She couldn’t restrain the moan sifting up her throat.
Without releasing her mouth, Alex dipped his knees and shifted his arms around the back of her thighs, pulling her close before he straightened. Her toes left the ground and reason spun away. He felt too amazing. She wove one leg around his hips, accepting that spontaneous combustion was a distinct possibility. Heat flooded her body, pooling in her center, urged on by the hard ridge pressed against her abdomen.
Their tongues collided . . . stroking, rubbing, tasting. Jules chased Alex’s back to his mouth, then retreated. He traced the tip of his around the edge of her lips. Gentling his approach, he eased the grip he had around her thighs and let her slide back to the ground, nipping at her lips. The firm pressure of his arousal belied his tender caress. He rested his hands on her hips, fingers flexing, kneading, as he released her mouth.
With her heart galloping in her chest, Jules struggled to catch her breath, to form words or remember why she was even here on the hill with him. She leaned against his chest while he laid his chin on her hair. Keeping his arms around her body, a chuckle rumbled up from his belly, tickling her brow where it rested.
“That was an invitation I can’t turn down.” His voice was husky, raspy; like walking, talking sex on a stick.
Lifting her head from his chest, she gazed up at him. His eyes had deepened to that rich shade of blue found at the edge of the atmosphere. His lips quirked up at the corners. She lost herself in the perfection of his face.
Until embarrassment crashed around her head. “Oh, crap! That was a little forward of me. I’m so sorry.”
“And yet, you’re still pressed against me, as if you’d like to be a little more forward,” he noted.
His hands wandered along the column of her spine. When he reached her nape, he curled his fingers around her neck and stroked his thumb into the hollow of her throat.
“Well, you make it easy to be aggressive.” Stretching up, she pressed her lips against his cheek and snuck a fast peek over his shoulder at the clearing in front of the cabin. Relief flooded through her as she discovered Peyton and Gitta had gone back inside.
Alex lowered his arms and took a step back. His gaze tracked hers, a questioning look on his face. “Were you aggressive because you wanted to kiss me, or distract me, Julia?”
Forcing a laugh and a grin, she responded brightly. “Why on earth would I want to distract you?” Then cold reason splashed over her like a tidal wave. “Wait, did you just call me Julia? You did. Oh, damn.”
Taking another step away from her, he crossed his arms over his chest. “‘Oh, damn’ is all you can say?”
“What the hell do you want me to say?” Dread, colder than a bucket of ice, replaced shock. And drowned the last of her lingering passion. There was no other way. She’d have to confront the situation and see what she could do in the way of damage control. “You’ve discovered my secret.”
Throwing his head back, he laughed. Her mouth went dry. All she wanted to do was trail her tongue up the sexy length of his neck.
Alex shifted his weight to one leg. With a hip jutted out, he looked as casual as could be as he prepared to destroy her world. “Oh, is it a secret that you’re Julia Grimes? Daughter of the fabulous Gitta Grimes. Must have sucked for you to be tagged the Ugly Duckling almost a decade ago by paparazzi.”
God, she hated that nickname. “How did you find out? The Internet is down. There isn’t any Wi-Fi signal.” She knew, because she’d disabled it herself.
Pulling his cell phone from his back pocket, he waggled it in front of him. “Mobile hotspot.”
She reached for the phone, but he jerked back at the last second. He grabbed her wrist with his free hand and pulled her off balance, tumbling her against his chest. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he snugged her close. Judging by the feel of his body, he was still turned on by the kiss.
“For what it’s worth, Jules, you’ve lived up to your reputation.”
Outrage flared. She shoved ineffectively against his chest. “What? Did you just call me ugly?” she demanded.
“Not at all. What I’m saying is, just as in the story, you’ve grown into a beautiful swan.” He traced her cheek with the pad of his thumb.
Jules stilled in his arms. Alex thought she was beautiful? She tamped down the emotions swirling through her. He was a damned entertainment reporter in a unique position to expose her mother’s secret. She’d have to tread carefully.
“What do you want?” she asked. “What are you going to do with the information?”
“I have no plans to do anything with the information. You were treated badly by the press when you were young and vulnerable.” He sighed. “I read some of the archived magazine articles about you. The way they tore you apart was reprehensible. It should never have happened. On behalf of all the pricks of the entertainment press, I apologize.”
A smidgeon of tension melted with his words. The only secret he alluded to was hers. Not a word so far about Gitta’s ‘in plain sight’ hiding. “So, my identity is safe with you?”
“Absolutely.”
She leaned back to look him in the eyes. “What’s that going to cost me?”
“I wouldn’t mind another kiss.”
Alex lowered his head and took possession of her lips again, leisurely exploring the confines of her mouth with his tongue. Heat gushed between her legs and her breasts tingled as her nipples tightened. When he trailed his fingertips along the sensitive side of her breast, her muscles clenched in response. If it felt like this when he touched her through her clothes, she couldn’t begin to imagine what it would feel like if they were both naked.
The growl of a powerful engine rose in the peaceful quiet surrounding them as they melted together on the bluff. A car climbed the hilly drive toward the main house.
He groaned then broke the kiss. “I could very happily continue this, right here, right now. But I doubt you’re the exhibitionist type. There’s a story we wouldn’t want any reporters getting a scoop on.”
Ice flowed through her at his words. “Alex, you aren’t the only reporter coming here this week. What about Todd Rawlings? What if he figures it out?”
Alex paused, and pressed his full lips together. Tilting his head, he reasoned, “It’s a ten-year-old story that happened in Los Angeles. Rawlings will probably never figure out Julia Grimes and Jules Capelli are the same person. But if he does, I’ll make sure he doesn’t do anything with the information.”
Skepticism filled her, quickly followed by trepidation. She’d have to be careful and not give away anything. And make sure neither Rawlings or Alex found out Gitta was in residence. That would spell certain disaster. Even if they did find out, with Alex on her side maybe such a tip for the gossip rags would never see the light of day.
She glanced at the taillights of the fire-engine-red sports car climbing the hill. “I’d better get back. Dinner will be in an hour and I’m sure Mr. Rawlings is arriving.”
“Can you give me a lift back to the house?”
“On one condition.” His look was expectant as he waited for her to continue. “You turn your mobile hotspot off and promise you won’t mention you’ve got the means to connect to the outside world. And persuade Mr. Rawlings to avoid trying it.”
“That’s two conditions, but I agree to both of them.”
She nodded and gestured toward the golf cart. “Okay. Hop in.”
Sparing one final peek at the cabin, she was satisfied he couldn’t have seen Peyton and Gitta. The only clue someone might be in the small dwelling was the colorful blanket draped over the lounge chair.
She hoped neither Alex nor his coworker ever discovered Gitta was so close, and with such a huge story to tell. Because even if Gitta wasn’t the best parent in the world, if either of these reporters squawked this stor
y, they’d discover just how quickly the Ugly Duckling could turn into a protective mother hen.
Chapter 4
Jules’ beautiful face had nagged Alex with its familiarity as he’d walked to the top of the ridge. The area overlooked the vineyard and a charming little cottage in the glen below. It had been an entrancing view he’d enjoyed while he waited on his mobile connection. Once back in touch with the outside world, he’d gone to work trying to solve the mystery that was his hostess.
It had been stupid-easy to find information about Jules Capelli and put the pieces together. Alex was a master researcher, so following the trail hadn’t proved difficult. He’d only been sitting on the bluff a few minutes when he dug the name Julia Grimes from the Access Entertainment’s archives, what she’d been known as a decade ago.
He’d read through AE’s stories, then flipped over to another gossip rag’s records. The press had been hateful, thorough, and highly unfair in their treatment of the teenager. And it looked as if Jules’ famous mother hadn’t bothered to come to her rescue.
He couldn’t find one report where Gitta had defended her only child, or told the press to leave the kid the fuck alone. Mystified, he tried to reason out why Jules would agree to hide her mom from the prying eyes of the press, in light of what Alex perceived as the ultimate betrayal of a child by a parent.
And Jules was definitely hiding Gitta Grimes from the world this week. While he’d been scrolling through the documents on his phone, the woman herself had wandered out of the cabin below his spot on the bluff. Obscured by bandages, he couldn’t see her face, but her unmistakable bright red hair had flowed free.
It appeared Gitta Grimes, spokesperson for Beauty by Nature, the preeminent organic skin care product company, had undergone some pretty unnatural enhancements in the last few days.
His instinct for a juicy story raced in his mind like an Indy car. Here was a great scoop. He’d dashed down the hill and talked to Gitta for at least ten minutes. She’d pleaded with Alex to keep her secret. Once she retreated inside, he’d headed back to the Adirondack chair on the bluff. Within a few minutes, Jules had pulled up behind him. And kissed him.
Now, an hour later, his lips still tingled with the memory as he joined the other guests in the dining room. Seated at the long wooden Mission-style table, surrounded by other team builders, Alex relaxed against the back of his chair and studied Jules.
Everything about her was fascinating. The animated nature of her hands as she spoke, emphasizing points with elegant flutters of her fingers. The way her quick smile was typically followed by charming laughter. Finding he obsessed about her lips, he switched his gaze higher, to her liquid, expressive blue eyes. They flashed with laughter at a participant’s jokes. And glittered with intelligence as she talked about what they could expect over the next few days.
He’d tried to catch her eye for the past ten minutes, a little miffed as she studiously avoided his gaze. Instead, she trained her attention on his fellow diners and explained the schedule, crowded with activities and appointments. The program intrigued him, despite the fact he’d be chained at the hip to Rawlings.
Across the table from him, Rawlings brayed like the jackass he was when the woman seated to his left at the dinner table whispered into his ear.
“I’m addicted to gossip magazines,” the woman announced.
Jesus, that’s all Rawlings needed—a damn groupie.
Dinner became an exercise in avoidance. Alex said nothing to his co-worker other than to grunt hello as Toad joined the rest of the crew for their first meal together.
Disgust spread through him when he glanced at the dickhead in time to see him tongue his dinner companion’s ear. An idea glimmered in Alex’s brain. Keeping Jules’ secret safe was a damned sight more likely if this chick was the jerk’s constant companion.
Jules had no idea he knew a larger secret than the identity she’d shed ten years ago. Best to let her think it remained buried. Oddly, he’d be damned if he could figure out his own intentions in squashing the story.
Alex tuned back in to what Jules was saying about the agenda for the team building exercises.
“In addition to a couple of lighter activities, such as our tasting room memory game, cork house building, and of course, our Sauvignon Stomp, we’ll split into teams to do some of the actual chores that are required this time of year in a vineyard,” she explained.
“Are we going to harvest grapes?” the woman seated next to Rawlings asked. Alex recalled her name as Andromeda. Seemed like a great name for a spacy chick.
With the patience of a saint, Jules replied, “Harvest doesn’t happen until fall in the Northern Hemisphere. Summer month activities revolve around protecting the vines and managing the canopy.”
Andromeda tipped her head to the side. “Canopy? Like an awning or tent? Are you talking about the covering over the entry to the tasting room?”
Jules kept the expression on her face bland, as if dealing with someone who had no idea of what happened in a vineyard. Which probably applied to most of the people in the room, Alex included. “Well, the awning could use a little sprucing up, but in this instance, canopy refers to the covering of leaves over the grapes. Think of a canopy in a rain forest.”
At Andromeda’s blank, glazed look, Jules shrugged, lips pursed as if to hold back a duh! Alex could hear her breath sigh out from where he sat. “In order to encourage photosynthesis, the canopy, or awning, must be managed to maintain the optimal fruit-to-leaf ratio,” she pointed out. “We want to exploit the effects of the sun, while minimizing the damage seasonal winds might cause.”
“Oh, good. I didn’t come prepared for manual labor.”
Rawlings, being the consummate gentleman, snorted. “We’re team building in a vineyard, sweetheart. I’m pretty sure there’s going to be physical work.” He patted the woman’s hand in a patronizing way.
Andromeda gazed into the douchebag’s eyes, adoration shining on her face. Alex curled his fingers into a fist against his thigh, fighting the urge to leap across the table and punch the smug look from Toad’s face.
His team partner was apt to get lucky sometime in the next few days. How can I use that to my advantage? Although, a better strategy might be to exploit the obvious displeasure Andromeda’s teammate revealed over Todd’s interest. Maybe Gemini—and who the hell came up with these names?—would manage to annihilate Rawlings in the grape stomping exercise.
Jules addressed the table at large. “There is physical labor, but trust me, it’s easy. You’ll be assembling a trellis system from scratch. The structure prevents frost damage and enhances the effects of the irrigation system. Working as a team, you’ll figure out which of the supplied parts to use and create a trellis. Because we’re twisted, we give you more parts than necessary. Your job is to figure it out by what doesn’t fit. We actually have a prize for the team finishing first.”
“I’d like to give someone a prize.” Todd leered at the woman plastered to his side. Looked promising for the dude to get lucky tonight.
“I bet you would,” Gemini muttered. He frowned and shook his head at Andromeda. His dreadlocks, pulled back in a bunch on the back of his head, swung with the motion.
Alex watched the byplay between Rawlings and the others with interest. There was definitely something in the interaction he’d be able to use to distract Todd if necessary. If Gitta would just stay hidden, a diversion wouldn’t be needed.
If Mike Simon got wind of his subterfuge, Alex’s ass would be grass and Mike would turn into the lawn-grooming machine from hell. He’d definitely get fired. If it ever came out he’d suppressed either story—Julia Grimes living in secret as Jules Capelli, or Gitta Grimes hiding after plastic surgery—he’d be persona non grata in the industry. He should care about the effect of his silence on his career. But damn, he found he cared more about how
leaking the story would harm Jules.
She leaned forward to grab a water pitcher. The V-neck of her light blue T-shirt gaped open, offering Alex a tantalizing view of full, ripe breasts. He slid lower in his chair, using the cover of the table to adjust his now-too-tight jeans. Jules picked that moment to finally meet his eyes. Judging by the color rising in her cheeks, his expression made his wayward thoughts obvious.
The memory of her plump lips, and those perfect, apple-shaped mounds pressed against his chest, stirred him. In more ways than just the physical, although it was purely the physical causing trouble right now. Because, dammit, dinner was over and he was expected to stand up and walk out in his, uh . . . current situation.
Moving his gaze around the room, Alex caught Rawlings leer at Andromeda. The peckerhead moved behind her and lowered his mouth to her ear. Crimson flashed into the blonde’s cheeks as Todd nudged his hips against her butt, his intention clear to everyone in the room.
Scowling, Gemini pivoted sharply and abruptly exited, his stride stiff; angry. Rawlings grabbed a bottle of the really excellent red wine Jules had provided with the meal, hooked two clean glasses between his fingers, and jerked his pretty-boy head toward the front porch.
As they vacated the room, along with everyone else, Alex realized Jules had remained seated, a half-smile on her lips.
“What?” he asked.
“As long as Andromeda keeps Todd occupied, he might not realize who I am,” she whispered.
The happy twinkle in her eyes did him in. This woman had snared his attention the way a juicy scandal held readers of gossip rags hostage. Never had he met a female who wormed her way into his consciousness like this. Smart, patient, generous—with a rocking mouth and body to match. No way in hell would he break either story now, even though holding his tongue was bound to derail his career in entertainment news.
Hidden in the Vines (Romancing the Vine) Page 4