Passionate Harvest (4 page)

“I lost my balance. I never was very good at climbing.” Her cheeks were on fire with mortification.

“My fault, we should have gone the longer way round.” He called his dog to heel.

Lucy realised they were standing opposite a small farm cottage built of old red bricks. The white framed windows were glazed with latticed glass and a purple flowered wisteria tumbled around a small tiled canopy above the front door. A gravelled space for his car was at the side of the house.

Dominic led the way to the rear of the cottage, passing some semi derelict outbuildings and a small empty cedar greenhouse. He tugged a key from his pocket and opened the back door of the house.

“Go on in, help yourself to whatever you need to get cleaned up. I need to go take care of Mutley.” The dog’s tail picked up speed at the sound of his name and more mud flew from his coat.

Dominic glared at his pet and Lucy had to bite on her lip to keep from laughing out loud at the expression on his face.

“Thanks.” She slipped through the doorway to find she had entered the house via a small boot room. A couple of ancient green waterproof jackets hung from hooks on the cream painted walls above a small rack full of large male boots and shoes. She stepped out of her own canvas wedges, now almost barely recognisable as the pretty shoes they had been when Dominic had called for her earlier in the day. The worn red quarry tiles of the floor were cool against the soles of her feet as she padded through into the small kitchen.

 A used cereal bowl and spoon stood soaking in the white butler sink but apart from that there was no evidence of human occupation. The tea towels hung pristine from the rail on the front of the Aga, no crumbs were on the dark grey marble counter tops, no mug next to the shiny chrome kettle.

She untied her sweater from around her waist and placed it next to her bag on the kitchen table. A large green grass stain marked the one sleeve and she guessed she’d acquired that damage during her fall from the top of the gate. Looking down at her tee shirt she discovered it too was now patterned with tiny brown spots from Dominic’s dog. The mud patches on her thighs had started to dry and were crusting in light brown ridges around the edges of the marks. Large grass stains matching the one on her sweater adorned her lower legs along with yet more speckles of mud.

Lucy peered at her reflection in the shiny surface of the kettle and was relieved to see that at least the mud spots didn’t appear to have decorated her face. She turned on the taps and washed her hands, debating if it was worth attempting any kind of clean up on her jeans.

Outside in the garden Mutley’s barks and muffled shouts from Dominic mixed with the sound of water running from a hosepipe. She leaned across the sink to try and see what was happening only to jump back with a gasp as the cold tap hiccoughed, soaking the front of her tee shirt. Grabbing one of the tea towels from the stove, she dabbed at her front trying to dry herself off.

“I’m as wet as the damn dog.” Dominic walked into the kitchen unbuttoning his wet shirt as he entered the room. “What happened to you?”

She tried to ignore the unwanted rush of heat that coiled low in her abdomen at the glimpse of the hard, flat muscles of his chest. 

“Accident with the tap.” She abandoned her attempt to dry off with the tea towel and resigned herself to being wet, muddy, cold and hungry. From the way Dominic was staring at her wet top, she’d better add embarrassed as well.

He caught her gaze as she crossed her arms defensively across her chest and dull colour tinged his cheekbones.

“I’d better get changed. I’ll be back down in a couple of minutes. Can you keep an eye on Mutley? He tries to sneak in if he thinks I’m not looking.” Dominic headed past her through the door at the far end of the kitchen and a few seconds later she heard his footsteps ascending the stairs. Scrubbing at her bare arms to dispel the goose pimples she risked another peep through the window, although this time she made sure the taps were off.

The garden was small but pretty with a couple of fruit trees and spring flowers gleaming like tiny jewels in the borders. Mutley sat under a blossom tree swathed in a large ancient dark blue towel. As soon as he saw her at the window however he stood and shook himself free before racing towards the back door of the cottage. It was exactly a fraction of a second later that Lucy realised that Dominic hadn’t properly closed the back door.

She reached the door at the same time as the dog. The next thing she knew she was flat on her back on the boot room floor with Mutley lovingly trying to lick her face again. She attempted to fend off the dog and wipe drool from her face whilst trying to get to her feet.

“Mutley! Outside!”

The dog gave her a last lick around her ear, then obeyed Dominic’s command. Dominic stepped over her to close the back door once the dog was gone before helping Lucy to her feet. 

He grasped her hand and hauled her to her feet. Standing so close to him without her shoes the top of her head was level with his chin and she had to tilt her chin to meet his gaze. Electricity crackled like static between them. He’d changed his dirty corduroy trousers and check shirt for a pair of faded jeans and a fitted black tee shirt. Somehow in the few minutes he’d been upstairs he’d found time to wash too, the lemony clean scent of his soap tickled her nose.

“Mutley’s really taken to you. Normally, he’s quite wary around strangers.” 

She snatched her hand away, the skin tingling from where Dominic had helped her up. The sensations made her feel breathless and out of control. 

“So I should be flattered?” She’d had enough for one day, every bit of her ached, she was starving hungry and Dominic seemed to think she should be pleased that his dog had just trampled her. Her butt hurt from the crash landing on the tiled floor and her face felt icky with dog drool. If this was the dog liking her, then he probably ate the people he didn’t like.

“Okay, it’s not the best compliment in the world.” The corner of Dominic’s mouth lifted in a smile transforming and softening his features. “I’m sorry. I left a tee shirt and a clean towel in the bathroom for you. Go on upstairs and clean up. I’ll make us some lunch.”

“Thank you.” His unexpected thoughtfulness took some of the steam out of her annoyance.

“Bathroom is facing you at the top of the stairs.” He stood to one side to allow her to pass.

Lucy slowly made her way along the small hallway, stealing a glance through the open door of the lounge as she passed by. It was a cosy room with an attractive brick fireplace. It was exactly the kind of room you could cuddle up in on a cold winter’s night with the wind roaring over the chimney tops and a hot guy to keep you warm.

The image that popped into her head made her scurry up the stairs and into the small but functional bathroom. Dominic had been as good as his word. A white cotton tee shirt lay draped on the towel rail next to a fresh white fluffy towel. She stared at her reflection in the mirror and sighed. As Maggie would say, she looked like something the cat had dragged in, except, in her case she was something the large dog had flattened.

After a quick wash with the same deliciously scented soap she’d smelled on Dominic, and wearing his over large clean tee shirt, she felt better. She replaced the towel on the rail and collected her dirty top to take back downstairs. As she left the bathroom she noticed the door to his bedroom was ajar, and, like she’d done with the lounge downstairs, she couldn’t resist taking a quick look.

The room was curiously bare and tidy. White painted walls, a large pine chest of drawers, wardrobe and a huge bed covered in a plain dark blue quilt. She shook her head briskly to clear it of the image that had formed in her mind of Dominic, sinfully naked mussing up the pristine covers. No pictures, ornaments or photographs relieved the emptiness of the room. Dominic must take minimalism to a new level she mused and headed back to the kitchen.

She entered the kitchen to find Dominic busy assembling sandwiches at the countertop.

He didn’t look up from his task. “I forgot to ask if you were vegetarian?”

Lucy shook her head. “No, I was for a while when I was younger but Aunt Maggie cooks a mean bacon sandwich.”

Her stomach growled at the memory and she discreetly prodded her middle in a bid to make it stop, hoping he hadn’t heard it.

“I made you a mug of tea, there’s sugar in the jar if you want it.” He inclined his head towards the kettle.

“You must have read my mind. I’m dying for a cup of tea.” She wrapped her fingers around the chunky green mug and sipped the steaming liquid.

Dominic placed the top slice of bread on the sandwiches and cut them through. “I thought we’d eat in here.” He placed the plates down on the small pine table and drew out a chair for her.

Lucy took a seat as her stomach growled again.

“Hungry?” Dominic took the chair opposite hers.

She stared at him mid bite and nodded her head.

“It’s only ham, cheese and salad. I’d planned on eating lunch in the restaurant so you could try the food there.” A flicker of a smile appeared on his face. “I think after the morning’s adventures we’d better save that for another day.”

“I might be more appropriately dressed then.” She smiled back at him and hitched the tee shirt he’d lent her back up onto her shoulder from where it had started to slide. Sitting at the tiny table, wearing his clothes with her bare feet resting on the wooden crossbar of her chair felt strangely intimate. She wondered if he had a woman in his life, someone who he made sandwiches for and who would wander around his home in her bare feet. His voice jerked her out of her daydream.

“Now you’ve seen some of the vineyard operations have you had any thoughts on whether you might be interested in working here for the next twelve months?”

His voice was even, betraying nothing about his feelings towards her, if he wanted her to take up her inheritance. 

Lucy swallowed her bite of sandwich, flustered by the direction of her recent thoughts. “I’m not sure yet. I think I need to see the rest of the layout and I want to look at the finances with the accountant and Mr Fullwood.” She’d been turning over in her head what she should do about her bequest all morning. Moving back to England and starting a new career was an enormous decision to make.

She noticed the small start of surprise in his eyes when she mentioned the accounts even though his expression didn’t change. Clearly he hadn’t been expecting her to be so businesslike.

“That sounds very sensible.”

Lucy was aware of the undercurrents swirling between them. She knew he would rather she had been able to sell him her shares instead of having her work alongside him at the vineyard for the next twelve months. 

“Have you always worked in child care?” The question took her by surprise as she’d drifted off momentarily once again in thoughts about her future.

She nibbled a bit more of her sandwich before answering. “No, I’ve had quite a few different jobs before I ended up working for the tour company.”

Quite a few was something of an understatement, she’d done everything from sweeping up hair in a hairdressers to filing and secretarial work for an estate agent. She’d travelled and drifted, never settling to anything in particular. The job she had now, managing the children’s club was the longest she’d worked anywhere. Nick and Maggie had been urging her to settle down for quite a while, and hadn’t Maggie said that was why Uncle Nick had written the twelve months condition into his will?

“Nick’s role in the company involved marketing our produce and liaising with suppliers and distributers.” Dominic leaned his elbows on the table and templed his hands beneath his chin. “My role in the partnership is concerned with the actual production of the wine. We worked together on the site development. Nick was the ideas man. I managed the practicalities of those ideas.”

“So what will happen now?” Lucy finished the last bite of her lunch. Surely he didn’t think she could take on Nick’s role. There were probably aspects of it that she could tackle but for the last three months the only management skills she’d employed had been used to shepherd groups of under fives to the toilets.

“If you decide to take up your inheritance then that’s something we would have to work out.” His ice blue gaze locked on her face.

She pushed away her empty plate. “Well, I’m sure we’d be able to come to some sort of agreement.”

For an instant she thought she detected a glimmer of amusement. “Yes, there’ll be a lot to discuss.” He permitted himself a smile and Lucy’s heart rate skittered.

“I should get back to Aunt Maggie’s. I think I need a bath and a change of clothes.” She winced as she stood, the muscles of her thighs had tightened whilst she’d been seated eating her lunch.

“Perhaps you can come again tomorrow and finish the tour. There’s still a lot for you to see.” He suggested as he carried the empty plates and mugs across to the sink.

Lucy rubbed the tops of her thighs trying to ease the discomfort. “If you promise there’ll be less walking.”

“Definitely less, you only have the offices, the restaurant, shop, winery, stores and the courtyard plans still to look at.” He watched, a frown creasing his forehead, as Lucy hobbled to the entrance of the boot room. “Sit down and put on your shoes, I’ll walk across and bring the car round.” He collected his keys and she heard him whistle his dog as he left the cottage.

She collected the remains of her once lovely canvas wedges from the boot room and put them back on. By the time she’d picked up her dirty top and ruined sweater the crunch of car tyres on the gravel outside told her that Dominic was back.

“Are you ready to go?” He opened the kitchen door.

“All set. What have you done with the dog?” She peered warily around him, half expecting Mutley to come bounding towards her again.

“Don’t worry. He’s in the car, behind his dog guard.” He flashed another one of the smiles that transformed his face and did dangerous things to her heart.

Lucy heaved herself into his car with a secret sigh of relief. She would be glad to get back to Maggie’s. There was a long soak in the bath calling her name, and maybe once she was immersed in warm sweet-smelling bubbles she would be able to sort out her plans for the future.