You Really Got Me (14 page)

But now there was no wedding.

Her stomach went tight and she wandered a little farther down the row.

Just one more thing out of her control, dammit—the weather.

She paused and reached out to weigh a cluster of grapes in her hand, then plucked one off. She squeezed the pulp out of it and popped the skin into her mouth. Chewed.

Sensation flooded her taste buds and she closed her eyes to savor it. Nearly there. But not quite yet. Still too green and acidic, thank God. Green had a definite taste. The grapes needed to stay on the vine as long as they could before becoming overripe to maximize the sugars and flavors, but it was stressful, trying to judge the perfect time to harvest. This year, the last few weeks of unseasonably hot temperatures had accelerated the ripening process.

She walked a little farther and tasted another grape. Damn, that one was close. She sighed as she stared at the ripening fruit hanging in heavy clusters.

Château Vioget’s winemaker Michael Lorance was experienced and talented, and so was Garcia Morales, their vineyard manager. She relied on their expertise, but she was always involved in the final decision of when to harvest. And this year Kevin too, would be involved. She hoped.

She loved harvest—finally seeing the results of the growing season with the ripe fruit, heavy with the sweet nectar that would become wine. Harvest was busy, meaning everyone had to pitch in and work hard, including her, with long days and backbreaking work, but she loved it. She just wished it wasn’t going to happen so soon, not with all this other crap going on.

Her booted feet rustled the grass on the path between the rows as she wandered. Alone, with nothing around but birds and grapes and sunshine warming her shoulders, she took another deep breath and let it out slowly, releasing tension along with it.

She was always optimistic, always sure that things would work out. Always determined that she would make
sure
things worked out. That was how she rolled. But it was getting harder and harder to maintain that confidence, that upbeat attitude.

The tension was tying her up in knots—worry about Natalia, worry about Kevin and now sympathy for the Debarros family’s suffering too. The continual ringing of the phone had forced her to shut it off, many of the callers well-intentioned, others, like the news reporters, not so much. She was strung taut, ready to snap, and that was without the additional worry of an early harvest. And Jason. Wondering what was happening between them.

Kendall closed her eyes and turned her face up to the warm sun, pausing at the end of a row. Weariness flowed through her, making her want to sink down onto the ground and sit there among the vines.

“Are you okay?”

She jumped, nerves stretched thin, and whirled around to face Jason. “Ack! Holy mother of cake.” She put a hand to her chest. “Jason. What are you doing here?”

“I came out to talk to you, and to Mr. and Mrs. Debarros.” His presence filled the row, emanating an energy and strength that Kendall wished she could absorb.

“Oh.” Her heart rate zoomed and she took a step closer. “Is there news?”

“No.” He shook his head, pulled his hands out of his pants pockets and reached for her. He settled his hands on her waist and she moved into him, her body lightly touching his.

“Damn,” she said on a sigh. “I don’t understand why you can’t find her.”

“Neither can I.” One corner of his mouth deepened.

She studied him, looking so out of place in the vineyard in black dress pants, a crisp white shirt with the cuffs turned back on strong, tanned forearms and a blue and green silk tie, and yet he looked so good and so solid and strong she wanted to lean on him, lean into him, melt into him. Remembering last night and how tender yet forceful he’d been made her go all soft inside.

Frustration tightened his lips, lips that were full but firmly carved, lips she knew could melt her with one kiss.

“There are things that aren’t adding up,” he continued. “I’m sorry. I know how hard this is for you and Kevin, and Natalia’s parents.”

She leaned her forehead on his chest. “Yeah. We had to cancel the wedding today.”

“Shit.”

“Even if Natalia ran away, she clearly doesn’t want to get married. Kevin wanted to wait as long as possible.” She sighed and lifted her head to meet his eyes. “He’s devastated by this. Everyone feels like if we cancel the wedding, it’s admitting something has happened to Natalia.”

He nodded slowly, his eyes warm.

“I came out here to check the grapes again,” she said, looking away from him toward the grapes. “And because it’s so peaceful out here. But damn…”

“What?” He looked around.

“The grapes are ripening too fast.”

“Oh yeah. You mentioned that last night.”

“The timing of it sucks. With everything that’s going on. Harvest is incredibly busy, and we’re not ready for it.”

“Do you have to harvest right away?”

“We don’t really have a choice, if we want to make the best wine we can. We have to harvest when the grapes are ready. We want to wait as long as possible, but not too long. We have to make sure the grapes are perfectly ripe, but not too ripe. It has to be the perfect time.”

He chuckled. “That sounds vague. How do you know how long is long enough but not too long?”

She smiled too. “It’s an art. And a science. We can use a refractometer to test the sugar content of the grapes, but the sugar level is only one factor. The most important is flavor, so I like to taste the grapes. So does Kevin. Our winemaker does both. He’s a bit of a scientist and an artist. He’s amazingly talented. I…I learned this business mostly by trial and error, and I’ve learned a lot from him, but I don’t have the same skills he has.” She made a self-deprecating face at Jason. “Kevin has his degree in enology and viticulture, so now he’s getting more involved.”

“What happens if the grapes get too ripe?”

“The wine could have too high an alcohol content. It might not have the elegance and complexity we want our wines to have. We always try to make the very best wines we possibly can.”

His eyes warmed as he looked down at her. “I think you have a lot more skills than you give yourself credit for.”

She blinked at him.

“I’ve never been in a vineyard.”

“Really?” She blinked again. “I guess that’s not unusual. But since I grew up in a vineyard, it seems strange. This is where it all starts.” She extended a hand. “The quality of the wine depends on the grapes. How we grow them. The love and care we give them. The
terroir
.”

“The…?”

She smiled. “The
terroir.
The land. That indefinable something that comes from the earth and the sun and the water that gives the grapes their quality. There’s no real English word for it.” She started walking up the next row and he fell in beside her. They strolled between walls of green and gold and purple. “Wine is a celebration of life. The embodiment of the earth. It’s power and elegance and beauty.”

“Power and elegance and beauty.” He touched her arm to stop her, and they faced each other again. “That describes you.”

She looked up at him. Their eyes met and held, and her insides went soft. “Oh,” she said on a sigh. “I think that’s the nicest compliment I’ve ever had.”

It was true. The passion she’d talked about had lit up her face and sparkled in her dark eyes. The elegance and power she’d spoken of shone in her smile and warmed her voice. She didn’t recognize her own strength and power, the power of a submissive, but it was there, inside her. Sunlight gleamed on her dark hair as she stood among the vines, dressed in a pair of jeans, a black T-shirt and boots. He’d seen her dressed in elegant clothes, a little black dress and sexy spiky-heeled shoes, at those charity dinners. He’d seen her last night in his bed, wearing only his shirt, her hair all tousled and lips swollen. She could look so different, but she always looked beautiful and strong and amazing.

When she’d been talking about the grapes and reached out and cupped from below a hanging bunch of heavy grapes, the gesture had immediately made him think of her touching him like that. His balls tightened and his dick went hard. Jesus.

As they looked at each other and heat shimmered around them, his gaze dropped to her mouth, soft and warm, a passionate mouth that echoed the emotion in her voice moments ago. He moved closer to her as if pulled by a magnet, their gazes locked on each other. “Kendall.” He smoothed a strand of hair off her face, lifted his other hand to cradle her cheek, then let his fingers glide through the silky strands over her scalp, around behind to gently cup her head. She was so pretty. Trying to be so strong. He wanted to wrap her up and protect her from all this shit.

Her lips parted. Her throat moved as she swallowed. His body tightened.

Every cell in his body wanted her, wanted to haul her up against him and taste her. His hand slid lower, to the back of her neck, his thumb caressed her jaw. Soft. So soft. He bent his head and brushed his mouth over hers. Once. Twice. Her hands came up and settled on his waist. Then his lips clung to hers and their mouths parted, slowly, in a long, lush kiss.

His tongue slid over her bottom lip and he breathed her in, cupping her face with his hand, tilting her head ever so slightly to deepen the kiss, and she moved into him, moved into the kiss, her body touching his and sending heat cascading through him. He opened his mouth over hers and she made a small noise in her throat, a sweet, female noise of pleasure that had blood rushing to his groin. Hot and sweet, her little tongue slid against his and her fingers dug into his waist, pulling him closer still, into full body contact. Oh man.

He drew back and rested his forehead against hers, heart thudding painfully in his chest, eyes closed. “Shit.”

She gave a choked little laugh. “Not a flattering reaction,” she whispered.

He smiled, didn’t move. “That wasn’t what I meant. Christ, Kendall. I want to do you right here, right now. In the middle of all these vines.”

She looked up at him through her eyelashes, such a sultry, sexy look he damn near decided to forget the real reason he’d come out there. “So do it. No one’s around.”

Fuck.
He struggled to breathe. They stood like that for a long moment, him still holding the nape of her neck. He could smell the lush, exotic scent of her—spicy and delicious, like amber and vanilla, warm from the sun. Her full breasts rose and fell, slightly and quickly. The leaves rustled as a faint breeze stirred them.

“You’re gonna hate me,” he finally said in a low voice.

She drew back and looked up into his eyes. “Because you’re not going to do me in the vineyard?”

“No. Because we need Kevin to come in for a polygraph test.”

Chapter Ten

“What?” She jerked away from him.

“We have to do it,” he soothed, his voice gentle, his hands firm on her. “He was one of the last people to see her. We have to cover everything.”

“A polygraph test! You think he’s lying about something?”

Kendall’s gut clenched at that, because she knew there were things Kevin wasn’t telling her, or the police. Crappity crap crap. She rubbed her hands up and down her upper arms.

“That’s not what we’re saying. It’s okay, Kendall. Everything’ll be okay if he just tells the truth.”

Her lungs seized and breathing became difficult, her stomach so knotted she couldn’t think straight. “Yes,” she managed to say. “Of course.”

They walked back to the house, which wasn’t as far away as it had seemed when they stood there surrounded by grapevines and swallows and sunshine. Detective Janko was there and had already spoken to Kevin. Stone-faced, Kevin agreed to go to the police station for the polygraph test. And then Jason and Detective Janko left.

But as they left, Jason moved closer to her and murmured in her ear, “Come to my place tonight.”

She bit her lip. Holy mother of fuck! He was taking her brother in for a polygraph test! And she was supposed to go to his place and have more hot sex?

Or maybe he wanted to talk. Although more hot sex sounded pretty good.

They didn’t tell Mr. and Mrs. Debarros about the test. Kendall had no idea what they would think of that. Would they start to wonder if Kevin had done something wrong? Did they already? There’d been no hint on their part that they’d even considered that, despite the ferocious worry that clearly consumed both of them.

 
She made dinner for Mr. and Mrs. Debarros, although none of them had much appetite. Shortly after, Maria pushed back her chair. “I’m going to bed now.” Her husband stood too. Kendall rose and hugged Maria, her heart heavy for the couple’s distress.

“Is there anything you need?” Kendall asked. “Tea? Aspirin?” Maria had been having terrible headaches. “A glass of wine?”
Animal crackers?
She almost snorted.

“No, thank you.” Maria hugged her back tightly. “Thank you, Kendall. You have been so good to us. What would we have done without you?”

Kendall’s insides twisted a little at that, again feeling she didn’t deserve that kind of gratitude. She’d done nothing, really. They said good night and left Kendall there alone.

“So tired,” Maria murmured, leaning on Juan as they walked toward the stairs.