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Authors: Yvonne Lindsay

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BOOK: The Wayward Son
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“I think this should be just for the three of you. I’ll catch up with you all at dinner.”

Nicole made a sound of protest. “Don’t be silly, Anna. You know Dad will expect you there, too.”

Anna looked at him, as if waiting for his approval.

“Sure,” he said.

If the stiltedness between her and his sister was any indication, perhaps Nicole didn’t entirely approve of Anna and their father’s closeness.

Nicole hooked her arm in his. In her three-inch heels they were almost of a height and together they walked up the stairs and into the house that was shortly to become all his. One thing was clear to Judd—Charles hadn’t gotten any better about showing consideration to the women in his life. It was obvious Nicole wasn’t aware of the full extent of Charles’s plans for him. He doubted she’d be this friendly if she knew. That would have to be a bridge to cross at a later date. First, he had to go face-to-face with the man who’d cast him from his home and his country twenty-five years ago, and he had to do it with a civil tongue in his head.

Judd’s memories of his father had been of a vital man who exuded energy and bonhomie the moment he stepped in a room. The man who shakily rose to his feet as they entered a large salon was a mere shadow of whom he’d been. Despite Charles’s unmistakable frailty, Judd’s long-harbored anger at his father’s abandonment did not lessen.

“Here he is, Dad,” Nicole said.

“Judd—”

“Sir,” Judd said, stepping forward and offering his hand.

He watched his father, searching for the man he remembered but seeing little of the vibrancy of his memories. Charles’s hair was now steel-gray instead of the black Judd remembered, and his posture was less erect, his figure more portly than fit. But even though his father was obviously unwell, there was a keen intelligence that still gleamed in his eyes as they stood face-to-face. Those blue eyes, very like his own, scoured his features as silence stretched out between them. Something in his appearance must have satisfied the older man, because he gave a short nod and gestured to Judd to sit down.

Anna crossed the room and took the seat on the sofa next to Charles, her hand on his forearm as she leaned closer to whisper something in his ear. A fierce wave of something not unlike jealousy rose from deep inside Judd. Her body language shouted a familiarity between Anna and Charles that screamed loud and clear. A familiarity that Judd silently promised would soon change.

“Don’t fuss, Anna. I’m fine,” Charles protested, taking her hand and holding it in his for a moment before releasing it. “Now, let’s not beat around the bush. You know I want proof you’re my son.”

Judd felt his hackles rise. “I know I’m your son. I couldn’t be anyone else’s.”

“I’m sure that’s what your mother told you,” Charles commented, “but you must understand I need to be one hundred percent certain.”

“I told you I’m prepared to be tested,” Judd said, holding on to his temper by the merest edge.

His mother was no angel, but he knew she told the truth when she said he was Charles Wilson’s son. She wouldn’t lie about something as vital as that. Not to him.

“Good, good. We can attend to that on Monday and courier the samples to the lab here in Auckland. They offer an express service and promise paternity results within forty-eight hours. It’s a shame Anna didn’t get you back earlier and that we have to wait out the weekend before we can complete the tests.”

He couldn’t help it. He had to ask. “Why the sudden urgency? You’ve waited twenty-five years, surely another two days won’t be a problem.”

Charles shot him a glance and then smiled proudly. “Well, you certainly sound like me. Straight to the point, hmm?”

“I find it doesn’t pay to beat around the bush in important matters.”

“No, it never does.”

Judd merely looked at him, waiting for him to stop hedging and get to the point. The air in the room became uncomfortable, and in his periphery Judd saw Nicole glance from him to their father.

“I’d like to know, too,” she blurted, a tremor in her voice. “Why now, Dad?”

Charles looked at his daughter, a frown of censure on his forehead. “Don’t go getting all emotional, Nicole. It’s no secret that I’m not getting any younger or any healthier. It’s time for me to get everything in order.”

“Why did you drag Anna into this? Why send her to do your dirty work?” Nicole persisted.

“That’s enough, young lady. I’m still the head of this household and I’m still the head of Wilson Wines. Don’t question me.”

Nicole slumped in her chair, all the fight gone out of her in a flash. Judd felt a momentary pang of regret for what she must be going through. He’d make it up to her somehow, he promised silently. She deserved something for having put up with the old man all these years without anyone to stand up for her. It was something he’d have done, if given half a chance.

A movement at the door caught everyone’s attention.

“Excuse me, sir, but dinner is served in the dining room,” a uniformed middle-aged woman said.

“Thank you, Mrs. Evans,” Charles said, dismissing the housekeeper and turning back to Judd. “We keep regular hours here for mealtimes—my diabetes, you know.”

Charles rose to his feet, refusing Anna’s offer of assistance, and led the way through to the dining room. Each room Judd set foot in gave him a weird sense of déjà vu. Although his memories of living here were faded and sketchy, the old photos of Masters’ Rise that had been passed on by friends after the fire were imprinted in his mind. This house truly was a complete replica of his mother’s old home. No wonder she was so bitter about being made to leave.

He made a silent promise—Cynthia would return to triumph over all this again.

They’d been back one day short of a week. Anna sat at her desk, finding it nearly impossible to concentrate on the work ahead of her. Judd had traveled into the office with Charles this morning, and the two of them had been closeted together for a couple of hours now. Every time Nicole had ventured out from her office, she’d sent a baleful glare toward her father’s closed door and the atmosphere had become so tense it was almost palpable.

The arrival of the junior receptionist from downstairs, bearing the morning’s mail and courier deliveries, was a welcome distraction. Anna swiftly sorted the mail and then turned to the courier packages. One in particular, slimmer than the rest, stood out. She lifted it and checked the return address. Her stomach instantly knotted. Marked Private and Confidential and addressed to Charles, it had come from the lab he’d engaged to conduct the DNA testing.

She dropped it on the stack of mail she’d already opened for him, as if it burned her fingers. While he’d authorized her, long ago, to attend to all his correspondence, both personal and relating to the business, she had no doubt he’d want to open this particular item himself.

The door to Charles’s office opened and she jumped, feeling as if she’d been caught doing something wrong. Judd’s ever-intense gaze swept her body and, obviously noticing her reaction, one dark brow lifted slightly in query. She ignored him, something that she’d wished she’d become more capable of in the past few days. Back in Australia, she’d tried to resist her attraction to him because she’d worried about the backlash when he learned the truth. She’d never realized that there was part of the story that even
she
didn’t know—that Charles intended for Judd to take over the company. Once the DNA test results verified what they all already knew, Judd would become her boss.

That
should
make him absolutely off-limits. Her brain was sure of it. Her body, though, was much harder to convince.

Just thinking about him was enough to make her body heat with arousal. Being in the same room as him, even under the same roof, was absolute torture. For the past week, work had been her refuge away from him, but it looked like that wouldn’t be the case any longer.

“Anna, I want you to take Judd on a tour of our biggest Auckland stockists, introduce him to the store and chain managers. No need for appointments, hmm? Let’s catch them on the hop and see how we’re faring against the competition.”

“Wouldn’t you rather do that yourself?”

Anna couldn’t think of anything worse than having to spend the balance of the day solely in Judd’s company. While she hadn’t been able to fault his behavior toward her since their return to New Zealand, there was an undercurrent that remained ever present between them. An undercurrent that kept her nerves wound so tight she was beginning to wonder if she shouldn’t request a leave of absence and head away for a couple of weeks, just to be able to breathe again without constantly thinking of Judd Wilson.

“You know I can’t drive myself and we can hardly expect Judd to find his way around on his own just yet.”

“It’s okay,” Judd interceded smoothly. “I’m sure that with a GPS I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Charles insisted, his color rising slightly. “I’ve asked Anna to take you and she will. Everyone knows her already and it will make the introductions much smoother. Isn’t that right, Anna?”

Anna pushed her chair away from her desk and stood, gathering her handbag from the locked drawer at the bottom of her desk as she did so.

“Sure, Charles. Whatever you want.”

“Right, then, that’s settled.” Charles looked at the pile of newly opened mail on her desk. “Is that lot for me?”

“Yes, I was about to bring it through to you.”

She saw his eyes light on the courier package and the ruddy color that had begun to suffuse his cheeks faded rapidly.

“Charles? Are you okay?”

“Stop fussing, woman,” he blustered. “Of course I’m fine. You two had better get going. And take Judd somewhere nice for lunch, too. I don’t expect to see the two of you back here this afternoon. You have a lot of ground to cover.”

Resigning herself to Judd’s company for the rest of the day, she passed the mail to Charles and took her car keys from her handbag. She watched Charles head back into his office and slam the door closed behind him. So, they weren’t to discover the contents of the courier pack until he was ready to share it with them.

“You really don’t have to take me around today if you don’t want to,” Judd said from close by.

“No, it’s okay. Charles wants you to have personal introductions, I understand that.”
I may not like it, but I do understand it,
she amended silently.

“Do you always do exactly as he says?”

“Why wouldn’t I?” she answered, wondering where Judd was leading with his question.

“No reason, I just thought you might stand up to him a bit more.”

“He’d never ask me to do something I truly objected to, if that’s what you’re aiming at,” Anna said defensively.

“That’s good, then. You don’t object to being with me today. Shall we go?”

He smoothly reached out and placed a hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the door. She felt its imprint as if she was naked and hastened to create some distance between them. As his hand fell away, her body instantly mourned his touch and she castigated herself soundly for her ridiculous reaction.

Judd didn’t speak again until they drove out from the underground staff car park in her shiny dark red Lexus IS 250 F-Sport.

“Nice car,” he commented.

“It’s a company car, it has four wheels and gets me where I need to go.”

“Kind of pricey for a company car for a P.A. You must be
very
good at your job.”

There was an insinuation that hung in the air between them that she really didn’t like. But she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of biting back.

“Charles likes to show his appreciation to all his valued staff,” she replied, choosing her words carefully.

“Some more than others, I imagine.”

Again that prick at her relationship with Charles. She knew many people didn’t understand it and she’d learned to shield herself from speculation and unkind comments. It was a skill she’d had to develop early when the children at the private school Charles had paid for had discovered she was his housekeeper/companion’s daughter.

Growing up with the stigma of her mother’s relationship with Charles hanging over her, and the sly innuendo that had accompanied it, had made her a great deal tougher than she looked. It didn’t mean that such comments didn’t hurt, not at all, but there was no way she would give the person inflicting it any satisfaction at all, nor would she divulge more information than she absolutely needed to. And never, ever would she let herself be a woman who got physically involved with her boss.

She started giving Judd a rundown on the major chains that Wilson Wines supplied with imported wines as she drove toward their head office. But he interrupted her almost immediately.

“Who is Wilson Wines’ greatest competition?”

“Jackson Importers. Why do you ask?”

“In any venture, it always pays to know who you’re up against. Tell me about them.”

“They were set up just over twenty-five years ago by Thomas Jackson. He died about a year ago and the company is now headed by Nate Hunter. He’s about your age and he’s been with Jackson since graduating with a business degree from Auckland Uni. That’s pretty much all we know about him. He’s been working out of one of their overseas offices for most of his career and has only recently come to New Zealand to take the reins from the interim CEO. No one’s really too sure what he’s like personally. What we do know is that he has a very competitive business head on his shoulders and he works hard to give us fierce competition. He’s run their European operations superbly for the past few years.”

BOOK: The Wayward Son
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