by Sandra Field
‘One of the big neighbouring concerns, who make and bottle huge volumes of both red and white table wine, have bought Santa Rosa’s grapes to blend with their own.
‘They’ll probably do the same this year. But once we’re up and running it will be different.’
‘Will you be in competition?’
He shook his head. ‘Rather than simply producing drinkable table wine, I’d prefer to concentrate on the production of fine wines. It’s more challenging, and, if successful, extremely lucrative.’
‘How soon could you start?’
‘That would depend on the established grape varieties, and on what kind of plant there is. Tomorrow we can take a look at the winery building, if you’re at all interested?’
‘Oh, yes, I am,’ she said eagerly. ‘It sounds absolutely fascinating.’
Stretched side by side on loungers, they talked for a while about wine and the vineyard’s prospects, then gradually fell silent.
It was very late, but, euphoric and enjoying the magic of the night, they continued to sit there.
After a while Gray reached out and, taking her hand, held it, his thumb gently massaging her palm.
She shivered.
It was so romantic that she thought with a strange kind of longing, this could be our honeymoon…
Only of course it wasn’t.
As far as she and Gray were concerned this was a mere holiday fling, a short-term affair with no commitment on either side.
It was Lisa and Jason who were on honeymoon, enjoying a romantic start to their new life together as man and wife.
Sighing, she wondered, what if the fairy godmother she had believed in as a child could wave a magic wand and give her the chance to swop places with Lisa? Would she take it?
No, she wouldn’t.
Looking back, she could see that she had been falling out of love with Jason for a long time without realising it.
Freed from that emotional burden, she could now accept that he belonged in the past, and rejoice because his defection was no longer an ever-present regret lying like a dark shadow on her mind…
As though her thoughts had disturbed him, Gray turned his head to glance at her. ‘You look very pensive,’ he remarked.
‘I was thinking about—’ Suddenly recalling his angry reaction last time she had mentioned Jason, she stopped speaking abruptly, a spot of colour creeping into her cheeks.
His jaw tightened. ‘Jason, presumably?’
Seeing by her expression that he’d hit the nail on the head, his voice curt, he said, ‘You seem to do little else. Did you think about him when we were in bed? Imagine it was him making love to you rather than me?’
‘N-no, of course not,’ she stammered. ‘As a matter of fact, I…’
About to tell him that she no longer loved Jason, she hesitated. If she did, would he think she’d just been pretending all along? That she really had just been after Jason’s money?
He obviously didn’t totally trust her on that score, otherwise he wouldn’t have taunted her about Andrew Scrivener.
And surely it couldn’t matter to him what her feelings for Jason were? He had no interest in her, apart from a sexual one.
Hadn’t he laid it on the line? ‘Neither of us want any new emotional entanglements…’
She took a deep, steadying breath, and went on, ‘As a matter of fact I was just thinking about Lisa and Jason enjoying their honeymoon.’
‘You visualise a romantic one, no doubt?’ Gray enquired sarcastically.
Refusing to be put down, she said quietly, ‘I think honeymoons should be romantic.’
‘Presumably you’ve never been on one.’
‘No.’ Almost to herself, she added, ‘And I probably never will.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Gray said, his fingers tightening around hers. ‘I’m being a brute to you. But I’m not in the mood for such sentimental claptrap.’
‘You’re a cynic,’ she accused.
‘Better a cynic than a romantic.’
‘You really do hate the idea of romance.’
‘I think of it as the old Chinese curse.’
‘What Chinese curse?’
‘May all your dreams come true.’
‘Oh…’
‘Believe me, honeymoons aren’t necessarily either romantic or happy, and it’s my guess that Lisa and Jason are unlikely to be enjoying theirs.’
Withdrawing her hand, Rebecca sat up straighter. ‘What makes you say that?’
‘All the signs indicate that it will very quickly develop into a battleground, so if you’re thinking happy ever after, forget it.’
Shocked, she cried, ‘I don’t know how you can say such a thing!’
‘Because it’s the truth,’ he said wearily.
‘I don’t believe it.’
‘Think,’ he urged her seriously. ‘What kind of woman is Lisa?’
Without waiting for an answer, he went on, ‘Beautiful undoubtedly, charming when she wants to be, but shallow and spoilt, selfish to the core, wilful, scheming and deceitful, wouldn’t you say?’
Rebecca flinched. ‘She may be all of those, but she’s a lot of other things as well. She can be caring and thoughtful—’
But Gray was going on relentlessly, ‘And what kind of man is Jason?’
Again he answered his own question. ‘Handsome undoubtedly, charming when it suits him, but just as shallow and spoilt, as selfish and wilful, as scheming and deceitful as his new wife.
‘Can you really see any hope for them…?’
Battered by words as though they were stones, she just wanted to crawl away.
‘I can’t,’ Gray added. ‘Especially when he discovers how she’s lied to him.’
‘Lied to him?’
‘Then she didn’t tell you?’
‘Tell me what?’
‘That she was pregnant.’
Rebecca’s jaw dropped.
‘No, I can see she didn’t.’ Gray’s voice was grim.
‘I don’t believe it,’ she said flatly.
Her stepsister had once confided that she had no intention of ever having children. That she had taken, and would always take, every precaution to make sure she never became pregnant.
‘You must be mistaken,’ she insisted. ‘Lisa doesn’t like babies. She would have taken care.’
Gray smiled grimly. ‘I don’t doubt it.’
Pulling herself together with an effort, she demanded, ‘Then what makes you think she’s pregnant?’
‘Jason thinks so.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Let’s say I heard it on the grapevine. I guess he must have confided in someone that that was why the wedding was taking place in such a hurry.
‘I feel sure he was right, as far as it goes. But not for the obvious reason, that the blushing bride didn’t want to appear pregnant.’
She frowned. ‘What other reason could there be?’
‘That your dear stepsister didn’t want to chance being found out, and every month that passed increased the risk.’
‘I don’t know what you’re getting at.’
As though speaking to a not-very-bright child, he explained, ‘I don’t believe for a moment that she’s pregnant, and as she and Jason were living together he was bound to discover the truth sooner or later.’
‘But why should she tell him she was pregnant if she wasn’t?’
‘It’s one of the oldest tricks in the book. I’m only surprised Jason fell for it.’
Rebecca shook her head as if to clear it. ‘I can’t see why she would need to lie, when they were going to be married anyway.’
‘I think you’ll find that, having had his fun, he was trying to wriggle out of marrying her. That’s why she, or possibly her mother, came up with the scheme.
‘One thing I don’t understand is why Jason took it so quietly.’
‘Perhaps he was afraid of his uncle getting to know? From what he told me, Philip Lome has always been very straitlaced.’
‘Far from being strait-laced, Lome has got his nephew out of quite a few scrapes in the past,’ Gray said positively. ‘So many in fact that he’d put his foot down and told Jason that if he got into any further trouble, his allowance would be stopped.
‘It’s ironic really that for once in his life Jason took the threat seriously. If he had told his uncle, I’ve no doubt Lome would have helped him.’
‘But what could he have done?’
‘What he’s done in the past when other women who were after Jason’s money tried to trick him into marriage—paid her off.’
Paid her off…
But this time the woman in question was her stepsister. It was her own family Gray was taking about with such critical contempt.
Seeing her stricken face, he said, ‘I’m sorry if that sounds brutal.’
Through a dry throat, she asked, ‘What makes you so sure she was only after his money?’
‘Oh, come on!’
‘Have you ever thought that she might genuinely love him?’
Gray’s white teeth flashed in a mirthless smile. ‘It’s my bet that she loves his money a lot more.’
‘You’re seriously warped,’ Rebecca accused, her voice hoarse. ‘You presumed I only wanted to marry him for his money.’
‘At first, knowing how things stood, it seemed more than likely.’
‘You mean I was part of the clan.’
‘At the time I thought so. Can you blame me?’
‘So to prove that I was just out for all I could get, you offered me a free holiday.’
‘It wasn’t like that at all.’
‘Then why did you ask me to come with you?’
‘Because I wanted your company.’
‘The company of someone whose family you talk about so contemptuously?’
‘You know perfectly well that isn’t how I feel about you.’
‘I don’t know anything of the kind.’
‘What can I say to ease your mind?’
‘You could admit you might be wrong about Lisa.’
‘Do you genuinely believe I am?’ he challenged.
She wanted to say yes, but couldn’t.
‘No, I thought not. At least you’re honest.’
‘That’s a laugh!’ she cried bitterly. ‘I just wish to God I’d had the sense to stay in London.’
‘I’m sorry you feel like that, because—’
The heat of futile anger rising inside her, without waiting to hear any more, she scrambled to her feet and fled.
When she reached their bedroom it was pleasantly cool and dim. At the half-open window the muslin curtains billowed slightly in the night breeze.
Sinking down on the bed, she covered her face with trembling hands. If only she had never agreed to come to California, never been stupid enough to let herself be drawn into this ill-judged affair…
It would have been bad enough if they had been merely holiday companions. Being lovers made things so much worse.
But she didn’t have to sleep with him. He had offered her a room of her own, so she would have one and take care to keep her distance.
She rose to her feet and switched on the light. Then, opening her wardrobe, she began to bundle her things together.
‘Leave them,’ Gray said.
Turning her head, she saw he was standing in the doorway, watching her. His dark face serious, he added, ‘I’ll move out, if you want me to.’
‘Yes, I do.’ Close to tears, she hurried into the bathroom and bolted the door behind her.
When she emerged some ten minutes later the room was empty and his clothes had gone.
After tossing and turning until the early hours of the morning, she finally dropped off to sleep, but it was a restless sleep that brought unhappy dreams, and she awoke with tears on her cheeks.
The room was full of light and heat, and there wasn’t a breath of air. The curtains hung limply at the windows, while reflected sunbeams shimmered on the white ceiling.
For a moment or two she couldn’t think where she was, then it all came flooding back. The drive to Napa, their arrival at Santa Rosa, Gray so unexpectedly acting the fool, his ardent lovemaking, the shared meal and, just when everything seemed so wonderful and romantic, their quarrel.
If it could be called a quarrel.
Rather, it had been understanding, for the first time, how Gray really felt. She had been shocked and saddened by the way he had sneered at romance, and his obvious contempt for her family.
But if it was true that Lisa had lied to get Jason to marry her, and she felt oddly sure that it was, perhaps she couldn’t blame him for thinking so badly of them all.
And no matter what he said about not including her, he must firmly believe they were all tarred with the same brush. It was obvious that he hadn’t invited her because he liked her, or for her company, as he’d said, but simply to fulfil a sexual need.
With a heavy heart she wished yet again that she hadn’t been foolish enough to get involved with him.
However, she had, and now it was too late. She was stuck here with no means of getting back, which meant a fortnight spent in his company.
Shuddering at the thought, she wondered just how bad it would be. But that, of course, would depend on his reaction to what had happened. She still didn’t know him well enough to be able to predict which way he’d jump.
Would he sulk? Be angry and vindictive? Try to get her to change her mind about sleeping with him, and make her life a misery when she didn’t? Or would he be cold and distant?
The latter would be by far the easiest to cope with, and she could only hope he’d play it like that. If he was prepared to go his own way and let her go hers, they needn’t see too much of each other.
On the other hand, if he chose to be really difficult and obnoxious, he could make the coming two weeks unbearable.
Pushing the far from pleasant thought away, she looked at her watch. It was almost lunchtime. He was bound to be up by now. So what should she do?
Common sense told her there was little choice. She couldn’t stay in her room indefinitely, so she might as well go out and face him, see what kind of devil she had to cope with.
Just the previous day her heart would have leapt at the thought of seeing him, but now it lay unmoved. It seemed that the powerful sexual attraction she’d felt was over as quickly as it had begun.
When she had showered, deciding it was too hot to wear a bra, she pulled on a pair of briefs and a loose cotton shift that tied on the shoulders. Then, fastening her hair into a single thick plait, she took a deep breath and followed the aroma of fresh coffee through to the kitchen.
Looking fresh and vital in stone-coloured jeans and a dark blue T-shirt, a tea towel draped around his lean hips, Gray was standing at one of the work surfaces, breaking eggs into a bowl and beating them.
His manner was relaxed, almost laid-back, and no horns were visible.
Glancing up at her approach, he said equably, ‘Good morning. I hope you slept well?’
Taken aback by his friendly tone, it was a moment or two before she lied, ‘Very well, thank you.’
Pouring the eggs into a pan and beginning to draw them into the centre, he told her, ‘I was just about to give you a call. I thought we might have lunch by the pool. Omelette and salad suit you?’
So he’d decided to act as though nothing had happened. It was the one thing she hadn’t thought of, but, willing to follow his lead and keep things on a civil footing, she answered politely, ‘Yes, fine, thank you.’
‘I do like a woman who’s easy to please.’
If there was a double entendre there she let it go. Adding the large, golden omelette to a trolley containing a green salad, a crusty loaf, some smooth curls of butter, a bowl of oranges and a pot of coffee, he whipped off the tea towel and invited, ‘Lead on, MacFerris.’
Without thinking, she asked, ‘Shouldn’t that be “Lay on"?’
Striking an attitude, he declaimed, ‘Methinks that S
hakespeare is oft misquoted.’
Only the previous day she would have laughed. As it was, his clowning failed to amuse her, and, barely managing a smile, she led the way out to the pool.
It was a lovely morning, the sun high over the eastern rim of the valley, and the bees busy amongst the flowers.
They sat in the shade of a fringed umbrella and ate in what might, to an onlooker, have been mistaken for a comfortable silence.
In truth it was an uncomfortable one, on Rebecca’s side at least, and she tried hard to think of something to say.
But, inhibited by the knowledge of how he felt about her, she could think of nothing. All the pleasure had gone out of being with him, and she would much sooner have been left alone.
She was aware that Gray looked at her from time to time, as though trying to correctly judge what her mood was, but, apparently wary of putting a foot wrong, he let the silence reign.
After a while, relaxing her guard a little, she found her gaze straying in his direction. He was peeling an orange, the rind sliding in an unbroken coil through his lean brown hands.
As he pulled the flesh into segments he glanced up and, seeing she was watching him, offered her a piece.
She shook her head mutely and looked away.
When they had done eating and finished drinking their second cup of coffee, he suggested casually, ‘I thought we might take a look at the winery, if you’re still interested?’
She toyed briefly with the idea of refusing, of quietly making it clear that she no longer wanted his company. But it might mean the onset of fresh hostilities, and she didn’t want to risk that.
‘Yes…Yes, I am,’ she said at last.
‘But you were thinking of saying no?’
She met his enquiring glance with a guilty one of her own.
‘There’s no need to answer, I can see you were.
‘Look, I’m sorry you were so upset last night. It must have been very unpleasant to hear your family criticised in that way.
‘But if you want me to retract what I said about your stepsister, I’m afraid I can’t. I believe it’s the truth, and I’m sure you do.
‘I’m convinced that both she and her mother are quite unscrupulous and will use any dirty trick in the book to get what they want.
‘That doesn’t mean I think you are like that. In fact I’m certain you’re not. I firmly believe that you’ve been the innocent victim in all this.