by Amber Nox
I escape into the en suite bathroom, my heart racing, although I’m not sure why.
I carry out my evening routine on autopilot and pull on the negligee with a slight groan. Wearing this would be fine if we were dating or married, but it makes me feel like a sex kitten, which is not the aim here. I don’t need him thinking about me like that.
When I emerge, he’s changed into a pair of soft cotton joggers and a tee. His eyes, I notice, roam over my body briefly before he remembers his manners. My face heats under his look.
“I’m sorry. This isn’t really… what I’d wear for bed.” I tug at the edge of the lace.
“I usually sleep naked, but I didn’t think you’d appreciate that,” he jokes, breaking through the ice growing between us.
I laugh. “It might not be appropriate.”
I watch as nerves seep into his movements and when he rubs at his jaw, I can see the tension. “This is sort of awkward, isn’t it?”
I smile. “A little, but it’s only for a short time.”
“Hopefully, we’ll survive that time,” he says and then heads for the bathroom, leaving me a little unsure what he means.
8
Scarlett
I wake early to soft, male snores. Twisting in my covers, it takes me a moment to realise I’m not at home, but at Jake’s vineyard—in his bedroom. I peer over the edge of the bed to where he’s lying on the floor, the blankets pooled around him and can’t help but smile. His hair is ruffled and his face looks peaceful in sleep. He looks cute, too, when he’s not scowling or frowning—something the man does too much of.
Slipping out of the bed, I move silently across the bedroom to the closet, holding the bottom of the negligee tightly, so I don’t flash him if he suddenly wakes.
Carefully, I skim through the garments and find a soft white sun dress that will look fabulous with a pair of white flat sandals I spotted last night. I find a number of lacy undergarments in a drawer that hints at the kind of relationship the personal shopper thought Jake would have. Clearly, one that involves a lot of sexiness.
Arms filled with my load, I head into the bathroom to shower. Once I’m done, I pull my clothes on. They’re expensive. I feel the quality in the material. The styles are not too far outside the realm of what is in my own wardrobe, so wearing it doesn’t feel too strange.
Jake is still snoring softly when I step back into the room, so I leave, careful to shut the door quietly behind me and head downstairs. I make a coffee and then head into the living room.
The sun is rising on the eastern horizon, bathing the land outside the bi-fold doors that span the entire end wall in a warm glow. I can see staff starting to move about as their normal working day gets under way, reminding me that I also have a job to do.
Selling me and Jake as a couple would be easy if his parents were not so suspicious of everything. Dinner last night was a nightmare. I didn’t expect them to be outright hostile towards me, and if this situation was real, I’d be devastated. Although I am a little disappointed they don’t seem to like me much, and I don’t know why because this situation is not real. I shouldn’t take it as a personal affront, even though part of me is. I need to maintain a distance, because right now, I’m too involved in this. It’s hard not to be drawn in, though, when I’m ‘Evelyn’ around the clock.
I sigh. How am I going to survive two weeks of this if I can’t even get through the first night?
Feeling a little dejected by my own behaviour, I sit on the edge of the sofa and watch as the sun moves up the horizon, appearing over the tops of the outbuildings that are used in the bottling and packaging of the wine. I feel calm, at ease watching it, and all the stress of the past twenty-four hours slips out of me.
“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” Jacob’s voice says behind.
I jolt, nearly chucking coffee all over myself. When I turn to him, his mouth is turned up ever so slightly at the corners into what could be the start of a smile. He’s so sullen at times, it’s hard to tell.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.”
I rub a hand over my sternum and say, “You didn’t.”
It’s a lie, and one he clearly sees through, as his lips curve up more. “Right.”
“You didn’t,” I say around my own smile. “Fine, you did a little.”
He moves into the room further, and I can’t help but watch the strong muscles of his back through the tight fitted tee he’s wearing as he moves over to the doors and peers out. He has a strong, lean, athletic type body, and it’s clear he works out, taking care of himself. I focus on his frame as the muscles shift and bunch as he leans his forearms over the top of the bi-fold frame to lean against it.
“I guess I take it for granted,” he says. “It’s all I’ve ever known, but I can see how someone new to the vineyard would view it.”
“It’s magnificent,” I tell him. I move over to the doors, coming to stand next to him, my mug clutched between my fingers as I appreciate the scenery. “It’s hard to imagine a better view to wake up to.”
“I think this should be the part when I tell you I can think of one,” he says quietly, and when I glance at him, he’s looking at me with an expression I can’t read.
“There’s no one here, Jake. You don’t have to pretend when we’re alone.”
“Right.” He sighs. “I’ve never done anything like this before—just so you know.”
“I wouldn’t judge if you had,” I tell him. “We live in a different age, Jacob, and sometimes a helping hand is needed. That’s all I’m providing really—a helping hand.”
He smiles a little and turns back to the glass.
“If you could do anything but this, what would you do?”
“I’m not unhappy with my life.” I bristle slightly at the implication.
“I never thought you were. It’s a simple question, Evelyn. Answer it, don’t answer it—it’s up to you.”
I force my temper back into its box. “I don’t know. I always like drawing, I suppose. Maybe I’d take up art if I had the chance.”
“Do you draw now?”
“Sometimes, when I have a little downtime I might sketch for a few hours.”
“Are you any good?”
I shouldn’t be divulging all this personal information to him, but I can’t make my mouth stop talking. I reason it can’t hurt, if it helps break the ice between us.
“I don’t know. Art’s very subjective. It clears my mind, though.”
“If I need to clear my mind, I go for a walk down to the vines.”
“I can imagine why that would help.”
He nods. “It’ll start getting busy in the next few hours, but this time of the day, when things are just starting to wake up, is my favourite time of the day.”
I don’t know why, but him sharing this makes warmth spread through my belly. He hasn’t really been forthcoming about anything else, so I’m surprised he’d divulge something seemingly so personal.
“We’re set to harvest the west field over the next couple of days,” he continues, “so there’s a bunch of seasonal workers coming in to help, which makes the vineyard seem busier than usual.”
“It really is a fascinating process.”
“You don’t have to say that, Evelyn, to appease me.”
“I’m not. I’m genuinely interested.” This is not a lie. I am.
And I find I’m increasingly interested in what he has to say too.
“Did you always know you wanted to do this?” I ask him.
“This?”
“Be a part of the family business.”
He considers my question for a moment. “I wanted to be a police officer.”
This surprises me.
“Really?”
Jacob laughs a little. “Funny, right? I’d be a terrible one. I’m too business minded.”
“You enjoy it, though, right?”
“Yes, very much so. There’s always a challenge with my work, always something that needs solvin
g. I find I enjoy the fast pace of things. The lifestyle doesn’t suck either,” he says, gesturing to the view out of the window.
“No, it doesn’t.”
“You’re a city girl?”
“Born and bred in London. I’m used to the hustle and bustle, but I can’t deny I’m enjoying this.”
“Would you be able to do it long-term?”
I snap my eyes to him, but his gaze is locked on the window.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“Who I was doing long-term with.”
He laughs. “Nicely answered. I didn’t think I would enjoy this lifestyle so much. When I was a teen, I wanted desperately to get away, make a name for myself. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“We all think what we want when we’re young is what we’ll want when we’re old. It rarely happens that way, though.”
“Very true.”
We’re standing so close, I’m aware of him as he shifts slightly and when he scrubs a hand over his face, I find my eyes lingering on the fuzz of beard covering his jaw. He is a good-looking man—I can’t deny that—and my belly dips when he turns his attention to me and gives me a rare smile as he takes me in.
“You look lovely today.”
His words surprise me.
“Thank you. You chose my wardrobe well,” I say softly. I doubt we’ll see his parents early this morning with jet lag kicking in, but being overheard would lead to some awkward conversations.
“I didn’t think the clothes would look quite as beautiful on you as they do. Then again, I get the feeling you could wear a potato sack and still look beautiful.”
That heat deepens in my face. “Jacob.”
“It’s just an observation. I don’t recall anywhere in the contract it saying I can’t be nice to you.”
“I’m sure it doesn’t, but we should probably keep things professional when no one is around.”
He sighs. “Right. Professional.”
“I know it’s hard, but it’s only a short time. We can do it.”
I smile reassuringly at him, but he doesn’t mirror my gesture. “I need to go and check in with the office, make sure everything is on track for this harvest. I’ll be back in a bit. Please, make yourself at home.”
And without another word, he leaves me standing in the window alone.
9
Jacob
I find myself watching Evelyn from across the field. I can’t stop it. It’s like my eyes are magnetised to her. She looks beautiful in that soft summer dress she’s wearing. The urge to have her mouth is becoming increasingly difficult to ignore. The woman never stops smiling and I can’t help but be drawn to her sunny demeanour, which is ironic, given my more sullen one. I have to keep reminding myself it’s an act, that she’s putting on a show for my parents, and she really is putting on a hell of a show. My mother seems to be taken with her, my father is more sceptical of our union. I don’t know how we can pull this off—or if we can—but for now, everyone seems to believe Evelyn and I are dating. Why wouldn’t they? The reality is so far-fetched no one would ever believe she’s a high-class escort that I’m paying to be here. I’m not sure I even believe it.
And she is high-class. I’ve seen nothing but poise from her. She’s been perfect. She is perfect. If I was being truthful with myself, I’d admit I’m attracted to her, even though I picked the woman based on the fact she isn’t my type. Attraction is a funny thing, though. I’m finding myself drawn to her personality, which is increasing her appearance in my mind.
It’s not real, though, Jake…
I have to repeat this phrase over and over, but it doesn’t seem to be sinking in. My heart doesn’t care that she’s acting a role. It sees what is in front of me and wants it. It’s been a long time since a woman turned my head. After Anna, I was hurt and it took me a long time to recover my pride. Being cheated on is never nice, but being cheated on by someone you thought was your forever is a hard pill to swallow.
“You seem smitten with her,” my father observes.
I turn to where he’s sitting opposite me on the picnic blanket, making his way through a tub of olives. Clearly, Evelyn isn’t the only good actor in this play, although I’m not sure if I’m acting anymore. I am drawn to her in a way I never expected. She’s good with my mother, which is a huge bonus. Keeping her from giving me a hard time about my life was one of my main requisites. Evelyn has succeeded in this.
“I am,” I say, my eyes gravitating towards her as Evelyn laughs at something my mother says. It’s a tinkling laugh that goes straight to my cock. I promise to make her laugh like that for the duration of this… job.
This brings me back to reality with a bump. She’s doing what she’s paid to do—nothing more. She’s showing interest because you gave her a huge payout.
“She doesn’t seem your type.”
I snap my eyes towards my father. It’s been three days since he arrived and still, he’s suspicious. “And who exactly is my type?”
My father stares at me, but doesn’t back down. Not that I’d expect him to.
“She’s very different from Anna.”
Anger flares in me. “That’s a good thing, considering Anna’s indiscretions. And please don’t talk about my ex in front of Evelyn. It will only upset her.”
I doubt Evelyn will care, but I’m hoping it will make him also shut up in front of me. The last thing I want is to wade through the quagmire of memory lane.
“I’m not completely unfeeling.” Dad snorts.
“You could have fooled me. You’ve been nothing but unpleasant and suspicious of Evelyn since she first arrived. If you can’t be happy for me, maybe you should just go back to Australia.”
“I am happy for you, of course I am, but it just seems kind of… sudden.”
“What does it matter if it’s sudden? My feelings are what they are.”
“It just seems strange that your mother intends to play matchmaker and then suddenly you’re happily settled down.”
My father has always been astute, so it doesn’t surprise me he’s had these thoughts rolling around his head. I rile against the insinuation, though, mainly because he’s getting a little too close to the truth.
“What are you suggesting?”
“Nothing at all.”
I scowl at him. “I didn’t mention Evelyn because things were in the early throes and I didn’t know where things were going myself. I also didn’t want Mum making things difficult.”
My father doesn’t stick up for my mother—mostly because he knows what I’m saying is true.
“Are you happy?”
“Yes.” The lie rolls off my tongue so easily, I feel a little ashamed of myself.
Dad’s eyes move back to Evelyn as she leans down as my mother shows her something in the grass.
“She seems a good girl.”
I roam my eyes over her. “She is.”
I push up from the blanket and head over to them. Evelyn smiles broadly as I approach. It’s a smile that says so much, even if it’s not real.
“Your mother was just showing me the wildflowers,” she says. “I had no idea you owned a meadow as well.”
“There’s several parcels of land that belong to the vineyard,” I mutter, sounding terser than I intend, but my conversation with my father has me on edge. “Walk with me,” I say to her.
I see the slight tightening of her eyes as she takes in my command, but she doesn’t argue. Mum takes her wine glass with a more open frown, and Evelyn slips her arm through mine.
We walk for a few minutes in silence, the sun beating down on us. This side of the vineyard is open fields, which is why we chose to picnic down here. The rolling hills and greenery are spectacular. I wanted to impress Evelyn. I don’t know why, but I did.
After we’re a distance from where we left my parents, I say, “My father is still suspicious.”
“He’ll come around,” she assures me.
I rake my fingers through my
hair. “He’s not buying it.”
“You just need to relax,” she assures me. “If you act like you have a secret, everyone will think you do.”
Her words make sense, but they’re not what I need to hear. I’m not sure what I do want to hear, though.
“I hope Mum wasn’t interrogating you too much.”
She smiles. “It was nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“She was questioning you, then?”
“She wants to know me. It’s perfectly natural.”
“It’s perfectly annoying,” I grumble. “I’m sorry you’re being put through the ringer.”
“Don’t be. I rather like your mother. She’s very sweet.”
I snort. “You might be the only person to think that.”
Her hand goes to my bicep and I feel her warmth on my skin immediately. It doesn’t burn, but it is a good touch. When her eyes raise to meet mine, I find I’m drawn to her gaze.
“Her heart is in the right place. She loves you and she wants to ensure you’re going to be happy.”
I have no idea if she’s still acting for my parents, who can still see us from where we’re standing, but she tucks herself into my side and I freeze as her head rests on my shoulder. It’s such an intimate gesture that I hold my breath for a moment until I’m able to loosen my muscles.
“It really is beautiful up here,” she says. “I have to say, this is one of my nicer jobs.”
“It is,” I breathe out. I risk a glance at her and see the calm tranquillity on her face. It makes me relax.
“Do you think you’ll always live here?” she asks.
“Eventually, I plan to take over the business from my father, with my siblings running the overseas operations, so most likely, yes.”
She lets out a contented breath. “It truly is a paradise.”
I want to tell her that the only thing remotely like paradise here is her, but I hold my tongue. This is a business arrangement, and I can’t make it something different with honeyed words.
At least this is the plan. What comes out of my mouth is completely different. “I wish we could stay like this forever.”
