The Wayward Son

The Wayward Son
Yvonne Lindsay









“Don’t you ever wonder?”

“Wonder what?” she asked, her voice that husky whisper that did crazy things to him.

“What it will be like when we kiss again.”

“Who said we’ll kiss again?”

“Oh, we will. Don’t you want to know if what happened the first time will happen again? Whether we could be that good, again?”

She blinked and drew in a breath, the word no beginning to form on her lips. The sound never made it out as he closed the short distance between them, caressing her lips with his.

The sensation that shuddered through his body was intense. Even more potent than the last time. He stepped closer, aligning his body with hers. She met his assault with a parry of her own, clinging to him.

His need to possess her overwhelmed everything else—every need, every thought, other than one. He wanted Anna Garrick like he’d never wanted anything in his life before.


Dear Reader,

Once again a historical home has inspired a story idea—well, in this case, multiple story ideas.

I had the great good fortune to be invited to speak at the South Australian Romance Authors one-day workshop in May of 2010, and in the days afterward I was shown some of the stunning countryside through the Adelaide Hills and beyond. During the workshop day, one of the attendees, a marriage celebrant, was telling us about one of the most interesting weddings she’d conducted in the ruins of a gothic mansion high on the hills. I didn’t have time to actually visit the ruins at Marble Hill, but I did spend a lot of time on their website fascinated by the building, its destruction and the current plans to rebuild it to its former glory. A spark of an idea formed.

With my mind ticking away, I had the additional brain power of my good friend Trish Morey to storm up some ideas, and by the time I arrived home those ideas began to morph into this new miniseries, starting with The Wayward Son and continuing with A Forbidden Affair.

In many ways creating the backstory of these books was just as fascinating as creating the books themselves, and I look forward to bringing you more of THE MASTER VINTNERS in coming years.

Happy reading!

Yvonne Lindsay




About the Author


New Zealand born, to Dutch immigrant parents, YVONNE LINDSAY became an avid romance reader at the age of thirteen. Now, married to her “blind date” and with two fabulous children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life. She can be contacted via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.




The Wayward Son

Yvonne Lindsay





www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)


To E.M.

—In the immortal words of Casper, “Can I keep you?”




One


She hadn’t seen anything quite this beautiful in forever. The exquisitely colored autumnal landscape aside, the figure of the man chopping wood in the distance, shirt off, muscles rippling in the still-warm Adelaide Hills sunshine, was quite enough to remind Anna of every hormonal response her body was capable of. And then some.

Never averse to indulging in appreciation of the male form—even if her busy work-filled schedule meant she rarely did anything about it—she walked a little closer. A tingle of awareness skimmed across her skin, raising goose bumps on the surface, which had nothing to do with the hint of evening breeze that rolled through the hills. It was only when she was about twenty meters from him that recognition hit her with all the subtlety of a bucket of ice water.

Judd Wilson.

Her entire reason for being in Australia.

Although they’d never met, there was no mistaking Charles Wilson’s son. Obviously tall, Judd had dark hair and warmly tanned skin stretched over a physique that was the epitome of every woman’s fantasy. His sharply sculpted features hinted at a resemblance to his father. She’d hazard a guess his eyes were the same piercing blue, as well.

Anna was surprised when her inner muscles clenched on a purely instinctive female reaction and her heart stuttered a little in her chest. She hadn’t responded this strongly to anyone in a while, and she sure as hell never expected to feel so drawn to the son of the man who was not only her employer, but practically a father to her. She drew in a deep breath and forced back the flood of attraction that threatened to swamp her anew—reminding herself that she was here on business. She’d made a promise to Charles—a promise she fully intended to keep.

His instructions had been painfully clear. Somehow she had to persuade Judd Wilson to come home to New Zealand, before the father he hadn’t seen in more than two decades died.

Anna took a few more tentative steps through the pathway designated amongst the rows and rows of grapevines that striated the land. Her eyes were fixed on the male figure working ahead of her—the man completely oblivious to the bombshell she was about to drop on his world. She paused for a moment, sudden nerves weakening her resolve.

Judd had been only six years old when his parents’ divorce resulted in his and his mother’s leaving New Zealand—not to mention leaving Charles, and Judd’s baby sister, Nicole—behind for good. Did he even remember his father? Would he be pleased at the chance to reconcile, or would he be bitter over all the lost years?

Anxiety over Judd’s potential reaction was swiftly followed by a swirl of familiar anger and defensiveness on Charles’s behalf. If it hadn’t been for Cynthia Masters-Wilson’s deceptions, Charles would never have been separated from his son in the first place. Anna hadn’t yet met the woman who had torn apart Charles’s very reasons for existence, and she certainly wasn’t looking forward to it. No doubt it would prove to be a necessary evil at some stage, but for now her focus was on meeting Charles’s son and on gauging what his response to his father’s contact would be. Her intense physical reaction to him now promised to make that a little more complicated than Anna had anticipated.

She was here with a job to do, she reminded herself sternly, even as her eyes flicked back toward Judd’s sun-kissed torso one more time. She couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted. Perhaps right now was not the best time to meet him and try to broach the topic. This was a matter that would require good timing and not a small amount of finesse if she was to be successful, and she owed it to Charles to be successful. Lord only knew he’d done more than enough for her family over the years. The least she could do in return was bring some peace of mind to the man who had supported Anna and her late mother for most of Anna’s life. She couldn’t just barge in and potentially destroy her one opportunity to bring Judd Wilson home.

She took a turn in a different direction, determined now to create some distance between herself and the very man she’d flown almost five hours to see. There would be time enough during her stay here at The Masters’ Vineyard and Accommodation, she reasoned with herself. She had to tread this road very carefully if she was going to succeed.

Despite her best intentions, she didn’t get very far.

“Hi, there,” a voice as rich and sensual as a classic Shiraz called out from behind her. “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”

She couldn’t ignore him now—not when it was vital she make a good impression. Anna braced herself as she turned around to face her boss’s son.

Must be the new guest for the accommodation side of the business, Judd thought to himself as he watched the woman come closer. His cousin Tamsyn sent an update to all staff at the vineyard at the beginning of each week as to which of the luxurious cottages on the property would be accommodating guests for the coming days. She certainly hadn’t mentioned that their newest visitor was so stunning.

Judd narrowed his eyes and tracked the movements of the woman in the blue dress as she approached. She walked with a gracefulness that belied the uneven ground she strolled along, and there was a sensual sway to her hips that sent a jolt of pure male appreciation rocketing through his body.

“Judd Wilson, welcome to The Masters’.” Judd shifted the ax to his left hand so he could reach out his right to shake. She smiled in response, a slow movement of her lips that made his groin tighten almost imperceptibly, but the effect when she placed her hand in his was unmistakable. Raw need, hot and greedy, unfurled with latent intent. Interesting. Very interesting. Perhaps he’d found a solution to the boredom that had been plaguing him for weeks. He smiled back and clasped her hand firmly.

“Hi, I’m Anna Garrick,” she said, her voice husky.

Her eyes searched his face keenly. As if she was looking for something. Perhaps some spark of recognition from him? No, the instant he thought of it, he eschewed the idea. If he’d ever met Anna Garrick before, he had no doubt he’d have remembered her.

From the top of her burnished dark chestnut-colored hair to her perfectly proportioned body and the tips of her painted toenails, she was his every fantasy. Even her voice—slightly soft, slightly rough—stroked his senses in a way he could never forget.

“Lovely to meet you, Anna. Did you arrive today?”

Her eyes flicked away, as if she was suddenly nervous—or hiding something. Judd felt his instincts go on alert.

“Yes, I did. It’s wonderful here. You’re so lucky to live in such a beautiful area. Have you … worked here long?” The question was innocent, but he’d caught the slight hesitation, as if she’d started out with the intention of asking something else.

“You could say that,” Judd replied, his smile tightening. “It’s something of a Masters family business—I grew up here.”

“But your name …”

Ah, yes, his name. The reminder of the father who cast him aside all those years ago—and the reason why, even as the very successful head of The Masters’ far-flung interests, some of his cousins still never quite treated him like he belonged.

“My mother is Cynthia Masters-Wilson,” he replied. No need to go into details. Not when there were so many more pleasurable things he’d like to discuss with this woman.

“And do all Masters chop wood for the winery fireplaces?” she teased.

“But of course,” he replied in kind. “Anything at all we can do to make your stay more … pleasurable.” That certainly sounded better than admitting that he’d needed the tension release after an incredibly frustrating day of work.

Some days were like that. Bashing at the keys on a laptop didn’t quite cut it when you just needed to get physical. And when his choices were either to chop wood or to resort to physical violence against his cousin Ethan, Judd had, reluctantly, chosen chopping wood.

Of course, Ethan really did need someone to knock his head straight. The man might run the winemaking side of the business with undeniable skill—their stock of award-winning wines was proof enough of that—but he was so stuck in his ways, he might as well be cemented in place. Ethan was devoted to maintaining the integrity and superiority of the wines that were synonymous with The Masters’ brand. With the current glut of certain wine varieties on the local market, Judd was equally adamant that Ethan needed to diversify. He’d been suggesting it from the day the first projections about the excesses had arisen some years ago. His cousin was like a bear with a sore head on the issue and even more stubborn with it.

Yes, he definitely needed the distraction Ms. Garrick provided.

“And I do hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything at all I can do for you,” he added.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “But I can’t think of anything I need at the moment. My plan for now is just to enjoy a ramble through these lovely grounds before it gets too dark.”

“Then I’ll let you return to it. But I’ll be seeing you at dinner tonight?”

“Dinner?”

“Yes, we have a family dinner to welcome the new guests every week. There would have been an invitation in your welcome pack when you checked in. It begins with drinks in the formal sitting room of the main house at seven o’clock.” Judd stepped closer, taking hold of her hand again. “You will be there, won’t you?”

“Yes, I’d like that.”

“Excellent,” he murmured. “Until then.” He lifted her hand, brushing his lips against the back in a soft kiss. She seemed taken aback for a moment, but then she gave him another slow, delicious smile before walking away. Judd leaned on the ax handle and watched her go. Shadows were beginning to creep along the foothills. He looked up to the ruins of the gothic mansion that crowned the nearby peak.

The charred remains were all that was left of the original Masters home. Years after its destruction, it remained a symbol of the family’s past glory and their fight to rebuild a world that had been burned to the ground in a devastating sweep of ravenous bushfire. You had to admire a family that had had every marker of their wealth laid to waste, but who had fought back, tooth and nail, to be where they were today.

He was proud to be a part of that heritage. Despite his name, he was as much a Masters as any one of his many cousins and had just as much right to be here. Even so, he’d always felt as if he was an outsider. It had made him work twice as hard to prove his worth, and that work ethic had pushed The Masters’ forward and onto a global platform beyond the family’s expectations since he’d taken over as head of operations.

But perhaps he’d been too work-focused lately. It had been a while since he’d let loose. His duties here had consumed him for months now. Today, he’d finally admitted to himself that, no matter how hard he pushed himself, he was bored. Life, work, everything lacked the challenge he craved. A little light flirtation with the lovely Anna Garrick could be the perfect antithesis to the frustrations he was facing.

Judd methodically stacked the pile of logs he’d split and put away his tools before heading for his suite of rooms and having a much-needed shower. The prospect of another evening with his family suddenly held a great deal more appeal than it had after his latest altercation with Ethan’s inflexible attitude.

Perhaps he’d found the challenge he was seeking after all.

Judd’s hair was still slightly damp when he made his way into the formal sitting room, where whichever members of the Masters clan who were resident gathered for drinks with the guests before dinner. It was an old-fashioned habit, one that had its roots firmly linked to the ruins on the hill and a lifestyle long since gone, but one which still held a certain charm and which had no doubt been integral in keeping the family so firmly knit together.

Sunset brought a deeper chill to the air outside, which was offset by the crackling fire in the large stone fireplace. He cast a glance around the room, giving a grim-lipped nod briefly in Ethan’s direction before smiling at his mother, who sat, with her usual supreme elegance, on one of the chairs near the fireplace. No sign of the new guest yet.

He crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a half glass of The Masters’ pinot noir. As he did so, he saw the object of his intentions hover in the doorway. He moved toward her immediately, but his mother—ever vigilant—beat him there. As he approached, he could hear her questioning Anna.

“Excuse me for being so forward, but you do look familiar to me. Have you stayed here before?” Cynthia asked.

To his surprise, a swiftly masked look of shock flitted across Anna’s face.

“N-no,” she replied. “This is my first visit to South Australia, although I hope it won’t be my last.”

She smiled, but her eyes still held a shadow of the shock he’d seen earlier. Was she lying? His instincts honed to a sharper edge. Ms. Garrick was becoming very interesting indeed.

“Perhaps you have a double out there. They say we all do.” Cynthia glossed over any awkwardness with an arch of one expertly plucked brow. “Tell me, what can Judd get you to drink, my dear?”

“A glass of sauvignon blanc would be lovely, thank you. I hear you recently were awarded two golds for your sauvs.”

“Yes, we were. We’re very proud of Ethan and what he’s doing with the wines,” Cynthia said with a pointed look toward her son that told Judd his cousin had probably already apprised her of their earlier dispute. “Aren’t we, Judd?”

“He’s a master, that’s for sure,” Judd agreed.

His double entendre didn’t go unnoticed by his mother, who flung him a silent rebuke with her expressive eyes, before apparently deciding it would be a suitable punishment to him to lead Anna away and introduce her to the other members of the family. Judd was forced to admit that his mother had chosen her chastisement well—Anna was the only one in the room whose company he truly wanted tonight.

He stood with one hand in his trouser pocket and observed Anna’s movements as she was introduced to Cynthia’s two older brothers and then Ethan. The instant his cousin stood to welcome the newcomer, Judd’s hackles rose and every feral instinct inside of him leaped to the fore.

Something must have shown on his face, because he didn’t miss the spark of interest in Ethan’s eye before his cousin leaned forward to say something to Anna. Something which made her laugh. The sound itself was enough to send his blood humming along his veins, but knowing it was Ethan who had brought that laugh to her delectable lips set his teeth on edge.

Determined not to give his cousin the satisfaction of knowing just how much, and how surprisingly, his action had riled him, Judd turned to welcome Ethan’s sister, Tamsyn, as she appeared in the door.

“I see you’ve already met our latest guest,” she commented, removing his untouched pinot noir from his hands and taking a sip. Her brand-new engagement ring flashed brilliantly in the overhead lights. “Mmm, good. Can you pour me one?”

“Have this one, I haven’t touched it.”

“Thanks,” Tamsyn answered with a smile.

“That fiancé of yours not here with you tonight?”

“No, he’s still in the city—working.” Her warm brown eyes searched his face. “You look tense. Is everything okay?”

Judd forced a smile to his lips. Tamsyn always had the unerring ability to sense when something was wrong with him.

“Nothing that won’t be sorted when your brother learns to pay as much attention to market trends as he does to our guests,” he commented.

Tamsyn laughed. “Oh, well, good luck with that, cuz. You know market trends are the last thing Ethan concerns himself with. But I wouldn’t growl too much about that.” She nodded in Anna’s direction. “You know Ethan’s partial to blondes. And this particular brunette keeps sneaking glances at you, anyway. Have you met her yet?”

Judd nodded, letting his gaze track back to Anna’s slender form and drinking in the smooth lines of her body, allowing a satisfaction-filled smile to cross his face when he realized his cousin was right—Anna’s attention wandered in his direction several times. “Did she say what she was doing here in Adelaide?”

“No, I just assumed it was a short vacation. She didn’t say much when she rang to make the booking.”

“A short vacation?”

“I’m sure you’ll have plenty of time to get to know her,” Tamsyn teased. “But yeah, she’s only here four days.”

“I’d better not let her waste any more of her time here, then,” he replied. “If you’ll excuse me.”

Without waiting for Tamsyn’s reply he made his way across the room and to Anna’s side. She turned and gave him a smile.

“It must be lovely being able to work with your extended family like this,” she said. “Ethan’s been filling me in on what you all do.”

“It has its benefits, certainly,” Judd agreed. “Tell me, have you planned any extended sightseeing while you’re here? As luck would have it, I find myself with a couple of days with little to do and I’d love to show you around if you’re keen.”

Anna told herself to remain calm. This was exactly the opportunity she needed. Time alone with Judd Wilson would help her to better find out what he was like. She knew Charles had expected her to simply make an appointment with him and to give him the letter that even now burned a hole in her evening bag, but despite Charles’s directive, she wanted to understand her boss’s son just a little more before she took that step. God only knew that Charles had borne his fair share of disappointment in his lifetime and, if she had her way, his last years would be quite the opposite.

As much as Charles longed to be reunited with Judd, Anna knew that Charles was braced for his son’s refusal. That was why he’d told no one but Anna how crucial it was to him to bring Judd back into the fold. Charles had sworn her to complete secrecy, not allowing her to tell even his daughter, Nicole, who had subtly taken up the reins of the company when Charles first got sick, any of the details of this trip. The cone of silence rankled, especially when Nicole was her best friend and they all not only worked together, but lived under the same roof, as well. Anna couldn’t help but feel that she was betraying Nicole by doing all of this behind her back.

It was for Charles’s sake, she reminded herself. And Charles deserved her very best efforts to convince his son to come home. If only she knew what the best approach was for her to take!

Instinct told her that Judd might be more receptive if she hid her true purpose for a little while longer and got him to open up to her more before she revealed the truth of her visit. But the purely female part of her worried that the longer she put off her business, the harder it would be for her to resist the powerful draw pulling her toward him. She chose her response to Judd Wilson’s suggestion carefully.

“Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose on you. It’s my first visit to the region and I can already tell I haven’t left myself enough time to enjoy it fully.”

Judd leaned in closer. “Maybe we can entice you to come back again.”

His words sent a shiver of anticipation across her skin. If the man got any more enticing she’d need a chillingly cold shower before the night was through. This visceral reaction to Judd Wilson was an unexpected complication she wasn’t quite sure how to handle. But at least his reply showed her one thing—he was definitely willing to let her get to know him better … at least for as long as she hid the truth.

A dinner bell sounded down the hall, saving her from making a response. Judd offered her his arm.

“May I escort you to the table?”

Anna hesitated a moment before tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. “Are you always this formal?” she asked.

He shot her a look, a fierce blue blaze of fire in his eyes that let her know in no uncertain terms that he himself could be very informal, indeed. Her body reacted on an unconscious level. Her nipples tightened, her breasts suddenly full and aching with a desire to be touched. Everything in her body tensed, drawing her into a heightened state of awareness.

“When I need to be,” he responded with a smile that was pure wicked intent from the curve of his lips to the light that gleamed in his eyes.

Anna forced herself to break eye contact. The compelling power of his male beauty was quite enough to take her breath away and to addle her wits along with it. Maybe getting to know Judd Wilson wasn’t such a good idea after all. As Charles’s assistant, she had the opportunity to interact with many powerful and compelling men, but never before had she dealt with a man with such effortless charisma.

The next few days suddenly took on an edge of uncertainty. What on earth had she let herself in for?




Two


The long wooden table in the formal dining room had been set with a dazzling array of china, crystal and cutlery. Anna sent a silent prayer of thanks that her upbringing in Charles Wilson’s home meant that such a setting didn’t faze her. Charles had insisted she have all the same social advantages Nicole enjoyed, even if—with her mother’s position as Charles’s housekeeper and companion—she hadn’t had anywhere near the same financial background.

Seated near the top of the table, at Judd’s right, Anna could observe the family dynamics in action. It was clear that Cynthia was very much the female head of the household. If Judd Wilson physically resembled his father, his estranged sister, Nicole, was her mother personified.

Anna studied Cynthia from her vantage point at the table. This was what her friend would look like in another twenty-five years—without, perhaps, the faint lines of bitterness that bracketed the older woman’s mouth. That said, and despite the swish of gray at her temples that contrasted to her thick, dark hair, Cynthia Masters-Wilson was still a striking woman.

She carried herself with an almost regal air—expecting everyone to defer to her wishes and not holding back her disapproval if those wishes were not observed. Anna wondered briefly what Cynthia had been like early in her marriage to Charles, and found herself caught by the older woman’s very intent gaze. Giving her hostess a smile, Anna tore her eyes away, mildly horrified that she’d been caught staring. The last thing she wanted to do was attract attention to herself.

There was a strong bond between Cynthia and her son, too, Anna observed. Judd, it seemed, was the only one capable of defusing his mother’s rather autocratic attitude and bringing a genuine smile of warmth to her fine features. So why then, when her son was obviously so important to her, had Cynthia left behind her one-year-old daughter, Nicole, when she’d returned to Australia? Had she ever taken a moment to think about the baby girl she’d left behind and what impact her abandonment would have on that infant’s life?

Anna had come to Australia full of sympathy for Charles, who had been so hurt by Cynthia’s actions during their marriage. But seeing the woman now just brought home how badly Nicole had been cheated, as well.

“You’re looking serious. Is everything okay with your meal?” Judd asked softly in her ear.

The gentle caress of his warm breath made her skin tingle, and she forced her concentration back from where she’d let it lead her. Anna shook her head.

“No, everything is wonderful, thank you.”

“Is it something else that’s bothering you?” he pressed, reaching across the table in front of him to lift a bottle of wine to top off her glass.

Just you, she thought before giving her head a shake.

“I’m perhaps a little tired, that’s all.”

“We can be a bit overwhelming, can’t we?” he commented.

“No, it’s not that. Actually, I envy you this. I’m an only child, as were both my parents. To have so many family members all in one place … Well, you’re lucky.”

“Yes, we are lucky—and equally cursed at the same time,” he said with a charming wink that took the sting out of the latter part of his statement.

And Nicole should have had the chance to be a part of this, too, Anna added silently. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to drive Charles and Cynthia, and their children, apart. Whatever it was, Charles had flatly refused to discuss it, aside from saying that Cynthia had betrayed his trust—something she knew that Charles considered unforgivable. Whatever it was, Anna knew that it had not only ruined his marriage, but it had led to a major rift between himself and his business partner also. So many lives altered. And here she was, trying to mend a fence. Boy, was she ever out of her depth.

By the time the meal had progressed to coffee and dessert, Anna asked to be excused from the table, pleading tiredness. The gentlemen at the table stood as she moved her chair back, and she found herself completely charmed by the effortless old-world manners.

“Thank you all so much for your company tonight, and for dinner,” she said.

“You’re very welcome, Anna. Just let housekeeping know tomorrow if you’ll be joining us again during your stay,” Cynthia said graciously. “Do you have anything special planned for tomorrow?”

“We’ll be doing some sightseeing and then I’m taking her into Hahndorf for lunch,” Judd interjected.

“Oh?”

Cynthia hid her surprise but not before giving her son a sharp look that gave Anna no doubt that his mother would be grilling him on his choice of companion the minute she left the room. Cynthia composed her features into a bland smile. “Well, then, I hope you enjoy our little taste of Germany. Sleep well.”

“Thank you,” Anna replied and turned to leave the room.

To her surprise, Judd followed her. As they reached the front door she stopped.

“Why did you tell your mother you’re taking me out tomorrow?”

“Because I am,” he said confidently. “You can’t visit the Adelaide Hills without stopping at Hahndorf, as well. It would be culturally insensitive.”

“Culturally insensitive or not, I got the impression she wasn’t too pleased about it.”

“She thinks I don’t work hard enough, but that’s my problem, not yours.”

He opened the front door and gestured for her to precede him. Out on the narrow road that led to the restored pioneer’s cottage where she was staying, Anna felt the night air close in around her with its frigid arms. She shivered, wishing she’d thought to bring her pashmina with her when she’d come across to the house earlier.

“At the risk of being cliché,” Judd said, removing his dinner jacket and dropping it over her shoulders, “I think you need this more than I do.”

“Thank you,” she said softly.

He wasn’t kidding. Judging by the heat of his body still held in the lining of his jacket, he certainly had no need of the garment. She instantly felt warmed by it. A faint waft of spice, blended intrinsically with a hint of vanilla and woody notes, enveloped her. She recognized the scent as Judd’s cologne and felt her bones begin to melt.

“The nights can be quite cool here from now on. The staff will have lit the fire in your cottage for you. It should be lovely and warm compared to out here.”

Anna had an instant and vivid flashback to watching Judd chopping wood this afternoon. Did he accomplish everything with that much vigor?

“It’s still a beautiful night,” she said, looking upward at the inky darkness of the sky peppered with dots of light—anything to distract her from the influence of what he did to her.

“Certainly is.”

There was something about his voice that made her drop her gaze and meet his. He was looking straight at her. Despite the fact that at least a meter separated them, she felt as if he’d reached out and touched her. Anna swallowed against the sudden dryness that parched her throat. This man was sensuality personified. With only one look, he had her virtually a quivering mess of longing.

She barely knew him and yet she was already on the verge of casting all her careful self-imposed rules to the four corners of the earth and inviting him to explore this overwhelming attraction between them. And she knew her feelings were reciprocated. She could feel the energy and tension fairly vibrating off him. What would he be like when he lost control, she wondered, allowing herself to dwell for only a moment on the idea before slamming it back behind her all too weak defenses.

She broke eye contact before she could do something totally out of character, and began to walk a little more briskly along the path. Judd silently kept pace with her. At the cottage, he waited as she opened the front door. She shrugged off his coat and handed it to him.

“Thank you again.”

“You’re welcome,” he replied.

Why didn’t he just turn and go? She felt a flush rise in her cheeks. Did he expect her to invite him in? The cottage came with both a well-stocked kitchen and wet bar complete with a wine chiller, she’d noticed on checking in earlier today. But what kind of message would that send, she wondered, if she asked him to join her for coffee, or a drink? One thing she knew for certain was where it would lead—straight to the luxuriously appointed bedroom, and a steamier, wilder night than any she’d had in years.

The thought aroused her as much as it scared her. She wasn’t the kind of woman who hopped in bed with a man she’d barely met, and she’d never mixed business and pleasure before in her life. If she gave in to Judd’s advances now, where would it leave her when she had to tell him the truth about why she was here?

“You’re thinking again,” Judd said, his lips twitching with a barest hint of a smile.

“I do that a lot,” she admitted.

“Here, think on this, then.”

Somehow he’d closed the distance between them without her noticing. His hand snaked around the back of her neck—his fingers warm against her cooler skin. Her face automatically tilted up toward his, her lips parting on a silent protest. She knew the protest was futile. She wanted this as much as he did, and she was helpless to ignore the demand.

His mouth, when it captured hers, was gentle, coaxing, and Anna felt as if he’d lit a fire that ran through her veins. A small part of her had hoped his kiss would be disappointing—something that would make it easier to refuse his attentions. In all honesty, she had known to the depths of her soul that his touch would be like this—magic—and she wanted that magic with every cell in her body.

She fisted her hands at her sides in an effort to prevent herself from reaching out and touching him. It would be too much, too difficult to step away from, but the way his lips teased hers invited her closer, and before she knew it, her hands were pressed against his chest, the fiery warmth of his skin burning through the expensive cotton of his shirt and letting her know that he could set other hidden parts of her aflame if only she’d let him.

His chest muscles shifted beneath her hands as he lifted his other arm to curve around her waist, drawing her closer to him. Hip to hip, there was no denying he was as powerfully aroused as she. Tension built in her body, coiling tight as he deepened their kiss and coaxed her lips open with his probing tongue.

He tasted of fine wine and illicit, unspoken promises. Promises that made her clench her thighs together against the swell of desire that rippled through her body before centering at the core of her belly. She rocked her pelvis against him, the movement a futile attempt to assuage the pressure building inside of her. Instead, it only incited her further. Anna kissed him back with a passion she’d never unleashed before, meeting his tongue with her own, letting him know that she was no innocent bystander in this assault on her senses.

She lifted her hands from his chest, sliding them upward, over his shoulders and the strong column of his neck, and burrowed her fingers in his dark hair, holding him to her as his lips devoured hers, as hers did his. She pressed her body against him, her nipples taut and sensitive against the lace of her bra, her breasts aching for his touch.

The call of a night bird punctuated the air, its unfamiliar sound bringing Anna back to her surroundings. Bringing her mind back to the task she’d been sent here to execute.

She untangled her fingers from Judd’s hair, and let her hands drop to her sides once more. Their kiss, when it ended, was more bittersweet than she’d imagined, the loss of his caress felt deep inside. Judd rested his forehead against hers, his eyes still closed, his lips moist and slightly parted on an uneven breath. It would be so easy to kiss him again but she knew that if she did, it wouldn’t stop there. Not with this conflagration that had ignited between them.

A kiss, a good-night kiss, was all it should have been and yet it had escalated into so very much more. She wasn’t in a position to let that happen. She didn’t dare explore this further, not without some truths between them, and she wasn’t ready to tell Judd exactly what she was here for just yet.

The atmosphere between them was filled with possibilities, yet Anna knew she could choose only one. To say good-night and to let Judd go back to the main house.

“Is this how you say good-night to all your guests?” she asked, in an attempt to lighten the mood that swirled around them.

His lips quirked in a half smile and he lifted his head. “No, only you.”

Three words. So simply spoken. The expression in his eyes so honest it went straight to her heart. She clamped down on the feeling, fighting it back so she wouldn’t succumb to the lure of the invitation in his gaze. Or to the physical plea that thrummed through every particle of her body.

Her mouth dried. She had no idea of how to respond to him without it sounding careless and glib.

“It’s okay, Anna,” he said, as if sensing her quandary. “It was only meant to be a simple good-night, nothing more. Unless you want it to be?”

“I … I can’t. I—”

“Don’t worry,” he interrupted. “I’m nothing if not a patient man. And you’re worth waiting for. But I promise you this—sooner or later we will make love, and when we do, it will be unforgettable.”

His words left her speechless. Unforgettable? Oh, she had no doubt that sex with him would be off the Richter scale. She’d never been into casual encounters, not that anything about Judd Wilson was casual. For him, though, she might have considered it if he hadn’t been Charles’s son.

Judd pressed his lips against her cheek, almost at the corner of her mouth. All she had to do was turn her head ever so slightly and she could let this lead to its natural and, no doubt, very satisfying conclusion. But she held firm and felt Judd’s unspoken acceptance of her refusal.

“I’ll pick you up in the morning about nine,” he said, letting her go and taking a step away. “Sleep well.”

She watched him leave, his long legs eating up the distance along the wide track that led back to the main house. When he was out of sight, she finally let her body sag against the door frame.

Just hours ago, she’d arrived in Australia with one goal in mind—to convince Judd to come with her to New Zealand and reunite with his father. She still wanted—needed—to achieve that goal, but another need was taking over. A need to make the most of her time with Judd, to follow through on the attraction between them and see where it led.

But she knew she couldn’t give in. So much rested on how Judd reacted when he learned why she’d come. If things between them got out of hand and he learned the truth too soon, she could inadvertently ruin all of Charles’s hopes for reconciliation. She couldn’t bear the thought of letting him down like that. Even if it meant closing the door on any chance to explore the sizzling attraction between her and Judd.

Her fingers fluttered to her lips. She could still feel him, still taste him. And God, she still wanted him. How on earth was she going to get through an entire day in his presence without giving in?




Three


The V8 engine of his Aston Martin Vantage roadster purred as Judd drove slowly along the private road that led toward Anna’s cottage. A quiet smile of satisfaction played across his face—a total contrast to the frustration that even now held his body deliciously taut with expectation.

He hadn’t felt this depth of attraction to a woman in a very long time. Actually, to be completely truthful, he’d never felt quite this level of need in relation to anyone else before.

Today was going to be interesting, very interesting indeed. And tonight? Well, that had the potential to be even better.

The faint burr of his cell phone distracted him. A quick look at the caller ID saw him ease his car to a halt and press a button on his hands-free kit to respond.

“Good morning, Mother. I didn’t expect to hear from you this early.”

Cynthia didn’t waste any time on pleasantries. “I know where she’s from.”

“Who? Anna?”

“Who else? I was certain she looked familiar, and now I know why. I knew her mother. She worked at Wilson Wines. She was just an office dolly back then—flirted outrageously with the traveling reps. She left when she married one of them, pregnant of course, but I always suspected your father had his eye on her. About three years after we got here I heard that when her husband died, Charles employed her as his housekeeper—like anyone expected that was the truth.”

Judd tensed. Every time Cynthia mentioned Charles Wilson there was a tone to her voice that set his teeth on edge.

“Did you hear me, Judd?”

“Yes, I heard you. What do you expect me to do about it?”

“Well, confront her, obviously. Her mother was living with Charles, ergo, so was Anna. Find out what she’s doing here, because I’d wager she isn’t here on holiday. It has to be something to do with your father.”

He hated to admit it, but his mother could be right. Ever since they’d met, he’d suspected that Anna was hiding something. And the way she’d looked at him right at their first meeting was as if she was searching his face for a resemblance to someone. Had she been comparing him to his father? He stilled the curl of anger at that thought and at the possibility that his family might be being used by Charles Wilson again. Instead, he channeled his heated emotions into a tool to hone his thinking.

“I’ll deal with it. Don’t worry.”

“I knew she was trouble the second I laid eyes on her,” his mother continued. “She’s probably working for him, you know. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised, if she’s anything like her mother, if she is warming his bed. He always did prefer younger women.”

His mother’s words were acid in his ears. Cynthia had never let go of the bitterness she felt toward the man she’d left behind in New Zealand. He could still remember the first day he and Cynthia had arrived at The Masters’ and she’d pointed to the shell of the mansion up on the hill.

Their house in New Zealand had been an identical replica of the original Masters home—a wedding present built under Charles’s orders for his beautiful bride. Seeing a wrecked, charred ruin of a house that looked so very much like the one he’d always known had been a deeply unsettling experience for Judd, especially when Cynthia told him that the ruin would be a constant reminder of what they’d all lost when his father had rejected them both and banished them back to Australia. And it was to be a constant target for all that he should strive to regain.

His six-year-old mind had been unable to fully understand what she was saying, hadn’t grasped the depth of her obsession with the home she’d lost not once, but twice, and every day at The Masters’ he’d learned what it meant to be rejected by the man who’d fathered him. Whether it was the pitying gaze of his uncles and their sometimes overzealous attempts to be a father figure in his life, or the overheard remarks made by the staff from time to time when they didn’t know he was listening, he knew exactly what it felt like to be a cast-off. He snapped his mind back to the present.

“I said I’ll deal with it, Mother. By the end of today we’ll know exactly what she’s up to.”

“Good. I know I can rely on you, Judd. Be careful, my darling.”

Careful? Oh, he’d be more than careful. He disconnected the call and guided his car once more toward Anna’s cottage. He’d be so careful that Anna Garrick would hardly know what had hit her.

Anna stood waiting for him on the patio of the cottage. She looked deceptively fresh and innocent, dressed in layers of light clothing. He knew she was anything but innocent, especially if her response to him last night had been anything to go by. He hoped she was up to a little heat, because today promised to be warm in more ways than one.

She walked toward his car as he got out and opened the passenger door for her.

“Nice wheels,” she commented.

“I was always a James Bond fanatic as a kid.” He smiled. “Some things never get old.”

She laughed and settled in the red leather bucket seat, its color a perfect foil for her chestnut-brown hair, he thought as he swung her door closed. As he got back behind the wheel she rummaged in her handbag, pulling out a long bamboo hairpin before twisting her long hair into a knot and securing it at the back of her head.

“I can put the top up if you’d rather,” he said, his eyes caught on the elegant line of her neck, the perfection of her jaw.

“No, it’s a beautiful day. Let’s make the most of it,” she answered with a smile that hit him fair and square in the gut and reminded him of just how uncomfortable it had been to walk back to the main house last night.

“Good idea,” he agreed and maneuvered the highperformance sports car onto the driveway that led off the property. “You mentioned yesterday that it’s your first time in Adelaide,” he probed. “What made you decide to come here for a break?”

She remained silent for a moment. From the corner of his eye he could see her press her lips together, as if she was holding back her instinctive answer and taking the time to formulate another.

“It was suggested to me,” she said, averting her gaze out the side window.

Oh, he’d put money on the fact it was suggested to her, and by whom. Even without the insight his mother had offered, it was Anna’s evasiveness that gave her away. He’d known that she had something to hide, and now that he suspected it involved his father, he was absolutely determined to find out what it was before the day was out. In the meantime, there was nothing, absolutely nothing, stopping him from having a good time along the way.

As they turned out the driveway that led from the vineyard and out onto the main road heading toward the hills, he saw her gaze pulled up onto the ridge and to the silhouette of the devastated building that stood there. He waited for her to say something, to ask about what had happened. Everyone did, eventually. But she remained silent. The expression on her face was pensive. Some devil of mischief prompted him to comment.

“It was magnificent in its day, you know.”

“I beg your pardon?” She turned to face him.

“Masters’ Rise, the house up there.” He let go of the steering wheel with one hand and gestured up toward the hills.

“It was your family home?”

Did she really not realize, or was she just bluffing? “Not that one, although I lived briefly in a replica of it back in New Zealand when I was young.” When she didn’t comment on that, he pointed back up the hill. “Masters’ Rise was destroyed before my time. My mother and uncles lived there as youngsters, though. I don’t think the family pride ever quite recovered from its loss. I know for a fact that my mother’s didn’t. And it wasn’t just losing the house—a good bit of the vineyard was destroyed, as well.”

“It wasn’t as if they could have done anything to stop it, though, was there?”

“Done anything?”

“Well, it was a bushfire, wasn’t it?”

He shot her a piercing glance.

“At least that’s what I think I read somewhere,” she added hastily.

Oh, good cover, he thought before slowly nodding.

“They were lucky to escape with their lives,” he said. “Unfortunately, they didn’t have much else—well, not much else but the Masters’ tenacity. Rebuilding the house wasn’t an option—not when they had to recreate their entire livelihood, as well. It would have taken everything they had left and they were forced to choose between rebuilding their home or reestablishing the vineyards and winery.”

“Tough choices. It’s a shame they couldn’t do both.”

“Yeah.”

Judd lapsed into silence. Wondering, not for the first time, how different life might have been if the Masters family hadn’t been forced into that decision. It couldn’t have been easy for his mother and her brothers, starting over from scratch, seeing the life of ease and plenty they’d enjoyed vanishing in a flash. Was that why it had been so easy for Charles Wilson to sweep Cynthia off her feet? Was the life of wealth and luxury he offered truly impossible for a girl, who’d spent so long struggling, to resist?

“So, what’s on the agenda for today?” Anna asked, her voice artificially bright. “Last night you mentioned Hahndorf, right? Where and what is it?”

Judd flashed her a smile before transferring his attention back to the road in front of them.

“It was originally a German settlement, established in the early eighteen hundreds. Much of the original architecture still survives and is used today. It’s not far from here, but I thought I’d take you a couple of other places first and then we’ll head back into Hahndorf for lunch.”

“Sounds lovely, thanks. Really, I appreciate you taking time out of your schedule for me.”

Judd reached out and caught her hand in his, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze.

“I want to get to know you better, Anna. Can’t do that stuck in my office, now, can I?”

To his surprise, a flush of color spread across her cheeks. She blushed? The ingenuousness of the act was totally at odds with the wanton he’d held in his arms last night. Yeah, there was no doubt about it. Anna Garrick intrigued him, and he liked being intrigued—even if it was by someone with a hidden agenda.

Her fingers tingled beneath his touch and Anna felt heat surge through her body, staining her cheeks. God, this effect he had on her would be her undoing. She gently withdrew her hand, distracting herself by poking about in her handbag for a tissue. Her fingertips brushed against the envelope holding the letter from Charles and she pulled her hand out of the bag so rapidly she elicited another one of those piercing looks from Judd.

“So,” she said, forcing her heartbeat to resume a more normal rate with a few calming breaths, “where are you taking me first?”

He gestured to the highest peak ahead of them.

“Mount Lofty. From there you’ll see the whole of Adelaide spread out before you.”

Judd proved himself to be a very efficient tour guide. That he knew the area like the back of his hand was obvious, as was his love and appreciation of his surroundings. By the time they’d taken in the panoramic views of the city and beyond from the peak of Mount Lofty and then strolled through the exquisitely beautiful botanic gardens below, Anna was having a hard time reminding herself that this was no pleasure jaunt.

Judd’s fingers were loosely linked in hers as they walked, and every nerve in her body went on high alert, focusing intently on the scant physical connection they shared. Wishing against everything that the connection could be deepened and intensified.

She fought to regain control of her senses. She’d be crazy to embark on anything physical with Judd Wilson. Totally and utterly crazy. But no matter what her head told her, her body demanded something else entirely.

In her bag, she felt her cell phone discreetly vibrate. The only person who would be calling her would be Charles. Her stomach lurched. Was he okay? He hadn’t looked well when she’d left Auckland yesterday. Extracting her fingers from Judd’s light clasp, she reached into her bag.

“Excuse me, I need to take this,” she said, putting the phone to her ear and turning to walk a few steps away from him.

“Have you met him yet?” Charles’s voice sounded strong and healthy.

“Yes, I have,” she said guardedly, wishing she’d let the call go to her message service and then phoned Charles back when she had a little more privacy.

“Well, what’s he like? Have you given him the letter yet? What did he say?”

Charles’s questions fired at her with the less-than-subtle force of a battering ram and she created a little more distance between herself and the subject of those questions.

“It’s hard to say at the moment. No, and nothing yet,” she answered each question in turn.

“You’re with him now, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” she replied. “Look, it’s really not a good time to talk. Can I get back to you later?”

Please say “yes,” she silently begged. In response, Charles’s hearty chuckle filled her ear.

“Not a good time, eh? Okay, then, I’ll leave you to it. But make sure you call me back later today.”

“Yes, certainly. I’ll do that. Goodbye.”

“Anna, don’t hang up!”

She sighed. “Yes?”

“I’m counting on you. I need my son with me.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Thank you, darling girl.”

He disconnected the call and Anna felt her shoulders sag with the reminder of what he expected of her.

“Bad news?” Judd asked.

“No, not really,” Anna hedged.

“Anything I can help with?”

She fought back the strangled laugh that rose in her throat. If only he knew. But no, the last thing she could do was divulge the details of that phone call. Not yet, anyway. She shook her head and pushed her phone back in her bag.

“It was just work, I can deal with it later. I’m starving,” she said, trying to shift the conversation onto safer ground. “How about that lunch you promised me?”

“Your wish is my command,” Judd said, taking her hand again and lifting it to his lips.

His blue eyes gleamed, letting Anna know in no uncertain terms that he was definitely open to more than just lunch. Again that surge of heat swirled deep inside her, making her body tighten in anticipation. She fought to paint a smile on her lips. This was all going to be so much harder than she had ever imagined.

On the short drive to Hahndorf, Charles’s words kept echoing around in her head, I need my son with me. An unexpected flash of anger rose within her. Charles was so bent on reuniting with his long-lost son that he’d completely forgotten he had a daughter right by his side. A daughter who understood his wine importation and distribution business better, almost, than her own father. A daughter who’d spent her whole life stepping up in an attempt to fill the near insurmountable gap left when Cynthia had taken Judd to Australia.

Anna wondered again about the contents of the letter that weighed so heavily in her handbag. She knew Charles was planning on offering Judd an incentive to return, but he hadn’t shared the details with her. Whatever carrot he’d chosen to dangle, what would it mean to the sister who didn’t even remember Judd? The one who worked so hard to please her father, for no reward other than his love and hard-won approval? Anna adored Charles with every breath in her body. He’d been the only father figure she’d ever known, but she worried that he’d overstepped the mark with this obsession with Judd and that he’d damage his relationship with Nicole irrevocably.

“What sort of work do you do that they need to call you when you’re on vacation?”

Judd’s voice interrupted her thoughts and made her start. She’d been dreading this question and had already decided that a vague response would be her best bet.

“Oh, I’m a P.A.”

“You must be pretty important to your boss if he can’t keep from calling you.”

Anna forced her features to relax into a smile. “I’ve worked for him since I left school. We’re probably closer than most boss/employee relationships.”

She caught Judd’s piercing look before his eyes resumed their surveillance of the road in front of them. He began to slow the car as they approached a township, and Anna let out an involuntary exclamation of delight as they entered the main road. Lined with massive trees and with quaint tin-roofed buildings, she’d have thought she’d stepped back in time if it hadn’t been for the bustle of people and modern vehicles that lined the street.

Judd expertly backed the Aston Martin into a car space and came around to open Anna’s door.

“I’m surprised he let you out of his sight, if you’re so close,” he said, his words weighted with something that Anna couldn’t quite put her finger on.

“I’m my own woman,” she answered.

“I’m pleased to hear it,” Judd said in return, taking her hand and tucking it firmly in the crook of his elbow. “Because I don’t like to share.”

“I’ve heard that trait was reserved for only children,” Anna said with a soft laugh, trying to defuse the heady rush of excitement his words stimulated inside her.

“What makes you think I’m not an only child?”

Oh, Lord, she’d nearly stepped right in it. She scoured her memory quickly, although deep down she knew that no one here in Adelaide had mentioned his estranged family to her.

“Oh, I don’t know. I just assumed, since you grew up here surrounded by your cousins, that sharing was a natural part of your life.”

She held her breath, hoping he’d be satisfied with her reply. To her surprise, he let out a short laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose that’d be a natural assumption.”

“So, are you?” she probed, wanting some insight into how he might feel about the sister he hadn’t seen in years.

“An only child?” He shrugged. “It’s complicated. My parents divorced when I was young, and they split my sister and me up at the same time. I was six, she was just one year old.”

“Isn’t that unusual? That your father kept your sister?”

“He didn’t want me—my mother did.”

Judd’s words, so simply spoken, hinted strongly at the hurt that had to lie behind them. Anna wanted to protest. To tell him that his father wanted him very much indeed, but they weren’t her words to say.

“Have you ever wanted to see your sister? Get to know her?” she pressed, taking a different tack.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Oh, nothing. It’s just that, as I told you last night, I am an only child and I always wanted siblings.”

“The human condition, huh? Always wanting what we can’t have.”

“I suppose so,” Anna admitted, sorry that he’d so deftly avoided answering her question.

They walked along the shady sidewalk, stopping every now and then to wander into one of the many galleries before they crossed the road to take an umbrella-covered table outside an obviously very popular inn. Anna pulled the pin from her hair and shook it loose from its temporary restraint. She didn’t miss the glow of pure male appreciation in Judd’s eyes as she did so and felt her body warm in response.

“Would you like a menu, or would you like me to choose for you?” Judd asked.

“Go ahead and order for me. I eat just about everything.”

“What would you like to drink? A glass of wine?”

Anna eyed a nearby patron swigging at a foam-topped beer. “One of those,” she said, pointing.

“Beer?”

“Sure. Don’t tell me you’re one of those people who don’t think women should drink beer.”

“Not at all.” He laughed. “In fact, I plan to join you.”

When the waitress came over he ordered their meals and two beers. They didn’t have to wait long before the food and drinks arrived. Anna gasped when she saw the size of the platter placed before them.

“It’s their Taste of Germany. You couldn’t come here without trying it,” Judd said.

“I’ll take your word for it. I sure hope you’re hungry, too,” Anna replied, taking a sip of her chilled beer. “Mmm, that’s good.”

She grew so engrossed in the meal and their surroundings that she didn’t notice when a family with several children raced by their table. One of the kids lost his balance when his foot hooked into the handle of her bag, which she’d placed on the ground by the table leg. Anna’s hands flew to stabilize the beer mugs on the table as it rocked under the impact of the youngster’s clumsiness.

“Oh, no! I’m so sorry,” his harried mother said, rushing to pick up the belongings that had scattered from Anna’s bag.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,” Anna assured her, reaching for the items the woman had so far gathered and shoving them back in her bag. “Really, it’s my fault. I shouldn’t have left the strap hanging out like that.”

Judd had risen from his chair and was helping to collect Anna’s things. Too late she saw the stark-white envelope that had been ejected from its hiding place. His long-fingered hand hovered over it and her heart sank to the soles of her feet as she registered the exact moment he identified the name on the front.

He settled back in his chair, handing most of her things back to her, but holding the envelope between his fingers as if it contained something dangerous inside. The mother and her son moved on, rejoining the rest of their family, but Anna didn’t even notice. All she could do was stare at Judd and the flat packet in his hands.

“Care to explain this?” he said, his voice suddenly devoid of the warmth it had contained only moments ago.

Anna took a deep breath. “It’s a letter.”

“I can see that. It looks like a letter to me.”

She couldn’t maintain eye contact and instead dropped her gaze to her lap, where her fingers knotted in anxiety. This was all wrong. She’d wanted to give him the letter when she was ready, when she was in control and when she could better gauge what his reaction would be. Not in a public place like this, with no warning and no chance to prepare him for the letter’s contents.

“It is,” she said softly.

She flinched as she heard the envelope tear open. Her stomach tied in a knot of unbelievable proportions as the sound of a single sheet of paper being unfolded overwhelmed the noise of the diners and sightseers around them.

Anna finally lifted her gaze and watched as Judd read the letter his father had written. The letter that had the capacity to change all their lives. When he’d finished, he neatly refolded the sheet and put it back in the envelope. Still he said nothing. A shiver of fear danced down her spine. He was calm, too calm. She’d seen Charles get like this and she knew that it was only the quiet before the storm. What was coming could only be cataclysmic.

She reached across the table, touching his forearm. He shook off her touch as if she were nothing more than an annoying insect.

“Judd—” she started, but whatever she’d been about to say died in her throat when he met her eyes and she felt the full fury of the glacial fire reflected there.

“Who the hell are you and why are you really here?”




Four


Across the table Anna stared at him in shock. She felt all color drain from her face and a numb coldness settle in the pit of her stomach. She’d done this all wrong. She should have just followed Charles’s orders right from the start to make an appointment to see Judd and tell him from the outset why she was there. She took a deep breath before speaking.

“I … I’ve told you who I am. I’m Anna Garrick. And …” Her mouth dried, forcing her to pause for a moment, and swallow, before continuing, “And I’m here because your father desperately wants to make amends for the past.”

“If he’s so keen to make amends, why isn’t he here himself?” Judd demanded.

His skin had gone taut across his features, lending an implacable hardness to his face, and his eyes burned with a hard blue intensity.

“He didn’t tell you in the letter?”

“I want to hear it from you. Why did he not come here himself? Was he too ashamed to face up to me, to face up to the truth that his own pride and his stupid accusations are responsible for having torn our family apart in the first place?”

Anna made a small noise of protest. It wasn’t like that. Sure, she’d heard that Charles hadn’t been an angel at the time his marriage to Cynthia had fallen irrevocably apart—who ever was when under extreme pressure?—but from what her mother had told her, she knew that Cynthia had done plenty of damage, as well. Charles definitely hadn’t been solely responsible for what had happened, no matter what Judd’s mother might have told him.

“Well?” Judd demanded.

“He’s unwell. His doctor wouldn’t clear him to travel.” The diabetes that had plagued Charles for so many years had worsened, in part due to his late diagnosis and subsequent reluctance to follow medical recommendations to prevent further damage to his body. His kidneys were showing signs that renal failure could be just around the corner.

“How convenient.”

Judd lifted his stein and took a healthy swig of its contents, and Anna felt the initial stirrings of her own anger rise in response to his derision.

“It isn’t convenient at all, actually. Look, I’m not privy to exactly what he said in his letter to you, but I have a pretty good idea of what he’s asking. He wants to see you again. To get to know you before he—” Suddenly overwhelmed with emotion, her voice broke.

“Before he what?”

“Before he dies,” she said shakily.

“You care about him?” Judd’s voice was devoid of emotion.

“More than you could ever understand,” she said, forcing herself to pull it together. “He is not a well man, Judd. Please, this could be your last chance to get to know him. He’s your father, surely you owe him that.”

“Owe him?” He snorted a laugh. “That’s rich. I don’t owe him anything and I haven’t exactly missed out on having him in my life. I don’t see why that should change, although he has certainly attempted to sweeten the pot to entice me back to New Zealand.”

“Sweeten the pot?” She felt a building sense of dread. Just what kind of incentive had Charles offered?

“You really don’t know?”

“If I knew, would I be asking?” she snapped.

“Strange, given that you’re his valued employee, and given—by your own admission—how close you are and how much you care about him, that he didn’t see the need to apprise you of his intentions.”

She didn’t like his unspoken insinuation that there was something unsavory between her and Charles. Sure, she loved him—like a father. But how could she explain that to Judd now? He’d never believe her.

Judd leaned back in his chair and fixed her with his intense gaze. “It seems that your esteemed employer wishes to offer me a controlling interest in the family business.”

“He what?”

A controlling interest? Just like that? Black spots swam before Anna’s eyes and she gulped at the air. How could Charles do that to Nicole? How could she have done that to Nicole? Anna knew her best friend had standards just as high as Charles’s when it came to loyalty and honesty. When she found out that Anna had been the messenger who had gone behind Nicole’s back to practically hand deliver Charles’s company to Judd, would Nicole ever forgive her?

“And that’s not all. Apparently, he wants to assign the family home to me, as well.” He casually waved the letter in the air. “All to do with whatever I please.”

Anna couldn’t believe her ears. “He wouldn’t do something like that. You have no loyalty to Charles, no loyalty to Wilson Wines. For all we know, you’d just sell off your share to someone who didn’t give a damn. Charles would never do something so rash.”

Would he? Had he become so desperate to mend the vast chasm between father and son that he was prepared to offer the world on a platter? This would destroy Nicole. She’d grown up in the New Zealand house—it was still her home. And she’d poured her heart and soul into the business—surely not to simply see half of it handed over to her brother? Charles couldn’t be so cruel.

But Anna knew full well that Charles was capable of doing such a thing. Single-minded to a fault, his aim was to return his son to his side before he died. When his doctors had confirmed that time might be running out, he’d gone after his goal to bring Judd back into his life with every weapon at his disposal. He’d do whatever it took, even if it meant hurting the daughter who loved him so very much.

Ever since the posthumous delivery of a letter from his former partner and biggest business rival, Thomas Jackson, he’d become obsessed with Judd, with somehow rebuilding a bond between them. Anna hadn’t been privy to the contents of the letter but she’d wager her very generous salary that it had to do with the rift between the business partners and Cynthia and Judd leaving New Zealand very shortly after. She’d often wondered if Thomas Jackson and Cynthia had been lovers.

Which begged the question—had Charles believed Judd was not his son?

Judd passed the letter across to her.

“Read it for yourself.”

The words blurred before her eyes and she blinked to clear them. It was true. There, in Charles’s scrawling black handwriting, was his desperate appeal to the son he’d turned his back on twenty-five years ago. She knew what it must have cost the older man to put his emotions in words like this. Never a demonstrative man, it shocked her to see him pour his heart out onto the page. Ever hedging his bets, though, he’d insisted on Judd undergoing DNA testing to prove he was, without a shadow of a doubt, Charles’s child. Ah, so there had been some doubt. Now everything began to make sense.

She finished scanning the letter and neatly folded it before handing it back to Judd.

“I had no idea he had planned this. Will you accept his offer?” she asked.

“He insults my mother, even after all this time, and you think I’m going to leap at his offer?”

“Insults Cynthia?” She didn’t follow his reasoning.

“The DNA test. He wants proof she didn’t cheat on him when I was conceived. It’s obvious, no matter what he says in that letter, he hasn’t changed a bit. He still expects to call all the shots. And then there’s you.”

“Me?”

“What’s your role in all this? Did he expect you to also sweeten the deal?”

Anna felt a flush rise in her cheeks. “I don’t think I like what you’re suggesting.”

“Well, you can’t blame me. You come to my family’s home, you fail to identify yourself or your reasons for being here and you show yourself to be very receptive to attention from me. You certainly didn’t object last night when I kissed you.”

“That was …”

Words failed her.

“It was what, Anna? Going over and above the call of duty?”

Anna bit back the retort that sprang so readily to her lips and forced herself to calm down.

“I did what I came to do, you have the letter, you’ve read it. Now the ball is in your court.”

And she’d failed Charles, she admitted to herself. The knowledge lodged like a heavy ball of painful regret knotted tight within her chest. The most important thing he’d ever asked of her and she’d screwed it up.

“Please, I beg of you, don’t let what I’ve done influence your decision in any way. Charles wanted me to be upfront with you. It was my choice to hold back my real reasons for being here.”

“Why?”

“I knew he wanted to extend an olive branch, but I was concerned about how you might feel about him and whether you would take advantage of him. He’s an old man, old before his time because of his illness. He doesn’t deserve any more misery in his life.”

“And that’s your considered opinion?”

“Of course it is. Look, you don’t know him. You probably barely remember him. Whatever happened in the past is past. It can’t be undone. Can’t you put it aside and consider what it would mean to him to make amends with you now?”

Judd stared at her for a moment, his expression not giving any sign of what he might be thinking. The knot of dread tightened even further.

Put the past behind him? Did she have even the faintest idea what she was asking? Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t been torn from the father who had adored him one minute and then refused to look at him the next. She hadn’t been transplanted into another family, another world, and been told to “man up” because his mother expected him to be strong. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d watched cars arrive at The Masters’ and hoped against hope that his father would alight from one of them. That he’d come to say it had all been a mistake.




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The Wayward Son Yvonne Lindsay

Yvonne Lindsay

Тип: электронная книга

Жанр: Современные любовные романы

Язык: на английском языке

Издательство: HarperCollins

Дата публикации: 16.04.2024

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О книге: The Wayward Son, электронная книга автора Yvonne Lindsay на английском языке, в жанре современные любовные романы

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