Love On The Vine (3 page)

As she swallowed, Bella’s throat moved.

With Bella so temptingly close, none of that mattered. Etienne leaned in and angled his lips over hers. What started as gentle teasing changed to something more the moment she sighed and her lips parted, allowing him access.

Her hand slid up the front of his jacket. Warm fingers stroked the back of his neck. Etienne’s control evaporated. One arm tightened to pull her close, while the other released her thick swathe of hair from its constraint to swing free against her back. “That’s better.”

His muttered words seemed to break the spell.

Bella pulled back and stared with wide, shocked eyes. “I...” She blinked rapidly, and her hands dropped to her sides.

She looked gorgeously aroused, and completely confused.

“What were you thinking?” She crossed her arms over her chest, and glared.

Etienne’s heart thundered. He’d been carried away on a wave of passion the moment their lips met. The realization of just how out of control he’d been shocked him. “I wasn’t thinking.” He grasped her hand. “I acted on impulse, and I suppose you think I should apologize.”

Bella’s lush mouth tightened. Her head jerked in a swift nod.

Despite her silence, her response couldn’t lie. She’d liked the kiss as much as he had. He wouldn’t apologize for taking what was so obviously offered. “Well, I won’t. I didn’t mean to kiss you.” Unable to stop himself, he gazed into her eyes, watching for her reaction. “But I’m glad I did.”

“We barely know each other.” Bella’s eyes flashed green fire. She reached up to touch the hair swinging free from its clasp.

“We only met this morning, but the attraction between us is impossible to ignore. The way you gazed at me...I had to kiss you.”

Bella’s back straightened. Her hands brushed her outer thighs in quick swipes. “I’m here to do business, Mr. Durand. I’m sorry if I gave you the wrong impression, but...” She looked away.

“Etienne,” he demanded. “You will call me Etienne, and I will call you Bella. If I have offended you, I apologize. If you do not wish me to kiss you...”

She shook her head, setting her curtain of hair swinging from side to side. Her body trembled. “I don’t.” Her lips pressed together.

“In that case, I promise not to kiss you again. Unless you ask me to.” Etienne handed Bella her jeweled hair clasp and waved a hand to the doorway. “Shall we continue with the tour?” Holding open the door into the conservatory, he forced himself to act as though nothing had happened.

He’d come on too strong. Had acted like a schoolboy compelled by hormones. He rubbed a hand over the tight muscles in his neck and discreetly rolled his shoulders to release the tension which gripped them. A powerful attraction had splashed over him and pulled him under when their gazes met. For the first time ever, he’d been unable to resist a woman’s lure. Shock at his response shook him to the core, and despite his attempts to rationalize his reaction, he couldn’t.

The large conservatory was a recent addition to the château, its large expanse of glass perfectly showcasing the view of vines laid out symmetrically in terraces. “I have included a large patio area.” Etienne walked past Bella and threw wide the glass doors. “I’d like to have the party both here and outside.”

“It’s perfect.” Bella’s gaze scanned the areas. “Plenty of room, and the view is spectacular.”

Etienne waved an arm toward the table set out under the trees. “I’ll join you at the table. Excuse me for a moment.”

****

D
appled sunlight flickered over the table’s surface. Bella breathed in the warm air, shoulders rising with each deep inhale. A light breeze spun little eddies in the dry earth under the large olive tree next to the heavy rustic wooden table. Tension flowed from her body as the sun’s touch warmed her uptilted face. She sank onto a heavy wooden chair, and felt her heart soar as she stared at the familiar view. He’d kept the table. She glanced at the chair at its head, recalling her grandfather there.

The St. Clair Durand Vineyard had been her grandfather’s pride and joy. The culmination of all his dreams. When Michael St. Clair was only nineteen, he’d first met Jean Durand as the two young soldiers readied themselves for the D-Day landings. They’d talked about their families, their homes, and their dreams. Although they were from opposite ends of the earth, they shared a common vision.

Jean’s family had a vineyard in France. At the end of the war, Michael visited Provence and worked in the Durand vineyard. After three years, he returned to Aqua Blanca, persuaded his father to give him a parcel of land, and started the vineyard. Jean advised from afar, bought into the business, and the St. Clair and Durand partnership was born.

Her grandfather often told her times were hard and money tight in those early days. But like Bella, Michael had a dream. One he’d been determined to see bear fruit. And it had. Michael’s hard work and diligence paid off. And over the years that followed, the vineyard grew in fame and fortune.

As her grandfather’s voice echoed in her memory, Bella’s hand ran over the table’s warm wooden surface. “You have to look after the vines, Bella,” he’d said, right here at this table. “If you do, you’ll reap the rewards.”

Ten years ago, her beloved grandfather was felled by a stroke and his son and heir, John, took over the family business. Her father loved the prestige of ownership, but lacked the passion and drive necessary to ensure the vineyard’s continued success. As a result, the neglected vineyard quickly spiraled into decay. When the wine industry faltered and her grandfather’s health failed, John’s interest waned. And the Durand family, unwilling to see their investment diluted by selling in a depressed market, bought him out.

Jean Durand insisted his old friend Michael have a life interest in the château, and employed a manager to oversee the business and look after the vines. On Michael’s death, the vineyard and château became the sole property of the Durand family. Etienne had arrived in California to assume the inherited mantle of owner soon thereafter.

Bella lifted her heavy swathe of hair so the breeze teased the back of her neck. Her grandfather would be happy with the changes Etienne had wrought in such a short time. The land and the whole estate had been transformed, and with obvious loving care, brought back to life.

Etienne strode through the open door carrying a bottle and two glasses. “I think you better know what you’re promoting.” He poured rich, red liquid into both glasses. “Santé.”

After accepting the glass, Bella rolled the wine around her mouth, tasting the elusive flavor of raspberries along with soft, round tannins. “It tastes like...the ’92.” The last vintage her grandfather had launched before his stroke. The one that had finally put the St. Clair Vineyard firmly on the map.

Etienne raised his eyebrows. “You know the vintages?”

“I used to be quite the wine buff.” Her sadness faded and she felt her mouth tilt slowly into a smile. “Back in the old days.”

“The old days?” His voice was quiet.

“When my grandfather was in charge.” Nostalgia weighed on her thoughts. She put down her glass. “This is a vintage like his most famous. Congratulations.”

“You were close to your grandfather?”

“After he died, my father...” Bella stared out over the ranks of vines as her thoughts tumbled back through time. Her father had taken the money from his share of the vineyard and acted like a lottery winner. He bought more cars than he could possibly drive, treated his friends to weekends away in the finest hotels, and even considered buying a private jet.

Even her more conservative mother had been swept up in all the excitement. Their life became a blur of cocktail parties, dinner parties, and weekend parties.

With money burning a hole in his pocket, John St. Clair reluctantly agreed to his wife’s pleading that they invest some of their windfall in Beauregard Polo, her family’s polo pony stables. Before long, a showy mansion on the outskirts of town became home. Despite John’s reckless spending and excessive lifestyle, his investment in Beauregard Polo was a wise one. He became a very rich silent partner.

When her father met Brian Delaney, he thought him perfect husband material, and introduced him to Bella at the earliest opportunity. On the checklist of suitability, Brian ticked all the boxes. As the eldest son of an old family, he would inherit all of his father’s riches.

Bella found him dull as dishwater, but went on a few dates to please her father. Their relationship progressed in fits and starts until she finally realized that his controlling nature was so stifling, their relationship could have no future. When Bella told Brian she didn’t want to see him any more, he showed his true colors.

He grasped her around the neck, squeezing lightly before forcing his face close. “Unacceptable, Bella,” he ground out before forcing his mouth onto hers. “Our relationship isn’t over until I say it is.”

Shocked, and in pain, Bella spluttered and coughed.

Brian loosened his grip around her throat, then pulled her unresponsive body tight against his. His hot breath feathered against her cheek. “I love you, darling.”

The words chilled her heart.

“And I’m going to marry you.”

“I don’t want to marry you,” she whispered as panic flared into life.

In response, his hand tightened, fingers digging painfully into her upper arm. “Don’t make me fight with you again.” He stepped away.

A shudder trembled through Bella at the wild look in his eyes, like those of a dangerous predator.

“Because I’ll win.”

Terrified, she fled to her parent’s house where she shakily recounted the whole incident.

Calmly, her mother told her she’d overreacted.

And John St. Clair stood in front of the fireplace with his hands clasped behind his back. “The thing to remember here, Bella, is Brian Delaney, the most eligible bachelor in Aqua Blanca, has proposed. To you.” His chest swelled and he smiled. “You really couldn’t make a better match.”

Struck dumb, Bella couldn’t believe her ears.

John strode toward the large window overlooking the manicured garden. “It’s unfortunate you rejected him, but I’m sure we can get everything back on track.”

Bella struggled as if in the grip of a nightmare. Had her parents not heard her when she’d told them how he’d behaved? How he’d...“He’s controlling.” Her voice rose. “I don’t love him...” Blood pounded in Bella’s temples.

“Love will come in time,” John snapped. His mouth pursed into a thin line. “Brian is perfect for you.”

What her father hadn’t said was Brian was perfect for him and his balance sheet. He coveted a strategic marriage with one of Aqua Blanca’s oldest families.

At that very moment, the truth splashed over Bella like a cloudburst of freezing water. She was a commodity. A prize to be traded to the most illustrious bidder, no matter what her feelings were on the matter.

Brian didn’t want her—he wanted the cachet a society wife provided.

Whereas she yearned to be loved for herself. “No.” Bella insisted. She crossed her arms and stared down her father. “I deserve to be with a man who loves me. One I love in return. I’ll never marry him.” On shaking legs, she’d stalked from the room, packed her bags and left. On escaping the showy mansion, she’d moved in with her grandfather, attended college, and earned her business diploma.

The memory of the pain etched on her grandfather’s silent face when she’d recounted her story brought tears to her eyes. In the midst of her troubles, he’d always been her rock. She missed him so much.

“Are you alright?” Etienne leaned close, and his deep brown gaze locked onto hers.

Bella looked down at her trembling fingers. “I’m sorry.” She wrapped her arms around her torso and willed herself to calm down. “My grandfather’s last years were difficult ones. He had a stroke and couldn’t speak.”

“I understand.” Etienne eased away and stared out at the vines.

Taking a couple of breaths, she grasped the moment to gather her composure.

“I have organized some dinner,” Etienne murmured.

Bella glanced from under her lashes. He was so sensitive. So different from Brian. Instead of hounding her, he’d backed off at the first sign of her distress, and changed the subject. He really was the most extraordinary man. Her fingertips tingled with the remembered slide of his midnight-black hair, the warm column of his neck.

His mouth curved in a warm smile.

Bella’s heart jumped.

His upturned hand swept the view before them. “So, what do you think? Shall we have the party out here?”

“That would be perfect.” All she could think about was kissing him again. Bella clasped her hands in her lap so tightly they hurt. “We could move the table to the side, and cover it with glasses. And put out some chairs, for those who aren’t content to stand.” In her imagination, the picture came vividly to life. The beautiful gilt chairs she’d rented for a wedding last year would be just perfect.

“There will have to be music,” Etienne said.

Bella pulled out her notebook and pen and jotted down notes. “How about a string quartet—they’re fantastic.” Her spirits soared in excitement at the thought of hearing ‘Strings’, Aqua Blanca’s famed string quartet. “They’re doing a performance next week at the Concert Hall.”

“Get us tickets,” Etienne said in a calm voice.

“And we could have some floral arrangements, not too many, just enough to bring the outside in. To create a link between the vineyard and the château.” She chewed at her bottom lip, drawing ivy curlicues and bunches of grapes on the paper.

The setting sun flooded the sky with warm bands of golden rose. A vision for the party flickered through Bella’s mind, like soft focus movie rushes. Something to complement the golden stone of the house, like dusky tea roses. She focused all her concentration on the page, tenuous ideas springing to life under her moving pen.

B
ella was completely focused on capturing her thoughts on paper. Too focused to notice Etienne staring at her expressive face which seemed lit from within. The curve of her cheek, the sparkle in her eyes, the excited energy fizzing from her—all held Etienne spellbound.