Blush - Jamie Brenner Page 0,65

waves of pleasure through her entire body. Her response kissing him back—immediate, ardent, instinctive—encouraged him to pull her close, to press his body against hers in a way that gave a thrilling suggestion of what lay beyond the kiss. She wanted him more than she’d ever wanted anything physically in her life. Everything else was forgotten: The vineyard. Delphine. Leonard. The kids. Even, in a sense, her very self. There was only, in that moment, need. His touch thrilled her and scared her in its absolute authority over her senses. He untied her scarf, his fingers brushing her neck as the whisper of silk fell to the ground. Then he kissed her collarbone and unbuttoned her dress, his hands on her body as no one but Leonard had ever touched her.

It had been so long since she had been anything other than a dutiful wife, a grape farmer, a mother. And maybe she’d never been what she was under the soft pressure of the baron’s lips—just a woman in the heat of a moment that would burn bright, then disappear, like the flash of a camera. What was so wrong in that? She could almost convince herself that there wasn’t anything wrong with it. She wanted so badly to allow herself this. But then they were down on the ground, their naked bodies entwined but not yet one. She looked up at the vaulted ceiling of the stable Leonard had built for her, despite the impracticality of having horses at the vineyard. The thought was like a splash of cold water. Her husband loved her. She loved him.

Vivian pulled away from the baron.

“I’m sorry. I can’t,” she said.

“Can’t? We are,” he said.

She stood up, pulling her dress in front of herself.

“You and my husband are business partners.”

“Maybe not,” the baron said. “He just fired my niece.”

“What? You just said you understood—that you would have done the same thing.”

“My mind could change. Besides, this whole venture had been to please Natasha. Clearly, that’s no longer a priority. So now I have to wonder: What’s in it for me?”

He couldn’t be serious. “Is that a threat?”

The baron’s steely gaze was all the answer she needed. She dressed quickly and fled the stable. She hoped that would be the end of it. But it wasn’t.

Now, sitting in the crisis meeting, she felt a crushing sense of culpability.

“So what can we do?” Vivian said, her mouth dry.

“It’s all hands on deck,” said Leonard. “And that includes Sadie. I want that granddaughter of mine to help out around here. There’s too much work to be done to have her drifting around with her nose in a book all summer.” He turned to Leah. “You were in the field at her age.”

Yes, Vivian thought. And a year later, you cast her out.

But Leonard was not entirely to blame. She couldn’t help but wonder if they would be in a different situation today if that afternoon in the stables hadn’t happened.

She’d never know.

Thirty

Leah wasn’t a big proponent of day drinking, but after that meeting, she was willing to bend the rules. She sat at the bar in the tasting room, alongside three couples. A cork popped, and the tasting room manager poured a flight of reds.

“This is the first red we make every year,” he said. “This is your Monday through Thursday red, your training wheels red.”

“I can taste the pepper in this one.”

“Goes well with barbecue,” said the tasting room manager. “And this is our Malbec: note its deep purple color. It has a great mouthfeel, great finish.”

He was good at his job; all of the winery and vineyard staff were. While her mother was clearly relieved about the buyers backing out of the deal, Leah knew it was just delaying the inevitable. Leonard would not change his mind about selling.

Still, it was only July. What if they had the best summer of all time—a summer to make Leonard believe in the ability to turn things around? They might still be losing money, but if things at least started to head in the right direction, it could give him hope. The question was, what could she do quickly, in the short term, to increase revenue?

“Well, that was fun,” Asher said, sliding onto the stool next to her.

“What a nightmare,” Leah said.

“You ran off pretty fast.” Asher signaled for a glass of wine.

“I mean, what was there left to say?” Leah said.

The manager made his way to their end of the bar, already opening a bottle of