by Chloe Blake
“What?”
“I said, you win.” He brought her close and put a hand to her cheek. “I concede. You have a lot more to gain from this than I do. I want you to go back to New York and make the most of it. I’ll bet your daughter will be unstoppable, just like her mother.”
Their lips touched, and she curled around him for dear life. “I love you,” she murmured against his mouth, simultaneously afraid and relieved that she’d let it slip out.
He pulled back slowly, his gaze running over her face. He didn’t look happy at her declaration. His steady gaze turned distressed.
He spoke after an excruciatingly long silence. “I wish I knew what to say.”
“Well, if you don’t know, then there’s nothing else,” she said with a sad smile.
“No, that’s not...what I mean is...” He closed his eyes. “My life is no longer here. I have nothing to offer you. I wish I did. I wish things were different.” He studied her face, then lowered his gaze. “Goodbye, Nicole.”
And, just like that, he was gone.
It was over.
She’d gotten her sale.
And lost everything.
New York City
Three weeks later, Nicole sat in her new office, going over documents with her two associates. The office contained a mahogany desk, a Persian rug and a leather couch, and there was a huge window with a view of the corner store that was across from Central Park. Not quite the view she had hoped for, but she was big-time now, and that was all that mattered. That had been the goal...right?
Landing in New York had been surreal. She’d told herself it was good to be home and then cried for hours. The tears were a daily occurrence for about two weeks, but she’d gotten good at distracting herself with work, Netflix and wine.
She hadn’t heard from Destin, and she hadn’t reached out, either. In the back of her mind, a fairy tale played in which he showed up at her office declaring his love. Or, at least, called her on the phone and declared his love. She’d even take something by snail mail if it meant a word from him. If only she could get him out of her head.
Drinks with friends, client lunches, office parties, yoga—the things that had previously given her joy now felt like a burden. Even work no longer gave her that feeling of girl power she’d once had. Being the boss just didn’t seem so important anymore.
She typed an email while her two associates gave her an update on a development property in Belize, a place she would have loved to visit, but as a senior director, she no longer had to do the legwork. She took the meetings, vetted the clients, delivered the strategy and put out any fires—without leaving her office. All she had to do now was call the adoption agency.
She didn’t know why she hadn’t yet.
“And before I forget, Clay Winchester called. Something about Brazil,” said Eric, her new assistant.
Nicole stopped typing. Clay was the last person she wanted to talk to. His impulsiveness had cost her the love of her life. No, she couldn’t blame it all on Clay. Maybe if she’d told Destin about the offer sooner...her thoughts trailed off.
She still had a vivid picture of how Destin had looked when she’d told him she loved him. Pure fear, with a touch of distress. He’d run like the cops were chasing him. And she just stood there and watched him go. But what had her choices been? He had nothing to give her, he’d said. That included love.
The knock on her door brought her out of her thoughts. Gustavo stood in her doorway, handsome as ever. But her heart no longer fluttered at the sight of him. She’d left it in Brazil.
“May I talk to you?” he asked.
“Of course.”
Her team gathered their laptops and hurried out of her office, closing the door behind them. Gustavo took a chair.
“How’s it going?”
“Well. It’s more paperwork than I thought it would be, but it’s good.”
“Um, Nicole. I got a call from Clay—you haven’t scheduled his team to come in and sign the paperwork yet?”
Nicole struggled to meet his eyes. “I did. Of course I did.”
“When is the date?”
“Um...let me check with Eric. He was supposed to send them the draft to review.”
“Eric said you told him to hold it.”
Nicole swallowed. “Well, something crazy happened. Remember Seguay? He’s really into rebuilding the Dechamps winery, maybe even as a silent partner. I just—”
“So you’re telling me you purposely put this company at risk by not processing an agreed-upon sale with the Winchester family.”
“Well, when you put it that way.” She held his gaze for a second. “Yes, I did.”
Gustavo’s frustrated sigh hurt her more than she thought it would. “Nicole, I need to get that paperwork signed. Right now.”
“I can’t do that.”
Gustavo frowned, his face hardening and his voice rising. “What has gotten into you? I’ve always supported you, Nicole. This promotion was well deserved, but I can’t let you put this company in jeopardy. This deal is closed. You will hand over the original paperwork so we can process this sale!”
Nicole reached into her desk and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “Here’s my letter of resignation.”
He snatched it from her hand, looking back and forth between her and the letter. “Why?”
“It’s a long story. But this sale shouldn’t have happened. And I’m trying to make it right.” She stood and gathered her purse, taking one more look around the room before meeting her boss’s confused gaze. “I don’t want you to get hurt in the process, Gustavo. I’ve learned so much from you. I did this. And I’m sorry.”
“I don’t understand, Nicole.”
“You will. Again, I’m so sorry.”
Nicole held her head high and walked briskly from the office, nodding and waving to those she passed in the hallway. She felt guilty, running out like a thief in the night, afraid of what they’d think of her when they found out that she actually did send out the paperwork, just not to Clay.
The original, incomplete copies should be on their way to Porto Alegre and landing on Destin’s château doorstep within a day or two. She wasn’t even sure he was still living there, but it was the only address she had. If he wasn’t, she hoped, somehow, it would be forwarded into his hands.
Then he’d know that the land wasn’t gone. His vines were safe, for a little while, at least.
And she wasn’t a soulless lawyer who only wanted to make a sale. She was a woman who loved him.
Chapter 21
Rio Grande do Sul...
It wouldn’t have worked, Destin told himself over the next couple of weeks. She had a life, a career and a plan. He had—he held up the thick binder of property sale paperwork that had landed on his doorstep two days ago—nothing. She’d said she loved him. At least, she thought she did. Brazil could do that to a person, make them fall in love with love. She’d get over it.
So would he.
That thought stayed with him as he sat in his father’s hotel room sipping a glass of wine from their French estate. Exceptional, Nicole had called it. He sighed. When would he stop thinking of her? He could be in the middle of picking brambles from Magnus’s coat, and a memory of her would surface—her smiling at the beach, tasting his wine, the way she looked when she kissed him in the night.
He needed those memories to fade. So he could get back to his life, whatever that was.
“I’m glad to see you, Destin,” Armand said. Destin noted that his father sat next to him, in the other wooden chair in front of the desk. He’d been avoiding the old man’s calls for over a week, but today he had no choice but to see him. “I don’t expect you to forgive me.”
“And I don’t, not yet, anyway. That’s not why I’m here.” Destin held up the papers and set them on the desk. “This arrived on my
doorstep.”
Armand took the packet and flipped through the pages, frowning. “It’s the sale papers.”
“They haven’t been processed. A mix-up, I guess. Maybe you should send them to whatshisname.”
“Miss Parks sent these to you?”
Destin sucked in a breath at her name. “Like I said, it’s probably just a mix-up.”
“Have you spoken with her?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“I saw you together, in the hallway during our meeting. The way you looked at her, I thought...”
Destin drained his wine and stood, avoiding his father’s eyes. “It’s over. And she’s gone. Goodbye, Father.”
“Destin, wait, please.” Armand grabbed two sheets of paper from his desk and handed them to Destin. His father’s signature was at the bottom of both.
“What is this?”
“I’m transferring the deed of the property to you.” Destin’s astonished gaze snapped to his father’s. “You were right. Your mother did want you to have it. I’ve made many mistakes, son, and I don’t want this to be one of them. Sign at the bottom, and the land is yours.”
“How...when did you do this?” He was afraid to hope, and yet he felt it rising with every breath.
“I decided to call my lawyers after I saw you kissing Miss Parks in the hallway. This debacle wasn’t her fault. It was mine. Then I received a call from Kingsley’s saying they’d misplaced the paperwork. I took it as a sign I was doing the right thing. I’ve already called Mr. Winchester. There will be no sale. I hope you’ll accept this land. There are no clauses, no strings attached. You are welcome to have a lawyer review the details. Maybe Miss Parks will review it for you.”
“You’ve spoken to her?”
“No. It seems that Miss Parks no longer works at Kingsley’s.”
Destin’s head whipped up. “What? Where is she?” His father studied his reaction and smiled, sending Destin into a frustrated state. “What are you smiling about?”
“You’re in love again, son.”
“I’m—” Destin blinked, unable to pull his thoughts together. Calm, you have to remain calm. “Where is she?”
“I don’t know, but I hope you’ll go find her. You deserve to be happy.” Destin could only stare at his father. Who was this person? “You know, I met your mother at a conference in London. She had her career there and didn’t want to give it up. She was a city girl, I was a country boy. It wasn’t easy, but we made it work.”
“I never knew she worked in London.”
“She had been employed by the London Times as a journalist. Quite a demanding job, if I remember. I took the four-hour train to London every weekend just to see her. Those were good times.”
The moral of this story wasn’t lost on Destin, but a four-hour train ride and a seven-hour plane ride were two very different things. But it wasn’t like he couldn’t stay for a few weeks at a time. He liked New York.
What was he thinking? She’d told him she loved him, and he’d walked away. If she was smart—and she was—she’d hate him.
Destin looked at the contract, then to his father. He meant it when he said he didn’t forgive his father for everything that has happened, but as he stared at the papers, he could already feel his heart lightening.
“What about the debt? What are you going to do?”
“I will figure this out, Destin. I’m a businessman, and no one is going to take my company.” Destin had heard that hard edge in his father’s voice before. He pitied whoever came up against him.
“Thank you, Father.”
“I love you, son.” His father’s eyes, the ones he saw in the mirror every day, were tearing up.
Destin gripped the papers and swallowed hard. “I love you, as well.”
He quit the room before he started to weep. The land was his. His. He needed a lawyer. He needed...the elevator was too slow. He raced down the stairs and out into the street.
New York City
“They passed,” Nicole said over the phone, doing her best to keep the annoyance from her voice. It was too early in the morning for this.
“For God’s sake, why?”
“Honestly, Mr. Dean, everyone I’ve driven to the estate falls in love with it, until you walk into the living room.”
“Then you didn’t stage it properly!”
“It’s not the staging, it’s the smell.”
“But the dogs are in a kennel. My precious babies are living in a doggie jail right now because you said it would obstruct the sale to leave them there.”
“They are in a dog hotel being treated like royalty. The smell, however, is still lingering. No one is going to spend one point three million dollars on a country home that smells like a pack of wolves.”
“They are Japanese Akitas! And all you have to do is burn some candles!”
She imagined it would take a thousand vanilla-coconut pillars just to mask the odor. Then she imagined the place in flames. “I’ve called another cleaning crew. They’ll be there tomorrow.”
“I expected more from you, Miss Parks. You’re supposed to be the best.”
She was the best at international sales, not babysitting dogs or selling smelly celebrity homes. “Mmm-hmm. Sorry you’re disappointed. I’m happy to connect you with another agent.”
“No! You told me you could sell this. So sell it!”
The phone went dead. And to think she’d thought he was so hot in his last movie. She slumped over her desk and rested her head in her hands. Was it lunchtime yet? She looked at the clock. Nine-thirty in the morning. When had she become a clock-watcher?
When she came back from Brazil. No, she refused to think about him.
She craved another coffee and made her way to the kitchen. From her vantage point, she could see a group of well-dressed men waiting in the lobby. One was flirting with Beverly, the receptionist. Nicole shook her head. Men.
Her new boss appeared, shook their hands and led them back toward the conference rooms.
Tapping her fingers on the granite counter, she waited for the Keurig to fill her coffee, then held the mug in both hands, taking stock of the warmth. She needed it. Nicole wandered into reception.
“Who was that?” she asked Beverly.
“Someone looking for property in France.”
Nicole’s eyebrows went up, but her interest stalled when she remembered that she no longer worked in international sales. She sighed and sipped her coffee on the way back to her office, wondering if she could actually find a place that would deliver a thousand vanilla candles.
She entered her office and was halfway into her seat when she realized a man in a suit was standing by the back wall gazing up at her Harvard degree plaque.
“Oh, excuse me? Are you looking for the conference room?”
He turned. “No, I’m looking for you.”
Her heart stopped.
Destin’s dark hair was freshly trimmed, well above the collar of his tailored shirt. His clean-shaven jaw was square and strong, and revealed a small dimple right in the middle of his chin. He was wearing that cologne, the one that made her think of forests and rain.
Nicole had always thought he was handsome with the beard and the cargo pants, but this...damn.
The only thing that kept her from running across the room and strangling him was the supplicating look in his blue eyes.
“Hi, Nicole. How have you been?”
She restrained the urge to burst into an angry rant. Or bitter tears. Actually, she couldn’t move. Her pulse was hammering, and the liquid inside her coffee mug was threatening to spill.
“I’m well. You look...” she exhaled “...different.”
“You look beautiful. It’s so good to see you.”
“Is it?” Sarcasm dripped from her tone.
His mouth
formed a straight line. “Nicole, I have so much to apologize for. So much to tell you.” His palms came up, and he began to step forward, but he halted when she held up her hand.
Setting her quivering coffee on the coaster, she moved to the side of her desk and perched on the edge, crossing her arms over her chest. “Tell me what?”
“That I’m sorry. I should have answered your calls, your texts. I was blaming you for something that wasn’t your fault. I was blaming everyone but myself.”
“You could have called to tell me that.”
He didn’t rise to her snark, just looked around the room, then his gaze came back to hers. “I got your packet. Is that why you left Kingsley’s?”
“I didn’t want my boss to suffer any consequences of my actions.”
He paused. “I owe you, Nicole. I know that must have been hard. Your promotion was on the line.” He slowly stepped toward her, as if afraid she’d run off. “I gave the documents to my father. We finally talked. He signed over the land to me. It’s mine.”
That news made her soul sing, but she kept her cool. “That’s good news. What are you going to do?”
“Rebuild. I raised enough to start from scratch. I just need the right people beside me.” He was watching her carefully.
She couldn’t breathe. “Does that mean I get two cases of free wine?”
“You could have a lifetime of free wine if you wanted it.” The deep baritone of his voice triggered a tingling over her skin.
Nicole ground her teeth as she studied him. How many nights had she dreamed of that face, that body? He came closer, so close she could have reached out and touched him if she wanted. And she wanted to...badly.
“Are you happy here?” he asked.
“Yes.”
His blue gaze pinned her.
“I don’t know. No.” She swallowed, unable to look away. “I haven’t been happy since you left me at the hotel.”
Destin closed in on her, his lips inches from hers, his hands warm as they traveled up and down her back. “Every day, I thought about seeing you again. Doing that day over.” A lone tear fell down Nicole’s cheek, then another and another. Destin swiped at the tears with his thumb and held her face in his hand. “Don’t cry.” He kissed her, softly at first and then with more pressure.