by Diana Fraser
He huffed a sad laugh. “I never had children and I never will have children.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know what the future will bring.”
“I do on that score.” He hesitated. Should he tell her that she wasn’t the only person who’d done something rash? The only difference was that Susie had had a child and he’d made sure he could never have a child. No, there was no point.
He sighed and forced a smile on his face. “Would you like another drink?”
She shook her head. “I’m tired.”
“Me too. Come on, we should go. We’ve an early start in the morning to catch the flight to Onihau.” He reached out his hand to Susie, not knowing if she’d take it. But she did and they walked back up to the car, both silent, lost in their own private memories.
All the way home, Susie gazed out the window at the dark night, but her mind was focused on James, on the movements of his hands as he changed gears, and of the sadness she could feel emanating from him.
She had loved him. Then she’d hated him. Now? She couldn’t afford to swing back to loving him again. She couldn’t, she repeated fiercely to herself. He’d only turn tail and leave. He’d broken her heart once. She didn’t even know if she had a heart to break any more and she wasn’t going to test it.
But it had been so good last night, the sense of intimacy, with the three of them—and the two of them, she admitted. And now, sensing his sadness and regret, the barriers she’d set around her heart had all but crumbled.
“How long do you intend to be here? With me? At the winery,” she added quickly.
“Scared I’ll outstay my welcome?” He smiled briefly. “Don’t worry. I’m expected back in the States the middle of next week.”
She bit her lip and nodded, turning away before her complicated feelings became too plain on her face. He was going. They’d only have a few more days together and then he’d be gone. That’s what she’d wanted, wasn’t it?
He pulled up outside her house and began to open the door. She reached out her hand to stop him. “No. Don’t come.”
“You sure? It’s pretty dark out there.”
“I’m sure. I’ve been taking myself home for a long time.” Besides she was in more danger with him, than without him.
He nodded. “Okay.”
Conflicting feelings surged through her. She rubbed one hand with the other, shaking her head. “Oh, Mac.”
“What’s wrong?”
She looked up at him then. “How about everything? You. Me. Here now. It’s crazy. I don’t know why you wanted to drag it all up again.”
“Because I discovered where you were and I knew I couldn’t get on with my plans until I’d sorted things out with you.”
“Plans? What plans?”
“It’s, er, a business merger of sorts.”
“Really? Isn’t everything—including the personal— always business with you?”
“Yes, it is. But why are you so angry?”
“Because…” She paused but couldn’t think of anything to say other than the truth. “Because, I have to be. I’m trying to save myself because for years I hated you. I wanted nothing more than to see you rot in hell, along with the rest of your family and then you show up…” She bit her lip.
He reached out and took her hands in his. “Then what?”
“And I see you, really see you again and I don’t know… The hate. It’s gone. And I don’t want it to be gone.”
He closed his eyes briefly. “It was useful then, the hate?”
She shrugged off his hands and turned around. “Damned right it was. It gave me strength when I needed it.”
He replaced his hands over hers and this time she didn’t shrug them off. “You don’t need it now though.”
She shook her head and turned to face him, inching her face slowly towards him, hardly aware of what she was doing. She reached out and touched his arm. He took a sharp intake of air and closed his eyes.
“Don’t, Susie.” He didn’t open his eyes and her hand didn’t stop its caress, but moved onto his chest, her fingers spreading over his heart that beat out a rapid tattoo.
“I need to touch you, James. I need to.”
Her hand shifted up from his chest and traced his lips. They were perfect. She felt the rush of his breath against her fingers and knew then, at that moment, that she needed more from him. Slowly she lifted her head until she was only inches from his face. Then she closed her eyes and pressed her lips to his.
Instinctively she shifted her body closer to his and moved her lips slowly, savoring every touch, every pressure and slide of her lips against his. He raised his hand and pressed his palm gently against her cheek, holding her to him as lightly, and yet as securely, as a fine gossamer thread. She felt the groan move up through his body as she opened her mouth and touched his tongue with hers.
With one movement he’d slid his arms around her and pulled her tight against him, responding to her kiss with a need that was as strong as her own.
The seconds of intensity could have escalated but she pulled away and he pressed his forehead to hers, his fingers in her hair, holding her firm, as they tried to calm their ragged breathing, tried to quiet the pounding of their hearts. Then he pulled away and looked at her.
“Christ, Suse, you’re so beautiful.” She heard the huskiness in his voice, the need that edged his words.
She shook her head, about to contradict him, but he raised his finger to her lips to still the words. She pulled away. “I’m sorry, I…”
“Don’t be sorry.” He cupped her cheek. “I’m not.”
“I just don’t want you to think there’s more. A kiss is—”
“Just a kiss…” He smiled. “A good line. Should be in a song. But you’re wrong. It wasn’t just a kiss. It was something far more.”
“And what of it? James, I can’t risk letting you back in my life again. Don’t you see? How can I trust that you won’t get bored after a while? I can’t risk it for me and certainly not for Tom. I can’t do that.”
His fingers tightened around her head. “You can.”
“Think about it. My life is here, on this island. With Tom. You wouldn’t be able to stand it for long. As soon as you began to feel trapped you’d be off. As soon as a pretty girl came by you’d be flirting.”
“Do you really think me that superficial?”
“It’s what you think that matters, isn’t it?”
“Help me out here. I’m trying to turn my life around. I know what I want and that’s you. Trust me.”
“Trust you?”
He recoiled under her cold words, words designed to try to undo what her kiss had done. He withdrew from her immediately and sat back in his seat, looking straight ahead at the swaying grasses. “No. Of course you can’t. It’s too much to ask. Why should you?”
What had she done? “I must go.”
“Sure.”
He didn’t make a move this time to walk her back to the cottage. She jumped out of the car and slammed the door. Before she’d set foot on her path, the car had roared off, leaving nothing but silence and self-recrimination.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Twenty-four hours later…
Susie’s quick gaze swept around the aircraft. It was full with commuters. She pulled out her laptop and pushed her bag under the seat.
“You surprise me, Mac.”
James turned to her, amused. “Good. I don’t like women to be able to anticipate my every move.”
“Usually I can, but this? A standard commuter flight to Wellington? Where’s the charter jet, where’s the helicopter? I didn’t think the Mackenzies ever did anything normal like fly on scheduled flights.”
“You were very clear about your expectations. No special treatment, you said. Normal business.”
“I did. But I didn’t expect you to listen, let alone agree.”
“I don’t agree, as it happens. Trouble was, there weren’t any charters I could get hold of. Beside
s, it’s good to see how the other half lives.” He tried to stretch his long legs out but was constrained by the seat in front of him. “Even if it’s only to remind myself why I never do it.” He winced. “Is it always this crowded?”
“Yes, it is.” She opened her laptop. “Now I suggest we talk about business. It’ll get your mind off the fact that you’re rubbing shoulders with the masses.”
“So thoughtful.”
“Okay.” She opened a document. “As you know, we planted merlot, cabernet sauvignon, malbec and cabernet franc on the higher points of the site. Merlot plays to Waiheke’s strengths but we need to continue to develop the cabernet sauvignon.”
He didn’t speak and she glanced at him. He was resting back in his seat, watching her. She sighed with irritation. How come this man, who she doubted had ever traveled on a scheduled flight before, could look so damn cool and comfortable?
“You’re not concentrating, are you?”
He frowned, a small smile playing on his lips. “Yes, but not on what you’re saying.”
“Mac!”
“I can’t help it. You’re looking very beautiful this morning. I like that shirt.” He smoothed his forefinger down the length of her arm. “What is it? Some kind of silk?”
She shook her head. “I don’t know. I doubt it. The local mall doesn’t usually sell silk.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “That’s why I didn’t recognize it.” He smiled guilelessly and sat back in his seat.
“You were right.” Susie couldn’t help but grin when she saw him focus rapidly. “Ah, that got your attention, didn’t it?”
“Of course. I’m always interested to know when someone believes me to be in the right. I’m right about so many things, what is it you’re referring to?”
“We need to improve our catering facilities.”
“Yes, we do. Guy can help with that. He could also help with importing grapes from Marlborough to increase the variety and quantity, if we think that’s the way to go. Although I’m not so sure.”
“Me neither. New machinery, yes. Improved catering, yes. But let’s keep the wine-making to those grapes we grow on the island. We can do well using only our own.” Susie clicked open a spreadsheet. “You see, I’ve got the production schedules and projections for the next few years here. This column shows the volume of grapes we anticipate harvesting this season and this one the production, if and only if we import grapes to supplement the harvest.” She froze, his finger was once again on her sleeve.
“You shouldn’t shop there.”
“What?” She glared up at him.
“Not at the mall. I’ll get my assistant to send you some stuff from Hong Kong. She’s got a great supplier.”
She let her head fall back against the seat. “You’re really not interested in this, are you?”
“Oh, I’m interested all right.”
A tingle of heat started where she didn’t want it to start and she automatically swiveled the air vent down on her heated face. “No, you’re not. You won’t listen to any of these facts and figures about wine.”
“I’m not one of you crazy multi-taskers. I focus on one thing at a time. That way”—his fingers smoothed down her forearm—“I can concentrate all my energies into one thing and do that one thing extremely well.”
“And that one thing would be?”
“You, of course.”
She shook her head. “No, Mac. I’ve told you. Last night, it… it was mistake. I can’t be— I’m not interested.”
“I don’t believe you.” His finger lifted to her chin and turned her face towards his. “Your eyes are soft and dark, your lips, parted. See, you’ve just licked them.”
“I have not,” she said indignantly, even though she realized she’d responded exactly as he’d described. She could smell his subtle yet sexy aftershave, get lost in those dark eyes where humor and complete and utter charm were present in equal measure. He seemed so sure of himself, and so sure he knew her. And he was right but she’d be damned if she’d let him know it.
He dipped his head to her. “You smell so beautiful. What is it?”
“Shampoo.” She shot him a quick glance. “From the supermarket,” she added for good effect. “Store brand.”
He gestured with both hands. “You see? What other woman could make supermarket rubbish smell divine?”
“You, Mac, see what you want to see, smell what you want to smell, do exactly what the hell you like. Aargh!” She retrieved her earphones from the pocket of her computer bag and put them in. “I’m going to reply to some emails if you’re not going to listen to me. You’ll just have to amuse yourself.”
She tugged down her skirt that had somehow worked its way up her legs by the open glances that James was giving them.
“Don’t worry, I will.”
She read and reread a line of email, the words floating before her eyes without meaning. Her head full of the unwanted stimulus of his aftershave, the way his trousers tightened over his thigh, nestling too close to hers for comfort—she could feel its heat searing her stockinged leg—and his words, flirting with the air hostess who assured him that nothing, absolutely nothing, was going to be too much trouble for her.
Frustration and, yes, she couldn’t help but admit it, a massive dose of lust, simmered inside her. Her body responded to him, just as it the night before, just as it had ten years ago in the hayloft. She closed her eyes as she relived that night of sheer pleasure and lust with James. It had been her first time and he’d been as tender and as loving as she knew him to be. So that, despite the discomfort, the one thing she remembered was absolute pleasure and absolute joy at her connection with him.
“Susie.” James tickled the back of her hand with his finger. “The nice lady’s asking you a question.”
She opened her eyes, trying to repress the residual sense of arousal that still filled her. She looked up to see the puzzled glance of the stewardess. “Tea or coffee, ma’am?”
“Neither thanks.”
The stewardess smiled, a wary smile, and passed James a coffee. Susie noticed it wasn’t one of the usual coffees out of the pot. She’d somehow produced an espresso for James. Of course she had.
He plucked an earphone from her ear and whispered into her ear, his warmth breath caressing her skin. “You should chill more, you know, Susie.”
“That’s all very well for you to say. You’re rich and have no worries. Any money I’ve made has been swallowed up with… living expenses.” She’d nearly referred to Tom and she really didn’t want to discuss him with James.
“You don’t have to worry about money any more.”
“Why does that make me feel like a kept woman?”
“I don’t know. Perhaps it’s some subconscious wish coming through?”
She sighed and shook her head. “Just promise me one thing. Over the next few days, don’t confuse me with one of your women. I’m me. Don’t flirt with me. Don’t turn on the charm. It won’t work.” She narrowed her eyes as the silence only grew.
“I’m promising nothing,” James eventually murmured. He took a sip of his coffee and flipped open a newspaper.
“Promise me,” she repeated.
“Baby, I never make promises I can’t keep.”
She dropped her head on the back of the seat and closed her eyes. Standing on a cliff top, with nothing but vast emptiness all around, was nothing compared to this for danger.
The helicopter circled once before landing on the helipad outside Onihau Estate.
“I might have known the public transport wouldn’t last.”
“I think once was more than enough. Although,” he said as he waved to a tall man waiting for them, “it was interesting, fun even, talking to real people.”
“No fun if you do it all the time.”
“Now there, Suse, is the difference between us. You don’t like people and I do. You’re threatened by people.”
“And you’re threatened by loneliness.”
R
ather than the irritation she’d expected, James pressed his lips together in a rueful smile. “We know each other so well.”
The engine stopped and James slid open the door for Susie to exit. He followed her outside into the dry heat of central Wairarapa.
“Guy, I’d like you to meet Susie Henderson. Susie is an old friend and manager of Whisper Creek Wines on Waiheke Island, the winery I was telling you about.”
“Pleased to meet you, Susie. And this is Lucia.” He indicated a tall woman walking down the path towards them.
Susie shook hands with them both, feeling instantly shy with these two glamorous people. Three glamorous people, she thought, glancing at James.
“Lovely to meet you, Susie.” She and Lucia fell into step in front of James and Guy as they walked through the Mediterranean-inspired formal gardens. “James tells us you’re originally from Glencoe.”
“Yes, my family had been there for generations. They were shepherds at Glencoe and my father had an interest in developing the viticulture there.”
“Must have been wonderful growing up with all that open space.”
“It was wonderful.” Susie glanced up at James who was obviously listening.
“Susie and I used to hang out together when I was home from boarding school.” He grinned. “Terrorized the neighborhood.”
“Do you miss it, Susie?”
“Yes, and no. Dad got me interested in growing grapes early on so it was a natural progression to work in a winery. It was always his dream to run one.”
“And did he?”
“No. He died the year I left Glencoe. But he’d have loved Whisper Creek. I know he would.”
They stopped outside some open French windows and Lucia gestured for her to enter the house. It was a huge room, with high ceilings, light and airy with windows on three sides, filled with simple, but obviously expensive, furniture.
“I’m sure he would. And if anyone can help you with the winery, Guy can. He grew up on his family vineyard and knows everything there is to know about running a vineyard.”
Lucia turned to James. “And, James, you’re looking well. But you always do. The rest of your family’s arriving early evening. It’ll give you a chance to have your business meeting with Guy and then relax with them tomorrow.”
