While Lars cooks breakfast again, I clean the mess on the floor, saving the bacon and sausages on a plate. Then Lars whistles for the dogs and they come running in to lick the plate clean. After we eat, we agree to go to our separate rooms to shower and change before meeting again in the hall. Lars wanted me to shower with him, but I knew I had to send his photo to Tamara or she would be breathing fire down my neck.

I go to my room, crop the photo, dim it a little with a filter so he doesn’t look so blindingly sexy, and hit send. With a sigh, I put my phone down on the dresser and turn toward the bathroom, but before I get to the door, my phone rings. I turn around and look at it in astonishment. It can’t be. She never calls at this time. I walk toward it and look at the screen. It’s her. This time, I know she isn’t drunk dialing me from a beach.

“Hello,” I answer politely.

A totally photo-shopped version of me fills my phone’s screen. From the background, I can see that it is nighttime and she is propped up in bed. “How’s cleaning up horse dung coming along?” she asks with a big, fake smile.

“Could be worse,” I say lightly. I’m not going to let on that that she can never make me feel bad about being here. I’m having a whale of a time. Far better than she is on her private island in whatever part of the world she is.

She scowls suddenly. “What’s wrong with your face?”

Instinctively, my hand flies to cover the lower half of my face. “Why?”

“You look…red faced and…odd.”

“Oh, I must have gotten sunburned yesterday.”

“Does everyone really think you’re me?” Obviously, she still thinks I’m not anywhere near her level of beauty.

“Don’t worry, there are only a few people here and none of them have heard of you.”

“You’re in Montana, not outer Mongolia. There must be people who’ve heard of me,” she snaps irritably.

It’s like walking on a minefield with her. “What I meant to say is, I’ve only been dealing with ranch hands. They’re not worldly. They spend all their time with animals doing filthy work. God knows if they even know what a celebrity magazine is,” I explain patiently.

That seems to pacify her somewhat. She twirls a piece of her hair on her finger. “What about Lars then? Is he a ranch hand too?”

“Yes, he’s a ranch hand,” I agree warily.

“Well, he doesn’t look very filthy. Maybe he’s filthy in the sack.” She laughs at her own joke.

My belly tightens, but I make a show of pretending to laugh.

“Do you spend a lot of time with him?”

“Not really.”

“Define not really.”

I word my reply carefully. “Well, I guess whatever interactions I have with him are those that happen while carrying out my duties.” Sleeping with him is probably not part of the job, but Tamara definitely doesn’t need to know that little detail.

“You like him, don’t you?” she asks slyly.

“No,” I say, but I must have either taken too long to deny the question or been too emphatic, because she purrs. “Cass, I know that you do. You can tell me. I’m your boss, but I’m also your friend.”

Yeah, right. She must think I fell off a turnip cart to believe that. The mess of baked beans I scooped off the floor and threw in the trash would make better friends to me than her. “You’re mistaken, Tamara. I don’t feel anything for him other than gratitude for teaching me to ride.” I pause, thinking of something that would make sense to her. “He’s just a ranch hand. He has no money or future.”

But she is on to me. “You don’t have to hide from me, Cass. I completely understand how the heart works. It doesn’t matter how much money someone has if you have feelings for them. I’ve been there, you know.”

“I don’t have feelings for him,” I mutter, but Lars chooses that very moment to knock and call from outside my door. Damn.

“You about done, baby?” he asks.

“I’m just on the phone. Can you give me a minute?” I reply, turning away from the phone because I can’t look Tamara in the eye.

“Right, come to the living room when you’ve finished,” he says through the closed door.

“Will do,” I reply. His footsteps move away and I turn back to the screen. My heart is beating like a drum, but I keep my face totally expressionless.

Tamara’s eyes glitter as she moves in for the kill. “That was him, wasn’t it?”

I don’t even try to lie. “Yes.”

“You don’t have to be ashamed. I don’t think having feelings for a ranch hand is a bad thing.” Her tone is both wheedling and conniving.

“I don’t have feelings for him,” I insist.

“Come on, just admit it.” Delicately, she shrugs one shoulder. “It’s not like it’s a crime or anything. You’re a grown-ass woman. So fucking what if you do?”

I realize that she’s not going to give up. She’ll just go on and on until I admit it. Sometimes, you gotta take the bull by the horns. “Okay, yes, I do.”

She smiles triumphantly, a cat-got-the-mouse smile. “There. That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“No,” I say softly.

“So, you’re actually happy there?” she says in a wondering voice. “You found yourself a drop-dead-gorgeous man and you’re not miserable even though you’re shoveling shit all day with a bunch of laborers?” To my surprise, a tinge of bitterness creeps into her voice. For all her money and fame, she is a lonely, sad woman.

“I guess so. I enjoy being with horses. Learning to ride is fun and everybody here has been really kind to me.” Maybe I was responding to that wistful tone in her voice. Maybe, I thought I could ignite some spark of empathy in her, but it was a stupid move.

“But you know you can’t sleep with him, right?”

My eyes pop open.

She grins. It’s not an evil grin. Just the kind of smirk you would give someone when their Monopoly token lands on your heavily built up properly. A smirk that says, gotcha. “It’s in the contract you signed,” she says sweetly. “You can’t act in any way that besmirches my good name.”

Her words jar my brain. Who would have thought her name and the words good name could ever be uttered in the same sentence? “What?”

She fake sighs. “Here’s the short version. You can’t fuck him.”

For a second, the image of how wantonly I opened my legs last night and exposed my bits to Lars’ hungry gaze flashes into my mind.

“You’ve already slept with him, haven’t you?” she pounces.

I frown, not knowing where she’s going with this. I can play nice up to a point, but if she ever tries to shaft me, or get out of paying me for this job, she’ll see another side of me. The side that has nothing left to lose.

“I’m waiting for an answer,” she prods impatiently.

I straighten my shoulders and flick my hair. “Yes, I have, actually, but I’m not in breach of my contract. I was categorically instructed by Ms. Moore to act like you, and I figured that if you wanted a man, you would take him.”

She seems to find my outburst funny. She laughs. “That’s the first bit of bitch-spine you’ve shown. I like it. You’re absolutely right. When I see something I want, I take it. And that’s exactly what I intend to do now.”

I look at her in disbelief.

“However, you may carry on sleeping with him. Keep his dick hot and hard until I arrive,” she orders haughtily.

I blink. Is she serious?

“Just remember that you’re not to reveal your true identity to anyone, especially him…or you won’t get a cent from me. If that’s not enough of an incentive, I’ll get Daddy to make sure your little fuck-friend loses his job too.”

I stare at her in horror.

She pretends to yawn. “Right. Carry on as you are. I’ll be in touch to let you know what changes there are to the original plan.”

Her face disappears from my screen.