Mischief sparkled in his eyes. “Christened it yet?”
She struggled to catch her breath as memories pulsed through her. “No.”
“Want to?”
Her skin flushed hot all over. “Yes, but not tonight.”
“I take it this wasn’t a vacation home?” he asked as she backtracked to the opposite side of the house.
“No. My grandparents were older and they’d given up on having children when my dad, a late-in-life surprise baby, arrived. As soon as he was old enough to take over Holt Enterprises my grandparents retired here and left my father in charge.”
“They moved halfway across the country and left him to sink or swim in the shark-infested waters of the magazine publishing business?”
“Yes. My grandfather believed experience was the best teacher of all. He always claimed you learned more from failure than success.”
“Tough guy.”
“Great guy. He taught me that failure wasn’t something to fear.” The words stalled in Aubrey’s brain, a forgotten lesson recalled. She’d been so caught up in trying to please her father since being foisted upon him that she’d forgotten the lessons of her youth.
She shoved the thought back in its hiding place for later examination, retrieved Liam’s computer bag from where she’d left it at the top of the stairs and indicated he follow. “This side of the house contains the mint suite, the grape suite and my room, the rose suite.”
She led the way into her room and set his computer on the dresser.
“Roses are your favorite flower.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes. How did you guess?”
He came up behind her, circled her waist with his hands and pulled her against him. She leaned into his warmth, and when he touched his lips to the juncture of her neck and shoulder, she shivered. “Because you always smell like roses.”
Aroused despite her long day and restless night, Aubrey turned in his arms, but the pallor of Liam’s skin cooled her ardor. She lightly touched her lips to his and then drew back. “Get naked and grab a towel. I’ll show you the greenhouse and hot tub. Bathroom’s that way.”
Liam rolled over in bed, reaching for Aubrey. He found cool sheets instead. Déjà vu. And not a pleasant one, either.
He flopped back on his pillow, surprised at the glitch in his pulse, and he realized his reaction—overreaction—to Aubrey’s absence didn’t bode well for his plan to say goodbye at the end of the week. His ears picked up the murmur of her voice through the open bedroom door. She was talking to someone somewhere in this huge colonial house. Relief loosened his knotted muscles.
Her voice drew nearer. “Thank you, Mason. That’s great. We’ll see you tomorrow at eight. Bye.”
She walked through the bedroom door with a cordless phone in her hand and the skirt of her burgundy dress swirling around her legs. “Good, you’re awake, sleepyhead.”
“You’re already dressed.” He’d awakened with his usual hard-on. Her soft smile and mile-long legs instantly made him harder. He patted the bed and she glided forward and perched on the edge of the mattress.
“My body clock’s still on New York time. I have plans for you today.” She leaned down and gently nuzzled his lips. “Last night was nice.”
Last night after a quick tour of the downstairs and a long soak in the hot tub they’d fallen into bed exhausted and cuddled until falling asleep. A first for him. He’d never spent the night just holding a woman and surprisingly he’d liked it. Around daybreak Aubrey had awakened him with tender strokes along his spine. He’d rolled over and she’d kissed him softly, which had segued into lazy, slow sex. The gentleness of their lovemaking had blindsided him.
How can you live without that?
Guess you’ll find out.
He combed his fingers through her silky hair. “Remind me how nice.”
She laughed and pulled away, but a blush painted her cheeks. “Later. Get up and get dressed. I’ve made reservations for us on the Wine Train. It’s a totally touristy thing to do, but fun. We’ll begin with a wine tasting at the depot and then lunch during a slow train ride north past twenty-six wineries. In Yountville we’ll disembark for a tour of a winery that produces sparkling wine, and then we’ll have dessert on the return trip south. Tomorrow you’ll get a personally guided tour of both the Louret and Ashton estates from Mason Sheppard. And then on Friday, I’m taking you on a tour of the local brandy distillery. I’ve never been there, but I’ve heard you can get drunk from breathing the air.”
Aubrey often had that effect on him. Like now, for instance. He threw back the covers, enjoying her gasp at the sight of his erection. “You’ve been busy. Are you sure we don’t have a few minutes?”
She dampened her lips with a slow sweep of her pink tongue and flexed her fingers as if contemplating touching him, tasting him. The need to have those long, slender fingers and those sweet lips on him right now nearly strangled him. But she stepped out of reach before he could drag her deeper into the bed.
“We have to check in by ten-thirty, Liam. Get moving. Breakfast is waiting downstairs.”
“Later, then.” He rose, cupped her nape and then he kissed her thoroughly, relishing the softness of her lips and the slickness of her tongue. She tasted of cinnamon rolls and coffee. When he lifted his head a flush colored her cheeks, her lips were damp and his heart thumped violently. “Good morning.”
Waking up to Aubrey felt good. Too good. But the alarm bells that should have been clanging in his subconscious were suspiciously silent.
Was he in love? Couldn’t be. He’d been in love twice in college and both times had been miserable, tense and angst-ridden affairs. He hadn’t been able to eat, sleep or study. While Aubrey made him harder than stone on a regular basis, she was also comfortable, exciting and yet restful. He enjoyed being with her, and he didn’t have to tiptoe around overly sensitive feelings.
Nah, this wasn’t love. It was just a damned good time. Too bad it couldn’t last.
“You’ve done this before?” Liam swiveled his seat on the lounge car of the Wine Train to face Aubrey’s.
The only thing better than enjoying her favorite part of California was sharing it with Liam. “Dozens of times. My grandmother took me on my first train ride up the valley when I was six or seven. I try to ride each time I return to Napa, which isn’t nearly often enough.”
“Then you’ve seen all this before.” His sweeping gesture encompassed the exquisite mahogany paneling, the crystal chandeliers overhead and the vineyards outside the train’s windows.
“Not through your eyes. Seeing you soak up every detail of the vintage rail cars and the valley reminds me of a child on Christmas morning. Your enthusiasm is contagious.”
He took her hand in his. “Having you around has been an amazing gift.”
There he went again, reminding her that this idyllic period would end. Despite the depressing reminder, she realized she hadn’t seen Liam this relaxed or happy back in New York. “Have you ever considered leaving EPH?”
His smile vanished. “No.”
“Does anyone in your family work outside the company?”
“My cousin Bryan never worked for EPH and several of my relatives, including my sister, have left the company this year.” His voice had hardened. “Patrick’s selection process is driving them away, and he’s too damned stubborn to admit it.”
She hated spoiling his mood, and hearing the details of EPH left her conflicted. While she’d like to understand his problems and perhaps help him solve them, knowing meant piling on guilt for not relaying the very information her father had requested.
“Liam, maybe you should consider leaving, too. Estates out here aren’t easy to come by because Hollywood types snatch them up in a hurry, but maybe you could find one and try your hand at winemaking. There are more than two hundred wineries in Napa Valley and most of them are privately owned.”
“I can’t leave EPH.”
“Can’t or won’t?”
<
br /> “Either. Both. Take your pick.”
That looked like yearning in his eyes, but Aubrey decided not to push. When and if Liam was ready to pursue his dream, he’d do so voluntarily. She changed the subject. “I love the area and I have a lot of happy memories of spending time with my grandmother at Hill Crest. My father leases the acreage surrounding the house to another vineyard, so there’s always some activity on the property, but the place is peaceful. It’s off the main roads, but not so far off that no one can find it. When things get really bad at work, I dream about turning the estate into a bed-and-breakfast.”
She bit her lip, not believing she’d just confessed her deepest secret, one she’d not shared with anyone. Liam wasn’t the only one who kept secrets from his friends and family.
“Why don’t you?” he asked quietly.
“Same old, same old. I owe my father.”
“When will that debt be paid?”
His question hit too close to home. Aubrey had begun to believe that no matter what she did it would never be enough for her father. “When will yours? If you’re unhappy at EPH, then maybe you should move on.”
“Back at you.”
“I can’t.” She hesitated. What did she have to lose by telling the truth? “My father never wanted a daughter. Not before he and my mother divorced and certainly not afterward. When he found out about the incident with my stepfather, I heard him ask his assistant what he was supposed to do with a teenage girl. And then he said, ‘If she’d been the son I needed, this wouldn’t be a problem.’”
Liam swore, low and succinctly. “So you’ve what? Been trying to be the son he wanted?”
“I’ve been trying to be the savvy executive he thinks a son would have been.” A sad smile quivered on her lips. “We’re a sorry pair, aren’t we? Unhappy where we are, but unwilling to make the sacrifices to change our lot.”
“Change is…” He shrugged and turned back to the window to study a palatial home as the train passed.
“Scary,” she finished for him.
“Risky and selfish. There are too many people to disappoint, including myself.”
Liam summed up her feelings well. She didn’t want to disappoint her father and she didn’t want to disappoint herself by quitting before she proved her worthiness to him.
She wasn’t the son he’d wanted. So what? But she was damned good at her job. And she wanted him to notice. Just once. And then she could move on.
Nine
“It’s beautiful,” Aubrey said from the passenger seat.
Liam, drawn by the wistful tone of her voice, glanced at her as he guided the car down the long driveway. He didn’t know whether her comment referred to The Vines, the main house at Louret Vineyards, the steeply roofed two-story winery to the west of the residence or the property as a whole.
“Absolutely breathtaking.” He meant her, not the buildings or the land. Would he ever tire of looking at Aubrey, of making love to her, of just plain being with her? What if he didn’t? How could he return home and pretend she didn’t live just around the corner? But if he didn’t, he’d be out of a job.
After yesterday’s train ride she’d taken him to another out-of-the-way restaurant for dinner and then surprised him with a charter plane flight over Napa Valley. The pilot had flown the length of the wine country and then circled back over the California coast and the Point Reyes National Seashore on the return trip. Watching the sunset over the Pacific had been spectacular. It was the first time he’d seen the sunset with no skyscrapers to block the view, and he’d watched until the big orange ball sank into the deep blue ocean.
Liam parked the car and, following the signs for the tasting room and store, guided Aubrey across the winery’s large porch. He stepped inside and stopped. Like a kid in a candy shop he scanned the bottles lining the walls, searching for his favorites or something new to try.
“May I help you?” asked a woman about Aubrey’s height, build and coloring asked from behind a long, high counter. And then she stepped from behind the wine-tasting bar, revealing a heavily pregnant belly.
What would Aubrey look like pregnant? The shocking thought locked Liam’s jaws and seized his lungs.
Where had that come from?
Aubrey shot a curious glance his way when he remained mute and then she moved forward, extending her hand. “Hello. I’m Aubrey Holt and this is Liam Elliott. Mason Sheppard is expecting us.”
“I’m Jillian Ashton-Bennedict. It’s nice to meet you. Your magazine’s story on Mason’s return to the U.S. was great.”
“I’ll be sure to pass your compliment on to the writer.”
“I’ll assist you with the wine tasting after you’ve finished the Louret half of your tour, because I’m guessing you’re not interested in samples at eight in the morning.” Her green eyes sparkled with laughter.
Liam found his voice. “No, but we will be later. I have a few Louret favorites, and I’d prefer not to leave without ordering a case or two. Thanks for working us in before your regular tour hours.”
“No problem. I’ll be happy to help you with your selections when you’re ready. Let me call Mason and tell him you’re here. He and Darby arrived a few minutes ago.” She went behind the counter to use the phone.
He led Aubrey a few yards away to the racks of chardonnay on the wall. “Who’s Darby?”
“Darby Quinn, former child actress and now Mason Sheppard’s wife. Her story made headlines earlier this year when she and Mason moved back to the States from France.”
“I vaguely remember something about that. I’m not into the Hollywood scene.”
“I know. You’re into sports, finance and wine.” Her fingers squeezed his, but her tender smile reached far deeper inside him.
“You think we have it bad in the family lottery. Years ago Darby’s mother wrote a tell-all book that painted Darby as a bitch-slash-prima-donna and ruined her acting career. Darby tried to tell the press her side of the story, but no one believed her, especially with her own mother calling her a liar. Eventually, Darby was forced into hiding. And then she literally ran into Mason on a road here in Napa, and she didn’t want to hide anymore. She went back to France with him, and while Mason finished his enology studies, they worked together to convince other child stars to come forward and admit that their former manager—who also happened to be Darby’s wicked stepfather and former manager—had abused them, too.
“Getting the facts out in the open was a vindication of sorts since Darby had been telling the truth all along. Those she trusted had betrayed her, but the truth set her free by allowing her to return to the States with Mason and to live openly as his wife without the press crucifying her at every turn. Now everyone is speculating about whether she’ll return to acting.”
Aubrey was a romantic, Liam realized. She had stars in her eyes as she told her fairy tale of a knight coming to a maiden’s rescue. He wished he could be Aubrey’s knight and rescue her from the job she hated and a father who didn’t love her enough.
A big blond guy in jeans and a chambray shirt and a petite blond woman in a vintage-style dress, also noticeably pregnant, came toward them. “Welcome. I’m Mason Sheppard and this is my wife, Darby. Aubrey tells me you’re into winemaking.”
Liam offered his hand. “Liam Elliott and this is Aubrey Holt. I’ve read everything I can get my hands on about enology, but I’ve never tried it.”
“Are you thinking of relocating and starting a winery in Napa?” Mason asked.
Darby smiled. “The valley’s a great place for new beginnings. I started over here and look what I found.”
Merry blue eyes indicated the man at her side and her hand patted her rounded belly. Mason’s hand covered hers and the loving look the two exchanged brought a lump to Liam’s throat.
Starting over in Napa appealed to him more than it should have. Possibly when he retired…But that day seemed far off. Too far. “One of these days.”
With a sweep of his hand Mason indicated the do
or through which he’d entered. “Let’s get started. When we finish here we’ll head over to Ashton Estates for a tour of their facility. We’ve merged Louret and Ashton in many ways under the Kindred Estates umbrella, but because of brand recognition we still carry our old trademarks as well as the new one, and we still have our own production facilities, because frankly we need both to keep up with demand. Aubrey warned me not to hold back on the technical side of the process because she says you’re up to it, so if I go too fast or if you have questions, stop me.”
Surprised, Liam’s gaze found Aubrey’s. She’d made sure he received more than the generic spiel offered to tourists. She looked out for him, giving him more than he would have dared hope for. Here and in New York. In bed and out.
Aubrey Holt was perfect for him in so many ways.
He didn’t want to let her go.
Ever.
But what choice did he have?
A crushing sensation hit him square in the chest, as if a full wine cask had fallen on him. Liam couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move, couldn’t speak as realization dawned.
He’d fallen in love with the enemy’s daughter.
Liam hadn’t looked at or touched Aubrey since their tour began almost four hours ago. The absolute silence between them sent a frisson down Aubrey’s spine. And the distance. She nibbled her bottom lip in confusion. They stood only a foot apart on the Ashton winery patio, but she might as well have been back in New York.
A tall, dark haired man cradling an infant in a frilly pink romper separated himself from the group gathering on the far side of the patio. Judging by the balloons, flowers and piled gifts Aubrey suspected somebody must be celebrating a birthday.
Mason extended a hand to the newcomer. “Liam and Aubrey, meet my brother-in-law Jared Maxwell. He’s married to my half sister, Mercedes, and today is Mercedes’s birthday. They’re setting up for a surprise party.”
Darby took the baby from Jared and snuggled her. “And this cutie pie princess is Chloe. When Jared’s not playing Mr. Mom, he runs a string of bed-and-breakfasts in the valley. I take it you have some news of your wife’s arrival?” she asked without taking her gaze off the baby.
Dynasties:The Elliots, Books 7-12 Page 57
