Under A Harvest Moon

by Joleen James

  "Yeah. There was a pool at the hotel," Kaiden said without looking up.

  "Kaiden," Peter called from the kitchen door. "I'm leaving now." Peter made his way to them, his step faltering slightly when he saw Nico. "Come say good-bye, son."

  Kaiden set the game down, running to Peter. The two embraced. Danielle followed Peter out, but she didn't join Peter and Kaiden. She stayed where she was, watching, looking so damn vulnerable Nico wanted to give Peter a shove for putting the hurt look on Danielle's face.

  Nico walked to her, his earlier upset with her forgotten. He wanted to comfort her. "You okay?"

  She gave him a sad smile. "I've been better."

  Together Peter and Kaiden walked to the front of the house, disappearing from view. Maria, seeing her opportunity, picked up the discarded toy, all her attention on the game.

  "What happened?" Nico asked in a low tone, knowing it wasn't any of his business what went on between Danielle and Peter, yet he was unable to prevent the question from slipping out. "Did he say something to upset you?"

  "He's asking for joint custody, something I'm not ready or willing to give him. And I'm not talking about every other weekend. He wants a fifty-fifty plan, where Kaiden spends one week with Peter, then one week with me." Danielle sat down on the back porch steps. A slight breeze ruffled her hair, and Nico fought the urge to smooth the strands from her face. "I swear to God, I'll never let that happen. I'm going to have to get an attorney. Attorneys cost money."

  He knew where she was going with this. Having to get an attorney was yet another reason she should sell. The knot in his gut tightened.

  "I can loan you the money," Nico said. "You can pay me back when you inherit."

  One delicate brow arched slightly. "No thanks."

  He read the mistrust in her eyes. "You think my motives aren't pure?"

  "Are they?" she shot back. "I wasn't born yesterday, Nico. We both know your offer comes from my visit to Fox Realty."

  "Does it matter what my reasons are?" he countered. "Getting an attorney now is the most important thing. You don't want to lose your son, do you?"

  "Of course not," she cried, jumping to her feet. "I'll never let that happen. I'll be fine. Peter and I are going to have to work out a parenting plan that works for both of us. I know fifty-fifty custody isn't the answer, but I'm not sure what the right solution is. I do know this: bottom line, I need to be in Seattle. Kaiden needs to be in Seattle, not here, a million miles from nowhere." She looked at him then, her eyes bright with unshed tears. "I can't wait to get out of here. Excuse me." She ran up the stairs and into the house.

  Nico turned away, fighting to get his own tangled emotions under control. Kaiden was back, playing the handheld game. Beside him, Maria sulked.

  How could he argue against Danielle's reasoning? He knew what it was like to put your child first. She was returning to Seattle for her son. The knowledge should make him happy. Things were going his way. Jacques was right. He needed to champion Danielle, needed to befriend her, needed to do whatever he could to keep her happy while she was living at Whitney House.

  So what if the thought of preying on Danielle's weakness turned his stomach? What did it matter as long as she sold to him? After all, owning the vineyard was the most important thing.

  He just wished he could make himself believe that.

  Chapter Six

  The following afternoon, Danielle let herself into her father's office, taking a seat at his desk. What was she doing, pretending to take her father's place? When she'd gone into the office that morning, Gayle had reminded her about the meeting with Marketing this afternoon. She was supposed to look over the designs for the new wine label. She'd totally forgotten. What was the point of choosing the new label? Ultimately it should be Nico's choice, not hers, and when she had said as much to Gayle, the older woman had waved away Danielle's protests, reminding Danielle that the vineyard didn't belong to Nico.

  She released a heavy sigh. Choose the label. You need the money, she reminded herself. Attorneys aren't cheap. Do the job, then leave and never look back. Danielle opened the top desk drawer and removed a pad of sticky notes and a pen, in case she wanted to jot something down. As she was closing the drawer, she noticed again the locked bottom drawer.

  What was in there?

  She rattled the handle, hoping to force the drawer open, but it remained stubbornly shut. If she wanted to look inside, she had to buck up and go into her father's room and find his keys. But could she do it? Could she face the all-powerful memory of Phillip Whitney? Did she even want to?

  Focus Danielle, focus.

  Whatever was in that drawer could wait until she'd looked over the label designs.

  Danielle glanced at the first design. It was a burgundy W, edged with a line of dark green, and a line of silver. Very clean. Very classy. She moved the print to the left, out of the way.

  The second design was a drawing of Whitney House. Charming. The thought popped into her mind immediately. The Blue Mountains rose behind the house, the vineyards filling the rest of the space. The drawing was gorgeous, warm and inviting, and would most likely draw people to the vineyard itself.

  Her breath caught at the third design, a drawing of her father. On his head sat the well-worn straw hat that had been his constant companion for as long as she could remember. Phillip Whitney. Even though the drawing was in black and white, Danielle could still see the brown of his eyes, the iron gray of his hair. The lines at the corners of his eyes crinkled ever so slightly, like he'd been privy to a private joke but held back his smile.

  Danielle traced the line of his jaw with her finger.

  Oh, Daddy.

  She refused to cry, even though her chest tightened painfully with regret and sorrow -- two emotions she didn't want to feel any longer, two emotions she was destined to feel once she sold the vineyard.

  Casting her father's image aside, her heart heavy, she scanned the remaining designs; A purple W intertwined with grapes and vines, too cliché, her least favorite; and finally, a plan for a series of watercolor paintings to be done by local artists. While she liked the idea of using local artists, Danielle knew she'd made her decision.

  She loved the drawing of Whitney House and the surrounding landscape. Whitney House was such a vital part of the vineyard, here even before the grapes. It seemed only fitting the house should grace the label, and even more fitting that the drawing of her father be placed on the back label, on a wine that would most likely be the last produced by Whitney Vineyards.

  Now she only had to convince Marketing.

  She glanced at her watch. Time for the meeting. The irony of the situation didn't escape her. She was making decisions for a business she might eventually destroy. If she sold to Germaine Cellars, the bigger winery would absorb Whitney Vineyards into their own label. The Whitney name would die. If she wanted to get back at her father, she couldn't pick a more perfect revenge. Even if she sold to Nico he would most likely change the name. But did she want to kill the Whitney name? Six months ago she would have said yes, but now? Indecision gnawed at her.

  The phone rang. Danielle picked up the call. "Hello?"

  "Hi, sweetie."

  "Hi, Mom," Danielle said, glad to hear her mother's voice. "What's up?"

  "Not much," Jean Whitney said. "Just checking in, wondering how things are going."

  "Okay." Danielle sighed. "It's hard to be here."

  "You can thank your father for that," her mother said in a waspish tone Danielle hated. "He tainted the place."

  "Mom, please." Danielle's fingers tightened on the phone.

  "Sorry," her mother said. "How's Kaiden?"

  "He's all right. He's been spending some time with Peter."

  "What? Why? I wouldn't let that man near him after what he did to you."

  Danielle closed her eyes, praying for strength. "He's Kaiden's dad. I can't keep them apart."

  "The man ruined you, Danielle," her mother reminded her. "I wouldn't be so forgivin
g."

  That's for sure, Danielle thought. Her mother hadn't given her father an inch. In fact, she felt pretty sure the word forgiveness wasn't in her mother's vocabulary. "I'm not you, Mom. Kaiden needs his dad."

  "Be careful," her mother warned. "Don't trust him."

  "I don't," Danielle said. "Look, Mom, I have to go. I have a meeting with Marketing."

  "All right," her mother said, sounding disappointed. "Check in with me later, okay?"

  "I will."

  "Love you, honey."

  "Love you, too." Danielle ended the call. When it came to anything Whitney, her mother couldn't forgive or forget. Jean Whitney held a grudge better than anyone Danielle knew.

  Danielle stood, too agitated to sit. Her hand drifted to the locked drawer. She rattled the handle. Frustration burned through her, as if someone had touched a match to the long fuse on a stick of dynamite.

  "Grrrrr!" she groaned, giving the bottom drawer of the desk a mighty kick.

  The drawer popped open. Surprised, Danielle sat and pulled the drawer open wider. Inside rested two envelopes. Letters? She picked them up. Her name was scrawled across the first envelope. Nico's name was on the second envelope. Both names were written in her father's hand.

  The clock on the wall chimed twice. Danielle was torn between the letters and the time. The letters would have to wait. She had a meeting to attend.

  ***

  "Good night, honey." Danielle blew Kaiden one final kiss before gently closing his door. She crossed the hall to her room. The two unopened envelopes waited on her bedside table.

  Did she want to open her letter? She picked it up. What could her father possibly have to say to her? Why hadn't he said these things aloud? And Nico's. What did her father have to say to him?

  What secrets did the letters hold? Funny, she was dying to know, yet she wasn't. Would he mention his love affair with Isabelle? Discovering the affair between her father and Nico's mother had been brutal, the ultimate betrayal. Their affair had cost both families so much. Maybe the past was best left in the past.

  Danielle set the letters on her nightstand, letting her thoughts roll back to earlier that day. The meeting with Marketing had gone well. They'd backed her label choice with enthusiasm. After the meeting, she'd spent the rest of the day and evening with Kaiden and Maria, first swimming, and then watching a movie. She'd only seen Nico briefly when Maria had gone home. He'd given her a wave from his porch as he'd waited for Maria to cross the yard.

  Avoiding close contact with him was a good thing. He mixed her up. She didn't need another hefty helping of guilt or depending on Nico's mood, more mixed romantic signals.

  Danielle's mind again wandered to the day Nico's parents had been killed. Even now the details of that day were vivid and bright. She could still smell the rain in the air, feel it on her skin. From her hiding place behind the apple tree, she'd watched her father approach, heard Nico's father accuse Phillip of having an affair with Isabelle.

  Over the years, Danielle had replayed that scene over and over in her mind. She'd known enough to understand that Nico's father was drunk, that Isabelle had tried to stop him from driving away by getting in the car with him. The roads had been slick from the rain. If only her father had stopped Nico's parents from getting in the car.

  What would have happened? For starters, the Delrosarios would probably be alive. Would Nico's parents have divorced? Would Isabelle have married her father? Danielle's stomach flipped over. She didn't even want to think about that.

  Funny, she'd never really considered telling Nico about their parents. The truth was so ugly, and she hadn't wanted him to feel the hurt she'd felt, had lived with for years. But they were adults now. Should she tell him? Was she being unfair to him by keeping the secret?

  Beside her, the phone rang.

  Danielle fumbled for the phone, picking it up before the second ring.

  "Hello?"

  "You're still up," Nico said, his voice warm and just low enough it sent an unwanted tingle of desire through Danielle.

  "We seem to have this conversation a lot." Danielle reclined against the pillows, glad to concentrate on Nico, glad for the distraction from her troubled thoughts.

  "I can see your bedroom light from here. I kept waiting for you to turn it out, and when you didn't, I started to wonder what you were doing."

  Danielle cast a guilty glance at the letters. "I'm thinking about reading. You should try it. It'll make you sleepy."

  "I doubt it."

  His words held an edginess, implying that it would take more than a good read to put him to sleep. The slow fizz of sexual attraction unleashed in Danielle.

  "Meet me outside," Nico said. "Walk with me."

  Danger, her mind screamed. "It's late -- "

  "I'll be at the back door in thirty seconds."

  The line went dead. What was Nico's game? He'd been angry at her after finding the market guide. Had he forgiven her? Did he understand her motives now, or was he hoping to use the Delrosario charm on her? Worse, did she want him to charm her? Maybe. But more than that, she wanted out of Whitney House right now, this minute. She didn't want to think about the past anymore.

  Danielle rolled from the bed and stood. She'd gone to bed wearing her panties and sheer white camisole top. After a quick stop at her dresser, she shimmied into a pair of slim fitting black workout pants and a matching jacket with a hood. Satisfied she was well covered, she slid her feet into her sneakers and was at the back door in less than a minute.

  ***

  What the devil was wrong with him?

  Nico hadn't meant to call her. His fingers seemed to have a will of their own as they punched in her number. Nico told himself it was part of the plan, that he needed to smooth things over with her, but deep down he knew that wasn't the reason. He wanted to see her again.

  The kitchen door opened, and Danielle stepped out onto the back porch.

  She was driving him crazy, just like she had when they were kids. She'd made his life hell the summer he'd turned seventeen. How many times had she pranced by, jeans painted on so tight the denim left nothing to the imagination? He'd been warned to stay away from her, even before they'd come to Sun Grove. You didn't mess with the boss's daughter. He'd tried to follow the rules, he'd really tried. It had helped that she was only fifteen. He'd liked his girlfriends a little older, a little more experienced.

  Danielle was both older and experienced now -- a fact he couldn't get out of his brain.

  The combination kept him awake when he should be sleeping.

  "Come on." He extended his hand to her.

  Slowly, she came down the stairs. She'd dressed in a

  body hugging black outfit, her hair looking like she just tumbled out of bed, which she had. He took her hand, her fingers soft and cool in his, and pulled her into the night.

  "You're keeping me awake," he said honestly.

  "Why?" she asked as they walked.

  "I keep thinking about Lance Fox."

  "Oh." Her voice was flat. Had his answer disappointed her? "I'm sorry about that," she offered.

  Their feet made no sound as they walked around the back corner of Whitney House, toward the front. The scent of ripening grapes hung in the air, helping to heighten all of Nico's senses. Over the last week the grapes had sweetened, their scent had changed, and he knew the sugar content had gone up, even without the help of a refractometer. He loved this time of year, before harvest, when the air was still hot during the day, but slightly cooler at night.

  "Don't apologize," he said. "Just promise me one thing."

  She stopped and turned to face him. "What?"

  Nico brought a hand up to smooth the bed-mussed hair from her forehead. "Promise me you'll tell me before you make a final decision. Give me a chance to compete. I can make it happen."

  "I hope so," Danielle said. "I keep thinking about Peter, and the more I think about him and his motives, the more I feel that it's the vineyard he's after."

 
"Let me help. I can look into the legal side of things. I'll call Phillip's attorney."

  "I've already placed a call to him," Danielle said. "Thanks for the offer, but there's nothing you can do. Let me take care of my own problems."

  "Your problems involve me, Danielle," Nico reminded her.

  "Trust me to do the best I can," Danielle said, her eyes searching his. "I'm not going to let Peter win. In fact, it bugs me that we're talking about him right now. I'm sorry I brought him up. I don't want him here with us."

  "Then let's make him go away."

  Her lips parted, and he ached to taste the sweetness of her mouth. Dipping his head low, Nico kissed her, lightly grazing her lips.

  Danielle sighed, the sound so sexy Nico had to have more. Using his tongue, he coaxed her lips apart, slipping inside her mouth. He mated with her tongue, tasting her sweetness, her hot mouth making him forget everything but her.

  He moved against her, every contour of her body burning against his, the contact enough to fry what was left of his brain cells. Danielle moaned low in her throat.

  And still he kissed her, his hands slipping up under her jacket, finding the silk underneath. Pajamas? He ran his hands up her back, noting the lack of a bra, getting a visual of her breasts straining against the sheer, slippery fabric.

  A loud clatter rocked the air, vibrated around them. Nico broke the kiss. Danielle sagged weakly against him, and he used his hands to steady her even while he struggled to return to reality. Where had the sound come from?

  "What was that?" Danielle asked, managing to separate herself from him.

  He didn't let her go completely, one hand on her arm. "It came from out front. Stay here. I'll check it out."

  "No way. I'm coming."

  Nico raced around the house, Danielle on his heels. The driveway was clear, except for Danielle's car.

  "Something made that noise." Nico left Danielle and took a turn around the driveway, looking for anything that might be out of place.

  "Oh, no," Danielle cried.

  Nico sprinted back to her. She stared at the pavement next to her car, her hands over her mouth. The words "Go Home" were painted in black letters on the concrete.