Red Red Wine (Tastes of Seduction) (3 page)

It had been so worth it. Not only did the dress look super-duper stunning on her, a perfect stranger had eyeballed her in the car park—and called her sexy. Besides, Declan seemed to like her new, improved body. He’d complimented her several times last week—the last time they’d been together.

Tori had insisted they not see each other again until the big wedding weekend.

“It’ll be sweeter when we do see each other,” she’d explained. “And way more exciting.”

He’d agreed, but then Declan agreed with everything Tori suggested. He’d agreed to live in her house after the wedding rather than the seaside penthouse he loved. A garden was essential for Tori because she had two dogs, and they needed the outdoor space to run. Declan wasn’t exactly a dog fan, but he’d agreed to live with them anyway, so long as they made Tori happy.

He’d also agreed to a wedding in the Hunter Valley, even though he’d have been more than happy with an appointment in front of a judge to get the whole thing done quickly. And while he’d never before seen children in his future, he’d agreed, when the time came, to have at least three because Tori wanted a big family.

A very agreeable man indeed. How could she not be head over heels in love? And that didn’t even cover the sheer magnetism of his hot bod. Her fiancé was stacked, looked unbelievable in a pair of undies and even better out. Just imagining him naked had her heart racing.

Although tempted a million times over, Tori didn’t dare pinch herself. If this was a dream, she never wanted to wake up.

“You’re looking great.” Vi gave her a critical once-over. “Bet Dec can’t wait to get his hands on you again.”

Dec.
Vi was the only one of her friends who called him that. But then Vi had known him a lot longer than she had. “I sure hope so. I kinda can’t wait to get my hands on him either.”

“Who wouldn’t want to get their hands on that scrumptious piece of rump?” her friend agreed.

“I know! It’s gorgeous, right?” She rubbed her hands together in mock anticipation. “Not much longer to wait now.” Declan was arriving at the hotel tonight, but Tori had made him swear to a no-touching policy until the wedding night—again, to make the night that much sweeter.

“You’ll hardly notice the time passing. We have a gazillion things organized for the next few days. Wine tours, vineyard tours, winery tours, oh, and wine-tasting tours.” Vi grinned. “Lots of variation. I think you’ll like them.”

“That doesn’t include the fact that I’m snatching you away from here tomorrow afternoon,” Janine said. “Mum and I have special plans for you.”

“Special?” Tori probed.

“Mm-hmm. Very special.”

“What are we doing?”

“Not telling. It’s a surprise.”

“You know I hate surprises.” Not really. She kind of loved them. “Tell me.”

“Nope, sorry. My lips are sealed. Mum made me promise.”

“Mu-um…” Tori gave her mother her best doe-eyed daughter look.

Her mother zipped her lips. “Not saying a word. But you’ll like it. I promise.”

She beamed at them. “I’ll like it more if you tell me.”

“You’ll like it anyway. Now go check in so we can start touring. The hotel has a driver and minibus all ready for us. First stop, McGuigan’s.”

Tori had to stop from licking her lips. McGuigan’s produced a Merlot she absolutely loved. One she hadn’t tasted for months, thanks to the pre-wedding diet.

Tori did just as her mother instructed, but unfortunately, this time when she reached for her bags, there was no handsome stranger to help her.

The woman at the front desk, Maria, insisted she leave all her luggage where it was, and it would be delivered to her room. Tori left everything except the wedding dress. That needed to be hung up as soon as possible.

She was led to a beautiful suite, complete with spa bath and four-poster, king-size bed. The table in the small lounge was topped with a cellophane-wrapped basket filled with sparkling wine, fruit, nuts and chocolate, all compliments of the hotel, in honor of the special weekend.

Before leaving her alone, the hotel receptionist handed her a bottle of red she’d been holding. “And this is for you too. A gift from Mr. Stafford. It’s our estate special.”

Tori shook her head blankly as she stared at the wine.

Rolling Hills Estate Wine

“Twist of Fate”

Cabernet Merlot

Who on earth was Mr. Stafford?

Obviously noticing her confusion, Maria supplied helpfully, “The man you walked in with from the car park? That Mr. Stafford.”

Tori’s jaw dropped. The hottie from the car park?

She took just enough time to thank Maria and hang the dress in the spacious closet before curiosity got the better of her and she picked up the wine again.

The bottle was striking, boasting a white label with two painted hills that looked like a Monet original. The writing was done in a sloping maroon font.

She tugged at the handwritten note taped to the side.

To the sexiest—and happiest—woman in the Hunter Valley.

Congratulations on your wedding.

I hope every day after this one is perfect for you.

Andrew

Tori’s heart gave a little extra thump.

Honestly, if she wasn’t about to marry the man of her dreams, she’d make a very special detour to Andrew’s room to thank him personally.

The vineyard tour turned out to be a huge success. The wine was delicious and the company even better. Laughter and drink ran freely, and Janine made a rule that anytime a glass was lifted, a toast had to be made to the bride.

Which meant hundreds of toasts were made, and Tori’s smile grew bigger with every sip.

Her mother tut-tutted about the shape of her nails, insisting she have a manicure before the big day. Her hefty aunt Alice worried she might have lost too much weight, and Janine told her she was looking so hot, Declan wouldn’t be able to wait until after the reception to get her into bed.

Violet teased her about her clothes, which she hadn’t changed before leaving on the tour. “You look about twelve in those tiny shorts. It’s a miracle you weren’t asked for ID before they let you taste the wine.”

“Ah, but at least I’m wearing practical shoes,” she teased back, showing Vi her thongs. “I won’t kill myself walking through the vineyard in six-inch heels.” She winked. “Nice shoes, by the way.” Very nice. Tori had chosen the sexy, strappy red sandals herself. And paid for them—but hadn’t had a chance to wear them. Her friend had borrowed them the next day and then shamelessly refused to return them.

Which suited Tori just fine, since she’d kept the gorgeous mini Vi had bought on the same shopping trip. It was packed in one of her bags.

Hours later, when the tour was over and the sun had set, and when Tori had had a chance to think clearly, she kind of wished she’d been asked to show her ID. Perhaps if someone had stopped her, or encouraged her to think twice before tasting all the wines, she’d never have drunk so much, never have gotten so tipsy, and as a result, never have acted so impulsively. But what was that cliché about hindsight and twenty/twenty vision?

Besides, it wasn’t just the wine she blamed for what happened at sixteen minutes after seven o’ clock that same evening. Andrew Stafford was just as responsible.

If the sexy stranger had never helped her with her bags, she’d never have stopped to thank him for his gift when she bumped into him after the wine-tasting tour. And she’d never have been charmed for the second time by the gracious, gorgeous man. Nor would she have gotten another look at his ass and declared that he’d been wrong earlier. She definitely didn’t have the sexiest butt in the Hunter Valley. He did.

She knew as the bride-to-be she should have kept her mouth shut and suspended her judgment, but the wine had loosened her tongue, and complimenting him on his fine ass had seemed totally appropriate at the time.

Andrew’s only response to her declaration?

“It’s a damn pity you’ll never get to see it naked.” Said with a charming wink and a smile, of course.

Tori agreed. It was a damn pity. Still, she was about to marry the owner of the second sexiest ass in the Hunter, so she wasn’t exactly fussed. Aroused and horny, yes. Fussed, no.

After that meeting, Tori had given in to temptation and set off to hunt down her groom.

She hadn’t seen him in ten days.

Yes, that might have been a result of her doing, but she couldn’t wait another minute. And honestly, they were about to be married. Why shouldn’t she see him? She slipped down to reception, cajoled Maria into giving her a key card to Declan’s suite and snuck up to the second floor to his room. She scanned the card and opened the door, tiptoeing inside.

Which was exactly how, at sixteen minutes after seven, she came to rue the second meeting with Andrew and the wine she’d consumed that afternoon.

Declan wasn’t there, but the sound of water running told her he was showering in the en-suite bathroom. Intent on losing all her clothes before Declan walked back into the room, she stumbled to the bed, more than a little giddy from her wine consumption, and sat right beside Declan’s computer.

Trust him to have his laptop open two days before his wedding, in this stunning setting. The man worked constantly. Why should a wedding put an end to that?

As she sat, his computer dinged.

Tori was so used to hearing the ding, she knew immediately it was his instant messenger. She also knew it was Noah, Declan’s business partner, because when the two weren’t together at the office, they were chatting on IM.

NoaM: Yo, mate, you there?

Had she not been a little tipsy, Tori would never have responded.

DecMur: I am

She hit send before she added it was Tori typing.

NoaM: Flights are confirmed. You leave this Saturday at 1pm. Be at airport two hours before.

Leave for where? Declan couldn’t go anywhere on Saturday at one. He was getting married three hours later.

DecMur: You sure about that?

NoaM:
Positive. Last minute, so only one seat available on flight. Couldn’t get you on business class. Flying premium economy.

DecMur: Uh…

NoaM: Uh…as in second thoughts?

The air around her seemed to thin, making breathing difficult.

DecMur: Should there be second thoughts?

NoaM: Abnormal if there weren’t at a time like this.

Tori’s heart sat in her throat. Second thoughts? About what?

NoaM: I know you hate this, but it’s the right thing to do.

What the…?

She stared at the screen, stumped. Noah made absolutely no sense. He couldn’t possibly be talking about this coming Saturday.

NoaM: You still beating yourself up?

NoaM: Still feel like crap?

NoaM: You can’t marry her, mate. We both know it.

The blood drained right out of Tori’s face. And hands. It took a good few seconds before she found the strength to lift her arms and type a shaky response, and when she did, it was with the firm belief Noah was very, very confused. Perhaps even delusional. Not only could Declan marry her, he
was
marrying her. In two days’ time.

DecMur: I can’t?

NoaM: You can’t. Not if you’re not in love with her. And let’s face it…

DecMur: I’m not in love with her

Tori meant to add a question mark, but grammar and punctuation just weren’t a top priority right then.

NoaM: I know.

Nausea slammed into her, and Tori almost threw up on Declan’s computer. The lightheadedness she’d felt minutes ago was replaced by a spiraling dizziness. She dropped her head in her hand and gasped for air.

The computer dinged and dinged again and then again.

He didn’t love her.

He couldn’t marry her.

Declan was leaving her to board a plane—three hours before the wedding.

She lifted her head and blinked several times, finally drawing oxygen into her lungs. But her eyes weren’t working. She couldn’t seem to focus them. Couldn’t seem to see. She rubbed them, hard, and blinked a few more times until the words on the screen began to make sense again

NoaM: Have you seen Tori?

NoaM: Fuck, telling her is gonna be a bitch.

NoaM: I don’t envy you.

NoaM: Did I mention your timing sucks? Two days before the wedding. Seriously mate, it sucks.

His timing sucked? There was the understatement of the century.

DecMur: When should I have told her?

NoaM: Weeks ago. When you started having doubts.

An enormous lump built in Tori’s throat. One she had trouble swallowing down. Declan had been questioning this for a while?