Playing by Heart: Summer Beach Vets, #3

by H. Y. Hanna

  They lingered after lunch, sipping their coffees and letting the food go down. Pippa looked out at the view of the rolling vineyards around them and sighed in contentment. She couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so happy—and she knew that a lot of it was to do with the man sitting next to her. She glanced at him from under her lashes, thinking that she would be sad when the day trip ended.

  As if reading her mind, Matt quirked an eyebrow and said, “The day isn’t over yet, you know. I hope you’re ready for some wine-tasting.”

  CHAPTER 10

  This time when they got into the Range Rover, Matt drove directly to the PEARSON ESTATE vineyard and winery. Pippa looked out of the window in admiration as they entered a beautiful property, bound on one side by a stream and on the other by a tall grove of olive trees. A colonial-style building sat in the centre, with 360-degree views of the surrounding hills and groves.

  “This is the Cellar Door,” said Matt as they drove up to the building. “You can taste all the different wines that the vineyard produces here.”

  “How big is it?” asked Pippa, looking around as they got out of the car.

  “About sixteen acres of working vineyard,” said Matt. “Planted mostly in Semillon, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Sauvignon. But we’re also a completely self-contained winery which manages all the aspects of wine-making, from growing and harvesting the grapes to creating our own range of boutique wines and varietals.”

  Pippa followed Matt into the Tasting Room and was greeted by a kindly man called Ned who looked like Ruskin’s twin brother. He led them across the room, past large windows offering sweeping views across the Valley, and up to the bar counter, where several bottles of wine were lined up in a row. For the next half an hour, Pippa enjoyed playing the tourist and listening to Ned as he told her the history of the Valley and guided her in tasting the different wines.

  “Now, Semillon is what put the Hunter Valley on the world map,” said Ned as he poured a small measure of wine into a sparkling glass. “In fact, nobody else can replicate the style of Semillon we make here—it’s Australia’s unique white wine, based on our climate and soils. It has a wonderfully crisp, citrus aroma when it is young—and then develops complex vanilla and honey flavours as it ages, giving it depth and richness. Here, try this...” He pushed the glass of white wine across to her. “This is from last year’s Semillon harvest so it’s still young, but the fruit ripeness and acidity gives it a flavoursome finish. What do you think?”

  Pippa sipped it. He was right. She didn’t normally like dry white wines but this one was crisp and refreshing without being sharp on the tongue. She swallowed and smiled. “It’s lovely—especially after that huge lunch I just had!”

  Ned took her through a few more wines, from a Shiraz that was “medium bodied with soft tannins” to a golden Chardonnay that was “rich in the aromas of peach and nectarine”, with what Ned called a finish that was “tight, long, and clean”, and last but not least, a sweet Moscato dessert wine that was Pippa’s favourite. It tasted wonderfully of caramel, dates, and raisins, and even hints of citrus peel—almost like a liquid Christmas pudding.

  Pippa didn’t really understand half of what Ned said as he talked enthusiastically about the “finish” and “palate” and “nose” and “body” of the wines but she enjoyed just listening to him and tasting each one, trying to see if her own nose could detect the fragrances and flavours he suggested.

  Matt leaned on the counter next to them with a smile in his warm brown eyes, occasionally adding a comment, but mostly just watching as Pippa tasted the wines and Ned talked. Finally, when Ned seemed to be ready to launch into a detailed account of the history of Australian wine-making, he stepped in and rescued Pippa.

  “I’m afraid we’d better be making tracks,” he said, as he put a gentle hand under Pippa’s elbow. “I think a certain kitten might be giving me a loud mouthful if I don’t get you back home soon.”

  “Oh gosh, Sparky! I’d forgotten all about her,” said Pippa guiltily. She knew that cats were very independent but she had left the little tabby alone for several hours now and it was definitely time to get back.

  After thanking Ned and promising to return for more tastings, Pippa was given a lightning-tour of the rest of the winery buildings.

  “I’m sorry there isn’t really time to take you around the estate and see the vineyard properly,” said Matt as they stood on the side veranda, looking out across the property. “The horse-riding took up more of the day than I expected.”

  “And my six-course lunch,” said Pippa with a laugh.

  Matt grinned. “You said it, not me.” He stepped closer. “But we can always see it next time.”

  Next time? Will there be a next time? Pippa stared up into his dark brown eyes, wishing she could read his expression better. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her temple again, the tender gesture bringing a shiver of goosebumps across Pippa’s skin. She felt his fingers trail down the side of her jaw, until they reached her chin where they gently tipped her face up.

  “So beautiful...” he murmured, his gaze roving over her face and lowering to her mouth.

  Then Matt bent his head and Pippa closed her eyes. His lips were soft and warm, coaxing her to kiss him back. She sighed and slid her arms up around his neck, letting him pull her close, feeling his warm, hard body press against hers. He smelled of earth and horses and the honeyed scent of grape vines, mingled with a clean, masculine scent. She felt the muscles of his shoulders bunch beneath her hands as he shifted position, moulding her closer to his body and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.

  The taste of his lips was more intoxicating than all the wines she had drunk, filling her senses and sending her emotions spinning out of control. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Pippa could hear a voice—a voice that warned she was falling too hard, too fast—but she barely listened to it. All she could think about was Matt and this kiss which she never wanted to end.

  It was the sound of thunder that finally broke them apart. Just a faint rumble in the distance but distinct and unmistakable.

  “Looks like we’re in for more rain again,” said Matt as he released her. “We’d better head back.”

  Pippa followed him quietly to the Range Rover and they drove back in a comfortable silence. By the time they pulled up outside her house, it was raining again.

  “We were really lucky the rain held off all day,” said Matt.

  “Yes, it was a perfect day,” said Pippa with a small sigh.

  He looked at her and seemed about to say something, then changed his mind.

  “Thank you—I had a really wonderful time,” said Pippa. She hesitated, then leaned quickly across and kissed him on the cheek before opening the car door and running through the rain to her front door.

  She was greeted with an indignant “Mew!” as soon as she entered the house. Sparky trotted up and wound herself in and out of Pippa’s legs, loudly demanding to know where she had been all day. Pippa laughed and scooped the little kitten up, cuddling her close to her face. Instantly, she could hear Sparky start to purr, rumbling away like a little engine. Going into the kitchen, she checked the kitten’s food and water bowls, groaning as she stooped and squatted—her muscles were really starting to seize up now.

  A hot bath—that’s what I need, Pippa thought. She poured herself a long, cold glass of water and took it to the bathroom. With Sparky sitting on the edge of the sink and watching curiously, she undressed and turned on the taps in the bathtub. While the bath was filling, she washed her hands thoroughly, then used make-up remover to cleanse all traces of make-up, grime, and sunscreen from her face.

  She remembered looking in the same mirror that morning—how long ago that seemed now!—and how flushed her cheeks had been. They were red again now, although this time it was probably more from a day of being out in the sunshine. She was glad now that she had applied so much sunscreen—after living in the U.K. for so long, it was easy to forget ju
st how lethal the sun was Down Under. Even with the sunscreen, the tan had intensified on her arms and shoulder and she could see pale strap marks from her top.

  Pippa turned off the taps in the bathtub, added a couple of drops of baby oil, and then carefully dipped one toe into the water. It was hot but not scalding. Slowly, she eased her body into the warm water, immersing herself up to her chin.

  Ooooohhhh...

  The heat from the water seeped into her aching muscles, soothing them and easing them as she relaxed against the side of the tub, resting her head on the edge. She closed her eyes and breathed in the steam, her thoughts drifting back to the day... and that kiss...

  Pippa sighed. It was too late. She could deny it as much as she liked, but it didn’t change the truth. She was falling in love with Matt. But did he return her feelings? Pippa stirred uneasily in the water, splashing some drops onto her face. She frowned as Charlie’s words came back to her. What if Matt was just having a bit of fun? What if this really was just a rebound fling for him?

  CHAPTER 11

  Pippa groaned as she tried to get out of bed on Tuesday morning. It was two days now after her riding experience in the Hunter Valley but she still felt like she had gone three rounds with a sumo wrestler. In fact, she felt worse today, her muscles even stiffer and more achy. Her backside felt like it would never be the same again. She had read something somewhere once about lactic acid building up in muscles... or wasn’t that a myth that had been disproved? Maybe it was just a sign that she was terribly unfit and needed to do more exercise, she reflected with a wry smile.

  Pippa staggered out of bed and into the shower. Ten minutes of standing under jets of hot water later, she felt slightly better. As she came out, drying her hair, she suddenly remembered that she was supposed to meet Sara in town this morning. She had met up with Sara and Charlie for a quick coffee last week and the American girl had mentioned that she might be able to help with job opportunities at the nearby Summer Beach Resort. The resort was about to open soon and their HR department was actively recruiting. There wouldn’t be any teaching positions, but Pippa was getting to the point now where she felt like she needed to explore other options seriously, so she had gladly taken Sara up on her offer.

  So she had a meeting with the HR Manager at the resort this morning and since Sara was going in late today, she had offered to give Pippa a lift. This was a lucky break as Pippa didn’t have a car yet. She had been planning to buy one but with the uncertainty over whether she would be able to remain in Summer Beach, she’d decided to wait. If she ended up having to relocate to Sydney, she could easily use the great public transport options in the big city and save on the expense of having a car.

  Again, the thought of having to move to Sydney made Pippa’s heart sink. But she didn’t have time to dwell on it now. She rushed to get changed and grab a quick breakfast—she didn’t want to keep Sara waiting. Half an hour later, she ran out of the house dressed in a softly ruffled coral blouse and black A-line skirt, matched with black pumps. Her hair had been brushed until smooth and her eyes highlighted with mascara. She hoped she looked cool and professional.

  Luckily, Beach Road ran straight into the centre of town so Pippa didn’t have to worry about finding her way. She found the walking quite a strain though. Her muscles were still so stiff—she felt like she was walking like a bow-legged cowboy and her right leg, in particular, was sore, making her limp slightly.

  “Got a gimpy leg?”

  She turned to see an old man leaning over the fence of the house next to her. He was built like a steamroller, his massive arms and thick torso still impressive despite his age. His brown skin was covered with tribal tattoos and his curly hair was shockingly white around his face, matching his toothy white smile. His eyebrows were dark, though, and they framed brown eyes twinkling with humour. He was standing underneath a giant frangipani tree which spread its branches out over the side of the road, its leaves full of delicate yellow and white blossoms.

  “G’day.” He nodded his head.

  Pippa laughed. “I haven’t heard someone say that to me in a long time.”

  He raised those black eyebrows. “Are you not Aussie?”

  “Yeah, I am, but I’ve been O.S. in London actually. And most people don’t say ‘G’day’ there.”

  “What do the Poms say then?”

  Pippa tilted her head and laughed again. “Probably something about the weather. The English really are obsessed with the weather. They talk about it all the time.” She looked at the sunshine and blue skies above them. “Still, after living there, I do understand better why they love the sunshine so much. They’ve got really long, dark winters.” She looked at him curiously. “Are you Aussie too?”

  “My people are from Samoa,” he said, his smile widening. “But yeah, I’m a true-blue Aussie. Born here, like you. I’m Ru.”

  “Pippa.” Pippa returned his smile.

  He gestured to her leg. “You hurt?”

  “I went horse-riding last weekend,” said Pippa with a rueful smile, rubbing her right thigh. “I haven’t been riding in a long time and my muscles aren’t used to it. Also, my horse bolted and I got smacked against a fence. I think I’m developing a whopping bruise on this leg.”

  “Wait here...” he said, turning to head back into his house. A minute later, he was back holding a small bag made of woven palm leaves. From the inside, he extracted a small wooden jar covered in intricate carvings. Carefully, he lifted the lid of the jar and held it out to her. “Put some of this on your leg.”

  Pippa reached out doubtfully and dipped a finger in the ointment, then spread it along her right thigh, rubbing it in. It had a strong, minty smell and her skin instantly began tingling, then a soothing warmth spread through her thigh muscles. Maybe it was all in her mind but her leg felt better already. She looked at the wooden jar in appreciation. It must be some kind of traditional Samoan herbal ointment, probably handed down for generations. She wondered if it was possible to buy some.

  “Wow,” she said. “This stuff is good. Is it made of special herbs from Samoa or something?”

  He guffawed. “Nah, mate. It’s Deep Heat Rub. Buy it at the pharmacy.”

  “Oh.” Pippa grinned sheepishly. “When I saw it in that traditional wooden jar...”

  He winked at her. “Appearances can be deceptive, eh? That’s a lesson I learned long ago.” He held the jar up. “Broke the container it came in so I put it in this jar. Use it a lot for my back. Looks nicer in this bag next to my bed, eh?” He flashed that toothy grin again.

  Pippa nodded in agreement, then glanced at her watch. “Oh gosh, I’ve got to go. Sorry—I’m going to be late for a meeting otherwise. Thank you so much for this—”

  “No worries.” He nodded placidly. “I’ll see you around.”

  She left Ru still leaning against the fence, gazing serenely into the distance, and hurried on into town. She found Sara waiting impatiently outside the post office.

  “Sorry! Sorry I’m late—”

  “My God, Pippa, you smell like a hospital.” Sara wrinkled her nose.

  “Is it that strong?” Pippa asked worriedly. She hadn’t really been thinking just now when Ru offered her the ointment. Now she wondered if the smell was going to be overwhelming in her interview.

  “Well, why don’t we just keep the windows open in the car?” Sara said with a grin.

  The drive up to Summer Beach Resort was beautiful, following the winding coastal road, with the shimmering blue sea on one side and the rugged coastal scenery on the other. But Pippa found it hard to keep her mind on the landscape—she was too busy worrying about the upcoming interview. With most other avenues exhausted, this seemed like her last hope of finding a decent job locally. The resort was a big organisation with a lot of growth planned, Sara had said, so hopefully there would be a suitable opening for her.

  When they pulled into the resort grounds and swept around the impressive circular driveway, Pippa was relieved to notice that t
he smell from the Deep Heat Rub seemed to be dissipating. She got out of the car and straightened her outfit, then followed Sara into the resort lobby. With the grand opening only a few weeks away, it was a hive of activity in there with many people rushing around, helping to put the finishing touches to the interior. They walked through to the rear of the lobby which led out onto beautiful sunny courtyards. Sara showed her where the courtyards flowed into the surrounding landscaped bush park, which contained the boutique guest bungalows, and then turned and led her to a side wing of the main resort buildings. This was where many of the offices and internal departments were housed.

  “Don’t worry, it’s just a friendly chat—not really an interview—and Bev’s really nice,” Sara assured Pippa as she showed her to a small conference room. “I’ll be over at my desk when you finish—just come and find me. And if you don’t mind hanging around the resort for a while, we might be able to grab lunch with my cousin, Ellie, before you get the shuttle back into town. Ellie’s the PR Manager here,” she explained with a smile. “She was the reason I came out to visit Australia originally. You’ll like her.”

  Pippa sat down nervously at the conference table as the door shut behind Sara. The room was decorated in warm, earth tones, and had a view of the courtyards, shaded by wooden venetian blinds. The whole resort had a very calm, classy feel—glamorous and exclusive but subtle and understated at the same time. Pippa was just about to get up and go to the windows for a closer look when the door opened and a pleasant-faced woman stepped into the room.