Blame It on the Champagne

by Nina Harrington

  ‘Me? Right. I think I need to sit down now.’

  ‘We can do this,’ Rick murmured as he stood behind her with his arms wrapped tight around her waist. ‘And you know how much I like a challenge.’

  ‘Is that what I am?’ she asked and he could hear the smile in her voice. ‘Another one of your challenges?’

  ‘Absolutely. I might have to use every bit of technical know-how I have to pull it off and get back to ground in one piece, but you’re the girl I want to jump off the cliff with. Even if I have to strap you into that harness myself. No more watching from the sidelines. Not any more.’

  ‘What?’ She whirled around and looked him straight in the eyes and gasped, until she saw his smile. Then she thumped him hard on the chest. ‘Oh, just for a second I thought you might be serious about the jump.’

  ‘It might happen,’ he said, blinking.

  ‘No chance. I promised Amber and Kate when I left London that I would take care of myself and not do anything dangerous.’

  She pushed her lips out and shrugged. ‘Sometimes a girl has to keep her promises.’

  Rick took one step forward and, before Saskia realised what was happening, he had wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, his fingers working into her hair as he pressed his mouth against hers, pushing open her full lips, moving back and forth, his breath fast and heavy on her face.

  His mouth was tender, gentle but firm, as though he was holding back the floodgates of a passion which was on the verge of breaking through and overwhelming them both.

  She felt that potential, she trembled at the thought of it, and at that moment she knew that she wanted it as much as he did.

  Her eyes closed as she wrapped her arms around his back and leaned into the kiss, kissing him back, revelling in the sensual heat of Rick’s body as it pressed against hers. Closer, closer, until his arms were taking the weight of her body, enclosing her in his loving, sweet embrace. The pure physicality of the man was almost overpowering. The scent of his muscular body pressed ever so gently against her combined with the heavenly scent that she knew now was unique to him alone.

  It filled her senses with an intensity that she had never felt in the embrace of any other man in her life. He was totally overwhelming. Intoxicating. And totally, totally delicious.

  And just when Saskia thought that there could be nothing more pleasurable in this world, his kiss deepened. It was as though he wanted to take everything that she was able to give him and without a second of doubt she surrendered to the hot spice of the taste of his mouth and tongue. Wine and coffee. And Rick.

  This was the kind of kiss she had never known. The connection between them was part of it, but this went beyond friendship and common interests. This was a kiss to signal the start of something new. The kind of kiss where each of them were opening up their most intimate secrets and deepest feelings for the other person to see.

  The heat, the intensity, the desire of this man was all there, exposed for her to see when she eventually opened her eyes and broke the connection. Shuddering. Trembling. Grateful that he was holding her up on her wobbly legs.

  Then he pulled away, the faint stubble on his chin grazing across her mouth as he lifted his face to kiss her eyes, brow and temple.

  It took a second for her to catch her breath before she felt able to open her eyes, only to find Rick was still looking at her, his forehead still pressed against hers. A smile warmed his face as he moved his hand down to stroke her cheek.

  He knew. He knew the effect that his kiss was having on her body. Had to. Her face burned with the heat coming from the point of contact between them. His heart was racing, just as hers was.

  Saskia slowly, slowly slid out of his embrace and almost slithered off the sofa. And by the time she was on her unsteady legs she was already missing the warmth of those arms and the heat of the fire on her face.

  ‘I think I’ve talked and been on my feet far too much for one day. Now we really should get some sleep. Vineyard number three is expecting us tomorrow and with the weather turning snowy it would probably be best to make an early start and put snow chains on and...’

  She knew that she was babbling but she had to do something to fight the intensity of the magnetic attraction that she felt for Rick at that moment. Logic screamed at her from the back of her mind. They were both single, unattached, they were alone in the most romantic chalet that she had ever seen in her life, and they wanted one another.

  She had never had a one-night stand in her life. And if she was going to do it, this was as good a place as any...except, of course, it would never be casual sex. Not for her. And, she suspected, not for Rick either.

  Working together would be impossible if they spent the night together.

  Wouldn’t it?

  Rick stood up in one smooth movement from the hips and instantly stepped forward so that his hands encircled her waist. He gently drew her back towards him so that their faces were only inches apart at the same height.

  His hand moved to her cheek, pushing her hair back over her left ear, his thumb on her jaw as his eyes scanned her face, back and forth.

  ‘The snow chains are already on. Don’t lock me out. Please.’

  His voice was low, steady. And, before she could answer, his hand moved to cup her chin, lifting it so that she looked into his eyes as he slowly, slowly moved his warm thumb over her soft lips. Side to side. No pressure. Just heat.

  She felt his breathing grow heavier, hotter and her eyes started to close as she luxuriated in his touch.

  ‘Take a risk on me, Saskia. Can you do that? Trust me not to let you down?’

  Risk? He was asking her to take a risk?

  Her eyes opened wide and she drank him in; all of him. The way his hair curled dark and heavy around his ears and neck. The suntanned crease lines on the sides of his mouth and eyes. And those eyes—those amazing grey eyes which reflected back the flickering light from the log fire and burned bright as they smiled at her.

  She could look at that face all day and not get tired of it. In fact, it was turning out to be her favourite occupation.

  Rick the man was temptation personified. And all she had to do was reach out and taste just how delicious that temptation truly was.

  Did he know what effect he was having on her? How much he was driving her wild?

  Probably.

  Shame that he had to go and ruin it all by asking the one question she had feared. The one question which would decide which path she would take in her life.

  ‘Are we talking about the car journey to Alsace?’ she whispered.

  ‘Maybe. Maybe not.’ He smiled as his gaze found something fascinating to focus on in her hair. ‘What do you think?’ He winked.

  Saskia was about to retort with a polite refusal when she made the fatal mistake of looking into those eyes and was lost.

  ‘Is that the way you usually interview business partners?’ Saskia asked, trying to keep her voice casual and light. And failing.

  He simply smiled a little wider in reply, one side of his mouth turning up more than the other, before he answered in a low whisper. ‘I save it for cold weather emergencies. And for when I need to know the answer to an important question.’

  ‘Hmm?’ He was nuzzling the side of her head now, his lips moving over her brow and into her hair as she spoke. ‘Important question?’

  Rick pulled back and looked at her, eye to eye. ‘I had to find out if you were seeing anybody at the moment. And now I know the answer, I can do something about it. So. Are you going to take the risk and jump into my car for a drive to Alsace tomorrow?’

  Saskia leant back against the sofa and took another breath before grinning back at Rick. ‘Well, I might. If you smarten yourself up a little.’

  He bowed in her direction. ‘Any time.’ He dropped his hand and pushed it deep into the pocket of his denims. ‘Would you care to join me for breakfast later this morning, Miss Elwood? No strings. Or do I have to use my emergency procedure again?’


  ‘I might just risk your croissants.’ She nodded. Then a warm sweet smile lit up her face. ‘But, in the meantime, you can call your parents and tell them the good news. Elwood House has agreed to be your first paying customer. That should put a smile on their faces. Deal? Deal. Goodnight, Rick. Goodnight.’

  * * *

  Rick leant against the wood-panelled wall at the front of the dining room with a glass in his hand and enjoyed the view.

  Saskia Elwood was on her third piece of Kugelhopf cake and sweet dessert wine and savouring every mouthful, much to the delight of the elderly great-grandmother of the Alsace winemaking family who had made both of them.

  They had spent a great day celebrating the grape harvest, which had been collected in perfect weather just before the frost, ending in a family party at the local auberge. And Saskia had been the star of the show every step of the way, from the very first moment she’d started chatting to the family in a perfect Alsace accent right through to her donning an apron to help out in the kitchen when there was an unfortunate incident involving their Labrador puppy, Coco, and some wild boar sausages.

  They had eaten to bursting, danced until they couldn’t stand and laughed. Really laughed. Saskia had made herself part of the extended family and dragged him along with her.

  It had been a long time since Rick had felt so mellow and connected to a group of people who shared a common bond through the love of life and family.

  Family. In the end, it all came down to that one common bond.

  And one person was at the centre of it all. Saskia. His Saskia.

  On the car journey from Chamonix to Alsace they had talked and laughed for hours. Sharing tales about their favourite music, food, friends, silly stories about their school days and people they had known. And yet they still kept coming back to the families who loved and exasperated them in equal measure.

  Somehow Saskia had helped him to open up and talk about all of those memories from the happy times he had spent with Tom and his parents in Scotland and then California. Christmas parties and family weddings with all of the aunts and uncles, cousins and neighbours he had not thought about for years. Good times. Better times.

  It was as though she had opened a window on another way of looking at the turmoil of the past two years and put it into some sort of perspective. This amazing woman he was looking at now had a father in prison and her mother was a stranger living her own life in another city, while he had two wonderful parents who were still grieving as much as he was.

  Parents he was trying so hard to impress while all the time perhaps they simply needed him to talk to them.

  Rick flicked open his cellphone, licked his lips and scrolled down to the number he had not called for days.

  Now was as good a time as any.

  ‘Dad? Rick. How is the weather in Napa today? That’s great. Did Mum get those photos I emailed about Nicole and Jean Baptiste’s wedding? Oh, of course. Too busy getting ready for the wine festival. Yeah. Just calling with two pieces of news. First—Chamonix has snow. I know, in September! But there’s more. Do you remember me telling you that I was meeting with Margot Elwood’s niece in London? Well, guess who is going to be my first serious customer for the new store? I know. I’m pleased too. Saskia Elwood is someone I can work with, I’m sure of it. Okay, I’m talking too much. Tell me about the festival. I want to hear all about it.’

  * * *

  Saskia stood in the front porch of the auberge where they were staying and waved goodnight to the last of the family of local winemakers who were still singing as they wound their way down the narrow lane to their homes in the village.

  Most of the inhabitants of the Alsace village had gathered together to celebrate bringing in the wine harvest in the dining room of the auberge, and quite a few of the children too.

  There were going to be a lot of hangovers and bleary eyes tomorrow morning. She checked her watch. Make that later this morning!

  Thank goodness they all lived within walking distance. Or should that be staggering distance? It’d been a brilliant celebration and the winemakers had welcomed Rick with open arms. And when he’d announced from the front of the room that she was going to be their very first buyer of the new wine in London? She might as well have been an honorary member of the family.

  Her feet had never left the ground since.

  The food was spectacular, the wine amazing and the atmosphere? Oh, the people and the atmosphere had reminded her more than any words could say of the tiny vineyard her Elwood grandparents had made their home. Working and living with people whose lives revolved around tending the grapevines they had inherited from generations of family winemakers before them.

  Rick had been right. She did need to spend more time away from London and all the pressures that came with Elwood House. She used to love coming to Alsace as a girl to be with her family and yet somehow she never found the time to take a real holiday.

  But what could she do? Her life was in London and her grandparents were long gone. How could she steal away for weekends and holidays and spend more time here?

  A shiver ran across Saskia’s shoulders. The crisp night air was cold enough for a light frost on the lawn and stars shone brightly in the inky-dark pollution-free sky.

  Breathing in deeply, she was just about to turn away when she sensed Rick’s presence behind her in the hallway, even before she had seen him. A feather-light duvet coat fell onto her shoulders and she wriggled deeper inside it.

  Rick came up and stood beside her and she felt one arm wrap around her waist and snuggle her to him for warmth.

  She sighed and tutted out loud. ‘Aren’t you cold?’ she asked in a joking voice as she took in his shirt sleeves.

  ‘Not a bit.’ He smiled. ‘This is nothing. And, besides, I’ve got a girl to keep me warm.’

  ‘Have you indeed?’ She play thumped him on the arm, which only hurt her hand and did nothing to him at all. ‘Well, in that case, Mr Cool, thank you for the coat. It is too gorgeous an evening to say goodnight quite yet. Look at the stars!’

  His reply was to pull her closer.

  Saskia gazed up into his face. In the warm golden light from the porch she could make out the stubble on his tanned chin and upper lip and the way his hair curled around his ears and onto the pristine white shirt. It was so, so tempting to raise one hand and stroke that chin and find out if her memory of his kisses matched the reality of the man she was holding now.

  Almost as if he could read her mind, Rick glanced at her and his dark eyelashes fluttered slightly in hesitation before he pressed his lips, those warm, full lips, against her forehead and held them there until her eyes closed with the sheer pleasure of his touch. It was almost a physical loss when he slid his chin onto the top of her head and exhaled slowly. She could feel his heart race to match hers.

  Saskia closed her eyes and revelled in the sheer sensation of being held in Rick’s arms. She wanted this moment to last as long as possible. To hold on to the glorious feeling that came with knowing that she was in the right place at the right time with the right person.

  Especially if that person had a stubbly face and spectacular broad shoulders.

  Rick Burgess made her heart sing just at the sight of him and her knees wobble at his touch.

  How had that happened?

  No. She was not going to overanalyse it. She was going to allow herself, for once, to relax and live in this moment. Not thinking about all of the things that she should be doing or planning for the next event.

  Just living in the moment. And enjoying that moment to its full potential.

  She had never truly done that before. Ever.

  Ever since she could remember, her life had been one long series of lists of things that she should do or should not do, when to speak, what to say and how to act. To be released from that pressure felt magical.

  And she knew just who to thank for showing her what her life could be like, given the chance.

  The man who was h
olding her now. Rick the Reckless—who was not so very reckless after all. He was just...Rick.

  This man had pressed buttons she did not know that she even had. And a few which surprised her. Shown her what being in love could be truly like.

  She tilted her head so that she could look more closely at the pulse in his neck, his chest rising and falling.

  She was willing to take that risk with this man.

  Watching him now, his face relaxed, warm, handsome, it would be so easy to be seduced into the sweet and tender kisses of the man she had come to care so very much about.

  Tonight had swept away any lingering, unspoken doubts she could have had.

  This was what she had truly been frightened of, what she had always feared would happen when she gave her heart.

  And she had truly given her heart, no doubt about it.

  They had become attached with bonds you could not cut with a sharp tongue or kitchen knife.

  She was doomed.

  No. She would never forget him. His laughter. His teasing. His touch on her skin.

  How could she walk away from this man? When she wanted him. Knowing that she was setting herself up for loneliness and pain if she walked down that road.

  Rick stirred slightly and she grinned up at him. ‘It was a wonderful evening. Thank you for making it possible for me to be here.’

  Rick chuckled for a moment before answering. ‘You are most welcome. I only hope that I can still dance like our host’s grandfather when I get to his age.’

  She slowly twisted her body around so that there were only inches between them, so close she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face as it condensed into a fine mist in the cold air.

  The sound of laughter from the auberge owner and his family drifted out from the dining room and they both turned around to listen and then smiled at one another.

  ‘I know. This trip has brought back so many happy memories,’ she whispered, her voice low as she scanned his face. ‘I’m only sorry that I didn’t come back to France sooner. But, after Aunt Margot died, I felt that I had to keep busy. It is too easy to mope on holiday.’