style="font-size:15px;"> “Judd Wilson, welcome to The Masters’.” Judd shifted the ax to his left hand so he could reach out his right to shake. She smiled in response, a slow movement of her lips that made his groin tighten almost imperceptibly, but the effect when she placed her hand in his was unmistakable. Raw need, hot and greedy, unfurled with latent intent. Interesting. Very interesting. Perhaps he’d found a solution to the boredom that had been plaguing him for weeks. He smiled back and clasped her hand firmly.
“Hi, I’m Anna Garrick,” she said, her voice husky.
Her eyes searched his face keenly. As if she was looking for something. Perhaps some spark of recognition from him? No, the instant he thought of it, he eschewed the idea. If he’d ever met Anna Garrick before, he had no doubt he’d have remembered her.
From the top of her burnished dark chestnut-colored hair to her perfectly proportioned body and the tips of her painted toenails, she was his every fantasy. Even her voice—slightly soft, slightly rough—stroked his senses in a way he could never forget.
“Lovely to meet you, Anna. Did you arrive today?”
Her eyes flicked away, as if she was suddenly nervous—or hiding something. Judd felt his instincts go on alert.
“Yes, I did. It’s wonderful here. You’re so lucky to live in such a beautiful area. Have you … worked here long?” The question was innocent, but he’d caught the slight hesitation, as if she’d started out with the intention of asking something else.
“You could say that,” Judd replied, his smile tightening. “It’s something of a Masters family business—I grew up here.”
“But your name …”
Ah, yes, his name. The reminder of the father who cast him aside all those years ago—and the reason why, even as the very successful head of The Masters’ far-flung interests, some of his cousins still never quite treated him like he belonged.
“My mother is Cynthia Masters-Wilson,” he replied. No need to go into details. Not when there were so many more pleasurable things he’d like to discuss with this woman.
“And do all Masters chop wood for the winery fireplaces?” she teased.
“But of course,” he replied in kind. “Anything at all we can do to make your stay more … pleasurable.” That certainly sounded better than admitting that he’d needed the tension release after an incredibly frustrating day of work.
Some days were like that. Bashing at the keys on a laptop didn’t quite cut it when you just needed to get physical. And when his choices were either to chop wood or to resort to physical violence against his cousin Ethan, Judd had, reluctantly, chosen chopping wood.
Of course, Ethan really did need someone to knock his head straight. The man might run the winemaking side of the business with undeniable skill—their stock of award-winning wines was proof enough of that—but he was so stuck in his ways, he might as well be cemented in place. Ethan was devoted to maintaining the integrity and superiority of the wines that were synonymous with The Masters’ brand. With the current glut of certain wine varieties on the local market, Judd was equally adamant that Ethan needed to diversify. He’d been suggesting it from the day the first projections about the excesses had arisen some years ago. His cousin was like a bear with a sore head on the issue and even more stubborn with it.
Yes, he definitely needed the distraction Ms. Garrick provided.
“And I do hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything at all I can do for you,” he added.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “But I can’t think of anything I need at the moment. My plan for now is just to enjoy a ramble through these lovely grounds before it gets too dark.”
“Then I’ll let you return to it. But I’ll be seeing you at dinner tonight?”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, we have a family dinner to welcome the new guests every week. There would have been an invitation in your welcome pack when you checked in. It begins with drinks in the formal sitting room of the main house at seven o’clock.” Judd stepped closer, taking hold of her hand again. “You will be there, won’t you?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
“Excellent,” he murmured. “Until then.” He lifted her hand, brushing his lips against the back in a soft kiss. She seemed taken aback for a moment, but then she gave him another slow, delicious smile before walking away. Judd leaned on the ax handle and watched her go. Shadows were beginning to creep along the foothills. He looked up to the ruins of the gothic mansion that crowned the nearby peak.
The charred remains were all that was left of the original Masters home. Years after its destruction, it remained a symbol of the family’s past glory and their fight to rebuild a world that had been burned to the ground in a devastating sweep of ravenous bushfire. You had to admire a family that had had every marker of their wealth laid to waste, but who had fought back, tooth and nail, to be where they were today.
He was proud to be a part of that heritage. Despite his name, he was as much a Masters as any one of his many cousins and had just as much right to be here. Even so, he’d always felt as if he was an outsider. It had made him work twice as hard to prove his worth, and that work ethic had pushed The Masters’ forward and onto a global platform beyond the family’s expectations since he’d taken over as head of operations.
But perhaps he’d been too work-focused lately. It had been a while since he’d let loose. His duties here had consumed him for months now. Today, he’d finally admitted to himself that, no matter how hard he pushed himself, he was bored. Life, work, everything lacked the challenge he craved. A little light flirtation with the lovely Anna Garrick could be the perfect antithesis to the frustrations he was facing.
Judd methodically stacked the pile of logs he’d split and put away his tools before heading for his suite of rooms and having a much-needed shower. The prospect of another evening with his family suddenly held a great deal more appeal than it had after his latest altercation with Ethan’s inflexible attitude.
Perhaps he’d found the challenge he was seeking after all.
Judd’s hair was still slightly damp when he made his way into the formal sitting room, where whichever members of the Masters clan who were resident gathered for drinks with the guests before dinner. It was an old-fashioned habit, one that had its roots firmly linked to the ruins on the hill and a lifestyle long since gone, but one which still held a certain charm and which had no doubt been integral in keeping the family so firmly knit together.
Sunset brought a deeper chill to the air outside, which was offset by the crackling fire in the large stone fireplace. He cast a glance around the room, giving a grim-lipped nod briefly in Ethan’s direction before smiling at his mother, who sat, with her usual supreme elegance, on one of the chairs near the fireplace. No sign of the new guest yet.
He crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a half glass of The Masters’ pinot noir. As he did so, he saw the object of his intentions hover in the doorway. He moved toward her immediately, but his mother—ever vigilant—beat him there. As he approached, he could hear her questioning Anna.
“Excuse me for being so forward, but you do look familiar to me. Have you stayed here before?” Cynthia asked.
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