he did.”
“Let’s hope it’s the right one. Let me know as soon as you’ve spoken to him.”
“I will.”
“Good. I’ll look forward to it.”
His business done, the call was over, leaving Anna alone to stare at the darkening hills in the distance and to wonder just how all of this was going to end.
“I told you I was right.” Cynthia’s eyes gleamed triumphantly.
Judd merely nodded. He’d spent the latter part of the afternoon locked in his office, looking at his schedule and seeing where, and to whom, he could apportion his workload. It was one advantage of having several cousins all working within the same family business, he conceded. There were plenty of people just as invested as he was in making sure The Masters’ continued to run smoothly. Between his cousins and the well-trained staff they also employed, Judd felt confident he could leave the company in good hands.
Once he had everything worked out to his satisfaction, he asked his mother for a private meeting. Her delight at the enticement Charles was offering was palpable. He hadn’t seen her this animated, ever.
“When will you let them know your decision?” his mother pressed.
“On Friday morning. I’ll be too busy tomorrow bringing everyone up to speed with their additional duties to be talking to Anna Garrick.”
As soon as he said her name he felt the now-familiar tug of desire. He’d made some inquiries. She lived with Charles Wilson, which confirmed she was indeed far, far more than simply his father’s P.A. Stealing her away from him, right under the old man’s roof, was undeniably appealing but something he’d have to approach very carefully.
“Do you know how long the DNA testing will take?”
“I believe establishing paternity is a relatively simple process. A few days to a week for the results.”
“You know, I cannot believe he would stoop to that. He only needs to look at you to know I never betrayed him.”
She injected a note of pathos in her voice, but Judd had heard it all before. When she didn’t elicit the response from her son that she obviously wanted, she continued.
“We’ll finally have back what should have been ours all along,” she said, her voice now stronger, showing her true mettle.
“The house?”
He should have known that would be the most important thing to her. He had to admit to a certain curiosity himself to go back to the place that had been his home for the first six years of his life. But where his mother seemed to want to reclaim the building, Judd was far more inclined to go after it with a wrecking ball … just as he planned to do with Wilson Wines. He’d take his father’s legacy apart bit by bit, and when he was done, he’d be back here at The Masters’, picking up the reins of his job once again. At that point, his mother could have the darn house for all he cared.
“I’ll have to redecorate it, you know. Restore it to its former glory.”
“How do you know it’s not perfect just the way it is?”
She rolled her eyes at him. “Judd, darling, it’s been twenty-five years since I’ve set foot in there. There will be work to do, I’m sure. I poured my heart into that house—no one loved it more than I did.”
“Let’s not put the cart before the horse, hmm?”
“Of course. We have to satisfy your father’s ridiculous demands first. How long do you think you’ll be away?”
“I don’t see this taking more than a month.”
“That long?”
He thought of his plans for the delectable Miss Garrick. A month? Maybe longer would be better. He wanted to savor this victory.
“Maybe longer. We’ll see how it pans out.”
After his mother left his office, he sat back in his leather chair and stared out the window at the vineyard and winery that occupied his immediate view. He enjoyed his work here, there was no doubt about that, and he was good at it. But he had become bored in recent months, feeling stifled by the lack of opportunity to make changes. Now, perhaps, even if only for a short time, he’d have the chance to really stretch his mind as he implemented his plans. Plans to dismantle his father’s empire and steal his mistress right out from under his nose.
Anna woke on Friday morning in a state of nerves and automatically reached for her cell phone, as she had several times throughout last night. Still nothing from Judd Wilson. Just how fine was he going to cut this? She looked at the time on her phone and raced for the bathroom—the broken night’s rest having made her sleep past the time she’d wanted to rise. A car was coming to pick her up and take her to the airport for her flight in about half an hour. She’d already packed her things the night before. All she needed to do was shower and dress in the clothes she’d left out for the journey home.
She was down in the lobby of the hotel and signing off her hotel account when a trickle of awareness filtered through the parting words of the hotel receptionist. He was here. Did that mean she’d succeeded? Was he accompanying her back to New Zealand, or maybe he was merely here to tell her in person that her quest on Charles’s behalf had failed.
She knew she had to turn around. Had to face him. It took every ounce of strength in her body to paste a smile on her face and turn away from the reception desk. The moment her eyes lighted upon him she felt the excruciating pull of attraction. How could she still be so drawn to him when he’d been so awful to her? She’d asked herself that question over and over the past two nights, especially each time she’d woken from yet another tormented dream explicitly featuring the man standing directly opposite her.
He’d be a formidable poker player, she thought irrationally. He let nothing show in his expression as to what he was thinking, or whatever decision he’d reached.
“Are you ready?” he said coolly.
“What? No good morning?” she said, unable to keep the acerbity from her voice.
He merely raised one dark brow. Anna grabbed the handle of her wheeled suitcase and headed for the front door.
“Let me take that for you,” Judd said, blocking her way and collapsing the extended handle and swinging the case up in one hand.
She’d packed for only three and a half days, and she hadn’t packed light, yet he carried the bag as if it weighed nothing. Realizing he was headed for the automatic opening doors and to the dark limousine outside, she propelled herself after him.
“Wait, I’ve ordered a taxi.”
“And I’ve canceled it. We’ll travel together to the airport.”
“And then?” she asked, suddenly tired of the game.
Was he coming back to Auckland with
