A Colorado Match

“I’ll force you. I’ve already paid the bill up front. You wouldn’t stiff me like that, would you?” Nate offered up his most placating smile.

Vince lifted an eyebrow and then shrugged. “You’re sure about that?”

“Maybe not, if it was just me,” Nate replied with a wicked smile. “But Pop agrees with me on this one. Give it up, bro. You’d better get used to the idea because you are officially out of options.”

Vince wanted to kick something, except that his leg was already in a cast and Melanie was still looking on. He could argue with Nate all day and night if he had to, but there was no way he would argue with his father.

The man was still in a wheelchair from a recent stroke, which was why Vince was doing all the work in the first place. Pop’s condition seemed to be improving now that Nate was home and had presented him with a granddaughter, but Vince didn’t want to take any chances with his father’s health.

Melanie cleared her throat and smiled, reminding the men of her presence.

Vince wanted to cringe. She’d been standing there the entire time, absorbing all this personal information about the two brothers without saying a single thing. How completely and utterly mortifying.

But she spoke now. “I promise I’ll make the process as painless as possible for you.”

“It’s for your own good,” Nate prodded.

Vince couldn’t stand Nate being the victor of this game, but neither could he see a way out of this predicament except by going through with it. And it was just like his brother to rub it in.

Vince had the uncomfortable inkling, like a wisp of cool air creeping up the back of his neck, that working with Melanie was going to be anything but painless. He sighed and, leaning heavily on his left crutch, pushed his glasses up his nose and scrubbed his fingers through his hair with his right hand.

His head hurt. His leg hurt.

And he’d officially been had.

Vince groaned and pulled up a three-legged stool, seating himself gingerly and leaning his elbows on the front counter at the main lodge. He wanted to cocoon himself in the back office, but there was no one at present to watch the desk. His leg was throbbing and itching and driving him crazy—but not as much as the woman determined to make his life easier.

He didn’t know how he was going to get any work done. He’d never been so distracted in his life. He sat for a good ten minutes staring at the same piece of paper and then realized he hadn’t yet read a word of it.

He kept thinking about Melanie. And it wasn’t just about the enormous disturbance she was going to create in his admittedly clutter-filled life over the next few weeks.

Every time he closed his eyes, he saw a brilliant copper-eyed gaze, red curls and a freckled nose. Even the cute little quirk of her right eyebrow came to mind, and he didn’t know why.

Melanie Frazer was going to be nothing but trouble.

Worse yet, Nate had offered her a room at the lodge so she wouldn’t have to commute from Boulder. With Vince’s luck, she’d be tailing him everywhere, at all hours of the day. At the very least, he knew she was foaming at the mouth to get started organizing him. His shoulders tensed just thinking about it. He was a private person. His stuff was his stuff.

Scowling, he reached for the next stack of papers and stared unseeingly at the one on top. The bell over the front door rang, and he pulled in a breath and held it as he looked up, knowing it was going to be Melanie. Both a smile and a frown wrestled in his expression.

“I thought you might be hiding,” she teased as she brushed curls from her eyes with the palm of her hand. At least she had dressed more sensibly today, in khaki pants and a chocolate-brown sweater that complemented her eyes.

More to the point, she was wearing a pair of hiking boots—new ones, he judged thoughtfully. They’d probably give her a blister or two as she broke them in, but they were still better than high heels by a mile.

“What would be the point?” Vince’s smile was winning the war against the frown, despite his annoyance at Nate for getting him into this situation in the first place.

“Mmm,” she agreed, cocking her head to one side as she studied him. “Sensible man.”

Vince cringed inwardly, although he was careful not to let it show on his face. She was teasing him, of course, but the words hit home nonetheless.

A sensible man. He’d been called that before. It was practically his call sign. If he were charming and witty like his brother, he’d know how to handle a woman like Melanie, instead of tripping over his tongue—and his thoughts, for that matter—all the time.

Hogwash.

He didn’t want to be like Nate. He had enough to think about just being himself. He had a job to do, as did Melanie. And her job, the way he understood it, was to make a nuisance of herself. The sooner she realized he wasn’t the type of man to change things around on a whim, the better off they all would be.

It was as simple as that. Or not.

He reached for his crutches and hobbled to the door separating the front office from the main room. Melanie scrambled forward to help him hold the door, and then hovered near his elbow as he awkwardly hopped toward the furniture surrounding the central fireplace.

He didn’t know what she expected to be able to do if he lost his balance. A tiny little thing like her couldn’t possibly catch him from falling.

“The doctor says I have to keep this cast on for six weeks,” he said, trying for a conversational tone as he dropped to a seat on the sofa.

“It’s bright red,” she remarked, staring at his fluorescent cast.

“Yeah,” he agreed with a chuckle, thinking more of the color of her hair than of his cast. “They have all kinds of nifty colors to choose from these days.”

“Does it hurt?” She took a seat next to him on the couch and crossed her feet at the ankles.

“It itches. I’ll live. Six weeks, if I’m on good behavior.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“The cast. I’ll get it off in six weeks.”

“Oh,” she said, sounding relieved. “For a moment there I thought you were talking about me.”

Vince shook his head. He was thinking about her, but he wasn’t talking about her.

“Good, because you’re not getting rid of me.”

She was almost as blunt and straight-to-the-point as he was, and it took him aback. He stared at her for a long moment, wondering if there was anything he could say to dissuade her from her purpose.

From the look on her face, not much. Unless, of course, he could convince her she was wasting her time.

Which shouldn’t be that hard to do, all things being equal. His daily life was anything but glamorous; and really, having a cast on his leg wasn’t any huge hindrance to the mountains of paperwork on his desk that he had to tackle this afternoon. How exciting was that? She’d soon find that there was little she could do to remove the mind-numbing pace of running the lodge, and his business system, while not as up-to-date as she’d no doubt like to see it, worked for him.

More or less.

Maybe she would see he was hopeless and just leave him alone. His work—his life—could be summed up in three words: boring, tedious and dull. Okay, and maybe unsystematic, but certainly not chaotic.

For the tiniest moment he wished he had something exciting going on in his life, something that would spark the interest of a beautiful, successful woman like Melanie.

Yeah, right. Like that would ever happen. Besides, it was the lodge she was interested in—not him personally. He scoffed internally at his own foolish musings.

Better she learned the truth up front. And better he keep his mind where it belonged—on the lodge.

And not on a certain redhead.

Chapter Three

It was hard for Melanie to concentrate with Vince’s clear, blue-eyed gaze on hers. He was probably wondering what kind of valid help she could possibly be to him.

If he knew the truth, he’d be bolting out the door without looking back.

She was about to rock his life—or the business part of it, anyway. The thought made her smile inwardly, although she kept her expression carefully neutral as Vince sized her up as if she were some kind of competition to him, like players on the opposing sides of a field.

He really didn’t get that they were supposed to be teammates here. She was working for him, not against him, but she sensed it would take her a while to get that piece of information through his thick skull. He had been perfectly polite, of course, but she knew he didn’t want her there. No doubt he was thinking of the quickest and most efficient way to get rid of her.

Which wasn’t going to happen.

Nevertheless, she was relieved when he finally looked away. It disconcerted her to have him staring at her so intently, especially when he cocked his head and flashed her a secretive smile.

“So…” he began, and then let his sentence dangle uncomfortably.

“So?” she challenged. She tipped her chin up and met his reflective gaze again, ignoring how ill at ease it made her feel to do so.

“What am I supposed to do with you?” he mused aloud, tapping a finger on his chin, right over the charming dimple that divided his strong, square jaw.

“Simple. Let me help you. This process is going to go a lot easier for both of us if you step back and allow me to do my work.”

He stared at her a moment more before speaking. The expression on his face didn’t change, but the sudden spark in his eyes let her know something was afoot.

“Okay,” he said at last.

“Okay?” she repeated, completely in shock. After the scene yesterday, she hadn’t really expected him to give in so easily. Or give in at all, really. He’d seemed too stubborn to go down without a fight. And now he was conceding?

“Sure.” His gaze narrowed as he smiled, or smirked, more like. Something was definitely afoot in Vince’s mind, and Melanie knew she wasn’t going to like whatever it was. “I have some paperwork to do in the back office. Because I’m short on help today, you can cover the front desk for me.”

“What?” she said, tempering her voice so it didn’t become tight and shrill.

The man was thoroughly exasperating. His eyes retained that amused spark, and the left corner of his lip completely betrayed him when it twitched upward oh so slightly. He was acting remarkably smug.

Did he think he’d won this round?

Well, then, he’d better just think again. She knew what he was up to. She arched her brow, her mind racing. Due to the restrictions laid on him by his family, he couldn’t turn her away outright.

But if she quit on her own? That would be an entirely different proposition now, wouldn’t it?

He was trying to annoy her on purpose—which would only work if she reacted as he expected her to do. It was, she realized, going to be a remarkably simple thing to turn the tables on him.

“All right, I’ll do it,” she said, smothering a smile. He wanted to play? She was all in.

He stared at her, looking unconvinced. His smug little smirk turned into a cute little frown, furrowing his brow under the top rim of his glasses.

“Really,” she assured him as she stood and walked to the door to the front office. She opened it, gesturing for him to enter before her. “I’m guessing the front desk could use some of my organizational finesse. It’s as good a place to start as anywhere. Once you see my work, I know you’ll change your mind about me.”

Vince shook his head and then nodded, looking a little bit dazed. Then, without a word, he pulled himself to his feet with his crutches and hobbled past her. He looked back only when he’d reached his office door.

“I’m warning you. You’re going to get bored. Fast. There’s really nothing to this job but waiting on the guests if they have questions or need extra towels. This time of day it’s usually deathly quiet around here.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” she answered. “Quiet is good. It will give you the chance to sit down and rest that leg of yours, and for me to get some work done.”

Vince frowned. “This isn’t going to matter, you know. It’s only a matter of time before you realize your efforts are futile.”

“Let me be the judge of that,” she said, twirling her finger to indicate he should turn back toward his office. “Now. You. Go. Sit.”

Vince couldn’t argue with Melanie. He didn’t really want to argue with her, when it clearly wasn’t going to make a bit of difference. He sat down in his comfortable black leather office chair, resting his head back and pressing over his eyes with his palms. He was getting a tremendous headache, but as he had told Melanie, he had a lot of paperwork to do. With a tired sigh, he leaned forward, opened a ledger and then, for a good ten minutes, rhythmically tapped a pencil against the smooth oak of his desktop.

At this rate he would accomplish nothing. She was already disrupting his routine, and she really hadn’t even started meddling yet. How was it going to be when she was standing over his shoulder, analyzing his business practices and criticizing his every move?

He closed his eyes, willing himself to concentrate on the paperwork in front of him. If he could just center his thoughts, he might be able to get something constructive finished; but that wasn’t likely to happen, especially because he could hear Melanie bustling about the front desk.

He couldn’t imagine what she was finding to do that was making so much noise. He couldn’t stand it any longer. Using his desk for leverage, he propped himself up and shuffled out to the front office. He didn’t think he’d ever get used to walking with the crutches, and he knew he must look ridiculously awkward and inept.

Heat rushed to his face, and he frowned. He wasn’t usually so self-conscious. It wasn’t like him at all. These new, confusing feelings had arrived along with Melanie, and he wasn’t sure what to do with them.

Melanie whirled about when she heard him, and for just the slightest moment, her breathtaking copper-colored eyes were wide and blinking, as if he’d caught her in some kind of mischief. It was enough to cause him to hesitate momentarily.

But the startled look was gone, replaced by the self-possessed demeanor he’d already started associating with her personality. Maybe he was imagining things.

“Ta-da!” she announced, sweeping her hand to indicate the front desk area.

“Wow,” Vince said, giving a low whistle as his gaze swept across the newly cleaned and organized desk. Every scrap of paper was neatly stacked, the date books were perfectly arranged and opened on the counter and the whole room smelled like some kind of lemon-scented furniture polish.

He hadn’t realized how messy he’d let the outer office become until he saw how much of a difference Melanie had made with it. Had the guests seen the same thing? Was he truly that disorganized?

Melanie reached for a tin that held a dozen pencils and pulled them out for his inspection. “See? I even sharpened the pencils for you.”

“You really didn’t need to do that,” he said gruffly, shaking his head.

“Yes, I did,” she countered. “I know this project wasn’t your idea, and I know you don’t want me here. Frankly, that knowledge doesn’t exactly make me want to jump for joy at being here either. But if you think you’re going to somehow coerce me into quitting, think again. I’ve got a major promotion riding on this assignment, and I’m not about to lose it because the two of us can’t work together. You’d better get used to me being around because I’m here for the duration.”

“Are you sure?” he prodded.

She frowned and propped her hands on her hips. “You aren’t going to give me an inch, are you?”

He wasn’t. Or at least he thought he wasn’t.

He knew the moment he’d lost the battle, which was the second their gazes met. Her nose wrinkled, making the smattering of freckles dance on her cheeks. He couldn’t keep his gaze away from them.

“Well?” she demanded when he didn’t immediately answer her. She sounded a little put out. Probably because he really wasn’t paying attention to what she was saying.

Those freckles…

“Well?” he repeated, feeling as lame as he knew he sounded. “What?”

“I can put the office back the way it was—which, for the record, was completely messy and disorganized, in case you hadn’t noticed. Everything I’ve done can be undone except for the pencils.”

Her right eyebrow twitched upward. “That is, unless you want me to break all the leads off them, which, at the moment, I’d be happy to do.” The frown that followed her comment wasn’t, Vince thought, completely convincing. It was more mischievous than anything.

“You would, wouldn’t you?” From the look in her eye, he thought she might.

Then again, she might simply be teasing him. He wasn’t certain of anything anymore, especially where Melanie was concerned. What he knew about women could fit on the tip of one of those pencils she had sharpened.

Whatever else was to be said about Melanie Frazer, she was nothing if not interesting.

And determined.

And absolutely beautiful.

What could possibly go wrong?

On her second day officially on the job, she was up and about early. The front desk was vacant; but then again, Melanie thought, it wasn’t yet eight o’clock in the morning.

Vince might not even be at his desk yet, although she suspected he would be. Despite their short acquaintance, she’d made abundant notes on the man, particularly in light of her revealing encounter with him the day before. He struck her as a bit of a workaholic.

And he was definitely set in his ways. Like solid concrete.

She eyed the bell on the front counter, and then decided she would simply let herself into the back and check Vince’s office to see if he was there. He probably wouldn’t be expecting her so early, and for some strange reason it gave her a bit of a rush to think that she might actually catch him off guard.

“Knock, knock,” she called as she simultaneously rapped twice on the half-closed door to Vince’s office. “Hello? Anybody here?”

She pushed the door open and stuck her head inside the office. Vince was sitting behind his desk, facing her. His expression was harrowed as he stared determinedly at the mountain of receipts towering on his desk. An ink-marked ledger was spread in front of him, and the fingers of his right hand were splayed across the numbers of an ancient-looking adding machine, which was spewing out mounds of ticker tape with an old-fashioned clickety-clack.

He looked up as if in a daze, that same stubborn lock of silver-streaked brown hair tumbling forward and his glasses slightly askew on his nose. He would be an attractive man, she thought, if he wasn’t being so difficult about everything.

It would be nice if he smiled once in a while. But of course, the moment their eyes met, his brow knit in consternation. It didn’t take a genius to realize he didn’t like her. Or at least, he didn’t like what she stood for.

Change.

“There was no one at the desk, so I just let myself in. I hope that’s okay,” she explained in her best business tone. She wasn’t going to let his crotchety manner get her down. She wanted to get an early start.

“Already,” he groaned. It wasn’t a question. He sounded annoyed. So much for second chances.

Too bad for him.

He obviously didn’t like it, not even after having been able to sleep on it. He clearly wasn’t in a better mood this morning, and she wasn’t doing backflips herself, but she had a job to do and a promotion to acquire. Today she was determined to get started—really started—with her work.

Because the sooner she started, the sooner she’d be finished—and she could get away from Vince, this rustic lodge and these horribly uncomfortable hiking boots, which she was wearing due to Vince’s questionable advice.

Just let him try to stand in her way.

She was prepared for him. She already knew what the first item on her agenda would be.

Gesturing toward the mountain of receipts in front of him on the desk, she asked, “So what are you doing?”

Vince rubbed the tips of his fingers against his temples and tightened his gaze on her. She knew he was deciding how much information to give her—or even if he wanted to answer the question at all.

After a moment, he dropped his hands back onto the desk and sighed. “I’m preparing the P&L and balance sheet for last month. I’ll admit it’s not my favorite part of this job, but it has to be done.”

“You’re working by hand?”

“Well, I’m not adding the numbers in my head, if that’s what you mean,” he said, tapping his fingers on the adding machine.

Melanie’s eyebrow arched as she pointed over his right shoulder to a closed laptop computer sitting on the pinewood credenza behind him.

“Have you ever heard of a computer?” she asked, trying to keep the edge from her voice. He really was behind the times. She wondered if he knew how much.

He shrugged. “The way I’ve got it figured, by the time I input all these receipts into the computer, I may as well have done it by hand.”

“That’s backward thinking,” she informed him. “Let me set you up with some computer spreadsheets. You’d be surprised at how much time they save you.”

“Not interested,” he snapped, gathering stacks of receipts and stuffing them in a manila envelope marked and dated for the previous month with a red felt-tipped pen.

Melanie wouldn’t be swayed. “It looks like your filing system could do with an overhaul as well.”

“Do tell.” He deliberately turned his back on her as he stuffed the manila envelope into a beat-up metal filing cabinet.

“Look, I know you don’t believe me, but give me the benefit of the doubt.” Give me a break, she thought, although she didn’t say it aloud.

Vince glanced at his watch. “How long is this going to take?”

He asked the question as if he expected her to simply file a single folder and be on her way, but she saw the telltale gleam in his eye. He was being intentionally difficult, and they both knew it.

“Weeks, Vince,” she said, suddenly tired. “This changeover is going to take weeks. Especially with the condition of your office,” she added, not realizing until the words were out of her mouth that the remark sounded like a personal jab, when she was really only stating the facts.

“I was planning to start my work today,” she continued hurriedly, trying to mask over her previous statement. “Right now, in fact. Unless that’s inconvenient for you.”

Chapter Four

She belatedly realized she shouldn’t have added that last part of the statement because he was going to grasp at any excuse he could to block her directive. With her response, she’d just unintentionally handed one right to him.

She was really going to have to watch her mouth around him, that was for sure. He was an intelligent and quick-witted man. He knew how to take it as well as he gave it. She definitely needed to be on her guard with this guy.

“As a matter of fact,” Vince jumped in, without missing a beat, “Jessica should be here any moment, so I’m afraid we simply won’t have time just now to start on your project.” He emphasized the last word just enough to make her want to grind her teeth.

“Jessica?” she queried, wondering if she was somehow supposed to recognize that name, and then deciding he was purposefully baiting her.

“Jessica is Nate’s fiancée,” he explained, his voice lowering and becoming a bit more gravelly.

His gaze deflected for the tiniest moment, and his lips twitched and one corner pinched together. She had the distinct feeling there was something going on behind the scenes in Vince’s mind, and she wondered what it was.

Probably how much he disliked what she was trying to do here. Or maybe how much he disliked what she stood for. Or, possibly the most likely scenario of all, how much he disliked her in general.