ReWined Vol I ~ Kim Karr

by Karr, Kim

My mouth was watering with anticipation, as if I was the one about to have the most scrumptious dessert known to man.

  Then again, perhaps, being dessert was far better than eating it because when he lowered his head and took his first swipe with his lethal tongue, there was nothing, absolutely nothing I wanted more than him.

  Him.

  Just him.

  Paris

  I SMOOTHED MY hand over the typed contract.

  It was six in the morning and Tyler had already left to head back up north. I never got to this last night, so he woke me this morning and told me to read it and bring the signed document to his office at nine.

  After taking a sip of the hot chocolate he’d made for me before he left, I lifted the stapled papers from my lap.

  Sucking in a deep breath, I started to read the provisions. This was a big deal. I was in charge of Highway 128 and I wanted to do what was best for the company.

  Merging with California Jane was for the best. Without it, we would have to close the doors before the month’s end. Going after Vince Gable was a long shot. And having Tyler in my life again seemed right.

  So what was my problem?

  I set my cup down and peeled back the cover page to read the details of the merger. Everything made sense. The details more than amenable. We’d continue to operate under our own names but share the resources the other company found scarce for the upcoming bottling season.

  In November, we would then look at the financials and make operating decisions based on performance.

  Operating decisions.

  It was spelled out, of course.

  Seize and desist the brand name underperforming.

  Okay, he didn’t say turn Highway 128 into California Jane. That was a good thing. Highway 128 could outperform California Jane in the summer wine fest and then he’d have to agree to keep it.

  I was reading the final pages when my cell phone rang. Henri’s name lit up my screen. Crap, I’d almost forgotten about him.

  “Hello,” I said.

  “Paris. There you are.”

  Odd, but yes, here I was. “Hello, Henri. How are you?”

  “I’m at your house. Where are you? I need to see you.”

  Tension tore through my body and I quickly glanced down. My eyes widening as I battled between disbelief and anger. The item stating Tyler and I would marry before January 31st of this year and that I would take his name. How dare he assume either of those things and put them in a contract.

  “Paris,” Henri shouted. “Are you listening to me?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “What’s going on?”

  “Fabian and I are back together, but he insists that if I don’t tell my parents about him by the end of the week, he won’t stay with me.”

  I sighed, knowing that would mean he’d be disinherited, which wasn’t what he wanted. “I’m sorry, Henri.”

  “No, you don’t understand.”

  The contract spelled out that I would stay married to him for no less than ten years and bear him three children or else I’d lose my decision-making power in the company.

  What the hell?

  I crossed that out and kept reading, crossing out line after line and writing side comments beside each one.

  “No.”

  “Never.”

  “Over my dead body.”

  In short, if I signed this, I was conceding all power to him. There were also requirements that I make myself available to him. Crossed that out. That I travel with him. Crossed that out. That I sleep in the same bed as him. Like that had to be a requirement? What wasn’t written was that I fuck him at his whim but it was there, between the lines. Like I hadn’t wanted to anyway?

  My blood was boiling as I continued to pen the contract.

  “Did you hear me, Paris?” Henri said.

  I slammed the contract down. How dare he? “Sorry, Henri, the line is staticky, can you say that again?”

  “We need to get married today and fly to France tonight, so I can tell my parents with my wife by my side.”

  Of course, I was his shield. His veil to the world. The only cover-up his parents would accept. “I can’t do that, Henri. Not now. Highway 128 is in deep financial trouble and I have to fix it.”

  So, I didn’t tell him how I was going to fix things. I knew that even though we weren’t really in love over the past year, if he found out about Tyler, he’d be hurt.

  “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. Fabian told me Tyler Holiday called him.”

  My spine straightened. “What? Why?”

  “To tell him what he saw at the club that night.”

  Anger rolled in hot waves from my body. “Tyler did that? Are you sure?”

  “Yes, I’m sure. He’s the one who told Fabian, and he did it to get me out of the picture, darling.”

  Darling.

  Not love.

  I didn’t like the sound of it.

  Manipulation was a hard seed to swallow. Tyler wanted to break Henri and me apart to make way for him.

  This was all a plan.

  His deception.

  Bitterness crawled into my chest as if my heart was its target.

  “Listen, Paris, I’ve spoken to my parents about your company, and they have assured me that once we’re married, they would be more than happy to consider taking Highway 128 under their wing.”

  I stared at the contract on the table. “What does that mean?”

  He cleared his throat. Uncertain. “If they think it’s viable, Highway 128 will become a label under our brand.”

  “Your brand?”

  “Yes, but I’m certain the company will give you complete autonomy to run your business as you see fit. And most importantly, your winery will be saved.”

  It wasn’t ideal, but what other choice did I have? I couldn’t work with Tyler.

  Couldn’t be with him.

  He really hadn’t changed.

  Still untrusting.

  Still emotionally void.

  Still the same old him.

  And this proved it.

  I clutched the shirt of his I was wearing tighter around me and tried to stop my lips from quivering. When I couldn’t, I tore the contract in half. “Yes, Henri, I’ll do it,” I said. “I’ll be home soon. Wait for me.”

  Looked like marriage bells would be ringing after all.

  Just not the ones Tyler Holiday had planned.

  Tyler

  I SAT AT the table with the Board surrounding me.

  Glancing at my watch, I gritted my teeth. Where the fuck was she? And where the fuck was Wilhelmina?

  Just as the clock struck nine, the conference room door opened. It was a messenger. “Delivery for Mr. Tyler Holiday.”

  I waved him off. “We’re in a meeting. It can wait.”

  The douche ignored me. “The woman who hired me insisted I give you this and these, in person.” He handed me an envelope and the keys to the Rover.

  I didn’t like the feeling that slinked down my spine as I took both items and set them down. The members of the Board stared at me. “Just a few more minutes,” I assured them.

  Wilhelmina came trotting in before the messenger stepped over the threshold to leave. She didn’t even notice him, she looked that frazzled. It was so unlike her. “Tyler, I have to talk to you.”

  I waved her off, too.

  She indicated I should meet her out in the hall. “It’s important.”

  Pissed at the disruption, I still got to my feet. “Gentleman, give me a moment, please?”

  They nodded and muttered under their breath. This was not going well. I was not making a good first impression.

  Fuck me.

  Out in the hall, I scowled. “What the hell is going on?”

  Wilhelmina placed a hand on my shoulder. “Paris is not coming. She’s marrying Henri.”

  Annoyance bit through my tone. I don’t know why I’d even told her anything at all. “No, she’s not.”

  Wilhelmina squeezed my shoulde
r. “Yes, Tyler, she is. It was just announced that they’re getting married today at St. Helena Town Hall and that Highway 128 will more than likely become a label under his family’s brand.”

  I arched a questioning eyebrow. “Where did you hear this?”

  “It’s all over the news, Tyler.”

  Disbelief washed through me as the floor crumbled beneath me. “Gossip?”

  She shook her head.

  What the fuck?

  Why?

  The contract?

  Please, it wasn’t like the word negotiation wasn’t part of the strategy.

  No, she’d done what she always did. Run. Taken the safest way out, and she had the nerve to call me a coward. This time, though, it was supposed to be different. We were grown-up. She was supposed to fight the fight with me. Beside me. Together we were going to tip the scales and even the score. Put to rest the family feud by making things right.

  Her and me. Together.

  She.

  Was.

  The.

  One.

  The one I hadn’t believed in.

  How dare she do this!

  Through a mist of red anger, I stepped out of my step-grandmother’s reach and tore open the envelope that I’d brought along for kicks and giggles.

  The contract slid out in two pieces, torn in half.

  Just like my heart.

  Wilhelmina broke me out of my stupor. “Are you just going to stand here like an idiot, Tyler?”

  Fuck that.

  No.

  I.

  Fucking.

  Wasn’t.

  I wasn’t losing her again.

  Paris

  I SLIPPED ON the white dress Henri had bought for me.

  Some designer number his mother would recognize and the world would ooh and ahh about.

  It wasn’t me.

  I looked at myself again. The smile I plastered on my face felt frozen. Then again, it was pretty damn hard to smile when you were marrying a man who was in love with another man, just to save your business.

  What was I doing?

  Getting married. Right.

  But I had nothing borrowed.

  Nothing blue.

  And no one to give me away.

  The town hall required a marriage license and we had been waiting almost two hours to get the signature.

  I would have had time to gather what I could.

  I hadn’t.

  Instead, I’d flopped in this chair in the woman’s room outside of the ceremony room and waited. I was tired and achy and sore.

  Tired from staying up too late with Tyler.

  Achy from the great sex with Tyler.

  Sore from Tyler’s hands being all over my body.

  Tyler.

  Tyler.

  Tyler.

  My head was full of Tyler Holiday.

  I sighed and pressed back the tears that threatened to fall. He had been trouble and he was trouble.

  Trouble.

  Nothing but trouble.

  I knew that all too well. This was for the best. There were no feelings involved in my relationship with Henri.

  He was safe.

  He was not trouble.

  I could not be disappointed and I could disappoint.

  Safe.

  My eyes drifted to my cell in front of me. I stared at it, surprised Tyler hadn’t called. Surprised he hadn’t tried to find me. Surprised he hadn’t tried to stop me.

  Surprised. Angry. And maybe a bit disappointed.

  Then again, it wouldn’t be anything new.

  Yes, Henri was safe.

  But had I acted without thinking everything through with Tyler?

  No, this was the right decision.

  Fresh anger surged in my blood when I thought about how I’d almost trusted him again.

  Almost let my guard down.

  Almost let him back in.

  Almost, that was a lie, though, wasn’t it?

  I had.

  Damn me.

  I had.

  Tears threatened to spill. I had to put him out of my mind. I had a business to save, and Henri was how I would save it.

  End. Of. Story.

  As far as I was concerned, Tyler Holiday was my past.

  Not my future.

  There was a soft knock on the door. “Paris, it’s time.” It was Henri. The man who was to be my husband.

  All of a sudden, I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

  “Paris, darling?”

  I broke out in a cold sweat. “Give me a few minutes.”

  “No problem, darling.”

  Henri.

  So accommodating.

  I took calming breaths. In and out. In and out. I got this. I could do this.

  Getting to my feet, I worried my knees were going to give out when I stepped, so I grabbed the counter and carefully walked to the mirror. Grabbing my bag, I rummaged through it. Using powder and lip gloss, I tried to touch myself up, but my lips still tingled from Tyler’s kisses and my cheeks were still flushed from his sexy stubble.

  Giving up the effort, I fastened my ridiculous designer heels around my ankles and strode toward the door.

  Showtime.

  Henri was waiting for me in the drab corridor. Plastic chairs were placed haphazardly here and there and the smell of Pine-Sol filled the air.

  “Ready?” he asked, offering his arm.

  I nodded, the lump in my throat growing so big I could barely breathe. Once again, I took deep, calming breaths.

  I got this.

  We walked quickly down the short corridor and into the ceremony room that looked more like a space where a wake might take place. It wasn’t long before the officiant rose to his feet and strode around his desk. “Next,” he called.

  Henri and I walked up to where he was standing, and I swore I could feel my pulse beating all the way across the room. I wanted to run. Hide. But I wouldn’t. Couldn’t.

  I got this.

  The officiant cleared his throat. “Do you, Henry?”

  “It’s Henri,” I corrected.

  He stared at me.

  “The last letter is an i, and it’s a long vowel.”

  He nodded. “Okay, let’s try this again. “Do you Henry?”

  I gave up.

  “Take, Paris to be your lawfully wedded wife for now and forevermore?”

  Henri looked at me. “I do.”

  The officiant turned toward me. “And do you, Paris.”

  I stopped him. “It’s Paris Elizabeth Hollis Fairchild.”

  “Formalities aren’t necessary,” he muttered.

  I nodded.

  Let’s try this again. “Do you, Paris, take, Henry to be your lawfully wedded husband for now and forevermore?”

  I said nothing.

  I didn’t have this.

  Both he and Henri stared at me. When I still said nothing, the officiant looked at his watch and went on anyway. “Does anyone here object to the union of these two people?”

  “I do.” The voice was deep, dark, sexy. I didn’t have to turn around to know it was Tyler, but I did. He was striding down the aisle like a force to be reckoned with, wearing a suit that had to have been custom-made for his body.

  He was a live wire.

  Electric.

  All clenched jaw and determined eyes and beautiful hair.

  My silly heart started to beat like a bird freed from its cage—wild and free and out of control.

  Those blue eyes burned with blazing heat and his intentions were written over every inch of his tightly coiled body.

  Stopping in front of me, he looked at Henri. “Sorry about this, man, but there’s no way I’m letting you marry her. She’s mine.”

  I’m not going to lie—a felt a thrill for about two seconds. Then I realized he was going to ruin everything.

  How dare he?

  My mouth opened to tell him to get lost, but before I could say a word, he picked me up and slung me across his shoulder, sauntering confidently toward t
he door.

  My hair was in my face and the layers of ruffles on my dress were practically around my waist. “Put me down.”

  Turning his head, he bit the place where the soft flesh of my ass would be, under all this satin and lace, in warning.

  “Ouch,” I screamed.

  “Quiet,” he warned.

  I’d do no such thing. “Oh, God.”

  Okay, so I did lower my tone.

  “That’s not the first time you’ve called me by my name today,” he rasped.

  I rolled my eyes. “You really are full of yourself, Tyler Holiday. I really hate you.”

  “That’s not hate your feeling,” he whispered.

  And I feared he was right.

  Out in the corridor, he set me down and stared into my eyes. “What I’m doing is stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life.”

  I put my hands on my hips. “Henri is not a mistake. It’s what’s best for Highway 128,” I scowled. “And in case you hadn’t noticed, I was in the middle of a wedding and I’m returning to it right now,” I told him and turned to stomp away.

  His fingers wrapped firmly around my upper arms. “You aren’t going anywhere until you listen to me.”

  I wrestled myself out of his grasp. “Here’s the thing, Tyler, I don’t care what you have to say. It doesn’t matter. Nothing about you has changed.”

  The look in his eyes was a mixture of regret and challenge. “That’s not true, Paris, but I didn’t think I could ever convince you of that, so I had to go at this a different way.”

  “A different way?” I snapped. “A different way. Like manipulation?”

  He shook his head. “Here’s the thing, I don’t care what you call me. I don’t even care if you hate me. Just as long as you know you’re mine. And trust me when I tell you, this time I’m not letting you go. You’ll thank me for this later, I promise you. But for now, we have some things to work out.”

  I scrunched my nose. “Work out?”

  “Yes, Paris. Work out. What’s a little compromise when we have forever?”

  I pointed my finger at him and jabbed each word. “You. Told. Fabian. About. Henri. I can’t trust you.”

  His head kicked back and roared with laughter. “It was the fucking truth, Paris, so why does it matter how he found out?”

  Anger flamed and spiked through my veins. “This isn’t funny.”

  “Think about it, Paris. It is. You can’t trust me because your fiancé was cheating and his lover found out?”