Hidden in the Vines (Romancing the Vine)

by Gemma Brocato

  Frantic thoughts spun in Jules’ brain. She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Damned vultures.”

  “Got that right. So what do we do? Send her home?” Marcus asked, his tone hopeful.

  “I’m thinking.” Jules stroked her brow in concentration as she tried to figure out how to fix this mess. “You’ll have to take the dinner session. I need to go talk to Gitta. Dammit, I was hoping I wouldn’t have to turn on the Wi-Fi in the cabin, but I don’t think I have a choice now. Gitta will have to send out a statement.”

  “You shouldn’t be so worried about your mom. You know she always lands on her feet. And besides, she pays a publicist to clean up her goddamn messes.”

  “Yeah, well . . . I want to be sure it’s taken care of quickly and with as much discretion as possible.” No way in hell did she want to end up center stage in this. Exactly what would happen if the paparazzi learned she’d hidden Gitta at the vineyard. She gathered her keys up and faced Marcus. “Just try to keep everyone distracted. Hell, pour as much wine with dinner as you want. I’m not worried so much about Alex. But Todd scares the ever-lovin’ crap out of me.”

  “I’ve got this. Go take care of Gitta.” Marcus wrenched the door so hard, it banged against the wall. A moment later, he disappeared into the foyer.

  Jules followed on his heels, determined to get to her mother as quickly as possible.

  Alex stepped out of the library, as if he’d been waiting for her. “Jules.”

  She didn’t stop, barely spared him a glance as she hurried to the front entry. “Sorry, Alex. No time right now.”

  Guilt slammed into her as the screen swung behind her, cutting off Alex’s reply. She should have spared him the time. God knew she wanted to stop and let him hug her troubles away. In his arms was about the best place she could imagine being.

  Emotions she wasn’t expecting flooded over her. Jules paused at the edge of the porch, wavering between what she should do, versus what she was dying to do.

  Footsteps crossed the parquet floor of the entry hall. Alex had followed her. Ignoring his approach, she raced down the steps, then trotted to the parking lot to grab the golf cart. Whether it mattered to her mother or not, Jules had to help cut this new threat off at the knees. Her needs and wants would take a back seat to Gitta’s.

  She was at the cabin less than five minutes later. “Gitta,” she called as she blew into the house. “We’ve got trouble.”

  “Shhh. She’s sleeping,” Peyton hissed. She tossed the book she’d been reading onto the coffee table in front of her.

  “Well, wake her up. This is important. Her little disappearing act has been noticed and the press is putting out all kinds of theories. So far the only one not offered is that she was kidnapped by aliens.” Even the tamest theories were worth noting.

  Peyton’s eyelids flared, the only indication she’d understood just what kind of bee was in Jules’ bonnet. Her body remained as frozen as her face.

  Jules snapped her fingers to get the assistant’s attention. “Peyton. Focus! This is serious. You wake her, or I will.”

  “I’ll do it. But it’s on you if . . . Oh, hell. When she gets mad.”

  “Always is.” Jules shook her head as she turned to the cabinet under the television. Sliding the door to the side, she seized the modem and plugged in the power cable, enabling the Wi-Fi.

  In the background, Gitta grumbled about being awakened. Her mother flowed into the room, her bright pink caftan fluttering around her legs. Peyton dogged after her, the perfect imitation of a loyal puppy. The expression on her face was the closest thing to a grimace Jules had ever seen from her.

  “Julia, this had better be a matter of life or death.” Gitta scowled behind the bandages surrounding her head. The swelling had gone down some, but her face still looked puffy and oddly squished together. “Rest is very important to the recovery process.”

  Jules shrugged as she turned on the smart television she’d bought for her own entertainment. She snagged the wireless keyboard from a shelf. “It’s important, Gitta. Life or death, well . . . that’s for you to decide.” She punched in the password for her AppleTV, then immediately opened a browser.

  “Hey! I thought we couldn’t get on the web. This thing has been here the whole time?” Peyton demanded.

  Offering her the stink-eye, Jules typed in the web address for a well-known gossip columnist. A couple of fast clicks later, the story came up. “Take a look.”

  Gitta gasped. “Oh, my God. I forgot all about that event. How could I have been so . . . Peyton, why didn’t you remind me?”

  The long-suffering assistant flapped her mouth open and closed several times before her eyes turned hard. “I recall reminding you and being told ‘pish-posh, we’ll worry later.’”

  Hmm, a little dissension in the ranks? Didn’t matter. “The question is, what will you do now? Can you reach your publicist tonight?”

  “I fired him last week.”

  “What? Jesus Christ, Gitta. Do you think letting him go was a boneheaded thing to do just before you underwent cosmetic surgery? Then again, you probably never considered you might need some professional help.”

  “He wasn’t working out. It wasn’t supposed to get this complicated. Everything should have been smooth sailing,” Gitta wailed.

  “Kind of sucks that the seas have gotten so rough.” Jules studied her feet, casting about in her brain for the best way to handle this PR nightmare. Drawing on some of her college coursework, she nodded decisively. “All right. Let’s draft a statement. Your manager—Mort, right? He can arrange its release. We can just say you were away attending to family business or something.”

  “I’m not any good at writing. Will you do it? Please?” Gitta begged.

  Oh Lord, she so did not want to help Gitta prepare a statement. But she would. “I’ll help.” Then she hesitated, hating to ask, yet as a dutiful daughter, she had to. “Gitta, is there any chance the reporter is right? Is Beauty By Nature going to release you from your contract?”

  “That’s preposterous. I just signed a new five-year agreement with them last year.”

  “Okay, that’s good to know. We can include that information, too.” Jules opened up a Word document on her iPad, mirrored it on the TV, and prepared to formulate a rebuttal. The blank page appeared on the large television over the entertainment center.

  Gitta settled on the sofa next to her. “Thank you, Julia. For taking such good care of me.”

  Peyton snorted, drawing Gitta’s gaze. As Jules watched the interaction between them, Peyton wilted under Gitta’s scrutiny. The younger woman slunk away toward the kitchen. “Would anyone like tea?” she asked.

  Jules spent the next two hours drafting and redrafting a three-paragraph statement. It shouldn’t have been so challenging, but Gitta kept second-guessing the words and overthinking the message. It was exhausting work.

  Marcus had joined them for a time, bringing leftover lasagna from the group’s meal. He didn’t stay long. As soon as Peyton tried to get cozy with him, he shot through the door like a bat out of hell. Jules would have laughed if she hadn’t been so frustrated by Gitta’s constantly changing word choices.

  The final result ended up being the exact words Jules had originally written.

  The thought hit her that Alex would have been very helpful in putting the words in the best order. He was a reporter, after all. But asking for his help would have granted him unprecedented access to the potential scandal. Regardless of how much she’d enjoy having the man hold her hand through this, then kiss her senseless after, she just couldn’t do it to Gitta.

  “That’s it, we’re done,” she announced as she saved the document. “I’m going up to the main house. Peyton, can you email that to Mort? Then disconnect the modem when you’re done, please.”

  She d
idn’t wait for a response but dashed out the door, a perfect duplicate of Marcus’ exit a little while ago.

  As she drove the golf cart slowly back to the house, she wondered what Alex would make of all this nonsense.

  ~ ~ ~

  After dinner, Alex had taken up residence in the wicker rocker on the shadowy front porch, a peaceful spot to wait for Jules to come back. The soft chirping of crickets hidden in the flowers bordering the walkway, and the trilling of a meadowlark, were the only sounds breaking the quiet. The stillness of the night was perfect for contemplating the future. His future.

  He missed the easygoing, small-town life where he’d grown up. Things were simpler in the country. Okay, Santa Rosa wasn’t exactly the country, but being in a vineyard gave the area an agricultural feel. He’d enjoy living here. Especially if it meant he’d see more of Jules, get to know her better and understand what made her tick. Because God knew, she made him tick.

  Just recalling time spent in her bed last night shot liquid desire to his groin. His dick twitched to attention as he recalled the softness of her skin. Like silk or velvet, as smooth as her laugh and twice as sexy. Alex rubbed his palms together, building heat between them to match what was going on below his belt buckle. God, he was going to have to stop thinking about her. He was as hard as a branch and swelling by the moment. He wouldn’t be able to walk if he continued to reminisce this way.

  The electric hum of the golf cart broke through his consciousness, pulling him back to the present. Jules parked the vehicle, then hopped out. Gravel crunched under her feet as she approached.

  He sent one last mental behave command to his cock, drawing in a deep breath, and stood.

  “Jesus! You startled me.” Jules stumbled to an abrupt halt.

  “Sorry. I thought I’d wait for you here to make sure everything is okay. You know, with . . .” Alex trailed off, glancing around to ensure they were alone. Satisfied no one was near enough to eavesdrop, he murmured, “You raced out so fast.”

  “Just some, um, public relations stuff to take care of. For that special project I mentioned yesterday.” She walked over to his side and nestled in close, without actually touching. “How was dinner?”

  “Best lasagna I’ve ever had. And Marcus kept filling everyone’s wine glass. I’d almost believe he wanted us inebriated. You know anything about that?”

  Her grin was lightning fast and just as bright. Lust jolted to his crotch, tightening everything he’d almost conquered.

  “Every once in a while, Marcus likes to try loosening up some of the teams before the last day. Says it aids in cooperation if participants are a bit liquored up. Too hung over to fight much.” The grin faded from her face. “Do you know where Todd is?”

  “Last I saw of him, he was pinching Andromeda’s ass as he followed her up the stairs.”

  Her slow, sexy smile reappeared. “So he’s probably in for the night.”

  God, he’d love to see her smile like that while he got in her for the night. Alex extended his hand, gratified when she took it, lacing their fingers together. He jerked, pulling her off-kilter. She tumbled into his chest, head tipped back, lips parted, inviting.

  He claimed her mouth and licked her lips, demanding admission. She complied, not only allowing him in but fighting back to claim a spot in his mouth. He thought the top of his head would spin off when she lowered her hands to his ass and squeezed.

  Soft, feminine laughter floated from an opened upstairs window. Alex broke the seal between their lips. He trailed his mouth along the slender column of her neck, savoring the sweet taste of her skin.

  Jules sighed and arched into him, her soft breasts cushioned against his chest. Emotion he didn’t want to explore tapped against his ribs. “We should take this inside, don’t you think?” he whispered, nuzzling her cheek.

  She shivered in his arms. “Race you.”

  As she pulled away from him, light from the foyer shimmered over her face, revealing the heat in her gaze and the flush on her skin. All thought and most of his blood evacuated his brain, traveling directly south. She scrambled away, the screen door spring emitting a twang when she pulled it open. She’d darted inside and had raced for the stairs when he finally came to his senses. Alex chased after her as she pounded up the steps.

  She turned when she reached the top landing and walked backward, away from him. Then raised her hand and crooked a finger, beckoning. “Are you coming?” Her whisper trailed over his nerve endings, feather-light and erotic.

  By Alex’s calculations, he’d be coming in the next thirty minutes. He shot her a wicked grin and closed the distance between them.

  She stopped by his room. “Have you been in here since lunch?”

  He didn’t care about his room. He wanted to fall onto her soft bed and drive himself into her as deeply as he could. “No. Why?”

  She jerked her thumb to the door. “Open it.”

  “Let’s just go to your room. Too many flowers in there.” His tone cajoled. He’d used the same emphasis and inflection to get celebrities to spill their secrets to him.

  “Just open it, Alex. You’ll be happy you did. Promise.” Sweet seduction filled her voice.

  “Fine.” He reached around her and twisted the knob.

  Cupping her shoulders, he lowered his mouth to hers again. He kept his eyes closed as he walked her backward into the room. He heard the door click shut behind him as Jules pushed lightly against his chest.

  “Look around.” Her voice was sexy, inviting, filled with sin.

  Stepping back, Alex bumped into the bedside table. He reluctantly opened his eyes and glanced at his home away from home.

  A quick scan showed they were in his room; that was his laptop on the desk, his suitcase on the luggage stand. But there were significantly fewer flowers. A soft gray tweed spread replaced the pink roses comforter he’d hurled into the corner this morning. The toile chintz, Queen Anne-style chair that had been at the desk was gone. In its place was a navy-colored barrel chair.

  Admiration and affection swelled within him. “Holy shit! When did you have time to do this?”

  “I had Marcus take care of it this morning. You were right. The room was too flowery. Most of them are. I just haven’t made it a priority to redecorate.” She took a seat on the bed, scooting toward the middle. “The previous owner was a charming old lady who’d grown up in the house. And getting the team building operation up and running was a priority. But I started thinking this morning after you left. I should make the entire operation more spa-like. This is a start.”

  She grinned and patted the bed, a clear invitation.

  The mattress dipped as Alex knelt and crawled toward her. Caressing her shoulders, he gently eased her to a prone position, lowering his body to cover hers. Jules wrapped her arms around his neck and drew him closer.

  His lips possessed hers, continuing what they’d started in the shadows of the front porch.

  Chapter 9

  Jules snuck back to her room just before dawn, hating to leave the warmth and comfort of Alex’s arms. He’d been attentive, creative, tender, and fierce all at the same time. In fact, several times in the course of the hours they spent together. Jules ached pleasantly in places she’d forgotten she had.

  She smiled through her shower, soaping her body, pretending it was Alex bathing her. She arched her back as water coursed down her torso, as hot as his fingers had been. The smile remained on her face as she descended the steps. At the bottom, she opened the front door to let fresh air into the house. Her smile broadened as a warm, gentle breeze kissed her face. She turned, making her way to her office.

  And the smile melted faster than chocolate in a microwave.

  Andromeda was seated behind the computer monitor, her fingers dashing across the keyboard.

  Jules’ legs locked i
n place. “What do you think you’re doing?” she demanded, her shrill voice making Andromeda jerk her head up.

  The woman’s cheeks flushed as her eyes widened. “Um . . .” She moved the mouse rapidly, clicking several times.

  The team member’s furtive actions unfroze Jules and she stalked across the room, reaching the desk in four strides. “How did you get in here?”

  Her throat working convulsively, Andromeda shifted her eyes from side to side. “I, um, the door was unlocked.”

  “Why would you take that as an invitation and come in here? And what are you doing on my computer? I thought I made it clear, computers and tablets are off limits at Team Vino.” Jules peered at the monitor. A Google search window was open.

  She turned to the closet in the corner that housed her server equipment. The door stood open, the bulb suspended from the ceiling glaring brightly. “Dammit, Andromeda! What have you done?”

  “I . . . you said you were having problems with your Internet connection. I work for an IT company. I fixed it for you.”

  Jules dragged her hand through her hair, rubbing the throb blooming on the crown of her head. “Did you, now?”

  The twit smiled triumphantly. “Yes. It was easy. Your modem was just unplugged. I guess you just didn’t think to check the power supply. And you know you can wait for days for a service call from the cable company.”

  Why the hell didn’t I think to hide the modem in my suite? Talk about airhead moves. Jules forced a smile, her cheeks aching with the effort. “You’re right. Thank you for helping. But let’s keep this our little secret, okay? Don’t want the other teams to get distracted. We have a lot to accomplish today.”

  “Oh, sure. Sure. I understand.” Relief spilled from Andromeda’s words. “Is breakfast going to be served soon?”