Wine & Roses

by Susan Hughes

  Setting down his menu, Jason offered a soft smile of reassurance. “It’s all right, Abby. The place is in good hands. Colin was about to tear it down, and look what you’ve done. I couldn’t be more pleased.”

  Surprise and then relief filtered through her features, the crease of anxiety smoothing from her forehead. “I’m so glad you feel that way.”

  So that was that, then. He wouldn’t have the inn, at least not for now, but it was all right. Ever since his father’s death, Jason had been determined to reacquire the place, no matter how much persistence it took. Here and now, though, he only wanted to sit with Abby and talk to her. He wanted to learn everything about her. Observing her now, with her auburn curls falling over her shoulders, he recalled the inviting curve of her neck when her hair had been wet and slicked against it. Remembering how she had felt in his arms, warm and vibrant, and the heady excitement of her kisses, he longed to touch her again. It was easy to call to mind the lilt of her laugh, and the way her gaze held his in a way that made his heart throb heavily against the walls of his chest.

  Jason shifted uneasily in his chair. He wasn’t used to feeling this way. Since breaking off his engagement to Brianna, he’d successfully resisted falling under any woman’s spell. He’d dated a few women, but kept them at a safe emotional distance, which suited him just fine. Unfortunately, Abby was different; he couldn’t spend time with her without wanting to get more deeply involved. If there was one thing he didn’t want, it was a relationship, and all the long-term expectations that came with it. He realized that, in fairness to Abby, it would be best to walk away now.

  “Is something wrong?” she asked, eyeing him with concern.

  “No, nothing.” Jason offered a smile.

  “I’ve been meaning to thank you for the tour of your winery.”

  “Thank you for the fantastic kiss,” he added, aiming to elicit that appealing blush in her cheeks once again—and she obliged immediately.

  “As I recall, it was you who kissed me.” She looked at him with the same playful glint in her eye that had so excited him as they sat together and sampled his wines that night.

  “I didn’t hear any complaints.”

  “I had none.” Abby’s mouth quirked as she tried to suppress her grin. “But I realize that it might have just been one of those weird things that happen when you mix a sultry, moonlit evening with a bit too much wine.”

  Jason hesitated a moment. She was offering him an out; he should take it. “Maybe,” he began, wanting to agree with her, but unable to stop himself from continuing. “But I think there was more to it than just the wine and the moonlight. That slip of yours may have played a part.”

  She let out a girlish laugh. “God, the slip. What was I thinking?”

  “Not having regrets, I hope?”

  “No. Maybe just feeling a little lost. I’ve been out of the dating game for over twenty years, you know.” He saw her wince as she said this, but her honesty was endearing. “Not that we’re dating, exactly. I mean, it didn’t start out as a date. I thought. Oh, why don’t I just shut my mouth?” Her colour deepening again, she buried her face in her hands, her elbows thumping on the tabletop.

  Gently taking hold of her wrist, Jason pried one of her hands away, holding it briefly. “Whatever it was, I enjoyed it very much.” Lifting one eyebrow, he slanted her a roguish grin. “The kiss, and the rest of the evening.”

  Releasing a breath, Abby dropped her other hand onto the table, responding with a gentle smile of her own. “Me, too.”

  It was well after midnight when Abby walked Jason to the door, just as the last customer was paying for his drinks.

  “Thank for coming, Jason,” she said. “I hope the food met your expectations.”

  “Are you kidding? Best prime rib I’ve had in ages.”

  “Then you’ll be back?”

  “Definitely, I will.” Jason bent to touch his lips lightly to hers. Aware of the bartender eyeing them from behind the bar, he kept the kiss quick and chaste. He did fully intend to return at some point; she hadn’t asked him when, or prodded him to give her a call. He could leave now and decide later, after judicious consideration, whether to ask her out again. But spending the evening in Abby’s company had left him feeling warm and relaxed, and before he knew what he was doing he let a thoughtless impulse steer him off course once again. “Listen, there’s a charity gala I’ve been roped into next Friday night. How would you like to go with me?”

  She straightened her back, her eyes brightening. “So this would be an official date?”

  “Yes, exactly.” He hadn’t thought of it that way when he asked, but he supposed it was, and cursed himself silently. All he knew was that the idea of walking into the party with Abby Wells on his arm was too appealing to resist.

  “I’d love to,” she said, the pitch of her voice rising with excitement. “Give me a call and we can settle the details.”

  “Thanks again, Abby, for the meal and your company. See you Friday,” he said, as he stepped outside into the late-night darkness.

  Yes, in all fairness it would be best to walk away from her now. Too bad he lacked the will to do it.

  * * *

  Stepping out of her car, Abby smoothed down the long skirt of her indigo taffeta gown with her palms. She’d bought the dress just for this occasion. It was more formal and less provocative than the one she’d worn to her fortieth birthday celebration—which was, in fact, the last lavish party she’d attended.

  Colin had given Abby a number of lovely pieces of jewellery over the years, and she sometimes still wore them, but tonight she’d chosen a simple string of pearls and matching drop earrings inherited from her grand-mother. Deciding to forego her glasses for the evening, she’d bought her first pair of contact lenses in years. And to tame her tangle of curls, she’d piled them atop her head and fastened them with a silver clip.

  Leaving her house, she’d felt a little like Cinderella after her magical makeover, brimming with poise and confidence. But as she crossed the parking lot alone toward the imposing Victorian-style hotel where the gala was being held, a nervous flutter invaded in her belly. During her twenty years with Colin, she’d never felt she fit in at the swanky upper-crust social functions he brought her to. It would hardly have been her choice for the first date she’d been on in over two decades. But here she was, and all she could do was draw a deep breath and search for her Prince Charming.

  Inside, Abby scanned the guests milling about. As a member of the charity committee, Jason had needed to arrive early, and Abby had agreed to meet him in the foyer. She glanced at her watch to make sure she’d arrived on time.

  At last she spotted him, waiting outside the double doors leading to the ballroom. The sight of him incited an exhilarating surge in her pulse, and she couldn’t help the grin that spread across her face. Sporting a crisp black tuxedo, he looked nothing less than incredible, his dark eyes glinting with reflected light from the crystal chandelier overhead.

  As he approached her, Jason’s gaze slid up and down the length of her gown, his brows rising as his mouth tilted into a smile of approval. At once, every moment she’d spent dabbing on makeup and cramming herself into control-top hose seemed well worth the effort.

  “Abby, you look enchanting.” He lifted her hand to press her knuckles to his lips.

  “You look pretty smashing yourself.” Abby felt her temperature notch up a few degrees. “How’s the gala going so far?”

  “All the better, now that you’re here.” Keeping hold of her hand, he tucked it around his elbow, pivoting them both toward the ballroom. “Shall we?”

  As they entered the grand room, Abby gazed up at the ceiling’s carved moldings and then down at the elaborate inlaid wood floor, appreciating the opulence of the room even without the profusion of flowers and ribbons applied for the gala. She recognized a number of people that Colin had socialized with, chatting in small groups with drinks in hand.

  “I don’t know why I’m so
nervous,” she whispered close to Jason’s ear.

  “Don’t be. Underneath the suits and gowns and hairpieces, they’re just ordinary folks who happen to have a lot of money.”

  “I know. But I was never very popular with Colin’s social set. They thought I married him for his money.”

  “You know your own heart. It hardly matters what they think.” Releasing her hand from his arm, he laced his fingers through hers, offering a reassuring squeeze. To Abby’s surprise, he didn’t let go after a moment, keeping her hand clasped firmly in his as they crossed the room. Colin had disapproved of public displays of affection, including hand-holding; she was amazed at the warm and intimate feeling it elicited.

  “Sid and Lorena Bloom are here,” she said, spotting the couple across the room. “Old friends of Colin’s. I haven’t seen them since the funeral.”

  “You’re better off without that pair of intolerable sycophants,” Jason replied sourly.

  “Be nice,” she whispered back, smiling. “They’re here for charity.”

  “They’re here to be seen.”

  Abby laughed quietly, pressing her cheek to his shoulder. Glancing back at the Blooms, she saw them now looking in her direction, and she gave a small wave and a smile. Lorna eyed Abby and Jason narrowly, her gaze flickering down to assess the clasped hands, the quirk of her mouth denoting disapproval even as she returned a tepid smile.

  Glancing around as they moved among the guests, Abby saw a few more startled looks, and a surprising feeling of exhilaration swept through her. Jason was quite right; the opinion of Colin’s friends meant nothing. What mattered was the company of the man who had invited her, and the delightful way the scent of his cologne and the warm tone of his voice stirred her feminine senses. No promises had been made between them, but the mere act of holding her hand in front of the gossip-hungry high society crowd had to mean something.

  “Shall I get us some drinks?” he offered.

  “Please.”

  “I’ll be right back.” Releasing her hand, he headed toward the bar, leaving her by their table.

  She turned to find Lionel Graves beside her. A hotel proprietor, he had been Colin’s golfing partner for many years. “Abby, how nice to see you.”

  She bobbed her head in greeting. “Lionel, it’s been a long time.”

  “Is this your table, too? Delightful, we’ll be dining together. I didn’t know you and Mr. Brinleigh were an item,” he remarked, with a suggestive tilt of his bushy eyebrows.

  “It’s not really like that,” Abby said, flustered as she realized she didn’t really know how to characterize her relationship with Jason. “I mean, it’s very new.”

  “I wondered when you’d get back in the game, Abby. Losing your husband so young, well, you can’t live the rest of your life alone, can you?” He capped off his words of encouragement with a mischievous wink. “Good for you, snagging the town’s most eligible bachelor.”

  “Thank you, Lionel.” She was pleased to have at least one ally among the crowd. Though she told herself she didn’t care what they thought, she couldn’t help wondering whether people were simply surprised to see her and Jason together, or whether it was the age gap between the two—or perhaps between Jason and Colin—that had caused them alarm.

  * * *

  As a waiter whisked away their empty dessert plates, Jason glanced at Abby beside him, sipping the last of her coffee.

  “How did you enjoy the dinner?” he asked.

  “I think that was the best chocolate torte I’ve ever had, but I’m so stuffed, you may have to roll me out of here,” she replied inelegantly.

  “I hope you’re not too full to dance with me.” Now that the speeches were done and the dishes cleared away, a string ensemble had begun setting up their instruments in the corner of the ballroom.

  A feminine smile curved Abby’s lips. “I think I can manage it.”

  She had arrived so nervous, Jason was glad to see her looking more relaxed. He was surprised she wasn’t used to these events, having been married to Colin Bennett for two decades. On the other hand, he didn’t think it was in Abby’s nature to play the social butterfly. One thing was certain: she was getting a lot of attention tonight, if mainly from afar. Any time he stepped away from the table, people stopped him to remark on how lovely she looked—although their compliments were tinged with curiosity as to what she and Jason were doing there together.

  Shortly the musicians picked up their instruments and began to play a leisurely piece. As couples headed to the dance floor, Abby looked at Jason expectantly.

  “Shall we?” he said, rising to pull out her chair.

  “Yes, thank you.”

  Taking her hand, he led her to the dance floor and drew her close to him. Her slender body fit neatly against his, reminding him of the last time he had held her, half-naked in his swimming pool. Though this was quite a different situation, as his hand settled on the smooth fabric at the back of her dress, and her hand came to rest warmly on his shoulder, he found himself wishing everyone else in the room would simply disappear.

  Abby tilted her face up to him, her amber eyes glimmering. “I’ve been meaning to tell you, we’ve already had a report of ghostly activity at the inn. An overnight guest said she heard weeping in her room, and later the sound of footsteps in the hall when no one was there.”

  Jason quirked an eyebrow. “What do you make of that?”

  “I chalk it up to an active imagination, but in any case it’s good for business. People can’t get enough of a good haunting. But the funny thing is, Rebecca’s portrait keeps falling off the wall.”

  “On its own?” He remembered she had hung it in the upstairs hallway, in a carefully chosen spot between two of the guest rooms.

  Abby nodded. “I can’t figure out why. There’s nothing wrong with the hook. But the manager keeps finding it on the floor in the morning.”

  “Perhaps Rebecca doesn’t think it’s a good likeness,” Jason suggested, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

  Abby replied with an appealing wrinkle of her nose. “Stop it. You don’t believe in ghosts, do you?”

  “I like to keep an open mind,” he said, though he wondered whether staff at the inn might be playing a joke on the guests, and Abby as well.

  “She is your ancestor. Perhaps you should spend the night there and see if you can feel her presence.”

  “Perhaps you’d like to join me,” he added, his tone still light, though the words stirred up images from his imagination that were far from innocent.

  “I think I will spend the night there sometime, to see for myself. In my own room, of course.” Her evocative smile sent a warm quiver down his spine.

  “Naturally. I’d never suggest anything untoward.” His hand drifted up to smooth back several wisps of hair that had fallen loose to float about her ear. Lingering for a moment, in an impulsive gesture his fingertips lightly skimmed the curve of her cheek. At once he saw her colour deepen, and felt her arm grip his shoulder a little tighter.

  “I didn’t expect so, being the gentleman that you are,” Abby said, her tone low and tinged with anticipation.

  Cradling her hand against his chest, Jason could feel his heart pounding fast and heavy, and wondered if she could feel its beat through his shirt and jacket. He was beginning to feel too warm, his tie too tight around his neck. His gaze lingered on her delicate, full mouth, painted an enticing deep mauve, the lips slightly parted.

  “And you being a proper lady,” he murmured, bending closer to breathe in her scent in a long, heady breath; as he did his lips grazed her cheek.

  He felt her shiver, and then she turned her face to brush her mouth over his. Needing no further encouragement, he gathered her closer, his lips claiming hers in a soft, slow kiss. As her eyes fell closed, she let her head tilt back, allowing him to explore the soft sweetness of her lips at his leisure. Her uninhibited response in this public venue both surprised and excited him, and as the length of her body pressed clos
er to his, liquid fire surged to his groin.

  The music seemed to stop abruptly, although Jason realized the piece had simply come to its end. As couples broke away from each other to applaud the musicians, Abby followed suit, drawing away from him awkwardly. She glanced around, then up at Jason. Her cheeks were flaming, her lipstick smudged at the corners of her mouth.

  “People are staring,” she whispered.

  Jason saw them, too, slanting stern looks in their direction. Well, he supposed it was a trifle unseemly to make out with one’s dance partner in the middle of a posh gala event.

  “Let them,” he said, dabbing the lipstick smudges from her mouth with his thumb.

  Once the music began again, Abby nestled against his shoulder as they resumed dancing, her posture relaxed and contented. His nerves still pulsing from the kiss, Jason drew air deeply into his lungs, reminding himself that he had a long night ahead before there was any chance of the two of them heading elsewhere to be alone.

  Then his gaze fell on a couple across the floor, dancing close as he and Abby were. As the couple turned, and Jason caught sight of the woman’s face over the man’s shoulder, he felt his heart drop like a stone.

  At first he thought he must be imagining things, his brain superimposing her face onto a stranger who resembled her. But it was her. He knew that sheet of honey-blonde hair and those cat-like green eyes all too well.

  Noticing Jason stiffen, Abby turned her head to follow the direction of his gaze.

  “Who’s that?”

  “Brianna. My ex-fiancée,” he said tightly.

  “Oh.” A frown creased Abby’s brow as she took another quick glance. “Who’s she with?”

  “Stephen Blaine, the pharmaceutical magnate. Looks like she’s hit the jackpot this time.”

  Indeed, Brianna looked ecstatic, her dazzling teeth on full display as she tossed her hair and laughed at some apparently clever quip from her dance partner. Jason’s stomach clenched as he observed her slender arm draped affectionately over Blaine’s shoulder, her gaze locked onto his as though he were the most fascinating man she’d ever known. At one time she had looked at Jason that way, and he’d fallen easily for the guileless adoration in her pretty eyes. Young and idealistic, he’d let her play on his ego to win his devotion, and his implicit trust.