex-chef and verbally shred him. But using her energy to get angry wouldn’t solve their problem. For now, she simply had to push that employee out of her mind because at this point, he was irrelevant.
Really, it was better that he was gone. She didn’t want anyone working for her who wasn’t loyal. There was no room for mistrust or laziness, especially when she was on the verge of getting Mirage back on its feet and finally taking charge of her own life.
“Maybe Martha could help,” the girl suggested.
Stella shook her head. “No, she’s off because her sister is getting married. Damn it. She would’ve been able to salvage this evening. She’s an amazing chef. I don’t even think Raul is coming in until Friday. I may have to call him in because we are in a bind. But I doubt he’d get here in time.”
Employees’ names raced through her mind. It was hard to think of any options. The kitchen staff had the perfect rhythm down and worked like clockwork...well, they did until someone decided to up and quit. But the synchronicity meant no one really stood out as someone who could be trusted to take over the kitchen, even just for one night.
“Okay,” Stella stated as she tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. “We can do this. There’s a logical solution, I just have to figure it out.”
“Excuse me?”
Stella jerked her attention to the double wooden doors leading to the bar and private seating area. She was about to say they weren’t open yet, but her words died in her throat.
Hello, cowboy.
That charcoal-and-red-plaid shirt tucked into well-worn jeans did nothing to hide the beautifully muscled bulk of the mystery man in the doorway. Those shoulders stretched the material of his shirt and his silver belt buckle shone with some emblem she couldn’t quite make out.
Well, she could if she wanted to get caught staring at his junk, which wouldn’t really be the classiest move. Not to mention it would be totally unprofessional of her since he was a guest...and likely here with his significant other.
Shame, that. This man might be worth the risk of forgetting her duties and obligations, but she preferred her men to be available...unlike the jerk who thought she was his ticket into the family money—and that she was too dumb to uncover that he actually had a girlfriend with a kid on the way.
Yeah, no thanks, asshole.
Stella pulled her mind from the nauseating memory and opted to focus on the living fantasy standing in the doorway.
But that man would just have to stay a fantasy—along with every other man for the time being—because anything or anyone taking up her time would mean failing at her job, and her father was just waiting for one little slipup to sell this place out from under her. Her sole focus had to be on Mirage.
Smoothing down her button-up shirt-style dress, Stella took a step toward the striking man with dark eyes. “Our dining room doesn’t open for another hour. Did you need to make a reservation?”
Which he totally should, because there was plenty of divine food prepared by an experienced chef. Part of Stella wanted to laugh at the snarky comment inside her head, because she’d realized over the past few months that if she didn’t laugh, she’d have a nervous breakdown.
But at this moment, she worried that her laughter might border on manic or deranged. She was so, so close to getting what she wanted. There was no way she’d let a rogue chef thwart her plans.
“I couldn’t help but overhear that you’re in a bind.”
That whiskey-soaked voice had her shivering and the vivid fantasy she’d tried to push to the back of her mind kept rushing to the front. Wasn’t there some resort rule about lusting after a guest? After all, this was an adults-only resort so he probably wasn’t here alone. A man who looked like that likely never slept alone...while she knew no other way.
Oh, she wasn’t innocent, but she never stayed the night in someone’s bed, and over the past year she’d barely dragged herself into hers. She’d been working her ass off for her father, wanting to gain his approval, wanting...hell, something from him other than disdain.
Getting Mirage running like a dream was her last chance at some type of parental nod.
“I might be able to help,” the stranger added.
Stella crossed her arms and smiled. “Oh, well, that’s not necessary, but thank you.”
“Do you have someone else to cook?” he asked.
Oh, that dark arched brow that accompanied the question had her belly quivering with unwanted arousal. She must be sexually deprived if a brow and a voice turned her on. Well, the whole rough, manly-man exterior also gave a healthy punch of lust.
Maybe she should examine that belt buckle a little closer.
“Are you a chef, Mr...?”
“Michaels. Dane Michaels.” In two strides he was in front of her and offering a half grin that drew her eyes down from his perfect teeth to the dark stubble covering his jawline. “I’m not a professional chef, but I’m a damn good cook. Ask any employee on my ranch.”
His ranch. Of course someone this rugged and mysterious had a ranch. Montana had no shortage of cowboys, but this guy...he was the real deal and no doubt hands-on with his work if those weathered lines on his face were any indication. Likely the emblem on his buckle was that of his ranch.
“Mr. Michaels—”
“Dane,” he corrected and had her toes curling in her boots with that full-fledged smile. “And you are?”
“Stella Garcia. I’m the manager of Mirage.” Soon to be owner...she hoped. “Dane, I can’t ask a guest to come into the kitchen where food is being prepared.”
He propped his hands on his narrow hips and held her gaze. “You didn’t ask and I don’t see that you have many other options right now. Do you?”
Well, no, but that didn’t mean this was a good idea. She couldn’t let a stranger just come in and ride to her rescue. Good heavens, if her father heard of that, she’d definitely be reprimanded.
“Stella.”
She turned to the Mia, the hostess Stella had completely forgotten was even in the room. “Yes?”
“We just got three more reservations and that booked us up for the night. That doesn’t include the fantasy rooms and the room service.” Mia chewed on her lip and stared over Stella’s shoulder to the fantasy man. “I mean, you should at least think about his offer, but do it fast because in forty-five minutes, people will start coming in.”
Stella rubbed her head and tried to remind herself that she wanted this job, that she loved Mirage. So far she’d had one headache after another, but for the most part she’d been cleaning up the mess left by the previous manager. Apparently he’d been a jerk to the employees and now Stella was paying the price of the resulting disloyalty. Loyal employees didn’t leave without giving notice.
But she did want to own Mirage. True, she wanted her father to see her as a valuable businesswoman and a capable daughter...they were all the family each other had. But more so, she wanted this place because she’d heard of the woman who built it. A single mother who branched out to create something spectacular all on her own.
How could Stella not admire that and strive to be as strong as the original owner, Lara Anderson? When her father had acquired the resort, Stella had done her research on the place before her father let her in this position. She did that with each of his acquisitions, but this one had always stuck out to her and she’d had her sights set on it for years.
“I can’t believe I’m considering this,” Stella muttered as she spun back around to Dane.
Had he just been checking out her ass?
Well, well, well.
No. That should not excite her. She’d been in a relationship several years ago with a guy whose eyes, and other body parts, wandered a bit too much.
Stella cleared her throat. “I couldn’t pull you away from your significant other.”
“I’m actually here alone,” he countered.
“Alone?”
“It’s a long story,” he added with another slight grin—this one looked a little pained. “I’ll tell you about it while we prepare dinner. Deal?”
Stella shouldn’t go along with this. The idea of letting a stranger, a guest, into the kitchen was preposterous, but at this point, she wasn’t sure what other option she had. She needed help and she’d be in there the entire time watching to make sure nothing lawsuit-worthy happened, so what could go wrong?
The worst choice would be to do nothing and stand here and have a mental debate with herself. If her father happened to find out what she’d done, she’d be more than happy to defend herself and be proud that she’d pulled this ill-fated night out of despair...so long as this stranger could do all he’d promised.
Stella nodded toward the kitchen. “Follow me, Mr. Michaels.”
“Dane, remember?”
As she led the way through the dining room, she felt very aware of the intriguing stranger following closely at her back. She worked with men every single day. Her father was one of the most powerful men in business and had a slew of minions in suits that worked for and with him. None had her in a fluster like this one.
There was certainly something to be said about a mysterious, attractive man riding to the rescue at the eleventh hour. It was like fate had planted him right in her path.
And the fact he was here alone had her even more intrigued. Stella couldn’t imagine there wasn’t a line of women with lingerie packed and ready for a getaway to a fantasy resort with this guy.
“There should be several starters made up in advance,” Stella began as she pushed on the swinging kitchen door. “Let’s hope that’s the case tonight.”
“Either way, it will all work out,” he told her.
When that velvety voice washed over her, she wanted to believe him, but considering they were coming from two different positions, she wasn’t sure she should be so quick to let her guard down.
“The menu is set up two weeks in advance so we can have enough supplies ordered in—that means we have a direction on where to go.” Stella pointed toward the wooden board hanging outside the walk-in refrigerator. “I know we’ll have everything for tonight’s menu, it’s just putting it all together like it should be that’s the challenge. And well, I’m not known for my kitchen skills.”
Dane stepped around her and placed a hand on her forearm. That warm, rough palm slid over her skin and had her wondering just how those hands would feel over other, more neglected parts of her body.
Now was not the time for her dormant hormones to come rushing back to the surface.
“I promised it would all work out, right?” he asked. Those dark eyes held her in place. “Trust me.”
“That’s a bit difficult since I don’t know you,” she stated as she stared into those midnight eyes framed with heavy black lashes. “But for now, I’m going to have to trust my instincts and roll with this plan.”
His thumb stroked over her arm. “I’ll make sure this all works out. For both of us.”
Suddenly, Stella wondered if he wasn’t just referring to dinner.
