good as she was reputed to be. Call him proud, call him stubborn, but she was a sharp thorn in his memory...the hottest and yet strangest sexual encounter of his life.
And, despite being so young, she’d seen the writing on the wall. With all his degrees and experience, his ability to look into the heart of a business and pinpoint the bottlenecks and constraints, he’d been unable to do it for his own vineyard.
Talk about not being able to see the wood for the trees. Or, in his case, the grapes for the vines.
Owen placed his bottle on the coffee table and frowned. ‘What’s your beef with Jess Sherwood?’
‘Jess interned at St Sylve the summer I inherited this place. I was in the midst of getting divorced from Satan’s sister and I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want the responsibility of the vineyard, I was working all hours, and I was...’
‘Miserable?’ Kendall supplied when he hesitated. ‘Depressed, angry, shirty, despondent?’
Hell, he’d been entitled to lick his wounds. He’d always wanted to be part of a family, and had thought that Mercia was what he needed to realise that dream. And she’d promised exactly what he’d wanted to hear...family, roots, stability... What was important to him had seemed to be what was important to her. She’d done an excellent job of camouflaging her true agenda until they were hitched, and when he’d woken up three months later he’d found himself legally bound to a freedom-seeking, greedy, money-guzzling shrew. Over the next two years he’d come to the dawning realisation that he’d been well and truly screwed.
Again. And not in a good way. It still burned that he’d been stupid enough to be so comprehensively manipulated.
As a result he’d made the decision never to get involved in a serious relationship or to allow a woman to clean him out financially and emotionally again. While he’d been grateful to see the back of her, watching his lifelong dream of being part of a family fade had stung. A lot.
Luke narrowed his eyes at Kendall. ‘Do you want to hear about Jess Sherwood or not?’ he demanded. ‘She was as gorgeous as all hell and she knew it. Entitled, privileged, unbelievably annoying. I had barely been introduced to her and had only seen her around a time or two. Then she just barged into my office and proceeded to lecture me on my marketing department. She called them a herd of dinosaurs and threw all those marketing terms at my head. Told me what I was doing wrong and how to fix it.’
‘So you kicked her off the premises?’ Kendall grinned at Luke’s nod.
Owen grinned too. ‘She sounds like a pistol.’
‘Jess Sherwood is such a madam that she’ll gloat about being right, rub my face in the fact that St Sylve needs her—I need her. I just don’t want to have to cope with her.’
Especially if she’s still as sexy as she was. Luke didn’t tell them that he’d kissed her stupid and been kissed back.
‘So I don’t want to deal with her. Big personality clash.’
‘It was a long time ago,’ Owen pointed out. ‘You should at least have asked her to the briefing session to see what she says.’
‘No. I can’t work with her. So what’s the point of her quoting?’ Luke stated, knowing that he said it because if she was still anywhere as hot as she’d been when she was younger he’d have a hard time keeping his tongue from hitting the floor every time she walked into the room. His attraction to her memory was still, crazily, that strong.
It wasn’t like him. He had a calm, satisfying...arrangement with the owner of a wine store in the city. When either of them needed company, or sex, or a date to a function, the other was their ‘go-to’ person. No fuss, no expectation, no emotion—no imagining wild sex on his office desk in the afternoon sunlight...
Luke leaned forward and sent his friends a serious look. ‘Look, this isn’t about a business I’ve picked up and intend to flog. It’s about St Sylve—about getting it back to where it was as the premier vineyard in the country. It’s hard enough dealing with the situation my father left me, let alone her.’
Over the years he’d tried to distance himself emotionally from the estate and the winery, but he still couldn’t manage to treat the multi-generational enterprise he’d inherited like any other arbitrary business.
It was his birthright—both his joy and his burden. His pleasure and his pain. A source of pride and an even bigger source of resentment. He loved and hated it with equal fervour.
‘I think you’re making a big mistake,’ Kendall insisted. ‘She’s a professional...’
‘End of discussion,’ Luke said genially, but he made sure that his friends heard the finality in his voice. He valued their opinions, but the decision rested with him. Jess Sherwood was the type of woman who upset apple carts, turned things on their heads, inside out. While he reluctantly accepted that she was probably exactly what St Sylve the business needed, it would be detrimental to him, to his calm and ordered life.
Just this once he was putting himself first...surely at thirty-six he was entitled to do that once in a while?
TWO
Jess, with Ally at her side, walked into the tasting room adjoining the St Sylve cellars, looked at the chairs set up in two perfectly aligned rows and sighed in relief when she didn’t see Luke Savage. Kendall De Villers, Luke’s right-hand man, looked very surprised when she introduced herself, and she saw a momentary flash of panic flick over his face before he smiled slowly.
‘Well, this is going to be interesting,’ he told her, with a wicked glint in his fantastic brown-black eyes.
‘Did he honestly think I wouldn’t hear about this or doesn’t he care?’ Jess bluntly asked.
‘Uh...’
Jess waved her question away. ‘Anywhere I can hide where he won’t see me? At least until he’s finished the briefing?’
Kendall lifted his eyebrows. ‘In that outfit? Not a chance in hell.’
Jess didn’t bother to look down. She was wearing a black, body-hugging wraparound dress, black suede heels that made her calves look fabulous and a long string of fake pearls. With her bright blonde hair and bold lipstick, she was as inconspicuous as a house on fire.
‘Where is he?’ Jess asked, looking around the room.
‘Probably doing something farmy...’ Kendall pushed back the sleeve on his immaculately tailored suit and glanced at his watch. ‘Take a seat. We should be starting soon.’
‘Rescue me if it looks like he’s about to kill me?’ she asked, only half joking.
Kendall grinned. ‘I’m not that brave. Sorry, sister, but you’re on your own.’
Jess took her seat next to the wall of the cellar, behind the broad shoulders of the creative director of Cooper & Co, and hoped Luke wouldn’t recognise her.
She leaned her shoulder into Ally’s and spoke in a low voice. ‘Have I lost my marbles?’
‘It’s a question that keeps me awake at night,’ Ally responded. ‘Why?’
