Wine & Roses (2 page)

“I don’t suppose you’d like to come by the winery for a little tour. I wouldn’t expect you to sell this wonderful inn to a virtual stranger without knowing a little about his business.”

Impulse overriding her usual sense of caution, Abby answered readily, her heart proceeding to batter against the walls of her chest. “That sounds nice.”

His broad mouth widened into a gorgeous smile. “I’ll be waiting for you at eight o’clock. When you arrive, ring the buzzer and I’ll show you in.”

“See you then.”

As the door swung closed behind him, Abby sank onto a bar stool, waiting for her galloping heart to slow its pace.
Calm down, Abby, it’s only a tour, not a date,
she reminded herself sternly
.
Still, she felt a little like a teenager who had just been asked to the prom. Laying her hands on the bar, she noticed a slight tremble in her fingers.

At the same time she observed with dismay the deepening creases in her knuckles, and the bluish cast of the veins winding beneath her skin. Her hands still had a clear and even tone, but they were noticeably less smooth and supple than they had been when she was younger.

Pivoting the stool toward the mirror to study her face again, turning to the right and then the left, Abby frowned at the fine lines she’d only recently noticed forming between her eyebrows and at the corners of her mouth. She couldn’t quite get used to the changes brought by age, subtle and gradual as they were.

She swiveled away from the mirror, drawing a deep breath to chase away her qualms. Never mind. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d felt such a quiver of sweet anticipation in her belly. Right now she felt younger than she had in years, and she intended to make the most of it.

Chapter Two

Uncorking a bottle of Brinleigh Estate Pinot noir, Jason glanced up at the clock on the far wall, feeling an unexpected swell of exhilaration at the thought of Abby Wells’ imminent arrival.

Before this afternoon he hadn’t seen her in two years, or even thought of her much in that time. Even so, he hadn’t forgotten the impression she made on him that night at her birthday party. Though he’d seen her photo on the jacket of her books and thought she was attractive, in person her vibrancy and grace had utterly captivated him. He had to admit, he’d barely recognized the modestly dressed, bespectacled woman who greeted him when he entered The Roses Inn. But her smile was the same, soft and alluring, and her natural beauty radiated without the benefit of make-up or a glamourous gown.

Though the evening was sultry, Jason kept the winery’s upstairs lounge, adjacent to his office, pleasantly cool. He had brought out a selection of Brinleigh Estate’s signature wines, leaving the whites to chill in the cooler behind the bar while he set the reds on the bar-top beside two of his own crystal wine glasses. The staff had gone home for the day, leaving him alone at the winery. In the quiet, he hummed a tune to himself as he uncorked the Cabernet Franc; it needed a few minutes to breathe before Abby arrived.

He remembered a single glass of champagne had left her giddy at the party, and hoped a few glasses of wine would relax her similarly tonight. Not that he intended to take advantage of her; attractive as she was, and now single, as was he, he couldn’t afford to muddle up his motives in having her here. Jason had a single purpose for ingratiating himself to Abby Wells, and that was to sway her toward selling him the inn that had rightfully belonged to his father.

He was pleased, at least, by what she’d done with the inn. He could hardly believe how good it looked now, much better than it had when his father had owned it. In fact, Jason doubted he would have given the details of its rejuvenation as much attention himself. He didn’t plan on using any underhanded tactics to get his way—that would make him no better than Colin Bennett had been. Anger surged briefly at the thought of the man; Jason couldn’t imagine why a woman as gentle and sweet as Abby Wells would have tied herself to someone so callous and self-centred.

No, he wouldn’t try talking her into something she wasn’t comfortable with. But he would try his best to nudge her in the right direction and let her come to her own conclusion.

Hearing the door buzzer sound downstairs, Jason set down the bottle and hurried down the wide staircase to the foyer, where he pulled open the heavy double doors to find Abby waiting on the step.

He felt a smile of genuine appreciation spread across his face. She wore a knee-length lavender sundress that accentuated a figure that was slender yet pleasingly curvaceous, the flare of her hips tapering to long, shapely legs. Her hair, drawn up untidily that afternoon, now fell about her shoulders in a cloud of soft auburn curls.

“Good evening, Jason,” she said, clutching her purse with both hands.

“Good evening, Abby. Please come in.”

“This place is impressive.” She gazed around the spacious foyer as she stepped inside. “I’ve only really seen the courtyard.”

“I’d be happy to show you around the production area, but why don’t we sample a few wines first?”

“I can’t wait.”

“There’s a tasting bar in the visitor centre, but I think we’ll be more comfortable in the private lounge upstairs.”

Abby nodded her agreement. “Lead the way.”

She followed close behind him as he climbed the staircase back to the upper floor and then led her into the lounge. After she settled onto one of the bar stools, crossing her long legs and folding her hands in her lap, he saw a nervous twitch in her lips when she smiled up at him.

Jason stepped behind the bar, breathing in the sweet fragrance of her perfume as he passed her. “I took the liberty of bringing out some of our signature wines for you to try.”

“I’m not much of a drinker, but I’m game.” Her cheeks glowed pink in anticipation. The inn had been dimly lit, but under the bright lamps in the lounge he could see how pretty her eyes were behind her dark-framed glasses. Fringed with dark lashes, the irises were a captivating amber hue that shimmered in the light.

“I thought we’d try the Riesling first.” Turning to retrieve the bottle from the cooler, he opened it and filled both wine glasses halfway. “You’ll find it’s crisp and refreshing, with fruity overtones.”

Picking up his glass, he swirled the golden liquid and then brought it to his nose to inhale the delicate floral aroma. Watching him, Abby did the same, waiting for him to finally sip the wine before trying it herself.

“Very nice.” She took another, longer taste. “The exceptional reputation of your wines is well deserved. We should serve them at The Roses.”

“I’d be honoured.”

“I can’t help but be impressed by how your father built this place from the ground up,” Abby remarked.

“It was a labour of love,” Jason told her, glad for the opportunity to talk about his father’s passion. “He spent hours out in the vineyard, tending his grapes. If I wanted to spend time with him, I’d have to go out there and help him. It’s a good thing I did. I managed to learn enough about the business to take over when he passed away.”

“Did he die suddenly?” she inquired.

“He had cancer, but it was remarkably quick. He lived only a few months after the diagnosis.” Though he spoke of it impassively, thinking of it now made Jason’s chest tighten uncomfortably.

She gazed down at her glass, a frown creasing her brow. “I’m so sorry about the way Colin treated your father. His insensitivity doesn’t surprise me, but what he did borders on cruelty. Colin didn’t need that inn. He owned dozens of pieces of property.”

“Which you now own,” Jason reminded her.

“Yes.” Her gaze rose sharply to meet his, and at once he questioned his tone. Knowing the care she’d put into renovating The Roses, it was indelicate to imply she should not miss that one property among the rest.

“What’s puzzling is that they used to be friends, years ago,” he said. “I don’t suppose you remember me at your wedding.”

Abby looked surprised. “No. But it was a huge affair. I didn’t lay eyes on half the guests.”

“Two years ago when I met you, I didn’t recognize you as the bride from that wedding. But you wouldn’t have recognized me, either.” Jason remembered being bored beyond tears at the ceremony and reception that followed. “I was a gawky twelve-year-old then.”

In the middle of swallowing the last of her wine, Abby choked, nearly spitting it onto the floor.

“Are you all right?”

“Fine.” She set her glass on the bar-top as she caught her breath. “Twelve? God, I feel ancient.”

“You certainly don’t look it,” Jason told her truthfully.

“Thank you.” A soft smile touched her lips; it was one of those enchanting, unaffected smiles that had mesmerized him at that party two years ago, and its effect on him had not lessened in the least.

“I think you’ll like this one as well.” He retrieved the second bottle of white from the cooler. “It’s a Sauvignon blanc. It’s more herbal, and somewhat zestier than the Riesling.”

Abby held up her glass and he poured some wine into it before filling his own glass.

“So what made you decide to restore the inn?” he asked her, after they had both tasted the wine. “It must have cost you a fortune.”

“Colin left me a comfortable amount of money. The Roses was the only one of his properties that interested me at all. I couldn’t bear to see it torn down.”

“You’ve done a wonderful job with it.”

“I’m glad you approve,” Abby said. He could see she was more relaxed now, her posture less rigid, her delicate hand absently caressing the bowl of her glass.

“Do you plan on running the place yourself?” he wondered.

She shook her head. “I’ve hired a couple of managers to take care of the pub and the guest accommodations. I enjoyed fixing the place up but I’m a writer at heart. I need to get back to that.”

“To do otherwise would be a grave disappointment to your fans, I’m sure.”

Abby took another long swallow of wine, her amber eyes searching his over the rim of her glass. She then set her glass down, and as she considered her next words, she drew her lower lip briefly between her teeth and then released it—a gesture that was reflexive but unwittingly sexy. “You mentioned that your wedding was canceled. Do you mind if I ask what happened?”

Caught off guard by her question, Jason didn’t reply at first.

“Sorry, it’s none of my business,” she added quickly, flustered. “I’m such a lightweight with alcohol, even a few sips makes me say whatever pops into my head before I have a chance to think better of it.”

“It’s all right.” He released a breath before continuing. “Brianna was unfaithful. I found out a few weeks before the wedding was to take place.”

“I’m so sorry.” Abby’s eyes softened, easing the tension brought on by memories of his former fiancée’s betrayal. “That must have been so difficult.”

Jason smiled tightly.
“Better to go through it before the wedding than years later.”

“I wish I’d had the foresight to know what twenty years with Colin was going to be like.” Her tone took on a sour note. “Then I may have reconsidered.”

“You weren’t happy?” Jason rested his elbow on the bar, leaning closer in genuine interest. It didn’t surprise him that Colin Bennett would make a lousy husband; the man seemed to thrive on the misery of others.

One of Abby’s slender shoulders lifted. “At first, I suppose we were. But not for long. I was only twenty-one when we got married. He was thirty-five and he swept me off my feet. But my motives for marrying him were not the purest.” She paused a moment, as though searching for the right words. “You see, my parents had pressured me to go to law school, and I hated it. I only wanted to write. So I dropped out of school and eloped with Colin, both to defy them and because he was wealthy and willing to support me while I wrote my first novel.” She waved a dismissive hand, offering a self-conscious smile. “Why am I telling you all this? I’m sure you’re not interested.”

“On the contrary, I find you very interesting, Abby,” he said—having meant to say he found her
story
interesting, although it was the truth that he spoke. In fact he found both the woman and her account of her marriage so intriguing that he’d almost forgotten his purpose in inviting her here. For the moment he didn’t much care.

“That’s the wine talking.” she said, a flattering dark-pink hue blooming in her cheeks.

“My wines are always expressive, but they never do my talking for me.”

Her gaze flickered away coyly. “Well, I think they are loosening my tongue.”

“You’re charming, with or without a little wine in your system,” Jason said, lifting an eyebrow.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say
you
are trying to charm
me
.”

“Is it working?” he asked with a half-smile, enjoying the evocative banter that had somehow evolved from the dour talk of their failed relationships.

“I’ll let you know.” Abby flushed deeper, glancing at him demurely from under her lashes, her playfully coquettish side on display. He could see she was already feeling the effects of the alcohol, her inhibitions easing, and it aroused a dangerous heat in his belly. He frowned, despite his immense enjoyment of their mutual teasing. He’d been determined not to use the spark of attraction between them to his advantage in winning the inn back from her.