illness. He doesn’t deserve any more misery in his life.”
“And that’s your considered opinion?”
“Of course it is. Look, you don’t know him. You probably barely remember him. Whatever happened in the past is past. It can’t be undone. Can’t you put it aside and consider what it would mean to him to make amends with you now?”
Judd stared at her for a moment, his expression not giving any sign of what he might be thinking. The knot of dread tightened even further.
Put the past behind him? Did she have even the faintest idea what she was asking? Of course she didn’t. She hadn’t been torn from the father who had adored him one minute and then refused to look at him the next. She hadn’t been transplanted into another family, another world, and been told to “man up” because his mother expected him to be strong. He’d lost count of the number of times he’d watched cars arrive at The Masters’ and hoped against hope that his father would alight from one of them. That he’d come to say it had all been a mistake.
But what his six-year-old heart had wished for had never happened and, in time, he’d learned not to scan the parents’ faces at school events for the man whose features he’d always been told were an older version of his own. He’d learned to inure himself from the hope that one day his life would return to what it had been before.
And it had made him a stronger man. A man who knew that the only person he could, or should, rely upon was himself.
His first instinct on reading his father’s entreaty was to ball it up and to tell Anna to take it back to Charles-bloody-Wilson and to tell the old man to put it where the sun doesn’t shine. But then rationality overrode the deviation into emotionalism.
Without realizing it, his long-estranged father had actually given Judd the opportunity he’d quietly dreamed of for many a year—payback. Not only for rejecting the son who’d so earnestly idolized him, but for what he’d done to Cynthia.
Judd had heard the story from his mother more times than he could count—after pulling her away from her home and her family, Charles had neglected her. Ignored her. Prioritized every concern over and above his relationship with his wife. And when Cynthia, in her loneliness and frustration, had started spending more time away from home, trying to find friends and activities to fill the void left by her husband’s absence, Charles had turned into a possessive monster, constantly jealous and utterly convinced she was cheating on him.
It had all culminated in the fight that had led Charles to kick Judd and his mother out of the house. And that was the last Judd had seen of his father. There had been no phone calls. No letters. No visits. Charles had clearly washed his hands of both of them for the past twenty-five years.
And now, this was Judd’s chance to pay him back in kind for all the pain he and his mother had suffered. With the controlling interest in the company, Charles was placing the weapons right into his hands. Everything his mother had told him about the past had shown Charles up for a man who’d always put his business before his family. Judd knew exactly where to strike to cause the most pain, to exact the deepest satisfaction.
He needed time to think, to consolidate the plans burgeoning in his mind, but he had no doubt that he’d shortly be accepting his father’s offer. No doubt at all.
He looked over at Anna—his eyes raking over her and taking in the lustrous length of her hair, her exquisite beauty, her enticing feminine curves. She was all woman from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. Even now, as angry as he was, she still had the capacity to excite him, to incite within him the desire to possess her in every manner of the word.
A tug of regret pulled deep inside. His mother’s warning had done little to dim his attraction to Anna, but the letter had cast a whole new light on things. Maybe her reluctance to deliver it to him had its basis in something other than what she’d admitted. Maybe she was worried about what his entry back into his father’s life would do to affect her position there and what she stood to gain from Charles Wilson after his death. Charles had chosen her as his ambassador in his attempt at reunion, so he obviously trusted her implicitly. By her own admission she said she and the old man were close—that she cared for him deeply. How close, exactly? Were they lovers, as his mother suspected? If that was true, it would no doubt give him a double-edged sense of satisfaction when he eventually seduced her.
But as with everything else, it would wait until the time was perfectly right. For now, he wanted her away from The Masters’ and somewhere else, where she could do no harm.
He gestured to the food before them.
“Are you going to eat that?”
She shook her head. “I couldn’t, not now.”
“Let’s go, then.”
“Back to the vineyard?”
“To get your things, yes, and then to take you into the city.”
“The city?”
“To a hotel. It may surprise you, but funnily enough, I don’t want you around my family right now. My mother’s been through quite enough over the years without adding the insult of your presence.”
She flinched beneath his words, her face paling even more.
“Fine,” she replied tightly. “When will you let me know your decision about Charles?”
“In good time. You aren’t due to return to Auckland for another few days, is that correct?”
“Yes, on Friday morning.”
“I’ll let you know by then.”
Anna paced the terrace of her hotel room, her cell phone to her ear.
“I’m sorry, Charles. I screwed up. I should have just done what you told me to do.”
Charles was surprisingly philosophical.
“What’s done is done. It’s certainly no worse or better than what’s gone on before this. Let’s just hope he comes to his senses and comes home before it’s too late.”
Before it’s too late. Her heart squeezed. It wasn’t like Charles to be melodramatic. She knew he was deteriorating, but had he kept something from her? Was his health worse than even she suspected?
“I still can’t believe you’re prepared to go to those lengths to bring him home.”
“It’s his birthright, Anna. You know that as much as I do.”
“But what about Nicole? Have you talked to her about this yet?”
“I wasn’t going to say anything to her until he’s back and we know for certain he’s mine. Until then, it’s a moot point. And you’re not to say a word, either. You promised me, Anna.”
She sighed. “Yes, I know. I won’t say a word, but keeping the truth away from her is only going to hurt all of us.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“And the house, Charles. Why the house, too? You’re talking about taking Nicole’s home right out from under her feet.”
“Yours,
