by Lexi C. Foss
“No need. We’ll shop when we get there.”
“Excuse me?”
“You would understand, had you been listening.”
I shook my head. “My suits will have to do, then, and no way did I miss that much of the conversation.”
His chuckle was a velvet caress over my skin. “Perhaps not, but needling you is becoming one of my favorite pastimes. In addition to you checking me out, of course.”
I rolled my eyes. “Well, I hope you enjoyed it, Mister Mershano, because it won’t be happening again.”
“Oh, we’ll see about that, Miss Dawson. I give it an hour.”
“Cocky.” I shifted my focus to the rolling landscapes outside the window. Apparently, we’d left the city.
“Confident,” he corrected.
“Uh-huh.” Taller mountains appeared in the distance as we continued our drive, stealing all my attention. Born and raised in the Midwest with a minimal budget left my travel experience rather lacking. Ryan took me on a few trips while we dated, but those always involved a beach and me in a bikini.
I knew from my research that Will’s headquarters was located north of Charlotte, closer to the Virginia border, but he owned vineyards throughout the southern states. “Why North Carolina?” I wondered out loud.
“What do you mean?” His voice warmed me in a way few voices could.
“What made you choose North Carolina for Mershano Vineyards?” I finally looked at him, and found his brow creased. “You own several other properties in South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Louisiana, right?”
“I suppose that detail wouldn’t be in the corporate files I sent over.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, in short, my family is from here.”
I frowned. “I thought the Mershano ‘empire’ was headquartered in New Orleans?” I used finger quotes around “empire” since it was a term coined by the media.
“Sure, but that’s Evan’s family dynasty, not mine. A lot of people like to say we’re brothers since I essentially grew up with him, but we’re cousins. I was born here, where I lived with my parents until the car crash.” His gaze grew distant at the mention of what had to be a painful memory, and I reached for his hand on instinct.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling like an idiot. Of course I knew that about his parents. Not necessarily that they were from here, but that they’d died. Sarah had mentioned it once when she explained his familial relation to Evan. Most would assume them to be brothers due to their similar eyes and statures.
He twisted his hand, palm up, and wrapped his fingers around mine to give a gentle squeeze. “It was a long time ago,” he murmured with a small smile as his thumb drew circles against my wrist. “But I always wanted to come back, and I did.”
I opened my mouth to reply, when my phone buzzed a familiar ringtone. Ryan. Dropping Will’s hand, I fiddled through my purse to silence the tone and then sent him a quick message.
With my client.
In North Carolina? he returned not fifteen seconds later.
I shivered. His text confirmed all my suspicions about him keeping tabs on me. The thought of it had always bothered me, but the reality was so much worse. Because now I knew he had the connections to monitor my travel.
This was why I couldn’t move. Ryan would know. Just like he knew about my business trip, one that was planned two days ago. Which also meant he knew I didn’t have a return ticket booked yet because we didn’t know how long this next round of reviews would take.
“Are you all right?” Will asked. He couldn’t see the screen but could surely see my expression.
I forced a smile. “Yeah, fine. Just—” The phone dinged again.
How is the weather in Charlotte? was his follow-up message.
It’s hot. I’m with my client. Which he already knew. Not that he would care.
Don’t forget our engagement photos this weekend.
I blinked at the message. He never mentioned anything about photos but did say something about an announcement.
I won’t be home this weekend. I hit send before I could delete the words and held my breath. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that. A version of no in a text. I can’t talk, I quickly added before he could call or respond, and silenced my phone before shoving it back into my bag with more force than necessary.
Oh God . . . He was going to lose it. Would he find me in Charlotte? My hotel wasn’t part of the itinerary, but I doubted he’d let a thing like that hold him back.
Fuck. My shoulders seemed to lock in place as the scenery passed by in a blur. What would he do the next time I saw him? Hit me? Choke me again?
And when he realized I had no intention of going through with his wedding, then what? Would he force me down the aisle?
I pinched the bridge of my nose and blew the air from my lungs, then jumped when a warm hand brushed up my arm to my tense shoulder.
“Rachel,” Will murmured. “You know you can talk to me, right?”
“Oh, it’s nothing.” My voice shook with the lie, so I cleared my throat. “Everything’s fine.” Just my insane stalker ex knowing my every move. “How much longer is the drive?” Was Ryan tracking my phone? I had no doubt he already knew the name of my client, which made the location easy to find as well, but that didn’t make it any less creepy.
“Another twenty minutes or so. You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”
“Yep.” That wasn’t a lie in the slightest. I flipped to the first topic change that sprung to mind, which, of course, was work related. “So I’ve been wondering about why you want to expand internationally. Why Nice?”
His gaze searched my features for too long, then he sighed and dropped the hand that was still on my shoulder, leaving me feeling cold. “This vineyard grows a unique variety of grapes only found in that region.”
“Which means it’ll be different from your existing brand, right?”
“Very.”
I tried to think like a businessman, to understand his vision. “Okay, so you’re acquiring a new variety to add to your collection, right?”
“Yes, I’m expanding my collateral.” He turned toward me as he continued. “As you’ve seen, the French vineyard has required the family name remain on their product. As they’ve already established a clientele, I have no problem adhering to that. Mershano Vineyards will essentially operate as a silent owner, which gives me more bargaining power with retail chains and restaurants. Instead of offering only Mershano brands, I’ll be able to offer international brands with reputable backgrounds.”
He settled into his seat and cast me an unreadable expression. “I also like the challenge of learning something new, and the Mediterranean region offers a different variety of grapes.”
I nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll admit that I was surprised you agreed to not tying your name to the product.”
“It’ll be there on the label in small print, but the original family name will be what consumers notice.”
“It’s smart. But the property in Greece you want to own.” I phrased it not as a question but as a statement. He hadn’t started negotiations with that one yet but planned to at a later date.
“Right, because it’s run-down and not being cared for properly. My advisors are calling it a gamble because it’s a major renovation that may prosper, or fail. But as I said, I like a good challenge.” His gaze darkened on that last bit and dropped briefly to my lips before trailing back up to my eyes. “The harder the fight, the sweeter the reward.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t so sure we were talking about wine anymore. The car pulled off the highway, which momentarily distracted me and saved me from having to answer. But then we continued down a road that appeared to lead to nowhere.
“Is your office out here?” Because it seemed off the beaten path.
“My office, yes, but I think you mean my headquarters, which is not.”
I looked at him. “I thought we were meeting the team.”
“We are, but at my home.
It’s an easier location for my employees who work remotely. Our main office is in a building just north of Charlotte, but I only stop in there once a week at most. It’s a location for our sales and marketing team to meet with prospective clients, but not much else. You’ll find that the majority of us prefer to work near the product.”
“So where am I staying this week?” I noticed my itinerary didn’t include the hotel, but I assumed it was just missing from my documents.
“I have plenty of open rooms at my estate, if you’re comfortable staying with me. Otherwise, there’s a motel about five minutes from the primary vineyard.”
“Is it typical for you to host an employee at your home?”
He chuckled. “Actually, yes. Several live on my property.”
The way he said it had me frowning. “How big is this house?”
“Oh, darlin’, let’s talk after you meet the team.”
10
Playing Doctor
Will’s amusement made a hell of a lot more sense now that I stood in the center of his property. I spun around in a circle, awed by my surroundings. Vineyards sprawled to my left, going on for what looked like miles from my standpoint. Mountains decorated the landscape beyond it, giving the area a wilderness feel that was belied by the small community at my back.
“That’s the original winery.” Will pointed to the large building to our right. “We still use it for these vineyards, but most of what I produce out here is aged for long periods and kept within the family.”
“So this was your original investment.” I couldn’t keep the shock out of my voice. Talk about impressive.
“Yep, but it didn’t look like this when I bought it. See that tree about fifty yards out?” He waited for me to nod. “Everything beyond it was dead, and the winery had seen better days. They used to pick all the grapes with this old machine that has long since retired. I prefer to gather by hand, hence all the necessary employees for the various vineyards. It’s more expensive, but the wine is better for it.”
“Interesting.” I was too fascinated to come up with a better word. This was nothing like I imagined. All the millionaires I knew dressed in fancy suits and lived in boardrooms, yet here was Will, standing in the middle of a field, explaining his world.
“Anyway, that home over there”—he pointed to a house with a long front porch directly across from the vineyard—“is the newest and houses the Greggory family. Sam Greggory manages this vineyard for me now, so it’s helpful to have him live close by. The home on the other side of the winery over there is for employees during grape harvest season. Those can be some grueling shifts, so I like to keep everyone safe. Most of my estate staff reside in the lodging over there.” He gestured to what reminded me of apartments down the road away from the winery.
“And the home way over there, up on that hill, is mine. That’s where we’re meeting everyone for dinner.”
“I see.” Millionaire. Right. Got it. “You own a lot of land.”
His grin held a touch of boyishness. “I’ve expanded as needed.”
“Uh-huh.”
He glanced at my feet. “I would recommend we walk up the hill to my place, but you’re not properly dressed for it.”
“I walk Chicago in heels every day.”
“Not the same, darlin’.”
My eyes narrowed. “I can handle a hill.” It didn’t look that far away. Maybe three blocks, tops. Easy.
He folded his arms over his broad chest. “Care to make it interesting?”
“As in a bet?”
“More like a challenge with rewards.”
The competitor in me stepped up to the plate and cocked a brow at him. “Go on.”
“A race. If I win, you stay at my house the entire week.”
“Hardly fair considering you live here and are wearing”—I studied his shoes with a frown—“…not necessarily sneakers… But men’s footwear still has a leg up on women’s heels any day.”
“I promise to walk the entire way, but you can run.”
I scoffed at that. To assume I would have to run to beat him? “Yeah, because that’s not arrogant at all.”
“You were the one who stated male footwear trumps heels any day.”
Okay, he had me there. “So I can run, if I want, but you have to walk. And if you beat me up there, I have to stay in your house all week. What do I get if I win?”
He spread out his hands. “Whatever you want.”
I took in my surroundings and what appeared to be a gorgeous home up on that hill. Staying there would not be a hardship in the slightest. But . . . “What if I want to stay in your house while you sleep at the motel?”
His laugh was unexpected and charming. “Kicking the client out of his own home? Surely Janet wouldn’t approve.” His light tone said he wasn’t offended, so I rolled with it.
“Well, she’s not here, and this little wager is between you and me.” I waggled my finger between us. “Unless you’re afraid you might lose.”
“Oh, darlin’, I know I won’t.”
“Then game on.”
“I’ll even give you a head start. Just follow the road.” He pointed to the long driveway ahead of me where Rudy had stopped the town car. The older man stood leaning against it with a smirk on his face. Seemed Will wasn’t the only one who expected me to lose.
“You’re going to regret underestimating me, Mister Mershano.”
“Likewise, Miss Dawson.” His cocky grin hit me square in the lower abdomen. Confidence was definitely one of his sexier traits, not that I would ever admit it out loud.
“I hope you enjoy motel rooms!” I shouted as I started up the hill at a brisk pace. No way would I run up the hill in these two-inch heels. They would break in the gravel. But a quick walk? No problem. I spent most mornings at the gym, though I’d taken a bit of a hiatus thanks to this giant project. Still, it couldn’t be that hard. I walked over a mile in heels every day to work, and back again.
My feet started to complain about a quarter of the way up, mostly because the point of my stiletto kept catching between rocks. Will’s knowing chuckle slid up my spine as he followed, his steps silent on the gravel. I almost looked over my shoulder, but I caught myself. Knowing he was there, closing the distance with every step, pushed me harder.
The sensation of being stalked sent a chill down my spine, and my pulse kicked up a notch. It had nothing to do with exertion or the desire to win, but with the thrill of the chase. His game evolved in my head, causing me to lengthen my strides as I felt him nearing. I considered kicking off my shoes and running, but the gravel would destroy my stockings, and I was rather fond of them. And as athletic as I was, no way could I pull off running in these heels. I’d break my ankle.
“I’ll admit”—his breath was warm against the back of my neck, eliciting a yelp of surprise—“you’re doing far better than I anticipated, but we’re only halfway there, and even with the five-minute lead I gave you, I’m about to pass you.”
I turned around to smack him on the chest for scaring the shit out of me and caught my heel on a rock instead. His hands caught me before I could fall and yanked me back against his chest to steady me. My limbs shook so hard from the adrenaline coursing through my system that I couldn’t move. Caught, my body seemed to say. Submit. I shivered as that word traversed my thoughts.
“Do you want another head start?” he whispered. “Or do you surrender?”
I trembled at the word surrender. Why did that sound so alluring on his lips? I’d given up control once and it hadn’t ended well, yet something about this man made me want to consider trying again. “Giving me another head start would be cheating.”
His hands seemed to tighten on my hips as he inhaled deeply, pressing his chest hard into my back. “I wouldn’t mind catching you again.” The words were hot against my ear. “Unless you forfeit, in which case I can call for the car.”
I stared up at the house. Halfway, he’d said. Exhilaration swam through my blood, exciting
every nerve. The idea of a chase floored me in a way I never could have anticipated. A fun reprieve from reality, maybe? In any case, the idea of pushing Will sounded like an excellent diversion. But it would mean ruining my stockings. Oh well. I had a suitcase full of them. What was one pair for a little fun?
“Forfeiting isn’t in my nature,” I told him as I kicked off my heels and took off at full speed up the hill. Rather than stick to the gravel path, I took to the grassy field and heard him shout something behind me. Maybe a curse or a word about his future stay at the motel. Grinning like a lunatic, I bounded up the hill, my sights on the house above, and felt triumph bubbling to the surface just as my foot nailed a sharp rock. It sent me flying forward into a grassy mound that softened the blow, but my left ankle throbbed. Will’s face hovered over me a second later as he fell to his knees, his hands on my leg.
“Right. That backfired badly,” I said through gritted teeth.
He said nothing as he examined my ankle, rotating it and making me wince in the process. “I don’t think it’s broken, but very likely sprained.” His warm touch drifted up and down my lower leg before he met my gaze. “I tried to warn you about the rocks.”
I tried to smile and failed. Instead, I ended up biting my lip and lying back in the grass as my pain receptors caught up with my ankle. The adrenaline coursing through my system had weakened the impact, but now that it’d worn off, a flood of sensation rushed through my limbs and brought tears to my eyes.
Will took one look at my face and sighed. “Yeah, bad idea on my part. I’m going to need to carry you.”
I grabbed his wrist before he could wrap it beneath my shoulders. “Just help me up.” I paused to take a deep, steadying breath because, fuck, my ankle hurt. Dizziness hit me next, causing me to forget what I’d been about to say. Will twisted easily from my grip and slipped his arms beneath me. I didn’t get a chance to argue as he lifted me with ease and began the ascent up the hill. The lawyer in me who loved a good fight fled as I wrapped my arms around his neck and gave in to his strength.