to even try and cut the awful man down to size, she’d remained silent as he’d admitted that her grandfather was not at all happy about the situation.
‘With Antonio Ramirez well and truly on the war-path, Sir Robert says that we’ve got to find that shipment, as fast as possible. Apparently the guy is a lawyer. And you know what they’re like—never happier than when suing the socks off rich companies like your grandpa’s! So, you’d better go through all the bills of lading with a fine-tooth comb. Or it could be you for the high jump,’ he’d added with relish, before putting down the phone.
Still feeling stunned by the news of Antonio’s direct involvement in his family’s huge wine-making business, Gina took a deep breath.
It was no good sitting here at her desk in a complete daze, feeling as if she’d been suddenly hit very hard by a blow to the solar plexus, she told herself, brushing a shaky hand through her long, pale blond hair. She was really going to have to pull herself together—and try to get a firm grip on the situation.
After all…it was eight years since she’d seen hide or hair of the man with whom she’d fallen so desperately in love. But she’d been only eighteen at the time, for heaven’s sake. And young girls were always falling in and out of love, with the most unsuitable men. It happened all the time. Besides, she’d had lots of boyfriends since then. And if none of them had ever caused the slightest dent in her heart? Well, she had plenty of time in hand before she needed to start worrying about finding Mr Right!
As branch manager of a large wine merchant’s business she was used to dealing with the various fine sherries bearing the Bodega Ramirez label. So why get in such a panic just because this was the first time she’d heard any mention of Antonio’s name?
What was more…if she’d ever stopped to think about it she ought to have known that sooner or later he was bound to succeed his uncle in the business. Just as she was due, eventually, to take over her grandfather’s large, prestigious business.
Founded in 1791 by her ancestor, Captain James Brandon—who, after retiring from the navy and marrying a rich Spanish widow, had begun importing and blending high-quality sherry and wine from her family’s vineyards near Cadiz—Brandon’s of Pall Mall was now one of the oldest and most successful wine merchants in the country. Moreover, the ever-increasing value of the property owned by the family, particularly the large buildings situated in such an expensive area of London, was now enormous.
Handed down over the generations from father to son, the chain had been cruelly broken with the tragically early death of her parents in a car accident, when Gina had been only a little girl. Since her father had been an only child, she’d been raised by her grandparents, always knowing that she was the sole heiress to the family business.
Unfortunately, her increasingly desperate prayers each night—that her dear grandfather would remain at the helm for many years to come—were looking increasingly unlikely to be answered. He’d never really recovered from the death of her beloved grandmother, five years ago, and appeared to be growing more frail in body, if not in spirit, with each passing day. And she dreaded the prospect of having to take over the running of the business in the near future.
On the other hand, her grandfather had certainly done all he could to give her a good grounding in the wine trade. He’d been pleased when she had developed a good ‘nose’ and palate, and delighted when she’d passed the necessary exams to become a Master of Wine. And now, with her recent appointment as manager of the firm’s Ipswich shop and warehouse, she was in the process of gaining valuable business experience.
But there was no getting away from the fact that she was only twenty-six. And there was a world of difference between running a small branch and managing a large international corporation.
However, all that lay in the future. In the meantime she had to do her best to try and forget her past, very brief relationship with Antonio Ramirez—and start looking for his missing wine shipment!
But as it turned out that was easier said than done.
Four days later, and despite an exhaustive search of the shop, warehouse and old cellars, Gina still hadn’t found any trace of the Spanish consignment. Moreover, having checked and double-checked the current bills of lading, she’d drawn a complete blank there, as well. So, wherever the missing shipment had got to, it definitely wasn’t in Suffolk!
Unfortunately, it seemed that the news about Antonio Ramirez had prompted the return of that utterly hideous dream…the dreadful nightmare which had repeatedly plagued her late teens and made her life a misery for such a long time. For the past few days she’d found herself waking up after a disturbed, restless sleep, drenched in perspiration and trembling with deep shame and embarrassment.
Goodness knows, she’d done her best to bury those unhappy memories of when she’d obviously been far too young and innocent to understand the harsh realities of life. Which made it all the more maddening now to discover that Antonio’s dark, highly dangerous figure had only been lurking just out of sight—hidden for the past eight years, somewhere within her subconscious, so that merely the mention of his name had brought him—and total recollection of that time in her life—sharply back to the surface of her mind once again.
Which was utterly daft! She’d got over him years ago. To let herself get into such a state was totally pathetic, Gina railed at herself angrily. But, although talking sternly to herself hadn’t yet solved the problem, she knew that sooner or later the dreams would stop, and she could get back to her usual, mentally well-adjusted way of life.
All of which was sensible advice, Gina was telling herself firmly, late on Thursday morning, when the phone on her desk gave a sharp ring.
‘Hi, Grandpa… Yes, yes, everything’s fine,’ she quickly assured the old man. ‘No, I’m sorry. There’s no trace of that shipment. I’ve been through every scrap of paperwork here in the office, and I can’t find anything at all.’
‘I’m afraid that’s irrelevant now, since a representative of the Spanish firm is insisting on checking the stock in the warehouse,’ Sir Robert Brandon’s thin, reedy voice informed her.
‘Well—that’s a total waste of time,’ she retorted. ‘I know we haven’t got it. I mean, we could hardly miss a shipment of that size, could we?’
‘Nevertheless, I have Antonio Ramirez sitting in my outer office, here in London…’
‘What?’
‘…and I expect him to be with you either late in the afternoon or early this evening.’
‘But…but…the office will be closed by then!’ she retorted breathlessly, her knuckles whitening as she tightly gripped the phone. ‘I mean, what’s the point of him coming all the way up here and…and not being able to look for his beastly wine?’
‘Really, Gina!’ her grandfather protested. ‘What on earth has come over you? I sincerely hope that I can rely on you to treat Don Antonio with every courtesy?’
‘Yes…yes, of course. I’m sorry,’ she mumbled helplessly, feeling totally stunned and somehow unable to stop herself trembling, as if in the grip of a raging fever.
‘Oh, Lord! I’ve just realised…’ she added hurriedly. ‘If he’s going to be arriving that late I’d better book him into one of the local country house hotels. Maybe Hintlesham Hall? The food is really excellent, and…’
‘My dear girl—what is wrong with
