by Chloe Blake
“Welcome to Par Le Bouquet. We’re right on the edge of the Loire Valley—known as the Garden of France—and not too far from Sancerre. Centrally located to many vineyards, several of whom are our clients—my uncle Armand Dechamps included.”
They parked in a graveled area off to the side. Nic retrieved her bag from the trunk, shaking his head when she offered to carry it. Maya slowed as she followed Nic toward the arched doorway. Dechamps. Dechamps... It hit her like a boulder. “Your family makes the Dechamps wine?”
“Oui,” was all he said, as if famous winemakers were the norm.
“I’ve had the cab franc. Didn’t it win an award or something?”
Nic held open the door for her, his smile touching one corner of his mouth. “I thought you didn’t know wine.”
Visions of their sexy wine tasting the night before flooded her thoughts. She shook them off and passed by his towering frame. “I don’t. I just know how to impress business clients.”
* * *
The floral scent of Maya’s hair teased his nose as she sauntered past him into the foyer. She wore a light gray cardigan with an ivory silk camisole underneath, and slim jeans that hugged her legs. Nice legs, he remembered, not that he was playing favorites with her anatomy. His lips had paid respect to every inch of her beautiful body, and if he didn’t stop watching the way she moved, the only tour she’d be getting was of his bedroom.
“Nathan?” he yelled out, hoping the young man could take Maya around. When he received no answer, Nic maneuvered himself slightly ahead of her—to avoid ogling—and led her through the old country home that their fathers had turned into a small empire of grapes.
Nic led Maya through the modest foyer into the large open-concept tasting room, where bottles of wine in open cubbyholes and glass lockers lined the walls. Colorful tapestries and landscape paintings decorated the walls; leather seating was arranged by a fireplace, and a long curving bar sat on a small platform with rows of glass stemware at the ready.
“Wow, this is a nice setup.”
“We renovated not long ago. The tasting room used to be enclosed, but we knocked out some walls.”
“Mmm-hmm.” Maya nodded. “I saw it in the expenses.”
Nic licked his lips, wondering if she was looking at everything and putting a price tag on it. “Your father’s office is this way.” They continued through a side doorway that led to a private corner of the house. Nic turned the old brass knob and held open the door for Maya, who tentatively walked past him into the office of Albert Belcourt.
He cautioned himself to be sensitive, watching her turn slowly in the middle of the room. “Other than a few items of paperwork, the room is how he left it. Albert preferred things minimal, but he loved books and art.” She didn’t say anything, just held herself as she cautiously inspected the room around her. Tentatively, she leaned over the medium-sized desk, took in the few small wooden chairs and walked to the leather couch in the corner. She tilted her head back to stare up at the wall-to-wall shelves filled with books, her gaze flicking over the spines.
Nic’s gaze darted around the room as well, noting that he hadn’t gone inside much since Albert’s death. Too many memories. A heavy vibration in his pocket interrupted his thoughts. Nic had ignored his phone while giving Maya the tour, but when the tenth consecutive call vibrated against his right thigh, he excused himself and pulled out the offending device. Daphne. He put the call to voice mail. Then he saw her text.
Where are you?
His call log read Daphne, Daphne, Daphne, Daphne. The phone lit up again in his hand. Daphne. Under normal circumstances, he’d be concerned and call right back, but Daphne was not normal. She was the overindulged princess of a rosé empire. Beautiful but spoiled, Daphne was the right hand of her father, Claude, who was a genius winemaker. No one could cultivate a rosé like Claude, and because of Maya’s father, Claude was working on a new rosé and wanted to use the tempranillo exclusive to Par Le Bouquet.
The deal would reinvigorate the vineyard, which had been struggling since more and more of the established vineyards were investing in technology. Better soil readings, better weather prediction and automated grape monitoring equaled better grape production and less need to buy grapes from other vineyards. But where the vineyard suffered, the brokering business grew. Now the wineries had too many grapes, and he was happy to negotiate and take a percentage of their sale. Maya’s father had been working out the details with Claude when he passed, which was how it fell into Nic’s lap. Along with Daphne.
His family, Albert and the Rhones had been close since Nic was a boy. Daphne was like an annoying little sister until she had graduated from university. They’d tried dating a few times, but he didn’t feel anything more than friendship. She, however, had a different interpretation of their relationship. Soul mates was one descriptor she had used. Perfect for each other was another.
And she knew that Nic couldn’t rebuke her advances, not if he wanted to be the sole provider of grapes for Claude’s new wine. No matter how many times he told Daphne he loved her only like a sister, her response was to tell him she would let him “sow his oats,” but when the time was right, she would come for him. Apparently, that time was now.
She had unexpectedly showed up at the hotel again last night, which had him running right into the arms of Maya.
God, making love to Maya had been beautiful. Nic saw her pick up Albert’s expense ledger and inwardly groaned. And now she was in the den, about to rip apart his business practice.
His phone vibrated again. This time it was Nathan. “Nathan, where are you? I’m giving Albert’s daughter, Maya, the tour. We’re in the den.”
“I’ll come straightaway, but you should know that Daphne and Monsieur Rhone are here.”
Nic checked to make sure Maya was occupied and walked farther into the hallway. “So that’s why I have ten messages from her.”
“Oui. Also, she came here last night looking for you, but I told her you weren’t here.”
“She showed up at the hotel. Fortunately, I was busy.” He glanced at Maya, who was now sitting at her father’s desk.
“They’re in the tasting room right now,” Nathan said.
“Okay, I’ll deal with them. You come keep Maya away from the tasting room. Daphne will not be pleased, and we can’t have a scene right now.”
Nic and the young man passed each other in the hall with a nod, and then Nic found Daphne and her father helping themselves to a bottle of Dechamps.
“Apologies, Claude.” Nic hurried in and shook the stately man’s hand. “Did we have a meeting today? Bonjour, Daphne, you look well.” Nic kissed Daphne on both cheeks, pulling back when she tried to catch his lips on the last one. She looked sullen and disapproving in black cropped trousers and tall heels. Her thin red hair was pulled back into a ponytail, which showed off large diamond stud earrings.
She didn’t say a word as Nic and Claude discussed the timing of their venture, pouring herself another glass of wine and scrolling through her phone. Her father slid a glance toward Daphne.
“Are you listening?”
“Of course, Father.” She looked up for one minute, then went back to her phone. Claude returned to his estimates, and Nic was sure they could deliver quality grapes in six months. Hidden in the extra expenses that Maya questioned was a rare strain of tempranillo, a resilient grape from his mother’s native Spain. Because it was unique to the region, he had brought the grape to generate more interest in the vineyard. Claude was definitely interested. The men smiled and shook hands while Daphne took a seated selfie.
“I’m excited about this, Nic. Dry and savory with a light ruby color.”
“We are, too, Claude.” Nic bit the inside of his cheek.
“I know it’s hard to accept,” Claude said. “Albert will be missed.”
Nic nodded, thankful that Claude understood, the
n he glanced at the empty doorway toward the den. Nic almost felt bad hiding Maya in there, but Daphne was a wild card, and he meant what he’d said: he was going to have those shares. He had plans for the business, and they didn’t include a partner.
Chapter 7
Nic walked the Rhones to their car and began to breathe a little easier. “Come, Daphne,” Claude said to his daughter. “Your mother needs us to stop at the butcher’s.”
“Don’t forget about the charity ball, Nic,” Daphne murmured, holding on to his outstretched hand as he helped her into the car. Her blue eyes were sharp. “Pick me up at seven?”
Merde. Albert had tricked him into taking her months ago. For the business, he’d said. “Ah...”
“Daphne,” her father hissed. “Nic is still dealing with Albert’s death.”
“All the more reason to go,” she said. “Get your mind off things. And it’s for a good cause. Albert would have wanted us to attend.”
Claude’s gaze flicked to Nic’s. For the business, he said to himself. “I’ll pick you up at seven.”
“Did I mention you have the Children First ball tonight?” Nathan said, coming up behind him as the Rhones drove away.
Nic rolled his eyes. “Please tell me I have a suit here.”
“You do. And the masks arrived last week.”
Nic whipped around. “Masks?”
“It’s a masquerade ball.”
“Oh, God.” Nic took a deep breath, wondering what to do about Maya.
“She’s remarkable, isn’t she?”
Nic jerked his neck back. “Daphne? She treats you like dirt.”
“I was talking about Maya.”
“Oh.” Nic’s voice lowered and he smiled a little. “Yes, she is.” Nic whipped back around. “Why, what did you two talk about?” He didn’t like the idea of Maya pumping him for information.
“Albert. California. Her job. She’s very astute.”
“I know,” Nic murmured with exasperation.
“I can’t believe he had a daughter this whole time and we never knew.”
“I guess he had his reasons. Is she still in the den?”
“Oui. She’s reorganizing his paperwork.”
Nic grimaced. He didn’t want her eagle eyes on his paperwork.
The men went back to the den, startled to find it empty.
* * *
Maya was looking for Nathan when she spotted Nic through a hallway window helping a woman into a car. Then the afternoon sun took her breath away as it sat farther into the hills and sent a burst of colors over the horizon. She thought scenes like that were only in movies. She hadn’t gotten the outside tour yet, but she planned to explore the rows of vines and the rolling greenery that her father had loved so much—so much, he’d chosen it over her.
“Nathan?” she called out into the tasting room. The place was quiet except for the crackle of the natural fireplace. She walked toward an open wine bottle and three used glasses that sat on a gleaming wood bar. Dechamps, the bottle read in gold letters. Seriously? Her partner’s family made Rick’s favorite? What were the odds?
Work was the last thing on her mind, but she had an itch to check in with Jen. First, she’d need a booster. She leaned over the bar and found a clean glass, then poured the ruby liquid halfway. Just watching the red waves made Maya think back to her night with Nic and the way he’d taken her through the motions of wine tasting.
When Rick had tried to show her, it had been pretentious; when Nic did it...foreplay. She stared at the glass, remembering how gentle his hands had been on the glass. She placed her fingers on the stem, and then swish. The legs drizzled slowly down the glass. Nice legs, Dechamps. She stuck her nose in the glass. Floral? Fruity? No clue, but her taste buds were singing. She let the liquid flow over her tongue, and a flashback of Nic’s wine-filled kiss came to mind. Her nipples perked up, and she quickly pulled the glass from her lips.
“What do you taste?” Nic appeared through the doorway, and she noticed above the door the familiar stone-carved head of Bacchus. The god of wine. Fitting.
“I don’t know. You startled me.”
“So try again,” he said softly, coming to stand in front of her. He poured himself a taste and downed it like he needed a boost himself. When he was done, he watched her expectantly. Maya took another sip, willing her body not to respond as he watched her lips close over the glass. She sipped, took a swish, then sipped again.
“I don’t know,” she said, blushing.
“Just guess,” he coaxed, his gaze roaming over her face.
“Raspberry.”
“And?”
“There’s more?”
“Again.” He grinned and leaned on the bar. She took another sip.
“Vanilla?”
His eyes popped. “You’re better at this than you think you are.”
“Lucky you, partner.” She loved the way his eyes darkened when she said it. “I can see why people like this wine, but I’m surprised you have it. It’s not French.”
“It’s from a Brazilian winery owned by my cousin, but the strain is French.”
“The strain?”
“The grape itself.”
“Oh. Interesting.”
“My uncle Armand’s winery is not too far from here, but his son opened his own winery in Brazil. They specialize in the reds.”
“Hmm. And are they clients of ours?”
“Of course.”
“And were those clients that were here earlier?” He swallowed and poured the rest of the bottle into his glass, then made a show of tasting. She wasn’t sure he was going to answer.
“They were. The Rhones specialize in the pinks.”
“Pinks?”
“Rosé, and some of the orange wines, too, but oranges can be tricky to master.”
“Orange wine? I’ve never had an orange wine.”
“That’s because it’s not very popular.”
“So you didn’t want to introduce your new partner to our clients?”
Nic’s lips flattened. He threw an elbow on the bar and leaned toward her. “About that. I’m willing to make you a very rich woman.”
She raised her brows. “How rich?”
He found a napkin and a pen behind the bar, then scribbled on the cloth and handed it to her. She kept her cool as she looked at the six figures. It was half of what her father had made last year. Nic didn’t know she had no interest in keeping the business, but she wasn’t going to go out like a chump. He was lowballing her, setting her up for negotiations. Well, little did he know, he was messing with the wrong woman. She tore the napkin in half.
“I don’t need your money.”
His gaze flicked to the napkin, then back to her. “Why would you want to keep this business? You know nothing about wine.”
“No, but I know people and I know business. Did you think I would just hand you my shares without knowing all the facts? I’m still reading through the contract. That money you’re offering is based on whose appraisal? If you upgraded like you said you did, then you have a plan to make more money in the future, money I would be giving up. I’ll have to take that into consideration.”
“Jesus,” Nic said, his face splitting into a smile. If she didn’t know better, she’d say he was impressed. “You’re a shark.”
She gave him a humble shrug. “I know.”
They stared at each other as a sexual tension rose between them like the beginning of an electrical storm. His gaze sizzled while her blood began humming a slow methodical pulse.
“Erm, I’ve put your suit and mask in your room,” Nathan said to Nic, his eyes darting back and forth between Nic and Maya. They both turned their heads as if startled. Maya took a step back and gathered herself just as Nathan stopped at her elbow. “And I’ve had our housekeeper set up our largest guest r
oom for you. Your bag is already there. It’s ready, if you’ll follow me upstairs.”
“Merci, Nathan,” Nic said in a low voice. “Maya, I have to attend a party tonight, but feel free to make yourself at home. Nathan will stay and make sure you are comfortable.”
“Oh, all right. Have fun.” She snaked her hand around Nathan’s elbow. “I’m all yours.”
“This way,” Nathan said as he led her toward the exit. She looked over her shoulder at Nic, just in time to see him watching her ass as she walked away.
A long walk along the back of the house and one beautiful cherrywood staircase later, she was dropped off in a cozy guest room awash in tan leather, beige tapestries and gold accents. A fire was burning low in the fireplace, and the corner table was set with an arrangement of meats, cheeses and breads. And, of course, a bottle of unopened wine rounded out the selection.
“It’s lovely, Nathan. Thank you.”
Nathan walked to the window and spread the curtain wider. “It was your father’s favorite view.”
“He slept in here?”
“No, his room is just down the hall. We’ve kept it as is.”
“This must be hard on you. I’m sorry.”
“He was a wonderful teacher. I wish you could have known him.”
Me, too. And there it was again, that anger curbed in a bubble of confusion. Everything she had been told suggested he was a deadbeat dad, but those who had known him were devastated by his death. People like Nathan, who clearly loved him.
Nathan left her alone to unpack her bag. She’d brought enough for a few days, which she hoped would be sufficient time to go through her father’s records and learn...well...something about the man she’d never known. She couldn’t help but stare out the window as she placed her things around the room. Her father’s favorite view, huh? She opened the door of her room softly, shuffled down the hall in her socks and came across an unadorned wooden door. She put her ear to the wood, then slowly turned the knob when she heard nothing. The door clicked open, and she slipped inside.