by Susan Meier
Part of him wanted to disagree with that strategy. He had no intention of a permanent relationship with anyone. He had a family to support. He also did not make a good boyfriend, which probably meant he’d make a worse husband.
So he couldn’t be thinking thoughts of permanency with Lila.
Still...
He didn’t want to stop the natural flow of what was happening between them. Sleep together. Not sleep together. It didn’t make any difference. What mattered was that everything evolved naturally. Then there’d be no mistakes. There’d be no hurt feelings.
If he had to choose, he wanted her more as a lover than an assistant. But that was another bridge they would cross when they came to it. He would never let her go empty-handed. When whatever they had fell apart, he would make sure she had another job. A better job. He would make sure she wasn’t sorry that she had loved him.
Satisfied, he left the apartment, walked up the cobblestone path with a silly smile, attended a dull, dry meeting with Alonzo, who presented a study on grapes, then begged off lunch. In the restaurant, he grabbed the basket of food he’d ordered that morning and headed back to the apartment.
He opened the door but didn’t see Lila, so he called, “Are you ready?”
She came out of her room dressed in skinny jeans and a big, sloppy T-shirt, wearing her glasses.
“That’s different.”
“These are my own clothes.” She caught his gaze. “Too casual?”
The tone of her voice told him that for some reason or another wearing her own clothes was important to her. He presented the basket. “We’re having a picnic in the grass. I’d say you’re just right.” He smiled and held out his hand. “Let’s go.”
She led him down the flight of stairs, the same stairs he’d carried her up the night before. Crazy sensation spiraled through him and he let it. Whatever was happening between them, he liked it. She did too.
Outside, she stopped on the cobblestone path, gaping at the vehicle before her.
He laughed. “That’s my ATV. We’re going out.” He pointed at the vineyards. “Way out. I want you to see the vineyard, the grapes.”
She peeked back at him. “The whole deal, huh?”
“Sí.” He walked to his all-terrain vehicle and set the picnic basket in the bin in front. “You’ve worked for a vineyard for a year. I think it’s about time you saw it.”
He climbed on and patted the seat behind him. “You’re here.”
She looked a little nervous but that only made him all the more determined. She’d probably felt out of her league this entire trip, yet she’d held her own. She’d tried everything he’d asked of her—including a samba and flamingo. She wouldn’t wimp out now.
She climbed on behind him. Though he could have shifted forward, he liked the feeling of her small body nestled against his. She gingerly slid her arms around his waist, and because she was at his back and couldn’t see his face, he smiled. He simply loved the way she felt. In his arms. Wrapped around him. Dancing with him. It didn’t matter.
“Shouldn’t we have helmets?”
“You are about to take a leisurely drive along some of Spain’s most beautiful land. You should just enjoy.”
She pulled in an unsteady breath. “Okay.”
He started the engine with a quick flick of his wrist and eased them over a short path that took them to a dirt road that led to the vineyards. The movement of the ATV created a cool breeze that billowed through the heat. They passed rows and rows of grapevines. Wanting her to see everything, he took a few detours, winding between the rows, past ponds and along tiers of new plants.
She didn’t say a word. He probably wouldn’t have been able to hear her over the roar of the engine, but he sensed that she wouldn’t speak. She would want to take it all in. If there was one thing he’d realized about his assistant, it was that she was curious. And when it came to Ochoa Vineyards, he was happy to indulge her.
After they had looped around the entire original vineyard, he brought the ATV to a stop beside a grove of trees that had at one time been the boundary marker for the two vineyards that his father and uncle had combined.
He turned off the engine and it took a few seconds for his ears to adjust to the sound of silence. Soaking in the peace and quiet, he gave them all the time they needed before he turned on the seat to face her and found her eyes shining.
“It’s pretty, sí?”
“Pretty doesn’t even begin to describe it. It’s huge and open.” She shook her head as if bemused. “It’s fabulous.”
He laughed before motioning for her to climb off the ATV. “I don’t think anybody’s ever called the vineyard fabulous.”
“Well, somebody should, because it’s remarkable.” She didn’t make a move to dismount, just looked around as if unable to get her fill. “It’s so green.”
“What did you expect?”
“I thought I’d see purple.” She laughed. “You know. Grapes. Purple.”
“Actually, you’d see red—in July and August.”
“Your grapes are red?”
“Most of them. Right now everything is green. Sucking up minerals from the soil.”
“How very technical of you.”
She got off the ATV, still gazing around.
He shifted his weight to the side and hoisted himself off, then grabbed the picnic basket. “We’re at the spot that at one time separated the two vineyards.” He pointed to the rows of grapes on the other side of the trees. “That’s the second half of Ochoa Vineyards. About a half mile away is the house Riccardo’s parents live in.”
She stared in the direction as if trying to see the house and finally turned to him. “This whole setup is designed to support two families.”
“Exactly.”
“And your dad doesn’t see the flaw in that?”
He set the basket on the ground and opened it, pulling out a blanket. “He didn’t. He does now.”
“Hmm...”
With a quick whip, he unfurled the blanket and let it drift to the rich green grass. “A question?”
She helped him straighten the edges. “No. Probably more of an observation. I wonder if sometimes you don’t scare your dad.”
He pulled a bottle of grape juice out of the basket and two wineglasses. “Scare my dad?” He chuckled. “I doubt it.”
“Oh, I’m sure he wouldn’t let you see it. But he’d have to be blind not to realize how much you do...how far ahead you can think.”
He shrugged, placed the basket in the middle of the blanket and motioned for her to sit. “Perhaps.”
She lowered herself to the spot across from him. “No perhaps about it. I’d be willing to bet a year’s salary he’s waiting for the day you boot him out of the head chair at board meetings.”
“Then he doesn’t know me well. I respect his position as eldest in his family. As long as he is alive he will be head of our household.”
“And you’ll run everything discreetly in the background.”
He laughed. “It’s what I do.”
She shook her head. “So maybe it’s not as easy having parents as I’ve always thought.”
She made the comment so casually he might have missed it if he hadn’t been working to figure out her secrets. Knowing she was a foster child, it wasn’t a stretch to understand that she probably longed for a place. So maybe she wanted another job, one with more employees—or maybe fewer employees—where she could build a “work” family. God knew he and Riccardo weren’t the two friendliest guys. They were driven. Work oriented. He’d never even as much as asked her to have a drink with him at the end of the day.
Which would have been fruitless anyway, since she didn’t drink.
He picked up the bottle of grape juice. “We make this in limited quantitie
s.”
She peered at it. “It’s not wine?”
“Nope. Just rich, delicious juice.”
She laughed. “Always selling.”
“That’s the other thing I do. I sell. I know how to get people to want what I have.”
Her face scrunched. “I never looked at it that way.”
“How else do you think you sell? By badgering people?” He batted a hand. “That only turns people off.” He caught her gaze. “You need to entice them. Seduce them.”
She stiffened ever so slightly and shifted back.
She’d pulled away from him the night before. Not because she didn’t want to be seduced, but because she did. He could feel it in her kiss. So now he would go back to selling himself—selling them. They might not be a forever match. He had too many responsibilities to be a husband. But there was no reason they couldn’t spend time together now. Especially if becoming her lover earned him enough of her trust that she’d tell him her secrets and let him help her.
He took out roast beef sandwiches, cheese and fruit and set them on the blanket between them, then he leaned across his offering, took her small chin in his fingers and brushed his lips over hers quickly, briefly, teasing her.
“I hope you like roast beef.”
“I do.”
He swore he could feel the trembling of her heart in her shivery whisper. Now that she was getting to know him, she liked him. She could no longer hide it and he intended to take full advantage of it.
He handed her a napkin and a plate.
Her eyebrows rose. “The good china?”
He shrugged. “Maybe. I just told the chef to put in nice plates.”
“They’re pretty.”
He laughed at her attempt to change the subject and brought it back to where he wanted it. “A man doesn’t seduce a woman with paper plates.” He motioned to the cheese and fruit platter. “Go on. Eat.”
She ran her tongue along her lips and the thrill of victory raced through Mitch’s blood. He could take her right here. Right now. But he wanted to do this correctly. Short term didn’t mean shortchange. Their affair would be passionate. Perfect.
He poured the juice, handed a glass to her. “Have you ever tried wine?”
* * *
Her gaze shot to his. Everything he’d done that day had begun to weave a connection between them. So he could seduce her. She wasn’t so inexperienced that she didn’t see that, and a hum had started in her heart and radiated out to every part of her. Not because the man of her crush suddenly wanted her. But because the Mitch she was getting to know—the nice guy, the strong man who took over his family business without deposing his dad, the man who loved his nanna and went to extraordinary lengths to make sure the brother who stole his girlfriend had a good wedding—because that guy wanted her.
“No. I’ve never tried wine.”
“Maybe tonight?” He smiled. His lips tipped up. His eyes filled with warmth. He wanted her to share something that was important to him.
Temptation crept up on her. Not in a bad way, but as a curiosity. Her entire life had been lived waiting for the day she would find her mom, rebuild her family. Now, realizing that dream wouldn’t happen, everything was open to her. Was it so wrong to want a real relationship with Mitch? To share his world? The product he was so proud of? If she tried all the things she’d stayed away from, would she actually find herself? Her real self?
She closed her eyes, pulled in a breath. She’d never been more real than she was in that moment. She was on a blanket with a man she was growing to love. Not for his looks. Not for his money. Not for some stupid daydream. But for him. And like it or not, she had a past. She couldn’t pretend she didn’t. Couldn’t pretend she could drink wine and act as if nothing mattered.
Who she was at this very second was real Lila. And if he wanted her, he had to take all of her.
When she opened her eyes, she said, “I don’t drink because my mother is an alcoholic.”
Mitch’s face scrunched in confusion. “Your mother was an alcoholic?”
“My mother is an alcoholic. She’s alive, I think, living in New York City. I was taken away from her when I was ten. Before I started working with you, I’d been trying to find her.”
“That’s why you don’t drink?”
She nodded. “Alcoholism can be inherited. I spent too many horrible days and nights as a child to risk it.”
* * *
Even though she made it all sound so simple, a million things bombarded Mitch’s brain. She’d been raised by foster parents, taken away from her mom, probably because of her mom’s drinking. He knew that had to be part of why she didn’t want to talk about her time in foster care. Other kids in her situation didn’t have parents. She’d had one who hadn’t been able to care for her and had lost custody.
Had she longed for her mom? Wished her mom would sober up? Been disappointed a million times?
What a horrible childhood that must have been.
His heart hurt for her. He balanced his glass on the lid of the picnic basket so he could put his hands on her shoulders. They drifted down along her arms, soothing her. “I’m so sorry.”
“You asked me once if I’d ever done anything stupid. Well, I have. When I was ten I told the social worker that my mom slept a lot. I showed her an empty whiskey bottle I’d pulled from the trash. She put it all together and within twenty-four hours I was in a foster home.”
And she blamed herself.
He didn’t believe it was possible to feel any worse for her, but here he was stunned and aching for her. His hands slid from her forearms to her fingers. He caught them up and squeezed.
“That must have been awful.”
She met his gaze. “Do you know how horrible it is to feel like you did something terribly, terribly wrong when you were only trying to protect yourself?”
His feelings worsened. Not only had she lost her mom and blamed herself, but there was an ache to it. She had been a scared, maybe hungry child, trying to protect herself and instead she’d lost her mom.
He shook his head. “I’m so sorry you went through that.” He tried to reconcile beautiful Lila sitting beside him with mousy Lila who had worked for him for a year and little Lila who had lost her mom, and suddenly everything about her made sense. She didn’t accent her beauty or call attention to herself in any way because the last time she had, she’d lost the most important thing in her world. Her mom.
But even as he thought that, he realized something else. She might have been taken away from her mom, but she hadn’t actually lost her permanently.
He squeezed her hands again. “So your mom is alive? In New York?”
She pulled in a breath and caught his gaze with her pale gray eyes. “The last I heard, she was alive. But I don’t know where she is. Private investigators cost more than I can afford for a sustained period of time. It seems that when I hire one who finds her, she somehow disappears.”
He almost couldn’t bear to hear that, didn’t want to process it, but he had to. While she was talking to him, he also had to be brutally honest. “Do you think she doesn’t want you to contact her?”
“I didn’t think that.” She caught his gaze. “Until I came here. Met your family.” She shrugged and looked away. “I don’t know. Somehow it all came together in my head. That a mom who wanted me in her life wouldn’t run every time I found her.”
And it was killing her. Grasping for straws, he said, “Maybe she’s still drinking? Maybe she doesn’t want you to see her like that? Or maybe she believes you wouldn’t want her in your life?”
Her spine stiffened. “She might have trouble acclimating or she might be finding better jobs, better places to live, pulling herself up by her bootstraps. Improving her life. I know that’s not easy. But when someone spends money to find yo
u, you have to know she wants you in her life.”
His chest filled with sadness. “I suppose.”
She said, “Don’t feel bad. It took me three days before the truth sank in. But it’s in and I’m okay with it.”
She might be resigned, but he felt awful. Well and truly awful. This was why she hadn’t wanted to talk about her past. It was also why she wanted a job with more money. She’d wanted to find her mom. But being with his family had forced her to face the truth that maybe her mom didn’t want her.
He looked around at the two vineyards that made up his family’s estate. Rolling hills. Grapevines. Houses. Limos. A jet.
She probably thought the entire Ochoa clan was spoiled, selfish, except for Nanna. She probably also had no idea how her story had affected him. Broken his heart for her. But he suspected that if she knew he felt sorry for her it would make her angry.
The sound of an ATV drowned out the swish, swish, swish of the grapevine leaves shivering in the breeze. His head snapped up and he peered at the vehicle, trying to figure out the driver. When he realized it was Julia, he had to stifle a groan.
She roared her ATV up to their blanket. “Here you are!”
Tired of her antics and bad timing, he said, “What do you want, Julia?”
“I think your fiancée forgot the bachelorette party I planned.”
“For yourself? You planned your own bachelorette party?”
She smiled prettily. “I had to make sure I got what I wanted. So I told the girls to leave it to me.” She looked at Lila. “But you were gone when we came to pick you up.”
Mitch started to say, “She’s busy right now.”
But Lila touched his arm to stop him, as she addressed Julia. “Drive me back. Give me ten minutes to change and we can go.”
Always happy to get her own way, Julia beamed.
Lila gave him a sad smile. “You don’t mind gathering all this stuff up by yourself.”
He studied her face. Knew she was leaving because what she’d told him had been difficult for her and the outcome hadn’t been what either had expected.
