by Cole, Sunny
He was screwed.
He’d already spoken to Amelia that morning. Now he had to get back to the house before she dragged out that box of photos, thinking the two of them were going to confront Riley with their expectations and ask her to take a DNA test.
Could this day get any worse?
Jack groaned. Of course it could. Patrick already knew Riley might be his cousin. Nothing could un-ring that bell. And even if Jack had told Riley he didn’t want her alone with Patrick, there was nothing he could do if Patrick decided to have a tête-à-tête with Riley on his own when Jack wasn’t around. As easily as the two potential cousins had gotten along, was he willing to risk that encounter?
No.
‘Riley, you must believe me, when I left last night, it was out of self-preservation. If I’d stayed, I couldn’t have stopped myself — I wanted you so much. I had no idea you’d be willing to...make love.’
She snorted. ‘Really? I was that undemonstrative?’
I’m only making this worse, not better. He tried again. ‘Do you remember when I told you I wanted to find Amelia, that she had something that might make you feel better? You told me not to go. But I warned you I couldn’t touch you for fear I’d be selfish and take what I wanted rather than give you what you needed.’
She looked confused, but at least part of her anger had dissipated. ‘What does Amelia have to do with this?’
Bite the damn bullet, mate. Jack took her hands in his and brought them to his lips. Then before Riley could say another word, he blurted it out. ‘You might be one of Amelia’s lost grandchildren. They were taken over twenty years ago, presumed dead, but she’s held on to the hope that they’re still alive.’
Riley tugged to free her hands, but Jack held on, forcing her to look him in the eye. ‘Riley, I’m not joking.’
Her bottom lip trembled slightly, and tears pooled in her eyes. ‘You have to be. I’ve searched for years and haven’t come up with a shred of proof that my family even exists.’
‘Remember when she fainted upon seeing you?’
Riley nodded, and her eyes grew wider. ‘I assumed she was fatigued, that the spell could be blamed on her age or her health, or that she was tired anticipating our homecoming.’
‘You look like her daughter-in-law. By all accounts, the woman was a beauty.’
Riley’s composure changed, and she was once again the vulnerable woman in his arms she’d been the night before. ‘How old was I?’
‘Three.’
She had another question. ‘When did you first suspect this?’
Jack avoided answering. The time wasn’t right to tell her he’d spoken with Patrick, and Patrick had told him how Riley got her scar.
He pulled her close and let her lay her head against his chest. All he could do was stroke her hair and back, alternately kissing the top of her head and murmuring to her in French, words she wouldn’t have known that came naturally to him. He told her everything would be alright, even though he doubted he could keep that promise. He called her sweet, told her he would protect her. All things she wouldn’t be able to understand, but it felt better holding her, as if reassuring her would somehow make him feel better.
He prayed he could be the man she needed.
‘Does Amelia know?’ Riley mumbled against his chest then lifted her head. ‘I’m sorry. Of course she does. She’s probably the one who told you.’
Jack held his breath a moment, feeling a reprieve he didn’t deserve, and he didn’t correct her. Was that a question in her eyes, even though her words sounded like a statement? If only Riley wasn’t so damned cute. If only those emerald green eyes didn’t mesmerise him.
‘Riley...’ He couldn’t finish his sentence. Once spoken, he could never take back the words that would put more distance between them.
He could do that, let Riley believe it was a coincidence he’d brought a bride back to Cadigal Valley who happened to belong there. Who could refute him? Not even Patrick. Not Amelia. Not the private investigators he’d hired to help him find Amelia’s grandchildren.
He was safe as long as he let Riley believe all of this came about through simple coincidence.
But could he live with himself?
Chapter Eight
Riley was gritty and needed a shower. She’d spent a wonderful day gathering soil samples and snippets of vines, and Jack had unlocked the door then shown her the inside of the cabin where she might set up microscopes, vials for testing, and pots for replanting. The inside of her workplace was small but efficient, with everything she’d need. There was even a refrigerator, sink, stove, and microwave in the galley kitchen. A small loo was to the rear.
They’d walked back to the main house together in silence except for Jack occasionally pointing out a landmark, things for her to bear in mind if she wandered about on her own and possibly got lost.
Riley doubted she’d remember half of what he told her, doubted even more that she’d need them. There was something familiar, comforting about the property. Maybe he was right. Perhaps she had lived here before, but would a youngster of only three remember such things?
Wishful thinking. It was sweet of Jack to tell her the Fitzgerald’s might be her family, but what did he really know? Had they all needed to find closure for so long that they were willing to believe just about anything?
He left her, staying behind on the terrace while she showered.
‘You sure you don’t want to stay here just so you can smoke?’ Riley winked after she said it.
‘Go shower and don’t worry about my vices.’
Riley laughed but headed upstairs.
Jack sat and stared over the landscape until Amelia found him.
‘Well?’ The one word conveyed a multitude of questions for him.
Jack rose and pulled out a chair for her. Soon, one of the servants brought out beverages and snacks. His previous concerns pounced on his consciousness. He still wasn’t safe from Riley’s inquisitive mind and unanswered questions. Amelia knew he’d been tracking Riley and her siblings. Damn. He’d forgotten about Amelia.
‘She knows she might be a Fitzgerald. That’s all I told her.’
Amelia looked at him in surprise. ‘I take it you didn’t tell her you’d been working on this case for some time.’
‘No, I did not.’
‘Oh, don’t look so uncomfortable.’ Amelia patted his hand. ‘Your secret is safe with me.’
‘That doesn’t make me feel much better, because now you know what a bastard I am.’
Amelia laughed heartily. ‘Did you really think I haven’t seen the way you and Patrick eye one another, with total mistrust, and both of you ready to pounce on any opportunity to stay in my good graces?’
Jack’s humiliation was complete. ‘Amelia, I am sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I’d have done the same damn thing, and besides you weren’t all that underhanded. At least your efforts may have solved part of the biggest mystery in my past, not to mention you’ve given me Riley — my heart’s dearest longing has been to find my grandchildren.’
He couldn’t believe he was willing to concede the race to Patrick. ‘You should give your shares to your nephew, Amelia. Keep Cadigal Valley in the family.’
‘I plan on doing just that’ She paused. ‘Jack? Look at me.’ Her eyes held mirth but sincerity. ‘You are family, dear boy. You always have been. And we all know Patrick doesn’t have the head for business that you do.’
She snorted. ‘God knows what sort of woman Patrick would have thrown into the mix if he’d been as ruthless as you.’
There was that damnable word again. Did everyone assign him that trait?
Amelia didn’t appear to notice his demeanour, that he was conflicted with joy she considered him family and shame that he had ever stooped to bribing Riley.
‘So where do we go from here, Jack? What’s the next move now that she knows?’
‘DNA. I didn’t have time to broach the subject with her.’
Ameli
a rose. ‘I’ll fetch the photo album. Meet me in the library once Riley finishes her shower. I’ll have someone take this tray inside, and we can all have a late lunch there.’
Riley felt anything but calm once Jack explained why they were lunching in the library. How could she eat, knowing they needed her to look at photos of people she probably wouldn’t remember? She would disappoint them...and herself. A child of three couldn’t be expected to retain much.
The three of them had sat silently as they ate for several minutes before Amelia tossed her sandwich into the plate. ‘Oh, come on. None of us will be able to eat as long as we’re thinking about those damned photos. Leave your plates and go to the other end of the table where the book is.’ She instructed James to get rid of their dishes.
The old album was made of red leather, probably kangaroo hide. Riley watched as Amelia opened to the first page and began explaining who was who, where each photo was taken and when. Occasionally she’d look up, but Riley hadn’t been able to reassure her. All Riley could do was shake her head when asked if she recognised anyone.
The shots of Amelia’s son and daughter-in-law looked familiar, but she didn’t know their names.
After several minutes, however, one photograph stood out. It was of a man in his fifties or sixties, with a child on his shoulders. Neither of them was looking at the camera, they were focused instead upon a handful of grapes he held out to the little girl.
‘The Life of Riley.’
‘What did you say?’
It took Riley a moment to realise it was she who had spoken, then Amelia. ‘I-I don’t...I don’t know why I said that.’
Amelia sat back in her club chair, looking completely exhausted. ‘That’s what Joe used to say to you. It’s just an old saying.’
Riley knew what the term meant. It had to do with being carefree and solvent, but she had no idea why she’d just uttered it. ‘I don’t understand why I’d say such a thing.’ She looked from Amelia to Jack then back to Amelia.
‘Well, I do.’ Amelia sounded so sure. ‘It was one of Joe’s favourite sayings. He was always telling you that. He’d say some day when the grapes were harvested and the money started pouring in that you’d be living...The Life of Riley.’
The old woman chuckled. ‘I don’t know why I hadn’t thought of this earlier.’ She looked at Jack, a question in her eyes.
‘I’m on it. I’ll call the orphanage right now.’
While he fished out his cell phone and walked to the other end of the large room, Riley shook her head. ‘I’m still unsure of why...how...’
Amelia patted her hand. ‘Who knows? But there’s no need for the blood test, as far as I’m concerned.’
Riley blinked. ‘What blood test?’
‘DNA, in order to get positive results, but I don’t need any test to prove you are my granddaughter.’
Amelia’s eyes filled with tears, and she started laughing and crying at the same time. ‘Riley — Marianne — I don’t care what you call yourself, you are my son’s daughter, my grandchild!’
Shocked, Riley didn’t know what to do or say. The idea was no longer ludicrous, but it was highly improbable. Wasn’t it?
Soon Jack came back, and the look on his face revealed he was stunned. ‘It seems when you arrived at the orphanage, you refused to talk for several weeks. Then one day you cried out the name Riley. You kept saying it over and over. The nuns thought perhaps that was your name, so that’s what they called you.’
Amelia beamed and opened her arms. Riley had no problem hugging her, but the what-if questions, doubt demons, or whatever had a strong grip on her. She couldn’t quite believe what was happening.
Patrick chose that moment to come through the library doors. ‘What on earth are you people doing? The reception is in two hours.’
Riley looked at Jack. She’d completely forgotten. ‘Oh. I’m so sorry for taking off like that this morning.’
Amelia rose. ‘Never mind. We still have time to get ready, and now we have even more news to share.’
‘No, please.’ Riley could barely breathe for the excitement, being choked with doubt, the thrill of possibly being home. ‘Not yet — not ‘till we’re sure.’
Amelia waited. ‘What more do you need?’
‘Proof, like that blood test you mentioned. Maybe we need to talk to the nuns or somebody at the orphanage.’
Amelia frowned. ‘I thought those nuns had told you all they knew.’
Riley wanted to wring her hands. ‘It’s not that this wouldn’t be wonderful, but I don’t want to get your...my hopes up. What we have is pretty thin, don’t you think?’
Jack appeared at her side. ‘Thin like plastic wrap. But it’s a start.’ He looked at Amelia. ‘It won’t hurt to wait a few days, will it? Give Riley time to adjust.’
Amelia pursed her lips for a moment, but finally she relented. ‘Sure. Not like she’s going anywhere, right?’ She reached for their hands.
***
Riley hadn’t been to many wedding receptions, but her own seemed a lot like those of her friends — a party for everyone but the bride and groom. People made speeches, ate cake, drank too much champagne, danced, and chatted with whoever was beside them until it was time to leave.. Although Riley had to admit, whatever alcohol Amelia served was infinitely better than any she’d drunk at her friends’ receptions.
The mansion’s conservatory was strewn with flowers, tables were adorned with linen and the finest crystal; but instead of bringing out the best china, to her credit Amelia had used pottery more in fitting with the season. Lovely plates, saucers, bowls and serving plates depicting signature grapes grown in Cadigal Valley.
On one of the tables were a couple of wine enthusiasts Riley didn’t know. Beside her sat her husband. They’d only been sitting a few minutes. Most of the night they conversed with guests or danced. Hours and hours, it seemed to Riley.
Jack squeezed her hand. ‘It’s almost over.’
She gave him a wincing smile in return. ‘Not soon enough. I’m not used to wearing heels. I feel like a giant.’
He laughed and bent to kiss the top of her head. ‘Trust me, chérie, no chance of that. Even in those Christian Louboutin pumps, you’re still a head shorter than I am.’ He clinked his champagne flute lightly against hers. ‘Thank you for humouring Amelia. This means a lot to her.’
She took another small sip. ‘Has anyone ever said no to her? Mind telling me what this is?’ Then she shook her head. ‘Never mind. I won’t remember it tomorrow — or even later tonight.’
‘Krug, Clos du Mesnil 1995. One of Joseph’s favourites.’
‘It’s good.’ She set her glass on the table. ‘But I’ve had enough.’
‘Me, too.’ Jack put an arm around her shoulders.
The beautiful reception more than made up for the rather austere wedding they’d had. True, her own friends hadn’t been invited, and Amelia said she hadn’t thought to ask Riley, for which she’d apologised. It hadn’t mattered to Riley. The marriage was a business arrangement, so she hadn’t been disappointed no one she knew was at the wedding ceremony. And even though the reception was a more frivolous affair, it was still business for Jack, considering most of their guests were fellow vineyard owners or people in the wine business.
Riley couldn’t remember the names of every man she’d danced with, and she hoped she hadn’t appeared like a mechanical doll going through the motions as they whisked her across the floor.
Dancing with her husband was another matter. Riley was aware of every step, each touch of his hand holding hers and his free hand pressed against her back as he guided, comforted, and gave her courage. Whatever had gone on between them during their first spat as man and wife hadn’t seemed to affect the amount of attention he gave her. Any outsider would’ve taken them as happily married, even in love.
He whispered in her ear. ‘What do you say we slip away?’
Riley laughed wryly. ‘What would our guests think? Where would we go?’
>
‘The hell with them.’ Jack pointed to the floor. ‘First let’s get you out of those shoes.’
She shivered. Let’s? As in the two of them? Did he fancy undressing her and picking up where they’d left off the night before? She’d been pretty lippy, tearing into him for not having given her a chance, but now? Could she back up her bold statements?
It was one thing to defend her right to make love to her husband, but it was another to go through with it.
Chapter Nine
She had witnessed Jack treating a marriage contract like a prime business deal. He had expressed a distinct displeasure at her becoming close with Patrick, who was possibly a cousin. The man had made love to her as if she were a priceless gem then discarded her immediately afterward as if being with her was a marital duty he was glad to have finished. Earlier tonight, his charming French side had emerged and he’d worked that room full of businessmen and women with adroit smoothness.
Now he’d turned into a bodyguard, telling her what to wear, how to act, to stick by his side. Was there no end to the facets of her husband?
‘Janet probably hates the two of us.’ Riley tucked a large shoulder bag over an arm and indicated the hamper of cold cuts, cheeses, bread, bottled water, and hot coffee.
‘She’ll get used to us.’ He walked briskly beside her, so fast she could barely keep up.
Riley touched his elbow and asked him to slow down. ‘You still haven’t told me where we are going and why I was to dress in clothes I normally work in.’
It had to be past midnight, and she would rather have gone to sleep than begun a work project she couldn’t possibly finish tonight. Besides, she’d only begun getting acquainted with the hills of vines.
Jack pulled out a set of keys, and as they rounded the wing of the house they’d just skirted, the garage came into view. Multiple doors. Good lord. Who needed that many vehicles?
Then again, there were several people who called Cadigal Valley home.
He pressed a button, and the first garage door lifted. Lights came on inside the building, and soon Riley saw their intended mode of transportation. A motorcycle?
