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He chuckled. ‘You’ve been hard at it, haven’t you?’
She leaned against the bench and let the smile out. ‘Yes. Thank you.’ She meant it this time.
It was a ten minute walk down the hill to the thermal pool complex, but she jogged it in five—so she had time to pick up a swimsuit from the store first. She walked straight past the leopard print but stopped at the rack of crimson costumes. There was a two piece the exact shade of part of the graffiti piece on Lorenzo’s fence. She grabbed the one in her size—hoped the cut would be okay. She paid and ran—not wanting to be late.
She went for the full facial, full massage option. An hour and a half of pure bliss. At the end she couldn’t have peeled herself off the table if she’d tried. The beautician left her to relax. Her private room had its own small pool of thermally heated, mineral-laden, olive-green water for her to melt into at her leisure. When she regained some kind of muscle control, that was.
She was almost asleep, lying on her tummy, when she heard him.
‘Are you ready for your massage, ma’am?’
She smiled. She recognised the thread in that voice. ‘I’ve already had my massage, thanks.’
‘This one is a little special.’
She felt his hands circling over her back.
‘Crimson,’ he muttered. ‘Good choice.’
She didn’t roll over—for one thing she couldn’t, for another she didn’t want him to see how slight the triangles covering her breasts were. Not yet anyway—she was still getting used to them herself.
But he couldn’t have been that into the bikini because in less than a minute he was pushing the briefs down. He lifted her foot, then the other to get the garment off—and when he placed each foot back he spread them a little further apart. Slid his hands hard up her calves, up the backs of her thighs…
She bit her lip, anticipation flooding her. ‘Lorenzo, there are people everywhere.’
‘I locked the door.’ His ‘massage’ took an incredibly intimate turn.
‘They’ll hear us,’ she said breathlessly.
‘No, they’ll hear you.’ He laughed and bent to nip her butt while his thumbs stroked into the space between. ‘Of course,’ he added thoughtfully, ‘you don’t have to come. Women don’t have to orgasm every time, do they? You can still enjoy sex regardless, right? It won’t bother me.’
‘How magnanimous of you.’ She clutched the towel beneath her and tilted up to give him better access. It was one hell of a massage.
He murmured, mouth moist on her skin as he manipulated her—faster, deeper. ‘Think of it as a challenge. I dare you not to come.’
She rocked, pushing harder onto him, her voice leaping three octaves. ‘I can’t not!’
He whipped his hands away and flipped her over. He was already naked, and in a moment was above her. He held her face hard between his hands, kissing her savagely while he surged into her. Her scream came out in another way—her fingernails raking down his back. He arched harder, his thrusts even more powerful.
It made it even better.
‘Does anyone know about the show?’
They were in the water, cheeks flushed from the heat, bodies floating.
‘Only Rosanna,’ Sophy answered lazily. ‘She got me the chance. One of her flirts sponsors the film festival.’
‘And no one else?’
‘No.’
‘Sophy.’
‘What?’ She gazed at him candidly. ‘It’s not like you’re an open book, Lorenzo. You keep everything from everybody.’
He frowned. ‘Only the bad stuff.’
What, his whole life was bad? She just didn’t believe that.
‘Why don’t you want to tell your family?’ he asked.
‘I’m going to. But I want them to see the stuff first—so I can see what they really think. And not just be nice because they know it was made by me.’
‘What they think matters that much to you?’
‘Sure,’ she said. ‘They’re my family.’
He went quiet.
‘I want them to be proud of me.’ She tried to explain.
‘There’s no way they’re not proud of you already.’
She smiled. But he was wrong. She’d let them down. ‘I’m not like them.’ But she didn’t explain it further. Rather she let her hands slide over him—her reward for a long day of hard work. ‘You were wrong.’
‘What about?’
‘This just can’t be legal.’
He laughed.
‘I’m serious. It feels too good.’
‘I’ve got a secret for you, honey,’ he whispered into her mouth. ‘Only the things that are right feel this good.’
And that was the moment her heart liquefied. She tipped her head back to look up at him—a long, searching look. But his gaze slid from her and then the rest of him did.
He splashed up the steps out of the pool. ‘We need to get moving.’
‘You’ve got to be kidding.’
‘A couple of my growers are coming in to Hanmer and we’re going out to dinner.’
‘What, like at a restaurant?’
‘Yeah.’ He turned on the shower.
‘And it’s okay for me to turn up in my bikini?’
He laughed under the stream of water. ‘Absolutely.’
‘Well, what else am I going to wear? My crushed suit from today?’
She was naked.
He left the shower running for her and wrapped a towel round his hips. While under the hot jet she watched him open his backpack. He pulled out another pair of jeans and tossed them on the massage table for her.
She switched off the water. ‘I’m not going to meet people wearing your clothes.’
‘Sophy—’ he sent her a look ‘—relax. It’s not a fancy restaurant. Just nice people, nice food.’
It was a fancy restaurant and wearing nothing but a pair of men’s jeans that hung on her and a tourist tee shirt from the spa shop wasn’t her idea of fancy restaurant attire. And, worse, wearing his jeans turned her on.
‘Hi, Lorenzo. You must be Sophy.’ So he’d mentioned her to them? She felt an absurdly warm glow about that.
To her relief the older couple were in jeans too and were full of welcoming smiles. Lorenzo explained that Charlotte and Rob Wilson had one of the largest holdings that supplied grapes to one of his labels. They were led to a table, talk turned to food and wine and business.
‘Have you known Lorenzo long?’ Sophy just had to do some digging while Lorenzo and Rob talked about the bar.
‘Fifteen years,’ Charlotte replied.
Sophy nearly spilt her wine. Wow—if there was someone who knew him it was this woman.
Charlotte was smiling at her as if she’d just read her mind. ‘He used to work as a hand in the picking season. Right from when he was a teen and had nowhere to go in the holidays.’ She looked at Sophy. ‘I tried to spoil him but he wouldn’t have it. I’d leave baking in his cabin and hope he got it. The tin was always empty when he left so I figured he did. Later on Alex used to come and work too. It was more fun for him then, I think.’
Sophy swallowed. ‘He was lucky he worked with you.’
‘He worked on another vineyard when he was still at school too. The McIntosh property.’ Charlotte shook her head. ‘I’ve never known someone to be so driven to succeed. And he has.’
Yeah, but was he happy with it? Sophy was increasingly worried there was a huge depth of unhappiness in him.
‘Now he’s invested in this bar. Who knows what he’ll turn to next? He’s a natural entrepreneur. He’s a genius.’
Okay, so Charlotte was his number one fan.
‘What are you talking about?’ Lorenzo turned to them.
‘You.’ Charlotte smiled at him. ‘When are you going to be satisfied, Lorenzo?’
‘I don’t want to get bored.’
Sophy smiled as the woman laughed. But her nerves stretched. Bored—as he had been with the woman who’d no longer turned him on? He was busy—always busy—and frequently moved to newer, even more challenging projects. He did that with women too, didn’t he? She had to try to remember that.
‘Did you know Jayne McIntosh is trying to sell,’ Rob said. ‘I bet her father regrets not backing you now.’
‘Would you be interested in Jayne’s property, Lorenzo?’ Charlotte asked quietly.
Was it Sophy or had he gone a bit stiff? Who was the Jayne? Was this the McIntosh he’d worked for? He reached for his wine and took a small sip. ‘No. I don’t think so. We have enough for the label and I’m diversifying elsewhere.’
‘He was stupid not to come in at the time.’ That was Rob again.
‘He was doing what he thought best.’ Lorenzo shrugged.
‘He made a mistake,’ Charlotte muttered.
‘No.’ Lorenzo’s face went blank. ‘He did me a favour. He made me want to fight even harder.’
‘You were already fighting hard enough,’ said Charlotte.
Lorenzo just laughed and put his hand on the older woman’s arm.
The rental car was roomy and sleek and, even though it was only a ten-minute drive, she was asleep by the time he parked the car. He switched the engine off and just looked at her in the dim light from the moon and stars. Her hair was amazing. He’d been with her every moment—she hadn’t nipped into a salon to have it styled in the two minutes he’d had his back turned. She hadn’t even used a hairdryer. But it was in that old Hollywood movie star style again—a straight bob at the top ending in curls at her shoulders. She’d run a comb quickly through it, made sure the part was straight and put a clip in. That was it. Utterly effortless perfection.
That was her all over. But she didn’t seem to know it. Always she strived to be more—to be and do everything for everyone. She should just chill out and believe in herself more. Because she was gorgeous—inside and out.
He went round to her side of the car, opened her door and roused her gently.
‘Oh, sorry.’ Her eyes were slumberous, deep blue.
He held her hand tightly and guided her into the lodge. She blinked as he put the lights on.
‘You have been working hard,’ he said looking at the table. It was covered. But it was the one lying on the small mirror that caught his attention. The blue was the exact colour of her eyes.
‘Put it on for me,’ he said, his voice woefully husky.
‘It’s only dress jewellery.’ She played it down as she put it on. ‘It’s hardly diamonds or pearls.’
‘It doesn’t need to be. It’s beautiful. You’re really talented.’ He’d known that. It was some of what had driven him to offer her the room, to bring her down here.
But it wasn’t the only reason. There was the totally selfish reason as well—to have her for the weekend, all to himself. With no one else making demands on her, no interruptions, no brother or sister or mother calling all the time, scheduling errands for her to run. No, she was here for when he wanted. And he wanted her all the time.
He took her on the floor then and there. With her naked other than the beautiful necklace—the blue burning into him as he moved closer, closer still. He couldn’t resist touching, couldn’t stop touching.
He went back to the vineyards early the next day but finished up hours before he ought to. It didn’t matter, much of what he needed could be done by phone. It was more just to see the team face to face. But his mind was elsewhere—and his body ached to catch up with it.
Not good. He rebelled against the unfettered need rising inside. Where was his restraint? His self-control was slipping. It was all wrong—he’d worked so long to gain mastery over his emotions. So why wasn’t the passion waning? Why was it getting worse?
‘Come for a run.’
Sophy looked up as Lorenzo stalked in. The electricity in the room surged—she wouldn’t have been surprised if all the light bulbs had suddenly blown. ‘Is exercise your answer to everything?’
‘It is if I’m stuck on a problem or angry or something—it works for me.’
And was he stuck on a problem now, or feeling something stronger? ‘You get angry a bit, Lorenzo?’
‘I used to.’
Maybe he’d had a bit to be angry about. Casually she put down the pliers. ‘Tell me about it.’
