Married to His Business / Six-Month Mistress: Married to His Business. Elizabeth Bevarly

course, if he were honest with himself, Matthias would have to admit that he was more pissed off at himself than anyone else. He hadn’t meant to lose touch with the Seven Samurai over the years. It had just…happened. Time happened. Distance happened. Work happened. Life happened. People grew up. They grew apart. They went their separate ways. Happened all the time. He and Hunter and the rest of them had all been kids when they’d made pacts and promises to stay friends forever. Hell, Matthias hadn’t even kept in touch with his own brother. Then again, when your brother did things like accusing you of cheating him in business and stealing your fiancée, it was understandable why you’d allow for some distance.

      As soon as the thought formed in his head, Matthias pushed it away. He was being unfair to Luke. Really unfair this time, and not the phony-baloney unfairness of which his brother had always accused him. Their father hadn’t exactly been a proponent of fairness, anyway. He had pitted the two of them against each other from the day the twins were old enough to compete. Which, to the old man’s way of thinking, had been within seconds of their emerging from the womb. If there had been some way to make the boys vie for something against each other, Samuel Sullivan Barton found a way to do it. Who could win the most merit badges in Cub Scouts. Who could sell the most wrapping paper for the school fund-raiser. Who could score the most baskets, make the most touchdowns, pitch the best game. As children, they’d been more like rivals than brothers.

      It had only gotten worse after their father’s death and the terms of his will had been made public. Samuel had decreed that whichever of the boys made a million dollars first, the estate would go to him in its entirety. Matthias had won. Though winning had been relative. Luke had accused him, unjustly, of cheating and hadn’t spoken to him for years. It hadn’t been until recently that the two men had shared anything. And then what they’d shared was Lauren Conover, the woman who’d agreed to be Matthias’s wife. It had been the ultimate competition for Luke…until he’d fallen in love with the prize. And although Matthias had come to terms with what had happened, things between him and his brother still weren’t exactly smooth. Or simple. Or settled.

      Man, what was it about peoples’ last wills and testaments that they always sent Matthias’s life in a new direction?

      He sighed as he leaned against the front door and drove his gaze around the lodge. In college, they’d said they wanted to build a cabin. But “cabin” evoked an image of a rustic, no-frills, crowded little shack in the woods with few amenities and even fewer comforts. This place was like something from Citizen Kane, had the movie been filmed in Technicolor. The great room ceiling soared up two stories, with expansive windows running the entire length of one wall, offering an incredible view of the lake. The pine paneling was polished to a honeyed sheen, the wide planked floors buffed to a satin finish. At one end of the room was a fireplace big enough to host the United Arab Emirates, a sofa and chairs clustered before it that, ironically, invited an intimate gathering of friends.

      The place was exactly the sort of retreat Matthias would have expected Hunter to have. Handsomely furnished. Blissfully quiet. Generously outfitted. And yet there was something missing that prevented it from being completely comfortable. Something that Hunter had obviously forgotten to include, but Matthias couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

      He pushed himself away from the door and made his way to where his weekender had landed—just shy of actually hitting the nearest piece of furniture he’d been aiming for. His footsteps echoed hollowly on the hardwood floor as he went, an auditory reminder of just how alone he would be while he was here. Matthias wasn’t used to traveling alone. Kendall had always come with him on business trips, and even though they’d naturally had separate quarters, he’d seen her virtually from sunup to sundown. Of course, this wasn’t, technically, a business trip. But he would have brought Kendall along, had she still been in his employ, because he would be working while he was here. And Kendall had been a big part of his work for five years.

      Five years, he thought as he grabbed his bag and strode toward the stairs that led up to the second floor. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t such a long time. But it comprised the entirety of Kendall’s work life. He was the only employer she’d had since graduating. He’d been her first. Her only. He’d been the one who had introduced her to the ways of business, the one who’d taught her how to achieve the most satisfaction in what she did, the one who’d shown her which positions to take on things that would yield the most pleasurable results. And now, after he’d been the one to initiate her in all the intricacies of the working relationship, another employer had wooed her away.

      “Oh, for God’s sake, Barton,” he muttered to himself as he climbed the stairs. “You’re talking about her like she’s an old lover.”

      He waited for the laughter that was bound to come from entertaining a thought like that, but for some reason, it didn’t come. Instead, he was overcome by a strange kind of fatigue that made him want to blow off work for the rest of the day and instead go do something more—

      The thought made him stop dead in his tracks, halfway up the stairs. Blow off work? Since when had he ever blown off work? For any reason? And how could anything be more than work? Work was everything. Talk about something that should have made him erupt into laughter.

      But he didn’t laugh at that, either. Instead, he realized he’d left his laptop out in the trunk of the car. Worse, he realized that, even if he’d remembered to bring it in with him, he wasn’t completely sure how to get to all the files he needed to get to. That had always been Kendall’s job. Knowing how to pull up whatever needed pulling up and pulling it up for him. Hell, half the time, she’d taken care of whatever needed pulling and then pushed it back down again.

      He was going to have to hire a temp for now, he told himself. Surely there was a temp agency close by. Tahoe City maybe. Too bad Kendall wasn’t here. She would have found just the right person, and she would have had the person here five minutes ago. But how hard could it be? he asked himself. He just needed to find the phone book, and he’d be good to go.

      So where did people keep their phone books, anyway…

      By the time she entered the bar of the Timber Lake Inn that evening, Kendall had accepted the fact that it, like everything else in the establishment, would be cozy. Sure enough, it was. Like the rest of the hotel, it was pine-paneled with hardwood floors and Native American rugs, but the lighting was lower than in the other public rooms, softer and more golden, and very… Well, there was just no way around it. Romantic.

      Matthias was right. This wasn’t the sort of hotel any businessman in his right mind would use for business functions. Nevertheless, she was confident Stephen DeGallo had his reasons for using it. Besides trying to lull Kendall into a false sense of security, which Matthias had implied—hah—was the case. Or to lull her into anything else, either. For all she knew, the Timber Lake Inn was the only hotel in Lake Tahoe that had had any openings when Stephen scheduled the orientation. And the fact that Lake Tahoe itself was such a cozy, romantic destination that was kind of an odd choice for a business orientation had nothing to do with anything. It was centrally located, that was all.

      She shook the thought almost literally out of her head and smoothed her hand one final time over the chocolate-brown trousers and cream-colored shirt she’d donned for the evening. Stephen had said the evening would be casual, and what she had on was casual attire. It was. Even if it was the same kind of thing she’d worn to work every day when she was with Matthias. Ah, working for Matthias, she quickly corrected herself. And the reason she’d wound her hair up into its usual workplace bun and put on her usual workplace glasses wasn’t because she was trying to overcompensate for the cozy, romantic environment. It wasn’t. It was because she just hadn’t felt like going to any trouble. She had low-maintenance hair. So sue her. And even though she didn’t need her glasses all the time, what with the low lighting and everything, she figured she’d need them.

      So there.

      She scanned the bar for a group of people who looked as if they were training for new careers, but saw only couples at a handful of tables here and there. Cozy couples. Romantic couples. In fact, one couple was being so romantic Kendall wanted to yell, “Jeez,