Rose's Vintage (15 page)

Oh, he's gorgeous when he smiles.
Rose felt suddenly warm all over.
Stop it, Rose!
she scolded herself.

She realised he was still standing.

‘Please, sit down.'

Mark plonked down heavily on one of the sofas and Rose perched on the far end of it, twisting to face him as she tucked her long legs underneath her.

‘Does this mean you think they'll place an order?'

‘Well, it's hard to tell, but Alicia seemed really impressed with the albarino and the tempranillo, and she certainly slurped down a lot of the chardonnay.'

‘That's good, isn't it?'

Mark nodded. ‘Said she preferred it to a lot of the Spanish stuff she'd tasted. We just need to be able to supply enough, and at the right price. The Trevelyn sisters have got a couple of blocks of tempranillo just coming on board, but I'm not sure if they've tied up their contracts yet, and I can't really put my hand up for it if I'm not going to get the order.'

‘When will you know?'

‘She said she'd be back in the UK in a couple of weeks' time and be looking at it sometime after that.'

‘And how about the distributors?'

‘They've supported Kalkari since the beginning; we've been really lucky. They reckon the Spanish varietals'll go really well in the metro markets, both on premise and off.'

‘On premise?'

‘Restaurants, clubs, bars. Off-premise is your bottle-os, drive-throughs.'

Mark poured them each an enormous glass of wine and turned to face her. ‘You have a real talent, Rose. That was a superb meal.' He looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time. Rose chewed her lip and tried to mentally quell the rising warmth she could feel creeping up from her breastbone. Nope. No luck. She felt her cheeks redden under his scrutiny. ‘I really hope you can stay here for a while. You're a big hit with Luisa. She adores you – she told me so tonight.'

‘Oh, she's a darling. Gorgeous Lulu. Such a sweetie.'

‘It hasn't been easy. For any of us. I expect someone's filled you in on what happened.' Mark paused, as if deciding how much to tell her. ‘I'm probably partly to blame. I realise that now. Too bloody wrapped up in the winery to see that the wheels were falling off at home. I had no idea Isabella was that unhappy. You know, I don't think she ever really settled here … I still don't understand how she could leave the kids behind though. Me, yes, but not Luisa and Leo. Luisa's too young to remember much, but Leo misses his mum so much. He keeps asking when she's coming back. I'm glad she didn't take them though. I'd be lost without them.' Mark sighed and took another gulp of wine.

Rose had never seen him with his guard down before: he was a different person.

‘Anyway, that's enough about me and my misery. Tell me some more about you. D'you mind if I have a piece of this?' Mark indicated the cheesy toast.

‘Oh, please do. I'm not really that hungry anyway,' said Rose. As he crunched through both pieces, scattering crumbs on the sofa, she continued. ‘There's not much to tell. Lost my job and my boyfriend both on the same day. Pretty careless, huh?' she glanced up at him from under her eyelashes. ‘There wasn't much to keep me in London, and I'd always wanted to see Australia. My big brother told me about the job here and practically escorted me onto the plane. I spent a few days in Sydney, and now, well, here I am.' Rose hoped this didn't sound too sketchy and that he wouldn't delve deeper.

He leaned towards her and she caught the tang of citrus, leather and spice.

She tried, but failed, not to breathe in deeply.

Divine.

She mentally kicked herself for reacting to him. What was she thinking, lusting after her boss, for God's sake?

‘Tell me what you love about cooking,' he said.

‘I can't remember ever
not
cooking – as a little girl I'd mix up awful potions of herbs and Tabasco and whatever else was in the cupboard,' Rose laughed at the memory. ‘My mum was never much interested in being in the kitchen, so as I grew up I gradually took over the cooking, especially for holidays and celebrations. My nanna was a good cook though – she taught me a lot of the basics. Mostly, I love how food brings people together, how recipes can knit together generations of memories, and how cooking for someone lets them know you care about them …' Rose trailed off. ‘Sounds kind of silly, really.'

‘Not at all,' said Mark. ‘That's an admirable philosophy.'

He kicked off his shoes and they chatted some more: about Mark's plans for the winery and why he had started Kalkari. As the wine snaked its way into her veins, Rose felt herself relaxing and, she noticed with surprise, enjoying Mark's company. He'd clearly had quite a lot to drink, but as he talked about his love for the valley, for its soil and its people, she could hear in his words an echo of her own growing feelings for the place. But after a while, her head began to nod back against the upholstery and she felt her eyelids beginning to flutter. It had been a long day.

‘Oh, look at you, you're exhausted, and here am I boring the pants off you,' Mark said. ‘I'll leave you to get some rest.' He rose unsteadily from the sofa and looked down at her.

Rose made to get up.

‘No, don't worry, I'll see myself out.'

‘Okay, goodnight then,' she said sleepily.

‘Goodnight, Rose,' he said softly as he reached the door. It closed gently behind him.

With Mark's departure, the air in the room seemed less charged. Despite her tiredness, Rose was left wishing he'd stayed longer.

The first thought in Rose's head, when she woke early the next morning, was of the previous night. She smiled to herself as she remembered. She'd seen a new side to Mark, one that was vulnerable and gentle, not grumpy and dismissive. She blushed at the memory of his lean, muscular thighs and broad shoulders under his check shirt. She had to admit he was pretty hot – well, for an older guy. She lost herself in a little daydream of him looking deeply into her eyes and wrapping an arm around her waist, pulling her towards him for a sweet, delicious kiss … telling her he'd been waiting for her for a long time … that she was the woman he dreamed about …

Sweet Jesus, Rose. What are you thinking? Every time a member of the opposite sex does something remotely kind, you start to behave like a puppy dog.

She gave herself a mental shake and told herself crossly not to be such a romantic fool.
Mark is your boss, and you've got instructions to spy on him. You do not need to fall for him, and that is an order.

Mark Cameron was definitely off-limits. She was here to get the inside dirt on whether Kalkari was ripe for an easy takeover by her brother – and that was it. There was no scope for anything else.

She figured that a run would be just the thing to chase away such nonsensical thoughts, so she hauled herself out of bed and pulled on running tights, top, shoes and a cap and headed out along the vineyard path that led to the Trevelyn sisters' land. The early morning air was crisp and fragrant with the smell of spring flowers and freshly turned earth, and the dew soaked through her trainers almost immediately. The sun was streaking its way across the sky, colouring everything pale gold.

Pausing to catch her breath at the top of a rise, she looked back down the valley, drinking in the picture-perfect view of serried rows of vines, a couple of glittering triangular dams and the honey-coloured stone of Kalkari.

She was surprised to see a dark-haired figure making its way towards her, clad in a pair of faded blue shorts and a t-shirt with almost more holes than material. As the figure got closer, she saw that it was Mark.

As he reached her, puffing and blowing, he gasped, ‘Overdid it last night – thought it was about time I got fit again.' He doubled over, hands on his knees, recovering from the effort. He didn't meet her eyes. ‘Mind if I join you?'

‘Okay,' said Rose, trying not to sound as surprised as she felt by his unexpected appearance and attire. ‘I usually head over this hill and down to the boundary with the Trevelyn sisters' property and then loop back around to the house. Generally takes me about forty minutes. Think you can manage that?'

‘Lead the way,' he said, having only just caught his breath.

The route downhill was easier, and by the time they reached the bottom they were running in unison, though Mark wasn't capable of coherent conversation and she could tell it was only through pride and determination that he kept pace with her. Rose snuck a glance at him as he ran, discreetly checking him out.
Not bad
, she thought as her eyes travelled upwards. The solid, muscular legs she'd noticed last night. Check. Lean torso. Check. Broad shoulders and biceps. Check. Inscrutable expression.
Oops!
Mark caught her looking at him and she quickly turned her head away.

‘Glorious, hey?'

‘Mmm,' said Rose noncommittally. Presumably he was referring to the countryside, but at that moment she had other things on her mind.

‘Sorry about last night, Rose. I've a feeling I got a bit carried away. Apologies if I bored you.' Mark's mouth was set in a firm line.

‘Not at all. Nothing of the sort.'

‘Good.'

They jogged on but Rose was caught unawares as Mark called out, ‘Race you to the gate!' He sped away, giving her no chance to catch him over the final hundred metres to the Kalkari front gate.

Not happy at having been outwitted and outrun by Mark at the last moment, Rose vowed to pay more attention next time.

CHAPTER 14

‘L
ook,' Astrid said to Rose, thrusting the white plastic sticks at her after the kids had gone to bed. Sure enough, each of them had telltale blue or pink lines on them. ‘What am I going to do?' she wailed. ‘My parents will never forgive me. Papa will have an attack of the heart, I just know it. It was bad enough me for a year to travel so far away, but to have a baby like this will be more than he can bear.'

Rose tried her best to calm her down, but wasn't able to suggest much in the way of help. ‘Look, it might not be as bad as you think. You need to talk to Thommo.'

‘I know I do,' wailed Astrid. ‘But he's in France for their vintage at the moment. I suppose I could send him a text, but I don't want to tell him while he's so far away, and not over the phone. He's due back at the end of the month.'

‘Yeah, it might be better to wait till he gets back and do it face to face,' Rose agreed, looking at her with concern. She felt increasingly like Astrid's big sister, somehow responsible for her. The poor girl was still so young and was clearly going to have to do a lot of growing up in the next few weeks.

Thommo wasn't the only one going to be away from the valley for a while. One morning the following week, as Rose and Mark were catching their breath after a morning run, he mentioned that he was leaving that Friday.

‘I'm off to your part of the world, in fact,' he said casually. ‘London via San Francisco.'