A Kiss of Cabernet

by Pamela Gibson

  Just thinking about that “talk” made her stomach wrench.

  “He told you?”

  “Of course he told me.”

  “I’ve been afraid to face him. He misses Manuel.”

  “He will always miss him in his heart. But I think he finally listened.”

  Paige walked briskly over to her father to thank him, but he had already turned away in the direction the workers had taken. She came back to her row to confront a curious Jake.

  “What’s up?” he asked.

  “We won’t get the entire crop picked today, but now we have a fighting chance to save some of it. That man in the floppy hat—that’s my father, and he was once the fastest harvest worker in the valley. The teenagers walking with him are his neighbors’ boys. The others are men he found somewhere… Mama said he called in a few favors. Yes, I’d say this is our lucky day, Jake.”

  He thought the sun had come back, her smile was so bright.

  They worked the rest of the morning, stopping for a sandwich in the kitchen of the main house. Jake’s ankle started to throb. He worked on, and by late afternoon the breeze had freshened. They knew they were racing the clock, but Paige estimated they could finish harvesting a good portion of the crop by the end of the day.

  At five o’clock Paige’s mother stumbled slowly back to the main house, and by six the crew appeared exhausted. The sky had darkened, and rain had started coming down harder now. The group gathered inside the barn around a large urn of coffee, brought out by Molly.

  Paige was nowhere in sight.

  “I haven’t met all of you, but I’m Jake Madison, owner of this place. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate your effort today. Paige says you saved our crop.” He walked into the group, shaking hands, just like he had on many occasions at his businesses. When he got to Paige’s father, he paused.

  “Mr. Reynoso, I’m truly honored to meet you, and I can’t thank you enough for what you did today.”

  The man gave a curt nod beneath his floppy hat, then turned and headed toward his truck where his wife was waiting. The workers he had brought with him followed.

  Rain came down in sheets now, and Jake scanned the fields, looking for Paige. He thought he spotted her in the distance, so he ambled in that direction.

  He called out to her, but his voice was muffled by the rain. He continued toward the downward slope until he saw her with a full bin at the end of a row. She had taken the farm’s tractor to haul the smaller bin of blending grapes to the barn and was climbing into the seat. The others had already been hauled off to the waiting wineries.

  “I’m through here,” she shouted. “Climb on the back of the trailer. I’ll give you a ride.”

  Jake found a spot where he could hang onto the full bin for support.

  The trip back seemed endless, and both were drenched by the time they stowed the bin. Everyone else had gone home.

  “We’ll take these to the winery tomorrow and see if they’re even usable,” said Paige, pulling the doors shut behind her. She was breathless and beaming. Her smile generated as much warmth as a solar plant.

  “My God, you’re like the aurora borealis.”

  “I’m always happy when harvest ends,” she said. “Aren’t you happy, too?”

  “To tell the truth, I’m going to collapse any second.”

  They stood looking at each other, and Jake’s fatigue disappeared. Raindrops kissed her face like dew on an open rose. Her wet clothes, molded to her skin, displayed every luscious contour and curve. She was a nymph, risen from the sea, the magnetism of her smile drawing him forward, warming him as surely as a tropical sun. He wasn’t standing in a muddy field in a Napa Valley vineyard. He was barefoot on a deserted Caribbean beach, his toes sinking in sand, watching his woman approach.

  His woman.

  The pad of his thumb caught a drop meandering down her jaw to her neck, where his lips wanted to be. Forgetting all of his good intentions, he pulled her into his arms, her breasts tight against his chest.

  She trembled against him, straining into his body. Her hair smelled like rainwater and damp earth, her body cool and supple. As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he covered her mouth with his own, letting the moment take him, forgetting about the rain that pounded around them or the breeze that had turned chilly. He wanted her. Here, now, between growing vines and fallen leaves, in the rain and the mud. Anywhere. And she wanted him, too.

  “Let’s get out of this,” he said, pulling her toward the house.

  She didn’t move, her anxious eyes searching his face.

  “This is madness, Jake.”

  “Is it?”

  She hesitated and took a deep breath, as if considering her response.

  “Come on before we drown.” He tugged at her arm.

  Nodding, she took his hand and they ran for the house.

  Chapter Fifteen

  “Roussanne is a white, fruity wine with hints of pepper and apple, good with roast chicken or for lazy sipping after a relaxing activity.”

  —from Paige Reynoso’s tasting notes

  An occasional clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. The lightning was far away now, but the rain was steady. Wind had whipped up in the afternoon, and the temperature had dropped. Staggering into the house, Paige pulled off her boots, wiping muddy hands on her soaked jeans, her emotions in turmoil.

  He’d kissed her—a bone-crushing, heart-stopping, passionate kiss that filled her with questions. Why had he done it? Didn’t he want to keep the relationship platonic? When did he change his mind? And could she keep her own emotions in check?

  She looked around, but Jake had disappeared, mumbling something about turning off the air conditioning. Was this her chance to slip away? She’d been about to go home when gentle fingers wiped the moisture from her cheeks and those tiger eyes looked deep into hers as if seeking an answer to a question he hadn’t asked. At that moment she would have said yes to anything.

  The distant rumble reminded her of the last rainstorm when his lips had made her writhe with anticipation. And then he didn’t finish it.

  Desire—hot and thick—engulfed her.

  If they began, they would finish it this time.

  Jake came into the kitchen and threw her a towel. She wiped her face and hands, not knowing what was coming next.

  “Are you hungry?” She couldn’t eat a thing, but words, even meaningless ones, filled the silence. She stood at the refrigerator, her trembling hand on the door.

  “Yes, but not for food.”

  Jake whispered the words into her ear. She moistened her lips and dropped her hands to her sides.

  You can handle this. You know you want it.

  His fingers were cool on the shoulders of her damp shirt, but his body was warm as he turned her to face him and drew her into his arms. He pulled her shirt out of her waistband, and he moved his hands up and down her back, easing the tension of the day, wrapping her in a cocoon of body heat. She sighed, snuggling closer. It was good to be held. Exhilaration warred with exhaustion, and she feared that Jake’s arms were the only reason she was still on her feet.

  She closed her eyes and drank in the scent of him as he pressed his lips to the corner of her neck. His heart beat wildly against the backdrop of the torrent outside, and his arousal pressed against her lower abdomen. She rubbed against it, wanting her fingers there.

  His mouth was inches from her face.

  “Are you okay with this?”

  “I was okay with it last time, remember?”

  His eyelashes lowered and he dropped his arms. The refrigerator was cold against her back. She swallowed and waited for him to say something.

  He is not going to back out again, is he?

  Paige held her breath in nameless agitation. When he looked up, his eyes were soft, apologetic.

  “I wanted it last time, too. You have no idea how much. There are no obstacles this time. I want it. I want you.”

  She reached up and traced his
serious lips with her finger. “No regrets, Jake. No strings attached.” She pressed herself against him and wrapped her arms around his neck.

  His lips came down on hers in a searing kiss that probed and tasted and promised. She moaned as he pulled her into his body, his knee between her legs. She was on fire, but she shivered as he ran his tongue over the inside of her lips, then drank deeply in a burning kiss that robbed her of breath and sanity.

  “We have to get out of these wet clothes,” he said, his lips against her ear. Tiny kisses found the warm spot behind her lobe and continued along her jaw to her mouth.

  He put his arm around her and led her toward the master suite. Stopping at the double shower, he turned on the taps. Paige stood as if in a dream, watching him shed his shirt and shoes as steam filled the room. Her hands tingled with the need to feel his skin under her palms.

  “Allow me,” he said, looking at her body.

  Oh God, I want this so much.

  He took the bottom of her T-shirt and lifted it gently over her head. His hands reached behind her and unfastened her bra. It fell to the floor.

  Paige closed her eyes. Her body relaxed as Jake stroked her face with the back of his fingers, letting them drift to the column of her throat and lower.

  “You have an incredibly beautiful body, you know that?”

  She shook her head, unable to speak, as the rest of her clothes hit the floor, along with his. Jake stood in front of her, tough and golden, looking like a man who spent all of his time laboring in the sun, not in an office. His muscles were defined, and his chest firm with a light sprinkling of hair. His waist tapered into slim hips supported by strong legs. The rest of him looked hot and ready as he drew her into the shower.

  Soothed by the water, her fatigue melted away. He leaned down and kissed her neck, her collarbone, and the top of her shoulder, giving her a taste of what was to come.

  He turned off the taps and dried them both quickly. Taking her hand, he led her to the wide bed. Her knees were barely able to support her. When she stumbled, he tightened his hold, his grip firm. Warm from the shower and Jake’s attentions, she climbed onto the bed and made room for him. When he joined her, he lay on his side and reached up to stroke the side of her face. Paige saw need and tenderness in his eyes. She smiled and reached over to kiss him. His lips were soft, and he opened to her once again, like a man quenching a long thirst. After a while, he reached over and pulled out a condom from a drawer of the nightstand.

  No problem this time.

  It was a few minutes to midnight when Paige woke up, still snuggled in the protective circle of Jake’s arms. She could feel the rise and fall of his chest as she lay there, contented and happy. What would happen when he woke up? Would he be sorry and apologetic? She hoped not. It had been wonderful…better than she had imagined, and she admitted to herself she had fantasized about him a lot, despite her short-lived resolve to keep their relationship on a friendly, impersonal level.

  She gently eased herself away from his arm and drew the covers up. The night had turned cool and the rain was gentler now, a steady patter on the roof. She settled back down beside him. He had turned over when she moved, but hadn’t awakened. So what happened now? Did this one night make any difference? Would he pack up and go back to New York and out of her life? Moisture gathered in her eyes.

  Poor Paige, another ill-fated romance that couldn’t possibly have a happy ending.

  She had to stop feeling sorry for herself. At least because of Jake she knew she could feel again, love again. Love? She dare not use that word. She studied Jake’s face in sleep. Tension lines she’d seen around his eyes were relaxed. She reached out and touched that stray lock that was always falling over his forehead, smoothing it back. Warmth surged through her body. This one night of lovemaking might be all she had, and it wasn’t enough. She wanted more.

  But right now she was content to feel his warmth and breathe in his scent and maybe he would wake up and they would make love again. She hoped so. It felt so good, so right.

  She closed her eyes and fell again into a troubled sleep.

  Chapter Sixteen

  “Let the silky taste of a fruity pinot noir roll off your tongue and slip into your throat for the ultimate sensual experience.”

  —from Paige Reynoso’s tasting notes

  Jake turned over as Paige moved restlessly beside him. He opened his eyes and stared at the beautiful woman next to him, her hair now spread over her shoulders, the curve of her back exposed through the mocha-colored tendrils.

  He leaned over and gently touched her on the upper arm.

  “Paige, honey,” he whispered. “Wake up. Shhh. You’re dreaming. Paige.”

  Her trembling stopped, and she sighed.

  When had he first wanted her? Was it that first day when she tried to make him see a doctor, or was it the next morning when she stalked off, indignant over his proposal to sell the estate? Or was it the night she threw out her challenge to prove him wrong. She put up such a good front, but he knew she was sensitive and vulnerable underneath that bravado.

  When had he started to care about her? The day she stood in his office in that oversize yellow slicker? The night he lit all the candles and for one reckless instant decided to follow his heart, instead of his head? What a disaster. Or maybe it was the afternoon they laughed together in the booth as he tried to knock over clowns?

  The past didn’t matter, but the future did. He could never marry and father children if he had Huntington’s disease, and it was a good bet he did.

  He remembered his mother wheeling his sick father around the house, helping him to bed, cleaning up after him, and toward the end, giving up her own life to take care of someone who didn’t even know her. She’d been a prisoner in her own house. No, he would never do that to Paige. Not after watching his mother’s anguish, and her own decline.

  It would be kinder to leave, so her feelings for him wouldn’t deepen. Paige would find someone else. And he would be able to live with himself for the time he had left. But one thing was certain…he would do everything in his power to keep this vineyard for her.

  Paige stirred and opened her eyes. He dropped a quick kiss on her forehead and pulled her tighter to him.

  “What time is it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know.”

  “I have to go to work.”

  “No, you don’t. I’m your boss, and I’m ordering you to stay right here.” He leaned down to find her lips. “I’m sure I can find something for you to do.”

  He accentuated his words with a long, probing kiss.

  “Mmm, yes. But I have to get up. I have to see how much of the crop was left hanging.”

  He reached for her hand and put it under the covers. “I know one thing that isn’t hanging.”

  She laughed. “You are a bad man, Jake…a very bad, delicious man. But if I don’t get up now, I won’t the rest of the day.”

  She plopped a quick kiss on his chest, then scooted out the side of the bed. He admired the view as she walked toward the bathroom and picked up last night’s discarded towel.

  “Tell me about Manuel.” The question came from nowhere. He couldn’t imagine why it just popped out. He sometimes spoke out of turn when something was weighing on his brain. He’d wondered about Manuel ever since Nicky mentioned his name at the fair and he had noticed Paige’s reaction.

  She stilled. “What do you want to know?”

  “How did he die?”

  “A car crash.” She wrapped the towel around her body. Her voice was cold, without inflection.

  Jake watched her close the door. He shouldn’t have probed, but she’d mumbled Manuel’s name during her nightmare and he was curious. Losing a loved one carried scars. Nobody knew that better than he did. Paige still carried them.

  Water splashed against the walls of the shower. Paige’s clothes were still wet from the night before, so he got up and found sweatpants with a drawstring and a large gray sweatshirt for her to wear. He
took them over to the bathroom and opened the door.

  “I brought you something to wear.” Steam and the smell of soap carried his thoughts back to the night before.

  “Just put it on the floor. Thanks.” Her voice was muffled by the running water, and he saw her lush body outlined through the etched-glass door. Heat rushed to his groin, and he opened the shower door, hoping to get in with her.

  “Jake, please. If we shower together, I won’t be able to leave. I can barely make myself do it now.” She sounded determined, but her eyes told him otherwise.

  “Sure?”

  “I’m sure, you devil.” She pushed him gently. “Out.”

  “Okay. I guess I’ll have to make coffee instead.”

  He quickly dressed and went out to forage in the kitchen. He found eggs and butter and Asiago cheese to make a quick omelet. The coffee was organic from Dean and Deluca in nearby St. Helena. He didn’t know the brand, but it was hearty and rich, just what they needed this morning.

  Cracking eggs into a ceramic bowl, he thought about Paige’s nightmare. She’d cried out the name of her former boyfriend. He’d wanted to ask her about him, but changed his mind. If she wanted to tell him about Manuel, she would.

  He went into the walk-in pantry to get a few spices. When he came back into the kitchen, Paige stood next to the coffeepot, a steaming cup in her hand. She looked like a street urchin in oversize hand-me-downs, her wet hair pulled back in an impromptu ponytail.

  “What are you cooking?” she asked.

  “An omelet. Are you hungry?”

  “I’m starving. We didn’t have dinner, remember?”

  “I remember.” His lips curved upward at the corners as he walked over to the stove top and scraped the eggs into a pan, watching the edges curl. She refilled her cup and came back to stand next to him, lightly brushing her body against his.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  She frowned and became wary, looking at him through lowered lids. “Talk about what?”