Love On The Vine (5 page)

Through it all, Bella sat transfixed. All of her energy directed at the stage.

Classic, dignified, and European. Perfect in this formal setting, but not for his vineyard’s launch. His grandfather’s influence had been strong but the St. Clair Durand Vineyard’s roots snaked through American soil. The choices he made for the launch should reflect that.

By the time the closing refrain wafted through the air, Etienne had made up his mind. ‘Strings’ were more than competent, the captivated audience bore testimony to their skill, but they weren’t suitable.

The lights went up, and he blinked a couple times at the brightness.

“Weren’t they wonderful?” Bella’s gaze met his, and then flickered to his mouth and back again. Her mouth parted a fraction, and her irises expanded.

People further down the row stood, forcing a wave which compelled Etienne to his feet. As a bunched group, the crowd flowed into the foyer.

Bella gripped Etienne’s arm and stopped in her spot.

Etienne tracked her wide-eyed gaze to the heavy-set man standing stock still in the bubbling sea of people.

The man stared openmouthed.

“Oh no.”

Adrenalin raced through Etienne at her frantic whisper.

John St. Clair pushed through the milling crowd. “Bella.”

His plump face flushed an unhealthy red, and he panted heavily like a man destined for a heart attack. His contemptuous stare swept Etienne, who felt his back stiffen in response.

“What are you doing here with him?”

Bella’s hand reached for Etienne’s and gripped it tight. Her rigid body trembled.

All of Etienne’s protective instincts urged him to stand in front of her. Her gaze met his briefly and the unspoken message made him hesitate.

“Hello, Father.”

Her cold tone gave nothing away.

“The same as you, I expect. Enjoying the concert.”

“With him?” John’s lip curled as he jerked a thumb outward.

Etienne bit back the rage threatening to explode. They were the focus of enough attention without him hitting the older man. People watched and whispered. He couldn’t react. Not without damaging his reputation. He clamped down his teeth hard. “Good evening, Mr. St. Clair.”

St. Clair’s eyes widened.

Bella’s gripped his fingers so tightly they hurt, but gave no outward indication of her agitation.

“I don’t know what you’re playing at Durand...” St. Clair started.

“I am playing at nothing.” Iron control forced ice into Etienne’s tones. “Merely enjoying a pleasant evening with a friend.”

“A friend?” John St. Clair’s hands curled into fists.

“
Oui
. My very good friend, Bella. And now we must be going.” Etienne turned away.

With her fingers gripping his, Bella yanked Etienne through the crowd to the exit, not stopping until they reached the safe haven of his car. “I’m so sorry.” Tears welled in her eyes. “My father had no right to be so rude.”

Her voice, half way between a sniffle and a sob, arose all Etienne’s protective instincts, and he pulled her into his arms. He smoothed a hand over her back, feeling her shudder in the aftermath of their encounter. “There is no reason for him to hate me so much,” he said, feeling her soft hair against his lips.

“It’s not just you. He’s angry because I won’t come home and be dictated to any longer. Damn him. He’s ruined our evening.” Bella pressed her face against his chest.

“Your father cannot ruin our evening,
Chérie
.” He tilted up her chin and brushed his thumb across her bottom lip. “Our evening has only just begun.”

E
tienne slid a CD into the console, and the car’s darkened interior filled with intricate melodies.

Bella leaned back, feeling the warm leather of the car seat against her bare shoulders, and stared out at the fast-moving view from the window. The town was dark now, shadowy figures on the street dimly lit by the street lights. The engine’s powerful rumble faded as she gazed at the thin sliver of moon.
Etienne had taken on her father.

While she wobbled like a lamb and let him fight her battles. When would she stop being intimidated by her father’s bullying bluster and stand up for herself? Bella hands gripped the warm leather seat. This latest confrontation proved she was still as weak as ever when faced with squaring off against her formidable father. That she hadn’t progressed an inch since the day she’d refused Brian and fought with her father about her decision. She’d calmly explained the relationship was over. And that she wanted to start her own business. Live an independent life.

Her furious father rained down insults on her bowed head. Amongst the spitting vitriol, she registered the words stupid and reckless. And then he called in reinforcements in the guise of her mother.

In calm, clear tones, her mother explained that really, Bella wouldn’t be any good at business. And that she didn’t need to work anyway. She spelled out in no uncertain terms how no daughter of hers ever needed to work, with a curl of her upper lip which telegraphed her distaste at the mere idea. If that wasn’t bad enough, her mother continued with a smile, “You’re a good looking girl, and with your pedigree, you’ll make a good marriage.”

Bella had never been so insulted in her entire life. She’d known her father thought of her as a chattel to be traded, but her mother treating her like...like a brood mare stung and burned a hole in her heart. She barely focused on the words that came after, until the moment her mother suggested she reconsider breaking up with Brian. Then, a cold shard of ice froze her heart. And it hadn’t melted since. The fact her parents had never supported her hurt. But nothing would deter Bella from chasing her dream.

Face-to-face confrontations were another matter. To her annoyance, at the concert she’d shivered in the face of her father’s anger and had been reduced to a quivering wreck.

Perhaps if Etienne had stayed silent at her side, she could have found the strength to be brave. But Etienne had sprung to her defense. And once again, she’d let a man take over. She tilted her head, ran her fingers over the emerald crystals of her drop earrings, and peeked over at Etienne.

His tanned hands held the wheel in an easy grip as he steered the powerful car through the building traffic, his entire attention on the road ahead.

Dropping her hand to her lap, Bella closed her eyes.

Marie had said Etienne and Brian were different, but Brian had started off being masterful and, when faced with no resistance, had completely dominated their relationship.

They ate where he wanted. Went where he wanted. Even listened to music in the car he selected. When he told her what she should wear and dictated who she could see, she realized he considered her nothing but a mannequin. Arm candy. No opinions required or tolerated.

After the breakup, the intimidation continued. And when fear of what he might do forced her to give up her apartment, she’d hidden behind her sister. The experience had been so demoralizing she never thought she’d find the courage to face a bully again. Shame flooded her at the memory.

The BMW slowed and came to a stop outside Celebrate.

Etienne twisted a dial and the music faded into silence.

“I had a lovely evening,” Bella said. Tension was wound so tight, it would be ages before she could sleep tonight. The image of herself naked in Etienne’s arms burning off the pent-up energy fizzing through her veins flashed into her mind.

“The evening isn’t over yet.” Etienne leaned close to unfasten her seatbelt. His breath feathered across her cheek.

Bella’s heart raced.

“I thought we could go dancing.”

“Dancing?” An image bloomed in her mind of them holding each other close, moving together in perfect time. Enjoying the contact—as lovers would. Bella flushed. “You want to go dancing?”

“
Oui
.”

At his slow smile, she felt her insides melt.

“And I know just the place.”

The long queue outside ‘Roxie’s’ had disappeared. With a nod at the bouncer on the door, Etienne led Bella into the club’s darkened interior. Couples salsaing to the seductive Latin-jazz rhythms packed the compact dance floor.

A waitress led them to a small cast iron table in the corner, close enough to see the band playing on the stage, but far enough away to talk.

Etienne leaned in close.

Bella’s head swam.
He’s going to kiss me.

His lips barely dusted her cheekbone.

Heat swept her face, and her heart pounded fit to burst. She’d never felt so attuned to another person, nor so affected by another’s nearness. Shivers raced up her spine.

His warm breath teased at her ear. “This music is wonderful. Everyone loves it. Might we use a local Latin-jazz band instead of the string quartet for the launch?”

Bella couldn’t think, couldn’t speak. His proximity flooded her senses. The seductive music’s lure awakened a desperate urge to be in his arms, with his hands on her hips as she surrendered to the intoxicating rhythm.

“Well?” he murmured. “What do you think?”

Think? Bella scrambled to remember the question. “I...” She stared into his dark eyes and gave up completely. “What did you say?”

A slow, sexy smile spread across Etienne’s face. “I suggested Latin-jazz for the party instead of the quartet.”

Bella gave herself a mental slap. This was a business discussion; she had to get a hold of herself. She considered his proposition for a moment. “This choice would make for a completely different sort of party.”

“I liked the quartet,” Etienne said. “But classical music is so formal, too constrained. I want the launch to be fun, something everyone can identify with.” He glanced around at the smiling dancers. “And this seems to fit the bill.”

The room swelled with talking, dancing, drinking people. Having fun, and loving the music. If the group could imbue the party with even a portion of this energy, the launch would be a fabulous success.

One of Carlos Santana’s best known numbers started up.

Being in Etienne’s arms was long overdue. “Let’s dance.” She saw Etienne breath in deeply.

The singer’s soulful voice wove its potent spell. Around them, dancers stepped in unison, hips swiveling.

“I’m not sure I can do this,” Etienne said, eyeing the gyrating people a few feet away. “Maybe we can just...”

The uncertain light in his eyes emboldened her. “Watch me.”

Bella’s eyes sparkled and her lips tilted in a wicked grin. The moment she started to sway, Etienne’s heart clenched. And, as she stepped one long lissome leg forward, he damned near forgot to breathe. The Latin-jazz percussion pounded in his head, matching the pounding of his heart.

She mouthed something.
One
, her left leg made contact with the smooth dance floor.
Two
, her right leg flexed on the spot.
Three
, her left leg moved back and her hips undulated.
Four
, she mouthed silently, not moving.
Five
, her right leg moved back.
Six
, her left flexed.
Seven
, with a totally feminine swish of her hips, her legs were together again.

Etienne swallowed hard. He needed a drink.
Pronto
. He waved at a passing waitress and ordered a couple of Long Island iced teas.

Fast-moving bodies spun around them, stepping in time, but he only had eyes for Bella.

Her eyes sparkled and shone, and her cheeks were pink. Her body moved in perfect harmony with the relentless beat.

Ice chilled his top lip as Etienne took a long swallow of his drink and smiled back. With any luck, she wouldn’t see how much her dancing affected him.

With a flip of her hand, she pointed at her feet, mouthing watch. A mock frown creased her brow.

Of course, he’d watch her, he couldn’t drag away his gaze as her feet repeated the steps. The pattern didn’t look too hard. And he’d always had a good sense of rhythm.

The music faded. Bella returned quickly to the table and picked up her glass. “Okay, so those are the basics.” She drank deeply. “Are you ready to try it?”

“I’d prefer to just watch you.” He trailed a finger down her cheek, feeling the sharp tug of attraction as her eyes darkened to jade. “You look beautiful.”

“So do you.” She tilted up her chin.

Etienne stood and snaked a hand around her waist to hold her close.

At the action, her lips parted and her eyelashes fluttered closed.

She looked like a woman who wanted to be kissed. Instead, he moved his lips to her ear, speaking words intended for her alone. “Would you like me to kiss you?” He felt her shiver. “If you do, you have to tell me, remember?”

Her long, dark eyelashes fluttered and her eyes opened, staring straight into his.

The arousal in their depths stunned Etienne to his core.

“I want you to kiss me,” she murmured. “I want you to kiss me now.”

Nothing could stop him from granting her wish. Slowly, gently, his lips teased hers in a soft caress.

Instantly, her lips parted under his, allowing him access to her warm mouth.

He tasted the sweet taste of Long Island iced tea, cool and citrusy. His hand delved into her hair, then under it, stroking her soft warm neck and holding her in place.

The music started again. Bella began to move.

He’d never again hear Latin-Jazz without remembering the feel of her body close to his. The perfect melding of their mouths. They should be alone. Etienne pulled away—suddenly aware they were in a room full of people. “Let’s dance.” He moved forward.

She stepped back, her torso pressed against his. Her body led the way and his followed in perfect sync.

Bella threw back her head and laughed. “Are you sure you haven’t done this before?”

“First time,
Chérie
.” Etienne’s hand tightened. “But it won’t be the last. I love having you in my arms.”

“And I love being here.”

Her smile sent a beam of sunlight right to his heart. Around them couples twisted and twirled. Moving away from each other and then returning like planets submitting to the other’s gravitational pull.