The Wayward Son

by Yvonne Lindsay

  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.

  But what his six-year-old heart had wished for had never happened and, in time, he’d learned not to scan the parents’ faces at school events for the man whose features he’d always been told were an older version of his own. He’d learned to inure himself from the hope that one day his life would return to what it had been before.

  And it had made him a stronger man. A man who knew that the only person he could, or should, rely upon was himself.

  His first instinct on reading his father’s entreaty was to ball it up and to tell Anna to take it back to Charles-bloody-Wilson and to tell the old man to put it where the sun doesn’t shine. But then rationality overrode the deviation into emotionalism.

  Without realizing it, his long-estranged father had actually given Judd the opportunity he’d quietly dreamed of for many a year—payback. Not only for rejecting the son who’d so earnestly idolized him, but for what he’d done to Cynthia.

  Judd had heard the story from his mother more times than he could count—after pulling her away from her home and her family, Charles had neglected her. Ignored her. Prioritized every concern over and above his relationship with his wife. And when Cynthia, in her loneliness and frustration, had started spending more time away from home, trying to find friends and activities to fill the void left by her husband’s absence, Charles had turned into a possessive monster, constantly jealous and utterly convinced she was cheating on him.

  It had all culminated in the fight that had led Charles to kick Judd and his mother out of the house. And that was the last Judd had seen of his father. There had been no phone calls. No letters. No visits. Charles had clearly washed his hands of both of them for the past twenty-five years.

  And now, this was Judd’s chance to pay him back in kind for all the pain he and his mother had suffered. With the controlling interest in the company, Charles was placing the weapons right into his hands. Everything his mother had told him about the past had shown Charles up for a man who’d always put his business before his family. Judd knew exactly where to strike to cause the most pain, to exact the deepest satisfaction.

  He needed time to think, to consolidate the plans burgeoning in his mind, but he had no doubt that he’d shortly be accepting his father’s offer. No doubt at all.

  He looked over at Anna—his eyes raking over her and taking in the lustrous length of her hair, her exquisite beauty, her enticing feminine curves. She was all woman from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Even now, as angry as he was, she still had the capacity to excite him, to incite within him the desire to possess her in every manner of the word.

  A tug of regret pulled deep inside. His mother’s warning had done little to dim his attraction to Anna, but the letter had cast a whole new light on things. Maybe her reluctance to deliver it to him had its basis in something other than what she’d admitted. Maybe she was worried about what his entry back into his father’s life would do to affect her position there and what she stood to gain from Charles Wilson after his death. Charles had chosen her as his ambassador in his attempt at reunion, so he obviously trusted her implicitly. By her own admission she said she and the old man were close—that she cared for him deeply. How close, exactly? Were they lovers, as his mother suspected? If that was true, it would no doubt give him a double-edged sense of satisfaction when he eventually seduced her.

  But as with everything else, it would wait until the time was perfectly right. For now, he wanted her away from The Masters’ and somewhere else, where she could do no harm.

  He gestured to the food before them.

  “Are you going to eat that?”

  She shook her head. “I couldn’t, not now.”

  “Let’s go, then.”

  “Back to the vineyard?”

  “To get your things, yes, and then to take you into the city.”

  “The city?”

  “To a hotel. It may surprise you, but funnily enough, I don’t want you around my family right now. My mother’s been through quite enough over the years without adding the insult of your presence.”

  She flinched beneath his words, her face paling even more.

  “Fine,” she replied tightly. “When will you let me know your decision about Charles?”

  “In good time. You aren’t due to return to Auckland for another few days, is that correct?”

  “Yes, on Friday morning.”

  “I’ll let you know by then.”

  Anna paced the terrace of her hotel room, her cell phone to her ear.

  “I’m sorry, Charles. I screwed up. I should have just done what you told me to do.”

  Charles was surprisingly philosophical.

  “What’s done is done. It’s certainly no worse or better than what’s gone on before this. Let’s just hope he comes to
his senses and comes home before it’s too late.”

  Before it’s too late. Her heart squeezed. It wasn’t like Charles to be melodramatic. She knew he was deteriorating, but had he kept something from her? Was his health worse than even she suspected?

  “I still can’t believe you’re prepared to go to those lengths to bring him home.”

  “It’s his birthright, Anna. You know that as much as I do.”

  “But what about Nicole? Have you talked to her about this yet?”

  “I wasn’t going to say anything to her until he’s back and we know for certain he’s mine. Until then, it’s a moot point. And you’re not to say a word, either. You promised me, Anna.”

  She sighed. “Yes, I know. I won’t say a word, but keeping the truth away from her is only going to hurt all of us.”

  “Let me be the judge of that.”

  “And the house, Charles. Why the house, too? You’re talking about taking Nicole’s home right out from under her feet.”

  “Yours, too,” he reminded her with a surprisingly curt note in his voice. “But I will have to trust him to do the right thing and to continue to provide the two of you with a roof over your heads. If I don’t do that, if I don’t prove to him that I’m prepared to accept him fully, it will never work. Besides, he grew up with the Masters—I know how they feel about the house. Judd is already running their company, so offering him mine might not be enough of a draw. But no one else can give him that house.”

  “What makes you so sure you have to take such drastic steps?”

  “Because that’s what it would take to lure me back if someone had done the same thing to me.”

  If Nicole ever spoke to her again after this it would be a miracle. Anna felt a chill run the length of her spine. She stepped inside her hotel room and slid the glass door closed, but even so, she continued to feel cold. What Charles was doing was wrong, she knew it to the soles of her feet. But it was too late now. The offer had been made. She could only hope against hope that Judd would be man enough to turn it down. That he’d accept his father for who he was without the added enticement of half of Wilson Wines and the home that Charles had built for Cynthia all those years ago.

  “So you’re not going to give her any prior warning. You’re just going to present her with a brother and say this is how it’s going to be from now on?”

  “They are my children, it’s my company and my home, so this is my decision. Don’t overstep your boundaries, Anna.”

  His words stung.

  “Of course,” she said in reply, even as other more impassioned words filled her mind.

  “He said he’ll give you his decision by Friday?”

  “Yes, he did.”

  “Let’s hope it’s the right one. Let me know as soon as you’ve spoken to him.”

  “I will.”

  “Good. I’ll look forward to it.”

  His business done, the call was over, leaving Anna alone to stare at the darkening hills in the distance and to wonder just how all of this was going to end.

  Five

  “I told you I was right.” Cynthia’s eyes gleamed triumphantly.

  Judd merely nodded. He’d spent the latter part of the afternoon locked in his office, looking at his schedule and seeing where, and to whom, he could apportion his workload. It was one advantage of having several cousins all working within the same family business, he conceded. There were plenty of people just as invested as he was in making sure The Masters’ continued to run smoothly. Between his cousins and the well-trained staff they also employed, Judd felt confident he could leave the company in good hands.

  Once he had everything worked out to his satisfaction, he asked his mother for a private meeting. Her delight at the enticement Charles was offering was palpable. He hadn’t seen her this animated, ever.

  “When will you let them know your decision?” his mother pressed.

  “On Friday morning. I’ll be too busy tomorrow bringing everyone up to speed with their additional duties to be talking to Anna Garrick.”

  As soon as he said her name he felt the now-familiar tug of desire. He’d made some inquiries. She lived with Charles Wilson, which confirmed she was indeed far, far more than simply his father’s P.A. Stealing her away from him, right under the old man’s roof, was undeniably appealing but something he’d have to approach very carefully.

  “Do you know how long the DNA testing will take?”

  “I believe establishing paternity is a relatively simple process. A few days to a week for the results.”

  “You know, I cannot believe he would stoop to that. He only needs to look at you to know I never betrayed him.”

  She injected a note of pathos in her voice, but Judd had heard it all before. When she didn’t elicit the response from her son that she obviously wanted, she continued.

  “We’ll finally have back what should have been ours all along,” she said, her voice now stronger, showing her true mettle.

  “The house?”

  He should have known that would be the most important thing to her. He had to admit to a certain curiosity himself to go back to the place that had been his home for the first six years of his life. But where his mother seemed to want to reclaim the building, Judd was far more inclined to go after it with a wrecking ball…just as he planned to do with Wilson Wines. He’d take his father’s legacy apart bit by bit, and when he was done, he’d be back here at The Masters’, picking up the reins of his job once again. At that point, his mother could have the darn house for all he cared.

  “I’ll have to redecorate it, you know. Restore it to its former glory.”

  “How do you know it’s not perfect just the way it is?”

  She rolled her eyes at him. “Judd, darling, it’s been twenty-five years since I’ve set foot in there. There will be work to do, I’m sure. I poured my heart into that house—no one loved it more than I did.”

  “Let’s not put the cart before the horse, hmm?”

  “Of course. We have to satisfy your father’s ridiculous demands first. How long do you think you’ll be away?”

  “I don’t see this taking more than a month.”

  “That long?”

  He thought of his plans for the delectable Miss Garrick. A month? Maybe longer would be better. He wanted to savor this victory.

  “Maybe longer. We’ll see how it pans out.”

  After his mother left his office, he sat back in his leather chair and stared out the window at the vineyard and winery that occupied his immediate view. He enjoyed his work here, there was no doubt about that, and he was good at it. But he had become bored in recent months, feeling stifled by the lack of opportunity to make changes. Now, perhaps, even if only for a short time, he’d have the chance to really stretch his mind as he implemented his plans. Plans to dismantle his father’s empire and steal his mistress right out from under his nose.

  Anna woke on Friday morning in a state of nerves and automatically reached for her cell phone, as she had several times throughout last night. Still nothing from Judd Wilson. Just how fine was he going to cut this? She looked at the time on her phone and raced for the bathroom—the broken night’s rest having made her sleep past the time she’d wanted to rise. A car was coming to pick her up and take her to the airport for her flight in about half an hour. She’d already packed her things the night before. All she needed to do was shower and dress in the clothes she’d left out for the journey home.

  She was down in the lobby of the hotel and signing off her hotel account when a trickle of awareness filtered through the parting words of the hotel receptionist. He was here. Did that mean she’d succeeded? Was he accompanying her back to New Zealand, or maybe he was merely here to tell her in person that her quest on Charles’s behalf had failed.


  She knew she had to turn around. Had to face him. It took every ounce of strength in her body to paste a smile on her face and turn away from the reception desk. The moment her eyes lighted upon him she felt the excruciating pull of attraction. How could she still be so drawn to him when he’d been so awful to her? She’d asked herself that question over and over the past two nights, especially each time she’d woken from yet another tormented dream explicitly featuring the man standing directly opposite her.

  He’d be a formidable poker player, she thought irrationally. He let nothing show in his expression as to what he was thinking, or whatever decision he’d reached.

  “Are you ready?” he said coolly.

  “What? No good morning?” she said, unable to keep the acerbity from her voice.

  He merely raised one dark brow. Anna grabbed the handle of her wheeled suitcase and headed for the front door.

  “Let me take that for you,” Judd said, blocking her way and collapsing the extended handle and swinging the case up in one hand.

  She’d packed for only three and a half days, and she hadn’t packed light, yet he carried the bag as if it weighed nothing. Realizing he was headed for the automatic opening doors and to the dark limousine outside, she propelled herself after him.

  “Wait, I’ve ordered a taxi.”

  “And I’ve canceled it. We’ll travel together to the airport.”

  “And then?” she asked, suddenly tired of the game.

  Was he coming back to Auckland with her or not? The not knowing was playing havoc with her stomach.

  “And then we’ll check in to our flight.”

  “So you’re accepting Charles’s offer?”

  He handed her case to the waiting driver and then opened the rear door, gesturing for her to be seated inside the dark, leather-filled interior. She halted at the door, not wanting to get inside until she knew exactly where things stood.