Hot Alphas

by Lora Leigh

  “Yeah,” she said. She turned and looked at him. Her eyes glistened, but the tears didn’t spill. “Time and age are proving there are some battles even the best men can’t win.”

  “Is that why you sold to Marcus Reed? Because of your dad’s failing health.”

  “That’s the really sad part. The plan all along was for the winery to come to me, but Dad was handling the books while the dementia was beginning to take hold. He made some bad business decisions. The place was paid for, but he borrowed against the vineyard a couple of years ago to buy more land without telling me. He wanted a wine cave that’s across the road. It was dug into the hillside years ago, back before prohibition. We couldn’t afford the payments on the new mortgage, but I didn’t find out until we were so far in arrears there was no digging our way out. This is a small winery—our biggest year we did just under two thousand cases—and he paid top dollar for the cave and surrounding vineyard. The good thing is, he got some beautiful old Zinfandel vines that still produce really well. The bad thing is, we couldn’t pay the bills. We were getting ready to declare bankruptcy when Marcus Reed stepped in with enough cash to pay off the mortgage and pay for Dad’s care.”

  She swiped at one errant tear that had obviously managed to slip free. Nate merely nodded. “But you’re still here?”

  “Yeah.” She smiled in a sad sort of agreement. “I’m still here. I’m part of the deal. We were making award-winning wines during the whole mess, and I guess that’s what Mr. Reed wanted. The awards, the accolades. In that respect, we came out okay. I still have a roof over my head, and Dad’s taken care of. I have to concentrate on what’s important. What really matters.”

  Obviously it was family that mattered. Nate’s respect for Cassie continued to grow.

  The conversation flowed as smoothly as the wine they drank. He told her about his childhood in upstate New York, how he’d wanted to be a farmer since he was just a kid growing up on his grandparents’ farm. At first it was the idea of eating the fruits and vegetables he’d helped grow, the eggs he’d gathered, the milk he’d squeezed out of one of the two cows his grandfather kept; he liked working with his hands. When he got older, he’d discovered good wine, especially the different varietals. Curious about the process, he’d learned about wine making, which was all about the grapes, and that took him full circle, right back to the farm, to the whole concept of growing grapes to make premium wines. They talked about their classes in viticulture—his at Cornell, Cassie’s at UC Davis—and Nate’s decision to find work with a smaller winery, just like Tangled Vines.

  He wanted to do it all: from planting the rootstock and nurturing the new vines, to pruning and trellising and every step of the process, right down to supervising the picking and the delivery of perfect fruit.

  His goal from the time he’d graduated from college had been the smaller, hands-on vineyards, but all his experience to date had been with a big factory-sized operation, since they had been the only one hiring. Still he kept wanting that same intimate experience he’d gotten in college, the chance to work with the vines, with the soil. To try new things, get his hands dirty, and get to know every square inch of the vineyard.

  Marcus Reed had offered him the job of a lifetime, and it was such a rush to see the same excitement in Cass, the same dedication to the process from grape to wine that Nate felt.

  Cassie told him about growing up on a small vineyard, about the responsibility that almost overwhelmed her during her mother’s illness, what it had been like watching her dad fail and the struggle to keep everything going entirely alone.

  But she’d done it, and she’d done a good job. Her life on the vineyard, working with the wines was all she’d ever known. She loved everything about wine making, the thrill of the harvest and the rich aroma of fermenting grapes that hung over the valley during crush, the process of combining the various barrels to find the perfect blend. If not for her father’s financial problems, she’d still be living in the big house, still making her own award-winning wines.

  “I don’t get it,” Nate said. He took another swallow of Cassie’s amazing wine. He’d passed on more of the craft beers for the finest old-vine Zinfandel he’d ever tasted, but one part of the equation eluded him. “Why did Marcus Reed hire me? If you’re doing so well with the wines and the vineyard, where do I fit in?”

  She took a sip of her wine and grinned at him. “Trust me. You’ll fit. Dad was the vineyard manager for years, and the young kid who helped him, Lupe Medino, started right out of high school. We have a couple of guys who come in on a seasonal basis when they’re needed. They’ve been thinning out suckers this past week, but the rows still need to be disked to knock down the weeds. Lupe took over managing the vineyard this past year when it was obvious Dad couldn’t do it. He’s really good. He’s smart and he works hard, but he goes to the junior college and won’t have time to do the job the way he has in the past. Plus, he’s aiming for a four-year school to finish out his viticulture degree. You’ll have him to help you when he’s available, but he won’t have time to run the vineyard.”

  “Makes sense. What do you know about the new owner? He told me he wants to change the name from Tangled Vines to Intimate, something about a line of some kind of jewelry he’s planning to come out with next year.”

  Cassie merely shrugged, though it was obvious to Nate she wasn’t happy about the name change. “He’s the owner. He can do what he wants.” She glanced away and then stared at the empty pizza box and laughed. “Wow, I sure hope you ate most of that.”

  She was really stunning when she laughed. Nate went to take another sip of his wine, realized the glass was empty and reached for the bottle. “I told you I was hungry.” He picked up the empty bottle and held it to the light. “Must have been thirsty, too. Was this full when we started?”

  This time she raised her eyes to the ceiling as if looking for strength … or maybe it was forgiveness. “That bottle was full, and so was this one.” She leaned over and picked up an empty off the floor. “It’s almost eleven. We’ve been eating, drinking, and chatting for almost four hours.”

  He’d been exhausted when he arrived this evening, but now he felt energized—he didn’t want what had been an absolutely perfect evening to end. He didn’t want to overstay his welcome, either, so he stood and gathered up his paper plates and the empty wineglass. “I guess that’s my cue to let you get some rest. Thank you, Cassie. This was a much nicer welcome than I expected. I’m really looking forward to working with you.”

  He tossed the plates and set the glass in the sink. When he turned, Cassie was standing beside the counter with her plates in hand, staring at him again in that unnerving way she had. She made Nate feel as if she looked beneath his skin.

  “I’ve enjoyed myself, too,” she said. “Thanks for sharing your pizza.” She tossed the paper plates in the trash and then stuck her glass and silverware next to Nate’s in the sink.

  When she turned, they were mere inches apart. Her lips parted in surprise and he should have stepped back, given her room. But whatever had been simmering between them all evening slowly, steadily—as if he watched one of those stupid slow-motion explosions in a movie—exploded.

  He cupped the back of her head with his palm and looked into her eyes. She didn’t move, but this time when she looked at him, there was nothing at all unnerving in her stare. He saw heat and desire, a need every bit as powerful as his own. As he slowly dipped his head to take her mouth, he gave her every opportunity to pull away.

  She didn’t. One hand rested on his shoulder, the other softly caressed the back of his neck. Just before he kissed her, she sighed. It was the smallest hint of surrender.

  It was all Nate needed.

  She tasted of pizza and wine. The lush flavor of grapes was heady enough on its own, but combine that with the taste of Cassie Phillips and Nate freely admitted he didn’t have a prayer of stepping away.

  * * *

  This was probably one of the stupidest things
she’d ever done. She had no time for a man in her life, not now, but damn this guy could kiss. He was tall and lean, at least six two or three, and movie-star gorgeous. When she first saw him, she’d thought of Bradley Cooper with his thick, dark hair and beautiful blue eyes, but beyond the way he looked, he was funny, smart, and compassionate. He’d kept her laughing most of the evening with his dry sense of humor, and the time had flown. She hadn’t sat and just talked with a man for almost three years.

  She’d never spent time talking with a man like Nate Dunagan.

  The rambling conversations with her father didn’t count, and she was too damned busy trying to hold things together to spend anytime in town where she might actually meet someone single and interesting. But Nate talked passionately about his work, about his hopes for the future, about what he wanted to do here at Tangled Vines.

  They agreed on so much it was almost unsettling.

  When he finally broke the kiss and rested his chin on top of her head, they were both breathing hard. She wanted him. The need was so primal, so visceral, it left her shaken, but that kiss hadn’t been enough. Not nearly enough.

  He held her face between his palms and kissed her again, lightly. “Damn. When I first saw you, I thought you were beautiful, but I never expected to like you as much as I do. Or want you as badly as I do.” He laughed. “But I do, Cassie. Which means I’d better leave before I use any arguments I can think of short of brute force to haul you off to bed.”

  She laughed and buried her face against his chest. He felt so wonderfully solid. Strong enough to lift some of the overwhelming pressure of trying to keep Tangled Vines alive for the past couple of years while everything went to hell. “Nate, there hasn’t been a man in my bed for over three years. I probably wouldn’t remember what to do with you if I got you there.”

  He chuckled and nuzzled the sensitive skin behind her ear. But he didn’t let her go. “I imagine it’s sort of like riding a bike.”

  “Ya think?” She gazed up at him, head tilted, and realized their teasing had taken on a more intimate note. Was she ready for this? She was certainly attracted. Probably too attracted.

  “I’m positive.”

  He kissed her again, and she found herself opening to him. Holding him close enough to feel the solid proof of his erection against her belly and the yearning, tugging pull deep in her womb. When the kiss ended by mutual consent, both of them were breathing hard. “Wow.” She licked her lips. “Maybe you’re right. It’s all coming back to me.”

  “Me, too.” He kissed her again, quick and hard. “I don’t want to leave.”

  “I don’t want you to go.” She unbuttoned the top button on his shirt, and then the second so she could run her fingers over the hard curves of his chest. “We’d need protection,” she said. “If I have any condoms, they’re out of date.” Then she raised her head and grinned at him. “And believe me, I am so sorry right now that I’m not prepared, because I’d really like for you to stay.” Chuckling, he reached for his hip pocket and pulled out his wallet. “Don’t give up hope. Not yet.” He dug through the notes and bills that filled the thing, and came up with one relatively new-looking foil packet. “I’ve got enough for one shot, so we’ll have to make it good.”

  She took it from him and cocked an eyebrow. “Just how good are you?”

  He kissed her. “I’ll let you be the judge of that.”

  She felt so comfortable with him, as if they’d known each other for years rather than hours, but at the same time the thrill of someone new, someone smart and funny and drop-dead gorgeous, was its own aphrodisiac.

  At least that’s what her body was telling her.

  She ran her hand over his hair. It was thick and so dark it was almost black, surprisingly soft, like silk beneath her fingers. “I do want you to stay,” she said. “It’s probably the wine talking and I’ll hate myself in the morning, but tonight has been the most fun I’ve had in so long I can’t remember as good a time. I’m not ready for it to end.”

  He kissed her. Briefly, sweetly. “I’ll do my best to keep you from hating yourself.” He winked. “Or hating me, either.”

  A flash of caution had Cassie adding, “No commitments, no promises. Just tonight, okay? We have to work together starting tomorrow.”

  He ran his fingertip along the bridge of her nose and touched her lips. “No promises, no commitments. But I can tell you already, tonight is going to be amazing.” Before she had time to react, he picked her up, holding her in his arms as if she were just a child. The room spun, but she held on tightly to Nate—and the condom.

  And pointed him toward the bedroom.

  CHAPTER 2

  He loved the feel of her in his arms, but he had to admit, having that little “no promises, no commitments” clause in the conversation left him feeling enormously relieved. He had no time for commitments beyond the one that had brought him here. Not when he still had to prove himself capable of the job he’d be starting tomorrow.

  He didn’t have any concerns about proving himself to Cassie tonight.

  It should have felt awkward, carrying a woman he barely knew into her bedroom, but nothing had ever felt quite this right before. They’d talked for hours, had listened to each other, shared some of the bad things in their lives, talked about the good things, and somewhere in there he’d felt a connection developing that had been so unexpected, so powerful, that this had become a necessary next step.

  She wasn’t a small woman, but she was all wiry strength and lean muscle. She felt light as a child in his arms, but there was nothing childish about her. She’d looped one arm around his neck and she studied his face with eyes as blue as a summer sky. When he laid her down on her bed, she propped herself up on her elbows and watched him as he untied her boots and tugged them off, as he pulled off her socks and then reached for her tank top.

  She sat up then, grabbed the hem and pulled it over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra, and the absolute perfection of her small, firm breasts left him speechless. He’d been ready to take off his boots, but instead he bracketed her hips with both arms, leaned forward and drew one coral-colored tip into his mouth, laving the nipple into a tight peak, tasting the salty-sweetness of her skin.

  She moaned and arched her back, pressing her breasts closer, but even though it killed him to pull away, he needed to take his boots off. Hell, he had to take everything off, so of course he tangled the strings into an impossible knot. “Shit.” He sat there cursing at his left boot as if that would make the knots magically disappear. Then he glanced at Cassie and she was folded over, laughing so hard he figured she’d be absolutely useless, but he stuck his booted foot under her nose and she deftly unknotted the strings.

  The giggles hit her hard when his boot thumped to the ground. She rolled over on her belly and buried her face in her pillow, laughing so hard her entire body shook. Nate rolled to his back on the bed, lifted his legs, and tugged off his jeans. His knit boxers stayed put, but there was no hiding the fact he was heavily aroused.

  Cassie raised her head, took a long, steady look at him, and her laughter died on a tiny whimper.

  That was encouraging. Too encouraging. Damn, but she looked so hot, lying there with her face flushed and her back bare to the frayed waistline of her worn jeans. Jeans covering the most beautiful ass he’d ever seen. He sucked in a breath. His body was caught on a knife’s edge, so damned aroused he felt strung tight, ready to explode. He clenched his hands, took a deep breath, and prayed for some semblance of control.

  Then Cassie rolled over, slipped her jeans off, and sat there in the middle of her bed, watching as he took off his shirt—the same shirt he’d been wearing since he left Paso Robles. “I should have gotten a shower first. It’s been a long day.”

  Cassie laughed and flopped backward. “I need one, too, but ya know what? I don’t care, and if you don’t, we can get one after, because I really don’t want to wait.”

  Lord, but she was beautiful, and he liked her attitude
. “Me, either.”

  He kept his boxers on as he slowly peeled away her tiny scrap of whatever she wore that was supposed to be underwear. He tugged the narrow elastic as far as her thighs and raised his head and chuckled. “You really are a natural strawberry blonde, aren’t you?”

  She growled.

  “Did you just growl at me?” He sat back and grinned at her. “Never mind.” Laughing, he tugged her panties the rest of the way down, and once he got them off, he held the thong up and studied the purple lace. “You wear these when you’re working?”

  “Yeah.” She flashed him a cocky grin. “What’s it to ya?”

  He shook his head. “I’m going to be out there in the vineyard, covered in mud, working my ass off with a hard-on, imagining you wearing these.” He hung them carefully from the bedpost, and knelt between her legs. “That doesn’t seem fair, ya know?”

  “You gonna keep those on?” She cocked one eyebrow and pointed at his boxers, the ones that did absolutely nothing to hide the fact he was beyond aroused.

  “For now. I don’t want to get sidetracked.”

  “From what?” She raised her head as he lowered his.

  “From this.”

  She sighed as he palmed her perfect ass, lifted her hips in both hands, and used his tongue and lips and even his teeth, nipping, licking, sucking until he lost himself in her flavors and silky textures. When he slipped his fingers inside, the rippling strength of her climax almost sent him over the top. She cried out, curled her back, and her fingers fluttered helplessly over his scalp, the tips of his ears, along his jaw.

  So responsive, and so beautiful when she came. He was shaking like a leaf and Cassie was still whimpering softly as he stood, stripped off his shorts, and sheathed himself.

  * * *

  She was still shuddering from an unexpected, amazing climax when Nate stood beside the bed and slipped out of his dark blue knit boxers. She’d thought he was gorgeous before, but watching him as he stood naked beside the bed and carefully rolled the condom over an absolutely beautiful erection, Cassie figured she had a visual she’d be able to fantasize over for a long, long time. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on him. Muscular, but the kind of muscles from hard work, not hours spent in a gym. A light dusting of dark hair covered his pecs and picked up again at his navel, and from there it led directly to evidence that Nate was ready to take this little interlude a step further.