Mel seemed just as mystified, but the eagerness in her eyes said she was enjoying the experience. Movement on the sloping lawns caught his eye and he squinted at the odd lumps on the otherwise velvet grass.
"Oh, look, Luce, more ring-necks," Mel said, pointing at the lumps. One of them raised its head and revealed that it was indeed a bird and not part of the grass at all. Melodious bird laughter carried on the breeze from the trees at the bottom of the hill and all five camouflaged birds raised their heads to answer the ringing call before taking flight to join them. Mel cuddled closer to him, still smiling as they walked arm in arm along the path to the building hidden behind the trees and huge hedges.
A sign for the toilets caught Mel's eye next and she excused herself to make use of the facilities. So Luce walked alone into the winery and took a seat on a convenient couch by the flickering fire.
When Mel eventually entered the room, she glanced around but didn't seem to see him. Luce watched her approach the bar with an uncertain smile on her face.
"Tasting today?" the girl behind the bar asked, flipping a wine glass onto the polished jarrah at Mel's nod. "What do you like?"
Milkshakes. Chocolate. Red wine. Tea. Those bloody green parrots that kept laughing at him. Those big, pink, star-shaped flowers with the strong smell. He should get some flowers for her. Maybe that would make her smile, and make up for the mess he'd made of the day. He slipped outside and called Mephi.
"Good afternoon, Mr Iblis."
"Mephi, do you remember last Valentine's Day, when I got flowers for Mel?"
"Yes, Mr Iblis. You purchased some sort of orchids, I remember. They were beautiful." Did he catch a note of approval in her voice?
"I need more flowers for her, but something different this time. She had...someone else sent her pink flowers. They smelled. They were the cheapest flowers in the florist I went to, but she insisted they had an alluring scent and whoever bought them knew they were her favourite. Do you know what they were?" He could hear his own desperation, but he didn't care.
"I...I'm not sure I remember, Mr Iblis."
"Ask someone on Reception or that snippy archangel she worked with. Someone must have seen them when they were delivered. Someone has to remember!"
"One moment, Mr Iblis." Mephi's calm voice was replaced by piano music. On hold. Oh, could his day get worse? After the fifth rendition of the same tune, Mephi rescued him. "I spoke to Merih. He said she only had roses and orchids. They stayed by her desk all week."
Luce gritted his teeth. "No, she had pink flowers on the day. I saw her leave with them. They had...the paper around them had a sticker with the logo from the plaza florist. Ask them what pink flowers they sold on Valentine's Day that smelled."
"Yes, Mr Iblis."
He ground his teeth through a tortuous seven renditions of the same dull song before it ended.
"Mr Iblis, the only scented flowers she sold were called Asiatic liliums. A young woman came in and bought them all."
Mel had a female admirer? So she'd enchanted not just the male demons but the female ones, too? Or were they from an angel?
"She said the young woman bought some chocolates, too. Both the flowers and the chocolates were ordered by mistake and she had no space in the cool room for them, so she was at a loss for what to do with them when the young woman walked in, bought the lot and solved all her problems for the day. Like an angel, she said she was."
Not a demon. Definitely an angel. But who?
Luce remembered the archangel who'd seized a handful of Mel's chocolates – the same one who'd told him to go to Hell instead of taking Mel on holiday. The one who'd dragged Mel away from him at the office Christmas picnic.
Damn it. When he got home, he'd hunt her down and tell her to leave him and Mel alone.
But for now..."Mephi, find somewhere in Margaret River or nearby who has them and have a huge bunch delivered to our accommodation. Today if you can, but tomorrow at the latest. With a vase, because I'm not sure our apartment has one. And a card." He swallowed, not wanting to say the words aloud.
"What would you like written on the card, Mr Iblis?"
He had to. If there wasn't a card, she might think the flowers were from that angel instead of him. His voice died to a whisper. "For my sweet angel. Love Luce."
To his shock, Mephi didn't laugh – or sound horrified by his weakness. In fact, her voice softened. "I'll see to it, Mr Iblis."
He breathed a sigh of relief and returned to his seat by the fire, where he could watch his sweet angel lose herself in the smell and taste of each savoured sip.
"Would you like to try the Art Series Riesling or would you like to move straight to the reds?" the girl behind the bar asked, glancing at the bottles in her hands.
Mel requested the reds before drinking deeply from her glass of water. While the white wines had all demonstrated complex flavours culminating in a smooth finish, none had been to her taste. Perhaps it was the soils here – or the years, or the selection...she sighed. She was looking for the white she'd shared with Luce, but she couldn't remember any more than the fact that the wine had been from here. Her heart had been too full of sorrow at saying goodbye. But none of these tasted right – plus she wanted a bottle of red to share with him tonight, not white.
Nodding to the girl's description of the shiraz in her glass, Mel swirled the liquid around, inhaling deeply. Mulberries. Red currants. And a touch of the eucalypts that must grow near the grapevines. She sipped with her eyes closed, holding the wine in her mouth, before lifting her chin to allow it to trickle down her throat as she swallowed. The pepper and oak burned her throat on the way down. No. This one was too spicy for her taste. She tipped the contents of her glass into the spittoon and rinsed both the glass and her mouth liberally with water. A waiter whose muscled arms bulged in his black sleeves said something quietly to the girl, who nodded gravely.
"Next is the Art Series Shiraz..." The girl poured and lowered her voice. "I don't mean to alarm you, but Serge says there's a man who hasn't stopped staring at you since you came in and he looks...dangerous. He said the man went outside to make a phone call, but he kept looking back inside. He's on the sofa by the fire now and he's looking at you like...like you killed his whole family and today he'll have his vengeance, Serge says."
Oh, not the security guard from the caves. She'd only touched his girlfriend – not hurt her. But if she'd mentioned Luce frightening her, Mel would need to somehow send him away before he spotted Luce. Mel started to turn and the alarmed girl grabbed her arm.
"No! Please...if you look at him, he might come over here and even Serge says he looks scary. When you're finished tasting, Serge offered to walk you out to your car. He's a waiter, but he's learning to be a personal trainer and he...well, he's...you know." The girl blushed as she curled her bicep in imitation of Serge's.
Intrigued, Mel went through the motions of sampling the remaining reds, but now she knew she was under scrutiny, it was an effort to swallow a thing, let alone taste the nuances of the well-aged wines. Sighing, she thanked the girl and turned to go.
"Wait. He's still staring at you. I'll distract him and as soon as he's looking the other way, you sneak out with Serge."
Staring sounded more like Luce than the security guard, whose scrutiny would surely be more covert. Mel was dying to turn and see if her audience really was Luce, but if he wasn't and the man intended to harm her, best if she was outside with fewer witnesses. She watched the girl box up several expensive bottles of wine. The girl winked and walked around the bar, swinging the box at her side.
"Here you are, sir. That will be one hundred and eighty-three dollars," she heard the girl say.
"Now!" Serge hissed, placing an arm lightly around Mel so he could propel her faster out of the cellar door. Together, they hurried down the steps. "Which is your car?" he asked, scanning the car park.
Mel pointed at Luce's black Jaguar. "That one. But I don't have the keys – my partner does. And I haven't seen h
im since we arrived."
Luce exploded through a shrub. "Mel? Are you all right? You ran out and I thought –"
Serge edged forward, placing himself between Mel and Luce. Mel recognised it as a gallant attempt to protect her, but one that would only end badly for the personal trainer-in-training.
"I wondered why you didn't join me for tasting, my love," she said, marching to Luce's side, where she claimed a kiss.
He chuckled. "Watching you abandon yourself to each taste was way better than drinking the stuff myself. The way you lift your closed eyes to Heaven as you lose yourself in your own private world of sensation...bloody Hell, I wanted to take you up against that bar, right then and there, and to Hell with anyone watching." Evidently Luce was the staff's mystery man – watching her with an intensity that they'd found frightening.
Mel couldn't help blushing. She turned to the confused waiter. "Thank you for walking me to my car. With my partner here, I'm sure I'll be fine now. Please...please tell your friend that I'm thankful for her kindness. And yours."
Mel's eyes followed the man back inside, but Luce's gaze was firmly fixed on her. As they climbed into his car, he asked, "Nothing you liked in there? Fair enough. Where to next?"
Mel glanced at the map and named a winery she'd never heard of that was along their route home. She hoped they'd have something suitable.
Fifteen minutes later, Luce pulled into the parking lot of the next winery.
So there'd be no misunderstandings here, Mel kept a firm hand on his arm. She didn't want anyone making the same mistake again. There was nothing wrong with the way Luce stared at her, because they were together and...
She almost missed her mouth with the wineglass. Had he truly been staring that intently at her in the previous place? Like he was breathless with lust from just looking at her? She felt naked, exposed, as if he'd caught her doing something incredibly personal in public. What was she doing that he found so erotic?
"So which ones did you like best?" the man at the tasting bar asked.
Mel swallowed the last of the dessert wine and stared at the list of wines she'd drunk, but couldn't remember the taste of a single one. "I...I don't know," she said softly, staring at the floor to hide her flushing cheeks.
Luce's arm snaked around her waist. "Well, if none of these are your favourite, we'll try somewhere else." He nodded his thanks at the man and led Mel outside. She exhaled gratefully as the stiff breeze cooled her cheeks.
The next winery was no better – nor the next, though they stopped at a few places along the way that sold food, too. The more she drank, the more Mel wanted to give in to the invitation in Luce's eyes, but the less she tasted of the wines she was supposed to be selecting. Where was the point in sampling them when she wasn't really focussing on the wines at all? Finally, she said, "I'm tired, Luce. Please...can we just go home?"
She couldn't meet his hurt eyes as he asked, "Home? You mean the loft here, my apartment in Perth or your little house?" The forlorn note in his voice tugged at her heart.
"I meant the loft. Where it's just us."
"Sure." He grinned and led the way back to the car.
Mel drowsed as he drove, stroking his thigh absently. Surely he wasn't tensing up under her touch. Did he think she'd hurt him? Or was it her weakness – he didn't want her starting something he didn't think they could finish, because her soul was still exhausted? She'd seen how her strength turned him on – perhaps her vulnerability did the opposite. In her heart, she knew no one could help her recover like Luce could – but he had to be willing. Or it could be too soon.
She sighed deeply and watched the modern terracotta building swing into sight behind the trees. Fumbling around in the footwell for her purchases, she realised she'd bought fruit, vegetables, cheese and other produce, but not the bottle of wine they were looking for. Mel glanced at her watch. The cellar door downstairs closed in fifteen minutes – surely she could find something there. Only...not if she was feeling self-conscious as her thoughts drifted to far more pleasurable things than wine.
Luce opened her car door for her and leaned in to take her bundles from her, or so she thought. Instead, he seized her – oranges, jam, venison and all – swinging her easily into his arms to carry up the stairs.
Mel cried out as her leg muscle seized in an agonising spasm. The combination of so many stairs and then sitting too long, surely.
"Oh God, what is it? Did I hurt you?" The surrounding temperature dropped five degrees as Luce summoned the energy to heal whatever was wrong.
Mel glanced around. They weren't alone in the car park – some wine tasters were loading their car. Well, they had been until she'd yelped. Now they were standing by their car and looking worried, as if they wondered whether they should intervene. "No, just...just put me down. A muscle cramp, that's all. I should walk it off."
The pain eased as her feet hit the gravel. She felt Luce pry her purchases from her arms before she opened her eyes and took a cautious step. Better.
"There's no hurry," Luce said softly, concern creasing his features.
"How about you take everything upstairs and make a start on dinner? I'll get us a bottle of wine and then I'll be right up to help you." Mel slowly made her way to the stone steps. Only three, she told herself as she clamped her mouth shut to tackle them. Mildly painful, but not unbearable. When they reached the grass at the top, she released Luce's arm and kissed him lightly. "Trust me. I promise I won't get the chili one."
That did it. Of course he trusted her and he knew his reluctance would look like distrust. Mel watched Luce climb the stairs and he looked like he was just as unaccustomed to today's climbing marathon as she was. She couldn't wait to stroke the tension out of those muscles in the spa.
But first...the wine.
The door squeaked open and Mel smiled at Greg, for they were alone. He looked appraisingly at her, but he waited until she stood at the tasting bar before he broke the silence.
"Is everything all right upstairs?"
Oh, cleverly done, Mel thought. It was both an invitation to ask for fresh towels or spill her troubles. She intended to do both.
"Mmm, everything upstairs is wonderful." She let her bliss infuse her voice. "We might need fresh towels tomorrow, though. They dry so slowly in this weather and with the spa, we do use a few." She laughed gently. "And there's the small matter of a bottle of wine for tonight. We've been all over the place, tasting every red on offer, but I couldn't find something suitable for tonight. I really wanted something special."
He set a tasting glass on the bar beside her. "I have two new ones we just bottled this week – I only brought them up here this afternoon. They won't go on sale until tomorrow, when I bring some more cases up, but I could spare you a bottle or two of each tonight, if you like them."
Mel agreed and watched the liquid cascade into her glass.
She took her time tasting these, listening to the vintner's descriptions of each bottle's history. One tingled on her tongue and she reached for her glass again, just to make sure she'd tasted right. "Raspberries," she breathed. What was it about raspberries that made even the hint of the taste of them an aphrodisiac?
Greg grinned. "You like that one?"
"Oh yes. I think I'd like two...no, make it three. Three bottles for now, please, and a case in the morning." She winked. "But not too early. I hope you don't intend to stay back late tonight."
He produced three bottles, boxed them up for her, and processed her payment.
Mel sighed happily as she hugged the box to her chest.
"Enjoy your evening," he drawled with a knowing grin.
Mel thought of Luce waiting for her upstairs. "Oh, I will."
"Ohhh, that feels good," Mel groaned as blissful heat engulfed her.
Across the apartment, Luce drove all his guilt into the bottle opener, grinding it into the cork. It was his fault her legs were aching and she wouldn't let him heal her. He should never have taken her to the cave – it didn't matter h
ow pretty the underground lake was. Hell, it wasn't as if they'd been allowed to swim in it, like the one back in his lair in the depths of Hell. All that wine tasting and she'd only liked one bottle of wine – one! – and they'd wasted all afternoon sniffing, sipping, swirling, swallowing and spitting. The shiraz in his hands was from the cellar door downstairs, or they'd have had nothing to drink tonight.
"I'm sorry," he found himself saying, "so sorry for stuffing up today. I couldn't do anything right. I'll make it up to you tomorrow, I swear. We can go out for breakfast and the rest of the day is up to you – whatever you want to do. Seeing as I'm hopeless at planning activities, you choose. I'm so sorry, Mel."
"Luce, come here," she said softly.
Hesitantly, he crossed the floor until he stood directly behind her on the tiles by the spa. The bubbles hid her body and her face was turned away from him. He'd earned it, he knew. He didn't deserve her attention. What a monumental mess he'd made of what was supposed to be a relaxing holiday for her.
She tilted her head back, so he could see her sweet smile and sympathetic eyes. "No. Come join me in the spa, my love. No clothes needed – though it would be nice if you brought the wine."
Three strides carried him back to the table. He gathered up the bottle and glasses and presented them to Mel. She placed the glasses carefully on the tiled ledge by the window and proceeded to pour the wine. Lifting a filled glass to her lips, she turned to face Luce. Her breasts floated tantalisingly among the bubbles. "Please join me."
Holiday From Hell Page 10
