was only one way for Angelina to have all her questions answered. And that was to ask them. Given she’d been going to try to contact Jake anyway in the near future, it seemed silly to pass up this opportunity.
Yet some inner instinct was warning her to do just that, to not let this man back into her life. Not till Alex gave her no choice.
She searched Jake’s face for a hint of the man he’d become, then wished she hadn’t. The sexual power of his eyes was as strong as ever.
There was no use pretending she could just coldly send him away. She had to at least talk to him. Fortunately, she wouldn’t be alone with him. This Mrs Landsdale would be there as a buffer. And a safeguard.
‘We don’t actually serve afternoon tea,’ she said. ‘But the restaurant doesn’t close for lunch till four. You are quite welcome to come back after you’ve inspected this property, if you like. We could have a chat over coffee.’
‘I’d like that,’ Jake returned. ‘Give me an opportunity to find out what you’ve been up to all these years.’
‘Same here,’ she replied, pleased that she could sound unconcerned, when inside she was severely agitated. ‘Now, since time is of the essence, perhaps you might like to have a quick look at the menu and give me your full order straight away. Either that, or I could take your drinks order now, then send a girl over in a couple of minutes for your meal order.’
‘No, no, we’ll order everything right now,’ the grey-haired lady said and fell to examining the menu. ‘Jake, you decide on the drinks whilst I make up my mind on the food. You know my taste in wine.’
‘I see you have a suggested glass of a different Ambrosia wine with each course,’ Jake said as he examined the menu. ‘You know, Angelina…’ he rested the menu on the edge of the table and glanced up at her ‘…I’ve never seen any Ambrosia wines in bottle shops, or on Sydney restaurant wine lists. Why is that?’
‘Oh. We—er—export most of our wine. Here in Australia, we’ve only been selling bottles at the cellar door. Up till now, that is. Ambrosia Wines does have a booth at next weekend’s food and wine expo at Darling Harbour, so hopefully we will be in some Sydney restaurants soon.’
‘I see.’ Jake dropped his eyes and picked up the menu again. ‘These suggested glasses should suit you, Dorothy. You like to try different wines. But I won’t indulge myself. Not when I’m driving. So just mineral water for me, thanks, Angelina.’
‘Flat or sparkling?’ Angelina asked crisply, having extracted her order book and Biro from her skirt pocket.
‘Sparkling, I think,’ he replied. ‘To match my mood.’ And he threw her a dazzling smile that sixteen years ago would have rattled her brains and sent her heartbeat into overdrive.
Angelina’s heart was still going pretty fast behind her ribs, but her brain hadn’t gone to total mush. She flashed him back what she considered was a brilliantly cool smile, the sort of smile she could never have produced at fifteen.
‘Sparkling mineral water,’ Angelina murmured as she jotted it down. ‘Now, what about your meal order?’
When she glanced up from her notebook again, she found Jake staring at her left hand—her ringless left hand. Her fingers tightened around the notebook.
‘You’re not married,’ he said, his tone startled.
‘No,’ she returned in what she hoped was a crisp, it’s-really-none-of-your-business tone. ‘I’m not.’
‘I can’t believe it! I thought you’d have half a dozen kids by now.’
‘And I thought you’d be in jail,’ she countered.
Mrs Landsdale laughed. ‘That’s telling you, Jake. Now, stop badgering the girl and just tell her what you want to eat for now. Keep the third degree till later. But I must warn you, dear, he’s the very devil when he starts questioning people. Not only is he not in jail these days, but he’s also a lawyer. And a very good one, too.’
Angelina wished her mouth hadn’t dropped open at this news. But Jake Winters…a lawyer?
‘Yes, I know,’ he remarked drily. ‘I don’t blame you for being surprised. Sometimes I’m a bit surprised myself. But Dorothy’s right. We’ll keep all this till later.’
Angelina digested this astonishing revelation with mixed emotions. Was this good news or bad news? She supposed it was a lot better than the father of her son being in jail. But a lawyer? She couldn’t think. Too many shocks in too short a time. Best she just get on with what she was doing and think about it later.
‘Have you made up your mind yet, Mrs Landsdale?’ she asked the grey-haired lady.
‘Do call me Dorothy,’ the woman returned with a warm smile. ‘And yes, I’ll have the Atlantic salmon. No entrée. I’ll save some room for that coconut pudding you mentioned. I’m very partial to coconut.’
‘Me, too,’ Angelina concurred. ‘And you, Jake? Made up your mind yet?’
‘The same. I’m easy.’
Angelina wanted to laugh. Easy? If there was one thing Jake Winters would never be, it was easy.
CHAPTER FOUR
SHORTLY after three, Jake jumped into his pride and joy and headed back towards the Ambrosia Estate.
Under normal circumstances, he would never leave Dorothy alone in the clutches of an eager real-estate agent on the verge of making a sale. But he could see within five minutes of Dorothy walking into that darned house that she was determined to have it. On top of that, his objections to her buying a property up here in the Hunter Valley had begun to wane.
The main reason for his change of heart lived less than a mile down this road.
Angelina Mastroianni. Unmarried, and more beautiful than ever.
Like a good wine, Angelina had only improved with age. Hard to believe she was thirty-two. She looked about twenty-five. If that.
Jake smiled when he thought of the way her big brown eyes had widened at the sight of him. Shock had mingled in their velvety depths with something else, that certain something which could not be mistaken.
She was still attracted to him, as he was still attracted to her. The sparks of sexual chemistry had flown between them all during lunch.
Frankly, Jake hadn’t wanted to leave. He’d enjoyed just looking at her as she served other people, her lush Italian figure straining seductively against the crisp white blouse and hip-hugging black skirt she was wearing, especially when she bent over a bit, which was often.
As he’d sipped his mineral water, he’d imagined removing that black clip from the back of her head and watching her glossy black waves tumble in glorious disarray around her slender shoulders. Between mouthfuls of Atlantic salmon, he’d thought about slipping open the pearly buttons of her blouse and peeling it back to reveal her full breasts, those breasts which had once filled his hands. More than once he’d stared at her plum-coloured mouth and wondered if she would still be as susceptible to his kisses as she’d once been.
He’d
