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“You’re late,” Phillip said gruffly.
“Mother told me that Amy wasn’t coming this evening. I stopped in on my way here to see if she was okay.”
“It would’ve done her good to get out for the evening.” Kay shook her head sadly. “She hasn’t been at work the whole week.”
“She looked so pale and unhappy the last three weeks, I think it’s better that she’s taken some time off.” Megan looked troubled. “I don’t think she ever grieved properly after Roland’s death. She was so busy trying to cheer us up…and pick up the slack at the winery.”
Heath came closer. “I tried to talk her into coming tonight—she didn’t want to. Hell, I can’t even get through to her right now.” Frustration simmered in Heath’s eyes. “Everything I suggest, she resists.”
“Should I talk to her?” Joshua looked around at the others, his gaze alighting longest on Alyssa. “Will that help?”
Heath hesitated. “Maybe.”
“Both of you need to back off and give her time. She’s lost the man she loves.” Alyssa turned her hand and threaded her fingers through Joshua’s and squeezed. “In her shoes I’d be heartbroken.”
“That she is.” Heath collapsed on the sofa facing them, and Caitlyn decided that he looked even more weary than she felt. It was a terrible time for Heath, Megan and Joshua. Their brother’s death, the shocking discovery of Rafaelo’s existence and learning of their father’s betrayal of their mother all meant that everyone’s nerves were stretched to the breaking point.
Caitlyn wished that the clock could be turned back and everything made right.
Ivy arrived bearing a tray and offered around dainty glasses filled with amber-coloured sherry and glasses of pale gold sauvignon blanc.
Rafaelo bent forward to set down his glass of wine as Ivy departed.
“Wait.” Caitlyn touched his arm. “Don’t put it there.”
He stared down at her hand on his arm, then lifted his gaze to meet hers. The impact was like a burst of static. From his raised eyebrow, Caitlyn knew he’d felt it, too.
His skin felt hot under her touch. Caitlyn started to snatch her hand away. Then stopped. No, darn it. She was a respected award-winning winemaker. What was she doing jumping away from a man’s bare skin like some terrified little virgin?
So she left her hand on his arm and returned his stare. The contact was electrifying. Under her fingertips she felt the muscles contract. His eyes grew blacker than midnight.
All of the sudden Caitlyn had a sense of getting in deeper than she’d ever been before. For a cowardly moment she half wished she had withdrawn her hand, when she’d had the chance, but now that moment had passed.
Irrevocably.
He smiled, and said so softly that only she could hear, “I’m getting used to your telling me what to do.”
She blushed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to. That table has been in Kay’s family for centuries. I wanted to set down a coaster—” Caitlyn reached for a hand-painted box and extracted a pile of glass coasters, setting them out on the low table that separated the two long sofas. “I don’t want it to be marked from the glasses.”
“I’m surprised Kay places the table where it could risk getting damaged.”
“She likes to surround herself with possessions with meaning. I don’t think she’d mind it being marked—she’d see that as part of the beauty.”
“But you’re protecting her from heartache?”
“Yes. The Saxon family has been very good to me. It’s my turn to protect them. Wouldn’t you—if you were in the same position?”
Their eyes held for a long moment and a beat of perfect understanding arched between them.
Phillip’s voice broke in, “What do you think of the sherry, Heath?”
Heath lifted the sherry glass and sipped. “Very good.”
“It’s more than good. It’s a winner,” said Phillip argumentatively. But Heath didn’t respond. “Sure you don’t want a taste, Rafaelo?”
“Quite sure.” Rafaelo’s tone was measured and frighteningly formal, his curved lips compressed into that hard line that caused Caitlyn to shiver.
She gave Phillip a quick look. He was so caught up in his battle with Heath that he didn’t seem to sense that he was antagonizing Rafaelo. Couldn’t he fathom that the sherry was a volatile topic tied up with Rafaelo’s complicated relationship with his family? The mother, her great-uncle and the father to whom Rafaelo believed he owed his loyalty. She wished Phillip would shut up.
Heath stretched out his legs—jean-clad Caitlyn noticed with relief—and addressed Rafaelo, “That’s where my path diverges from my father’s. I’m not a trophy hunter, I simply make solid no-fuss wines to drink with meals.”
“Don’t pay attention to him.” Joshua tipped his head sideways against the back of the armchair. “The wines he produces are superb—far from no-fuss.”
“You should taste them, Rafaelo, they’re fabulous.” Caitlyn ran interference again, watching the byplay between the Saxon males and trying to fathom the underlying currents.
“Thank you for that endorsement, kitten,” Heath said.
“Kitten?” Rafaelo’s lip curled in disgust. “Kitten?”
“My nickname,” said Caitlyn, very quickly. She flashed Heath a half smile, wishing that the undercurrents would evaporate.
Even Joshua’s eyes narrowed, revealing his awareness of the rising tension in the room despite his outwardly relaxed appearance. On the other side of the room, Kay was chewing her lip, her eyes flitting from her husband to the Spanish interloper to her younger son—clearly Kay was worried, too.
And beside her Rafaelo felt like a powder keg about to explode.
In the golden glow of the tall candles, Rafaelo studied the straw-coloured wine in the Baccarat glass, then he glanced over the top to where Caitlyn sat beside him, her meal finished, too.
Kitten!
Rafaelo suppressed a snort. Heath had it wrong. This woman was no kitten. His half brother didn’t know her. He drew comfort from that thought. She turned her head. Her eyes, the colour of pale, unearthly crystal, so clear, so pure, connected with his. Desire jolted through him.
She reminded him of a wolf. Fiercely protective. Her eyes glowing, all-seeing, uncanny in the candlelight.
“What do you think?”
He stared at her. What did he think? Madre de Dios, he couldn’t think. Not while her eyes transfixed him, entrapped him in their clear depths.
“Would you prefer red?”
She was talking about the wine, he realised belatedly, jerking himself back to reality, to the glass in front of him, to the dining room in the Saxon homestead, and to the conversation dominated by weather and Brix.
A conversation that he would normally command. But not tonight. Tonight turbulence raged within him. He sensed resentment from his half siblings. Not that he blamed them. Anger lingered against Phillip—his dishonourable father—who blatantly offered around sherry, boasted about the awards he’d garnered, from a process he had stolen from a vulnerable, loving woman. Some of his dark emotion spilled onto Caitlyn; her name had been listed alongside Phillip Saxon’s as winemaker.
He pushed himself to his feet. “Excuse me, please.” Rafaelo stalked to the tall doors that led outside. For the first time in years he craved a cigarette. But he’d given them up a decade ago. He felt her presence before she stepped outside.
“I needed a breath of fresh air,” he felt compelled to explain.
Then Caitlyn smiled and the blackness eased inside him. Rafaelo told himself that he was being too harsh. She’d been an employee, acting under instructions…Phillip Saxon’s instructions. And the desire for her that had been tamped down ignited again.
“So how did you come to work for Saxon’s Folly?” he asked Caitlyn to get his head out of that dark black pit it was stuck in.
“Heath tutored me during my first year at university—we became friends. He organised a vacation job for me at Saxon’s Folly. After I finished studying, the family offered me a full-time position as a cellar hand.” And she’d always wondered what had motivated that offer.
Rafaelo tilted his head sideways studying her. “What made Heath single you out?”
“He’s a kind man. I think he felt sorry for me.” Caitlyn laughed without humour.
Sorry for her? What was wrong with the man? Rafaelo wondered. “But why?”
She hesitated. “I was a swot.”
“A swot?” Rafaelo asked, puzzled by the word.
“I studied too much. I came out of university with a first class honours degree, a willingness to learn and not much else. I always had my nose in a book.”
“Ah.” Had she seized the opportunity to work at Saxon’s Folly because of Heath Saxon? Such a smart woman, so besotted over such a dumb ass.
Through the glass doors, Rafaelo cast his clueless half brother a damning look. Didn’t he see under the worn jeans and sneakers to the woman she was?
“Heath was already winemaker here,” Caitlyn was saying. “He’d taken over from Phillip, who had worked at a killing pace for the past ten years and wanted to start slowing down. Joshua studied locally and ran the vineyards, while Roland looked after the marketing side.”
“That was around the time he—” Rafaelo couldn’t bring himself to use Saxon’s name “—decided to give his sons shares equal to those that his wife held in Saxon’s Folly, while retaining the largest share himself.” Only to the legitimate sons, of course.
Caitlyn’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I made it my business to find out such things,” he said in reply to her unanswered question.
“He gave Megan a share equal to her brothers’.”
“Only later, once she’d finished her studies.”
“She was younger.” Caitlyn came instantly to Phillip Saxon’s defence.
“So why did Heath leave Saxon’s Folly?” That was one question Rafaelo wanted answered.
Caitlyn lifted her shoulders in a small movement and let them drop. “Heath and Phillip had had a bitter fallout. I was assistant winemaker by that time. Heath suggested that Phillip and Kay offer me the top job, winemaker at Saxon’s Folly.”
He read the pride in her eyes, the disbelief that still lingered. “Didn’t you think you could do it?”
“It had been my secret dream, so deeply buried that I never saw any chance of it coming true.”
“Especially not with a Saxon already in the winemaker role,” he said drily. “You needed Heath to move on.”
“I never wanted that!” Her eyes sparked with anger. “That’s a horrid thing to imply. Heath’s always been fantastic to me. Supportive, encouraging. I…” Her voice trailed away.
Rafaelo didn’t need her help to join the dots.
Caitlyn shook her head. “Oh, what’s the use of trying to explain? You’ll never understand.”
He understood. More than she thought. She fancied herself in love with Heath Saxon.
Caitlyn saw his mouth tighten. She wished he could get over this stupid antagonism that he and Heath shared.
How could she explain what it had meant to her to be promoted to chief winemaker? That had been Mount Olympus back then. Attaining such lofty heights had seemed more farfetched than the hope of catching Heath’s attention—a dream which she was starting to realise had been nothing more than the crush of a bookish late developer. She turned away from Rafaelo, unwilling to think about what had prompted such a ground-shifting revelation, and made for the tall glass doors.
“I’m going back inside.” After a long moment, she heard him follow and tried to tell herself that she didn’t care what he did—as long as he didn’t harm the Saxons.
Later, after murmuring farewells to Phillip and Kay, Caitlyn glanced to where Rafaelo stood listening to Alyssa and Joshua argue about whether Saxon’s Folly should be sponsoring a newly created food and wine TV show. Since their conversation, Rafaelo hadn’t said much. Hell, he’d even declined dessert—no one ever refused a helping of Ivy’s pavlova.
But then she’d been silent, too, caught up in the discovery that she wasn’t in love with Heath Saxon—that it had been nothing more than a very convenient crush that had prevented the need for a boyfriend when she hadn’t wanted one. And later…
Well, later it had meant there’d been no pressure on her to come to terms with what had happened.
Her breath hissed out. A whole new world opened ahead of her. One filled with men and passion and all the things she’d spent five years avoiding. She glanced toward Rafaelo.
In one of those freakish tricks of timing, Alyssa and Joshua stopped arguing and looked toward the French doors. Rafaelo’s gaze followed. Caitlyn was caught staring. She gave them a little wave and mouthed, “Good night.”
Rafaelo came toward her. “I’ll walk you home.”
“That’s not necessary.” Caitlyn gave a breathy little laugh. “Goodness, I’ve walked home often enough. This isn’t the city. This is Saxon’s Folly, I’m hardly in any danger of getting mugged. If I’d thought that, I’d have called Pita, the guard, to walk me home.”
“I thought you might like the company,” Rafaelo murmured. “I’m on foot, too. The stables are on my way home.”
Coming up behind him, Alyssa said, “Caitlyn’s right. Saxon’s Folly is as far removed from the city as you can get—ask me, I’m the original fast-lane gal, aren’t I?” And she gave Joshua a loving smile that had him hurrying to her side, his dark eyes melting.
For a raw instant Caitlyn felt a tearing of envy. She wanted to be loved like that. For a fraction of time she let her gaze rest on Heath, then she swung her attention back to Rafaelo.
His eyes were piercing. Caitlyn felt as if he could see all the way to her soul, to the need that lay there, beneath the frozen wastes.
“Thank you.” Her voice sounded strangled. “I’d like you to walk me home.”
Rafaelo glanced at Heath and back to her. “Would you?”
Six
Patches of moonlight danced on the pathway as they walked into the copse of tall, whispering trees. The bright light from the homestead receded behind them.
“What did you mean by that crack?”
Caitlyn sounded mad. Rafaelo glanced sideways. Her stride was long, her shoulders thrown back in challenge. No hint of Heath’s kitten remained.
Rafaelo didn’t pretend to misunderstand. “Heath has been your tutor, your friend, he arranged a job for you. You’re in lo—”
She covered her ears with her hands. “Don’t say it, please.”
He shot her a frustrated glare. “¡Vale! I won’t. But don’t lie to yourself. Instead ask yourself why you’re wasting your life? You’re young, smart, beautiful. Why long for Heath Saxon? He calls you kitten, for heaven’s sake.” Rafaelo snorted in disgust. “The man doesn’t even know your true nature. Find yourself someone else, someone who appreciates you for the woman you are.”
Her hands dropped away from her ears back to her side. She didn’t want to hear what he’d had to say. The silence told him how much she resented his interference.
