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as frosted as his expression.
    â€œAnd who the hell are you?” James shouted, his temper flaring.
    â€œI own this place, that’s who I am. And you happen to be manhandling my employee.”
    Suddenly James’s eyes narrowed. He looked Seth up and down, assessing him. Then he turned to Kirsten and spat out, “Ah, I get it now. You refused me ’cause you knew there were greener fields out there, didn’t you? And everyone in town knows your kind just like ’em green with money. That’s right, green with money, not like our fields that just have good old honest Montana grass.”
    He bent and picked up his straw cowboy hat that had fallen off when Seth shoved him aside.
    He gave her one long poisonous look and said, “So long, Kirsten. When he divorces you, or better, never marries you in the first place, give me a call sometime. If I’m not busy, I’ll see if I can fit in an extra bronc ride or two for you.”
    He stomped away, glaring at Seth.
    Seth didn’t give him another look. Instead, his gaze was fixed on Kirsten.
    She opened her mouth to protest, to refute, to say anything that would prove what James had said wasn’t true. But every denial seemed so pointless.
    She covered her face with her shaking hand. After a moment she resumed her usual cool demeanor and said, “I’m sorry you had to hear that. James and I dated for a while. I guess he’s still sore it didn’t work out. I had hoped hiring him for the barbecue wouldn’t turn into a scene, but I guess I misjudged him.”
    Seth said nothing. His hard, cynical expression said it all.
    Those same old tears stung her eyes, but she would be damned if she’d let him see her cry again. She was not out for any man’s money, but there was no way to convince Seth Morgan of that when every woman he’d probably ever known knew the worth of his bank account and never bothered to assess the worth of his character.
    But that was beside the point now. She and Seth Morgan would never have a romance. They were doomed from the beginning because it was love she wanted, and if she had to look long and hard to find it, if she had to marry a man who mowed grass for a living, she’d do it. Good old Montana grass was fine by her as long as it came with a kind, honest man who loved her.
    â€œYour ship came to say that I’m leaving for New York tonight. I’ve had a crisis at work that can’t wait. The guests can stay here until my return, but I’ll need you to get out some faxes before the plane takes off.”
    His words contained nothing but dry, accusatory indifference.
    She withered inside. Just looking at him made her ache. He thought she was something she wasn’t, and he had every right to in his situation, and there was nothing she could say to convince him otherwise.
    â€œI’ll be right there, Mr. Morgan,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from withheld tears.
    â€œViola has the stack of papers. See that it’s done.”
    â€œYes,” she choked out as she watched him turn and leave, her heart shattering.
    Â 
    The party was over—a great success if the attendee count was correct.
    Staring out across the fields next to the house where the barbecue had been held, Kirsten sipped on a chardonnay, feeling very much like Nikki at that moment.
    Gone was the wide-eyed wonder of her kiss with Seth in the stream. To Seth, she was now right up there on the list of models and actresses and women who prowled the Wall Street scene just to catch themselves a millionaire.
    She could tell by the expression in his eyes that she’d now been reduced to gold-digger status.
    And no matter how hard she thought, there seemed no way to change that image.
    But worse than that was the fact that he was now doubly dangerous to her heart. If before he was dabbling with her, discovering what she was really like, there had at least existed the possibility he might find