Black Diamonds (5 page)

Xavier’s lips crashed down on hers with a force that left her breathless. They were hot, as hot as hers, forcing her to open her mouth, just as he did, to seek the coolness within. A helpless groan escaped as she tasted the combination of the truffle oil, wild and earthy, still on his tongue, and the powerful pressure of his searching mouth.

Unbidden, her arms reached around his neck as he pulled her closer. Her skin tingled as his hands found her bare back, before sliding his fingers to the front. Underneath her pinafore, he reached for the tender tips of her breasts.

She wrenched away, clutching the dress in front of her. “What are you doing?”

His breathing was as ragged as hers as he stepped back. “That was a little more than neighbourly, I admit.”

He glanced outside. “Bob and Eve are waiting.” He ran a hand through his hair. “We have unfinished business, Jacaranda.
Au revoir
. Until we meet again.”

Until we meet again. She gave a shaky gasp as the door slammed shut behind him. She’d make sure it wasn’t soon. Neighbour or not, she was going to keep out of Xavier Antoine’s way.

Truffle Butter

Ideal with jacket potatoes, steamed vegetables or sliced and allowed to melt on your freshly cooked steak. Also perfect on packed or roast crayfish or on toast with grilled mushrooms.

Ingredients:

250g salted butter

15g Fresh Black Truffle

Directions:

Bring a small amount of water to the boil in a pot then turn down to a simmer. Gently melt the butter in a bowl that fits neatly over the pot of simmering water. Finely grate the truffle and add to the butter after removing the bowl from the hot water. Melt and place in a small container to set in the fridge, covered. As it cools, keep stirring the truffle through the butter so it sets evenly. Use immediately or roll and wrap well and freeze to store.

http://wineandtruffle.com.au

In the kitchen of the Truffle Tucker Cafe, Jackie found Mia preparing a batch of their truffle and mushroom pate. A smile creased her tanned skin as she looked up, setting her long earrings dangling. Wiping her hands on her apron, she crossed the floor to give Jackie a hug. “Come in, love. You’re a sight for sore eyes this morning.”

Jackie grinned. She’d never had a mother around, but when Mia gave her a hug she had the closest thing to it. With her colourful clothes and relaxed attitude to life, Mia had come to Western Australia nearly fifteen years earlier, and stayed, she always said, not only because she’d fallen in love with Dean, but also because she’d fallen in love with the south west.

Mia picked up a mug and waved it. “Here for a coffee before a swim?”

“How did you know I was going for a swim?”

The older woman laughed and pointed to Jackie’s purple straw tote. “I saw your beach bag. Sit down.”

Gratefully, Jackie did as she was told. From the pine table, she watched as Mia expertly made her a cappuccino from their machine, the smell drifting across the room. Even the smell of coffee made Jackie feel more awake.

Mia set the coffee on the table. “I’ll give you a muffin too, shall I? Cranberry, all organic of course, fresh made this morning.”

“Thanks. I’ll need it. I’m not going to the beach yet. I’m driving into Margaret River to see Bill Gordon first.” The accountant’s office was located in the coastal town for which the whole region was named. While the closest town to Paradise Truffle Farm was the quaint village of Nannup to their east, Jackie often made the hour long trip west into Margaret River town, rewarding herself with a swim afterwards at her favourite local beach.

Lifting a glass dome, Mia slid a muffin onto a plate. After passing it to Jackie, she sat down at the table and propped her fist under her chin. “You sound concerned, love.”

“I am. I’ve been dreading this meeting. I’ve got a terrible feeling our finances are worse than I thought.” There had been concern in the accountant’s voice when Jackie made the appointment to discuss the financial implications of her father’s will. She had the feeling that for Paradise Truffles, things weren’t adding up.

“Well, Bill’s a good man, and a good accountant. Try not to worry yourself before you find out all the facts.”

“I’ll try.” Jackie promised, though she couldn’t halt the bubble of panic rising in her chest. Raising the coffee mug, steam wafting from it, she changed the subject. “Is there anything I can get you while I’m in town?”

“I don’t think so. I was there yesterday, did some shopping. I saw that Frenchman who’s moved in next door, Xavier Antoine.” Mia fanned her face as if she was overheated, sending her turquoise earrings jangling. “Whoo. Now that’s the sort of man who gives Frenchmen their reputation. Why didn’t you tell me? He’s gorgeous.”

Jackie spluttered, burning her tongue. “I’m not sure I think so.” She wasn’t going to think any more about Xavier Antoine’s warm lips on hers, the way his searching fingers had found her breasts, his touch melting her to butter inside. She wasn’t.
She wasn’t.

Mia laughed. “Oh come on, Jackie. Don’t be so prim. The man’s a god. Surely you noticed?”

“He’s good looking, I suppose,” she admitted, remembering those truffle-dark eyes. “But he’s so arrogant it detracts from him being tall, dark and handsome.”

“It sounds like he rubbed you up the wrong way when you met him. Or was it the right way?”

Jackie rolled her eyes. “I’m not interested in men, Mia. I’ve got a truffle farm to run.”

“That’s a shame, love. I worry about you. You’re so much on your own now, especially after all that business with Simon. Have you heard from Simon about your dad, by the way?”

“No. He hasn’t been in touch.” She couldn’t help feeling hurt by it. Even a card of condolence would have been nice. But that wasn’t Simon’s way.

“Why am I not surprised?” Mia’s mouth set in a hard line. “He never did treat you right.”

“Pa didn’t think much of Simon as a boyfriend for me either,” Jackie recalled. It had been an unusual point of contention between them. “But Simon had some good points.”

“I’ll have to take your word for that. I can’t say I ever saw them.”

“I’m off men. That’s for sure.” Her belly gave a contradictory flip as Xavier Antoine popped back into her head. “I’ll be happy when my new neighbour goes back to France.”

“He’s going back soon is he?”

“Yes. There’s a big event at his estate next weekend. He wants me to go,” she blurted out.

“What? To France?”

“To the Dordogne.” A thrill ran through her saying the French name. Her father had raved about the truffles from the region. Part of her felt sorry she hadn’t accepted Xavier Antoine’s invitation, but he’d been so autocratic about it! How could she go to France when he could rouse her to fury with his arrogance, and also have the ability to make her feel strangely secure, as he had when she’d sobbed in his arms? Not to mention the taste of him mixed with the truffle oil …

Mia beamed with delight. “That’s fantastic! It’s just what you need. You’ve had a hard time recently. You’re going, I hope.”

“How can I? I can’t run off to France. There’s so much to do here.”

“Don’t be silly. Dean and I can run everything here, no problem. You know that.”

“No.” Swallowing the last of her coffee, Jackie stood up. She’d made up her mind. No Truffle Festival. No France. No Xavier Antoine. “I’m not going to leave Paradise.”

Mia glanced at the crumbled muffin still on the plate and sighed. “I won’t argue with you. I know that stubbornness of yours. Just like your father.” She frowned. “But I’m worried about you. I don’t think you’ve been taking care of yourself, and you’ve lost weight. You’re still pining for your dad, aren’t you?”

“I miss him every day.” It was true. Everywhere she looked on the farm, she expected to see her pa coming around the corner. “I’m worried about the business too. Now I’ve started looking at the books more closely I can see that things aren’t as good as they could be. My pa—well, you knew him. He had energy and passion for the Truffle Farm. He built the place, but he wasn’t a businessman. I look back now and I think I probably should have helped more with that side of things.”

“He’d have asked you if he had wanted more help with the books,” Mia said reasonably. “I think he was thrilled at what you were doing with the truffles, becoming an agricultural scientist like him.”

“Yes, I had to focus on that for a while. Pa and I agreed on that. But things are much tighter than I thought.”

“Well …” Mia broke off as through the serving hatch they saw a couple come into the cafe. “Whoops. Customers. Enjoy your swim. Hope the meeting goes all right in town. And if you see that tall handsome Frenchman, say hello from me,” she added with a wink.

“There’s one thing I can promise you,” Jackie said firmly as she took a last sip of coffee before heading for the back door. “I have no plans to see Xavier Antoine.”

Sunlight hit the windscreen of the jeep in an opal flash. As Jackie turned onto the road, heading west towards the coast, the first thing she saw was the new sign next door. It spelt out in huge curving letters: Antoine Estate.

So, Xavier had wasted no time. He’d already branded a patch of Western Australia, the same way he seemed to have branded his imprint on her lips.

Jackie pressed her foot on the accelerator and sped past. She wasn’t going to waste another thought on Antoine Estate, its owner, or his kiss. It was just one of those things that happened, best forgotten. After her meeting with Bill, she’d spend this precious day off at the beach. With luck, she’d wash away the taste of Xavier Antoine.

Driving along, she waited to feel the serenity she usually experienced on this road, surrounded by old growth karri forest. The beauty and size of the trees never ceased to amaze her. Every kilometre or so, there were signs and long winding driveways to wineries, guesthouses, restaurants and art galleries that had sprung up in the region, each set in their own patch of bushland. None rankled like the sign for Antoine Estate.

Entering the outskirts of Margaret River town, she slowed her speed. The town still had a seaside air and a holiday pace. Standard attire was swimwear, shorts or sarongs. Surfboards were strapped onto the roofs of the SUVs parked along the main street. Some of the shops and restaurants weren’t even open as she pulled into a parking space right outside the accountant’s office and went in.

Bill Gordon looked up from behind his desk. “Morning, Jackie. Come and sit down.”

She exchanged smiles with the man who’d been her father’s accountant for years. Squat and square, with a freckled face and grey hair that needed a trim, he’d long had a number of local businesses as clients.

Appearing nervous, he took off his glasses and put them back on again. “Well now.”

She sensed he was stalling. “Out with it, Bill. I know things aren’t great.”

Opening the folder in front of him, he sighed. “It’s not good news, Jackie.”

Her mouth dried with apprehension. What little of the cranberry muffin she’d eaten seemed to churn in her stomach. “Tell me.”

“Well, you know your dad’s left everything to you, of course. There’s no problem with that, and the lawyers have sorted it out for you. The thing is …”

“What is it? You’re starting to scare me.”

“Did you know your father took a second mortgage out on Paradise a few years back?”

She frowned in consternation. “No, I didn’t.”

“Your father originally bought his land for a great price. But setting up a truffle farm’s a risky business. In the first few years, there can be no return at all.”

Remembering those early days, she nodded. There hadn’t been much money to go around, although she’d never gone without. “The trees he planted took some years to grow.”

“It was a tough start,” Bill agreed. “And then there was the drought, a few years back now, before my time in Margaret River. Your dad had to irrigate, I remember he told me …”

“Connecting the trees to the dam, yes.” That had happened years before.

“It was lucky he did that. You don’t even need a drought; you only need one summer that has a few really hot days and everything dries out. If the trees can’t survive, there go your truffles too.”

Why was he telling her things she already knew? “We rely on that dam water. I understand that.”

“Yes, I know you do.” Bill took another gusty sigh. “But …”

“What is it? Whatever you have to tell me, I can handle it.” Jackie spoke mock sternly, trying to lighten the atmosphere. “I thought you accountants were supposed to have hearts of stone.”

“Not as far as Paradise Truffle Farm is concerned. Your dad put his all into that place. He wanted to leave you something special. He was a good man, your dad. We all loved him around here.” He cleared his throat before going on. “The second mortgage—well, the loan repayments are hefty. I guess your dad was hoping for a couple of good years, but the returns haven’t been what he hoped. There have been extra costs, too, running the cafe.”

“Pa thought it would bring in more customers.”

“It was a good idea, but it hasn’t paid off as well as he’d planned.”

“I see.” Jackie’s brain had trouble absorbing the information. “So, we’re in debt.”

“To the hilt,” the accountant told her bluntly. “The truffle farm’s in worse shape than even I had suspected. I did your dad’s taxes, but he played his cards close to his chest. Now that I’ve seen all the books, well … to be honest with you …” Spreading out his hands, he heaved a sigh.

Panic ripped through her, sending her legs to jelly. If she hadn’t been sitting down she’d have had to find a chair. “What are you trying to say, Bill? It can’t be that bad.”

The accountant let out another sigh. “I’m afraid it is. Your dad leveraged way too much. The debt’s huge.”

“Poor Pa!” Jackie’s eyes stung with tears. He’d had to bear all the worry alone—and the strain … the strain had killed him. “I knew we were sailing close to the wind, but I never realised how bad things had become. Why didn’t he tell me?”

“I guess he was hoping he could turn things around. You know what your dad was like. He was an eternal optimist.”