Shooting Dixon the practiced fake smile she’d used at all of Gitta’s publicity appearances before The Incident, Jules handed him the participant folder. “Your schedule is in here. Including the appointments with Dr. Thorpe that AGI requested. Please let me know if you need anything. I hope you enjoy your stay.”
Alex studied her through narrowed eyes. “You know, you look so familiar. Should I know you? Have we met before?”
Dizziness hit as her breath shortened. Okay, she didn’t really look like her eighteen-year-old self anymore. Short, wispy blond-only hair, and contacts all but eliminated traces of the awkward Julia Grimes he might have recalled. “No, I think I’d remember if I’d ever met you before. I guess I just have one of those faces.”
“I’d swear . . . I’ll figure it out eventually. I never forget a face.”
~ ~ ~
Alex followed Marcus’ burly form up the sweeping staircase toward the guest rooms. The dude was built like a bouncer, or a bodyguard. Alex pegged him as a former resident of Compton. His Oakley sunglasses were reversed around his head, hanging upside down behind the man’s thick neck. A look Alex thought only cocky, confident Hollywood types affected. As they turned on the landing, the office came into view. He paused when he caught sight of Jules Capelli, standing motionless behind her desk, staring at him like he had two heads.
What the fuck?
Earlier, she had looked like she’d seen a ghost. Her pretty blue eyes wide, her lush lips opened in a perfect circle, her eyebrows raised toward her hairline. Now she twirled strands of her honey blond hair around her finger. Something bothered her, and he’d kill for a chance to help her solve whatever problem she grappled with.
She possessed the type of beauty most men overlooked. It wasn’t so much her physical features as the whole package. Stunning, tall, willowy. Strong. Everything about her appealed to his senses. And seemed familiar. But damn, he couldn’t place her. And it was going to drive him insane.
Marcus had continued up the steps and turned when he reached the top. “You coming?”
Alex shook off the sense of déjà vu that had claimed him. “Yeah. Hey, is she all right?” He gestured toward Jules.
“She’s fine.” Marcus’ tone held a terse bite. “She just has . . . some family stuff on her mind. Come on, let’s get you to your room.”
His tone implied he’d like Alex to stay there. Marcus waited until Alex started up the remaining stairs, then hustled down the hall. He paused in front of a door midway down on the right and slipped the key into the old-fashioned lock. When he pushed open the door marked twenty-two, he stepped aside and motioned Alex into the room.
Once he entered, Marcus followed and deposited the suitcase on a stand at the end of the four-poster bed dominating the room. The decor was a little, no . . . strike that, a lot fussy for Alex’s taste. Yellow wallpaper dotted with pink flowers covered all four walls. The dainty antique chair in one corner had a pale rose decorative ruffle barely hiding the Queen Anne-style wooden legs. Alex was pretty sure it was called a flounce, but for the life of him, couldn’t think of why he knew that. Must be his reporter’s mind-like-a-steel-trap brain. The dark blue curtains at the windows were the only manly things in the room.
Alex couldn’t imagine being able to sleep with all the gewgaws and flowers decorating the old-lady space. “Dude, do you have a room that isn’t so . . . flowery?”
Marcus flipped the mirrored sunglasses up over his head, dropping them onto his nose before he shrugged. “Sorry, they’re all like this. Previous owners went a little overboard when they decorated. Jules hasn’t had time to change it up.”
Made sense. Although their meeting had been brief, Jules didn’t really seem the floral type. Definitely more earthy. He had her pegged as a natural fiber, spa-feel kind of chick. He’d be willing to bet there was a nice, soft cotton duvet in shades of oatmeal on her bed. Alex rubbed the back of his neck. Best if he didn’t think about Jules Capelli’s bed at all. That kind of thinking would only get him in trouble.
He hoped to survive the team building exercises, and forced interaction with his jackass co-worker, with the least amount of repercussions.
Besides, Jules probably had a strict, non-fraternization policy. She wasn’t likely to welcome any advances he’d make. Especially since he had the distinct feeling he frightened her.
“Okay, if you don’t need anything else, I’m going to help Jules.” Marcus lumbered toward the door.
“Nah, man. I’m good.”
Dammit, now he imagined he recognized Marcus, too. Something about the way the man moved and held himself reminded Alex of . . . someone. If these odd flashes of the future past continued, they’d drive him bat-shit crazy.
With a nod, Marcus closed the door behind him, rapid footsteps muted as they stomped down the hall.
Alex pulled out his phone to check email before he unpacked. No bars. No service. He hustled across the room and opened the door. “Hey, what do I need to do to get cell and Internet service?” he asked. The hall was empty. Marcus moved fast for a big man.
Closing the door, Alex tossed the phone on the bedside table and stalked over to the casement windows. Giving the smooth antique handle a quick twist and shove, he pushed out the glass. A fresh, warm breeze stirred the curtains.
Rows and rows of grapevines stretched out from the fence separating the manicured lawn from the vineyard. The summer wind rattled through the leaves on the vines and in the trees in the yard. Peaceful.
He hadn’t realized how much he’d missed nature sounds while he’d been living in Los Angeles. There, the most common sounds by his house were blaring horns and yelling pedestrians. Here, the gentle rustle soothed. Alex pulled in a deep breath. The sweet clover scent from bed after bed of vibrant yellow mustard flowers filled his senses. Closing his eyes, he let the sounds and smells of the vineyard calm him.
He released one final breath then pushed away from the window. Stepping over to the bed, he jerked the flowery duvet back, revealing plain white sheets. Thank God. He was certain they’d be pink and girly. He chuckled his relief as he kicked off his shoes and flopped down. Yep, he’d be able to sleep here.
Shoving one hand behind his head, he grabbed his phone. Still no damn signal. It reminded him that Jules had asked Marcus to help her with the Wi-Fi. He hoped this wouldn’t be an issue for the duration of his time here. Unplugging wasn’t easy for him.
Didn’t really matter, since his ass was suspended until he completed the team building exercise. Unless he managed to avoid additional confrontations with Rawlings, he’d be suspended permanently.
Alex grunted in disgust. At least Toad wouldn’t arrive until later. And until dinner, he was free of any responsibility. Closing his eyes, he absorbed the noise of the vineyard, the gentle flap of the curtains against the window frame, the muted ticking of the old-school analog clock on the stand next to his head.
Gripping the phone in his fist, he let his thoughts wander back to Jules. The woman was unique, striking. In the dim recesses of his mind, a vague, fuzzy picture formed. His job was to know people and he remembered her. But he knew better than to try to force the image to the forefront. It would never solidify if he pushed too hard.
Despite the peace in the quiet room, lying there for ten minutes was more tedium than Alex could tolerate. He’d seen a great set of Adirondack chairs on a small bluff overlooking the vines as he drove up the lane. He’d go sit there, turn on his mobile hotspot and enjoy the view while he checked his mail.
Jumping off the bed, he slipped his feet into the tennis shoes he’d discarded earlier, shoved the phone into the back pocket of his jeans, and grabbed the key Marcus had left on the desk. Retracing his steps, he went back to the first floor.
When he reached the bottom, he heard angry voices. Alex paused, not really meaning to eavesdrop, but reluctan
t to interrupt.
“Marcus, I’m telling you . . . asking you, please. Just go warn them. She has to know.” Jules’ tone had gentled to cajoling.
“Please don’t ask me to deal with P-Chan. Bitch scares me, and you know that’s huge.”
Something scared the big man? Alex stifled a chuckle and continued to listen.
“I can’t go. The rest of them are due any minute. Plus, I’m better suited to distract Dixon if necessary.”
Wait. What? Why the hell would she need to distract him?
He couldn’t make out Marcus’ reply. The sound of something heavy smacking on the desk echoed out into the hall. Alex took two quiet steps forward and cocked his ear toward the door. Their conversation continued, but he only caught every other word Jules said.
His reporter’s instincts kicked in. There was a story here. Maybe this little company-ordered vacation wouldn’t be a complete waste of time. He’d just have to be sure Rawlings didn’t try to scoop him again. Time to play nice with his confidential informant. Despite the fact Jules didn’t have a clue he considered her that.
Backing up on silent feet, Alex climbed four steps then made as much noise as he could, whistling, squeaking his shoes against the hard wood floor of the foyer. The voices in the other room fell silent as he approached the office door.
He announced his presence from the door. “Hey.”
Jules spun around, a chunk of black plastic clutched in her hands, bright red flaring in her cheeks. “You startled me.”
The computer modem in her hands was probably the reason he couldn’t get service. No need to let her know he could still connect through his phone. Not yet, anyway. “Sorry. I wondered if there was a high spot on the property where I might get a signal. I need to check my email.”
Unmistakable terror filled the fast glance she tossed at Marcus. Hiking her shoulders nearer her ears, her eyes darted from side to side. “There’s um . . . The best place to get service is in the picnic area by the creek. Just follow the road down. I’m sure you saw it on your way in.”
Yeah, he’d passed the low-lying spot in the road on his way in. No way in hell would he get a signal there.
“Great, I’ll just walk down there. It’s a perfect afternoon for a stroll, right?” Alex gave a jaunty wave and left the office.
He wasn’t sure why she’d misdirected him. But he’d find out. Just like he’d find out why Jules looked so familiar to him.
He had a nose for news, and her behavior had it twitching.
Chapter 3
Panic rose like a grapevine shooting toward the sun when Jules drove up to the picnic area where she’d directed Alex Dixon earlier. The man had left the main house over an hour ago and hadn’t returned. While she’d checked in the other guests, Marcus had taken the golf cart to the cabin to warn Gitta and Peyton to stay inside.
Now that her responsibilities to the program participants had ended until dinner, she’d set off in search of the reporter. She should be able to distract him until it was time to meet the other guests. Beginning tomorrow, the schedule for the exercises, appointments, and seminars was full and tight. Plus she’d made a last minute decision to shift the program activities to another area of the vineyard, hopefully making a chance encounter less likely.
Alex’s co-worker, Todd Rawlings hadn’t arrived yet. Marcus was hanging out in the office until the other reporter showed up. The plan was to take his bags to his room while the guy went to dinner. The meal presented an opportunity for the teams to get acquainted before having to work together. The curriculum centered on activities requiring people to pair off to complete tasks necessary to running a vineyard. Additionally, there were several stress-relieving, problem-solving assignments. Jules typically led those sessions and really enjoyed interacting with the participants. In order to keep a watchful eye on the reporters, she’d worked it out with Marcus to lead all the sessions this week.
A gentle summer breeze blew through the open sided vehicle, lifting the fringe of hair around her face. She loved this particular spot on her property. Shaded by tall trees, edged on one side by a rippling creek, it was peaceful and quiet. They’d have lunch here tomorrow, but at the moment it was deserted. She applied the brakes on the golf cart, slowing to a stop near the picnic area.
She’d sent Alex here so he could check his email, but he wasn’t anywhere in the vicinity. Twisting around in her seat, she scanned the creek bank and the surrounding area. Where had he gone?
Slumping against the seat, she massaged the ache forming over her eyes. Shifting her gaze to the ridgeline on her left, she spied a splash of red. Alex had found her spot on the bluff overlooking the back of the vineyard. The one place she’d prayed he wouldn’t go. The view of the vines was spectacular from there. But it also offered a clear view of the cabin.
Shit!
The cart beeped as she reversed fast, then jerked to a stop when she flipped the shifter to accelerate. Her head snapped back as she gripped the steering wheel and sped through the rough terrain toward the bluff. The pain in her jaw was either a result of each teeth-jarring bump she took at high speed, or from grinding her molars together in anger.
Anger at Gitta and Peyton. Anger at Alex. And worse . . . anger at herself for accepting the last-minute add-ons and capitulating to Gitta recuperating here.
Taking one bump too fast, the cart went airborne, sending her stomach into a sickening roll. The tires slipped as they crashed back to the grass. But she’d made it to the top of the ridge in record time. Her head and shoulders jolted forward as she braked hard to a stop right behind the comfortable chair where Alex sat. She used the momentum to propel her body from the cart.
As she sidled in front of him, hoping to block his view of her cabin, he laid his phone face down on the wide wooden arm.
Double shit!
Her gaze collided with his baby blues. Was that . . . Damn, she didn’t know him enough to be certain if speculation, not knowledge, lurked in his eyes. She caught her lower lip between her teeth. His gaze tracked the action before lazily returning to focus on her eyes.
“Hey!” She cleared her throat to rid her voice of the breathless quality. “You found my spot.”
His glance took in the surrounding area, the rolling hills of vines, the tiny creek meandering through a stand of olive trees, the small cabin nestled alongside said trees. “Hope you don’t mind sharing. It’s a great location. I can’t get over how peaceful this place is. How isolated.”
He’d sprawled back in the chair, his legs spread wide, almost as if inviting her to take a seat. But something in his expression sharpened.
“I come here some afternoons to escape the ringing phones and constant emails,” Jules offered. She sidestepped to the left, attempting to manipulate him into turning around. “No one can reach me here, which is fine by me.”
He flicked his eyes to the phone, so fast that if she’d blinked, she’d have missed it. Dull red colored his cheeks when he met her gaze again. Suspicion confirmed. He’d found a way to get connected up here. He palmed the phone and pushed to his feet as he shoved the device into his back pocket.
Jules found herself staring at his butt for longer than she should have.
“Really?” Alex asked as he faced her. “To be honest, my ties to my email and Google border on addiction. I can’t seem to unplug.”
Success! She’d managed to turn him so his back was to the cabin. Now, she just had to keep it there.
“This place is great in the summer, but you should see it in the fall.” Good one, Jules. Way to make small talk about the weather. Like the most awkward date ever.
Except this wasn’t a date. Not even close. Alex tipped his head to the side and stared at her. As if he knew her. Shit, shit, shit! He took a step toward her, still assessing her face. Her heart hammered against her ribcag
e. Whether in fear that he knew her secret now, or from the insane attraction she felt toward the man. Didn’t matter. The rapid tattoo against her breastbone, for whatever reason, made it hard to catch her breath.
“Maybe I’ll come back for a weekend in October. I mean, if I’m invited, of course.”
Something moved in the corner of her vision, drawing her eye and distracting her from the view of his handsome face and broad shoulders.
Oh, Lord! Peyton, wearing a hot pink tank top, climbed down the front steps and moved into the sunlight. She laid a blanket over the lounge chair situated next to the creek, then turned to say something to Gitta, who’d remained on the porch. What part of Jules’ order didn’t they understand? She’d had Marcus deliver a stern command for them to stay in the cabin until she figured out what to do about the reporters. What a cluster this day had turned into.
Alex turned his head, as if to see what distracted her. Gitta had moseyed into the clearing. The white of the bandages swathing her head was blinding in the sunlight.
Jules didn’t stop to think. She leapt forward and grabbed Alex’s shoulders, drawing his attention back to her. “Consider this your invitation.”
Stretching up on her toes, she pressed her mouth to his. She hadn’t expected the blooming thrill at the touch of his lips, nor the sharp inhalation of surprise. Hers, not his. Nor had she considered for a second he’d return the kiss. Or deepen it.
Alex opened his mouth on hers, changed the angle of his head and wrapped his arms around her waist, closing the distance between their bodies. Shivers coursed down her spine when his tongue slipped past her lips. Sliding her hands up his neck, Jules combed her fingers through his curly hair and strained to get closer. Desire flashed through her like heat lightning on a summer night, hot and electric.
Hidden in the Vines (Romancing the Vine) Page 3