Love On The Vine

LOVE ON THE VINE

by

Sally Clements

By Sally Clements

Copyright © 2014 Sally Clements

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A
naked woman swam in his lake.

She floated on her back, offering her lissome body to the sky, silver shards of light reflecting from her pale skin. Long blonde hair drifted like an exotic water plant around her head.

Etienne Durand stilled at the lakeside, leaned against one of the huge redwoods circling the hidden paradise, and watched. He should be angry to find a strange woman taking advantage. The lake hidden in the forest was his property, after all. Prominent notices posted everywhere proclaimed the lands as private. But somehow the sight of the woman luxuriating in the clear water soothed his rotten mood, rather than exacerbated it. He breathed in the scent of damp woodland and let his mind wander free.

In this hidden idyll, she looked like a nymph, a truly beautiful creature at one with the magical surroundings.

Dry leaves crackled underfoot as Etienne pushed away from the tree. A creature who’d invaded his land. Without permission.

Whatever her motives, she must have climbed the fence into the forest from the vineyard.

His shoulders tensed as he stepped forward. “Get out of the water,” he called.

In an instant, the nymph jackknifed. Her arms flailed as she swallowed a deep mouthful of lake water. She came to the surface spluttering. “I...”

“Get out.” Etienne pointed to the lake shore. “You’re trespassing.”

“I’m not,” the female shouted back. “And there’s no way I’m getting out, not while you’re watching.”

Etienne pulled in a deep breath. “You are trespassing. And I’m serious. Either get out of the water or I’ll come in and drag you out.”

The blonde blushed beet-red. “I can’t. I’m not...I’m not wearing anything.”

Holding back his amusement, Etienne crossed both arms across his chest. “I know.”

She trod water, watching.

“Well, which is it?” He undid the top button of his shirt.

Her eyes widened.

“Are you coming out on your own, or...” Etienne smothered a grin at her horrified expression. He slowly undid another.

“All right.” She swam closer. “My clothes are over there.” A wet hand, index finger extended, pointed to the lake shore.

Glancing to his left, he spotted a small bundle of discarded clothing.

“You need to turn around.”

Etienne crossed his arms and glared. “I don’t need to do any such thing.” No one dictated to him. As new owner of the St. Clair Durand Vineyard on the outskirts of the Californian town of Aqua Blanca, he was the master of all he surveyed.

She smoothed back her hair with a wet hand. “Please.”

The word hung in the air between them.

Some women would play the situation for all it was worth—walking out of the lake naked, with swaying hips and a knowing look in their eyes. He’d met plenty of those. Or pretend modesty in an attempt to manipulate. Bitter experience had educated Etienne in the wiles of women.

“I can’t get out until you turn around.” The flush crept down her neck. She rolled in her bottom lip and worried it with her teeth.

Etienne shoved a hand through his hair. The flush couldn’t be faked. Maybe the innocent act was real. If so...

He paused for a long moment then, with a curt nod, turned his back.

A rustling noise behind him indicated she had picked up her clothes. Etienne hadn’t noticed a towel in the little bundle, which meant she’d have to climb into her clothes with her skin still wet from the cool water. Passion stirred at the thought of her wet body, and he silently cursed the inappropriate response.

“I’m dressed,” she said in a voice no louder than a whisper.

He swung back to catch his first close-up look of the stranger standing an arm’s length away. She was tall for a woman, the top of her head just about level with his nose. Long wet strands of dark blonde hair hung to just below her breasts, and her eyes were clear vibrant green, like new grass after rain. Like the shoulders he’d glimpsed, her face was pale, with a light dusting of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Whatever makeup she might have been wearing had long washed away, and yet she still looked... Etienne blinked. She was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. And he’d seen plenty.

His gaze swept her head to toe. High small breasts, slender hips, and legs which went on forever. Soft lakeshore sand stuck to her toes, and cherry red polish painted her toenails.

Mon Dieu, what was he doing, gazing at her toenails? Etienne cleared his throat. His gaze flicked to her face. “So, who the hell are you?”

****

B
ella St. Clair’s lips parted. The stranger was gorgeous. Tall, with wide shoulders and a long, lean body wrapped in black jeans, and a black shirt open at the neck to reveal the brown column of his neck. The hair brushing his collar was so dark it verged on black, and his eyes were dark chocolate brown.

His mouth...Her gaze lingered over the straight top lip and the wider bottom one, and her body flushed with heat.

“I asked you a question.”

A question she had no intention of answering. Glancing away, Bella rubbed her palms against the coarse denim of her jeans. This must be Etienne Durand, the new owner of the St. Clair Durand Vineyard. Once, she’d had the right to swim in the lake. But no longer. He was right. She was trespassing.

Maybe if she apologized, she could escape without revealing her identity. Bella forced a smile. “I...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass.” She couldn’t hide the shake in her voice.

“But you did,
Chérie
.” He leaned back against one of the huge trees and shoved tanned hands into the front pockets of his jeans. A slow smile spread over his features.

Bella’s heart stuttered and stopped. He was good looking when he was angry, but smiling... She pulled herself up to her full height, squared her shoulders, and faced him straight on. “In my youth, I used to swim here. I know you own the vineyard now so I apologize. I will never do it again.”

Etienne pushed away from the tree and stepped closer.

A sense of danger sharpened Bella’s senses. She breathed in the warm sandalwood scent of his aftershave, felt trapped by his intense dark stare. He was so vitally male her mouth dried. She swallowed hard and willed herself not to take a step back. Any weakness might reveal how much he affected her, how intimidated she felt. Her last boyfriend had been pretty keen on throwing around his weight, and she’d learned early to school her features into an impassive mask. The color of Etienne’s eyes shifted to dark chocolate.

He trailed a finger down her cheek. “I would like to say you’re welcome to bathe in the lake whenever you wish,
Chérie
. Especially if you neglect to bring a bathing suit.”

Bella’s cheek tingled where his fingers had been. She touched her face, feeling the heat beneath her shaking fingers. Oh no, she’d been splashing around for ages on her back. Just how much had he seen?

He reached out.

His finger’s quick stroke of her bottom lip left a flurry of sensation in its wake.

Then he stepped away. “But as you are no doubt aware, men are working in the vineyard, and a naked nymph splashing around here would be a terrible diversion. One that would doubtless impact on my bottom line.”

Bella’s mouth opened and closed like a goldfish. She searched for words, but came up empty.

“Okay, enough teasing.” He grinned and stuck out his hand. “I am Etienne. Will you tell me your name?”

He must be the only person in Aqua Blanca who didn’t know her identity, but she really didn’t want to answer his question. Her stomach clenched. For generations, her family had been here and if word got out she’d been caught by the devastating new owner of her grandfather’s vineyard skinny dipping in the lake... She clamped shut her eyes for a moment imagining it. She’d be the laughing stock of the entire town. Running her hand over her hair, she glanced down at her wet clothes.

The telephone call from the bank had been so devastating that panic compelled her to escape. Barely thinking, she’d pulled on jeans and an old T-shirt, and climbed into her jeep. Only one place soothed her soul, and she’d blindly headed straight for the lake.

Birdsong pierced the silence, but Etienne didn’t look away. He waited for her answer.

As she breathed in, she felt her chest expand. “I’m Bella.”

Etienne’s fingers curled around hers. “Bella.”

Shivers chased up her spine as his deep voice caressed her name.

“It suits you. Now, shall I walk you off the property, or will you make your own way?”

****

T
wo hours later, Bella draped her navy blue jacket over the back of her office chair, and glanced at the answering machine on her desk. Nothing. When a check of her email revealed only spam, disappointment sliced through her like a knife.

When Celebrate opened barely a year ago, business had been brisk. Since the economy started into freefall however, party-planning bookings, which had been plentiful in a time of carefree spending, had tailed off. Now, her stricken company was in danger of going under.

A pile of bills lay stacked on the desk’s smooth surface awaiting settlement, and she had no money to pay them. Bella pulled in a shaky breath. Her mind wandered back to the phone call from her bank manager that morning.

“I’m sorry, Bella. But you’re overdrawn again,” Mr. Bufford had said. “I need a payment.”

“Can you give me until the end of next week, Mr. Bufford?” She hoped he couldn’t hear the note of desperation in her voice. The barely concealed panic. She fiddled with her necklace and listened hard. Silence. For a moment, then two.

Mr. Bufford sighed. “Okay, Bella, I’ll make a note in your file. But I’ll need a payment by the end of next week.”

The tenseness left her shoulders at this temporary reprieve. He’d doubtless thought she’d go to her father and ask for a handout. Bella stalked across the tiny office. As she made a cup of instant coffee, her fingers shook. This might be the end of her dream, unless the phone rang today offering a way out. She’d never ask her father for money. The business would fail before she did that. Lost in thought, she sipping her coffee, hissing as it burned her mouth. She pushed out her tongue, and touched a finger to it with a grimace.

The phone rang. Bella jumped, and the cup sloshed coffee to the floor.

With a curse, Bella put down the cup, strode over, and snatched up the receiver.

“Bella?”

Her sister Marie’s familiar voice floated down the line. Disappointment flooded Bella with the realization the call was a family one, rather than a new business client. “Hi, Marie. What’s up?”

Marie knew just how bad business was. She often called to commiserate, but Bella was in no mood to share her woes. Not without a solution in sight.

“I have a job for you,” Marie said. “Emily’s birthday party.”

Oh no, a pity job.
Bella winced. “Marie, you don’t have to...”

Marie interrupted. “I need a party planner. She’s going to be sixteen. This isn’t a mercy call.”

Bella’s heart plummeted. Despite the determination in her sister’s tone, Marie was capable of organizing her daughter’s party, if she had the inclination. Bella glanced at the stack of unpaid bills, indecision warring within. She couldn’t refuse this job. Her brother-in-law was one of the wealthiest men in Aqua Blanca, and if Marie wanted to help, at least it wasn’t a handout.

She screwed up her eyes tight, and swallowed her pride. “Okay, Marie. I’d be delighted. Just give me the details.” Half an hour later, the call over, she tapped her pen on the desktop. A birthday party for fifty of Aqua Blanca’s teenagers would clear away the bills on her desk, and even allow a token payment on her overdraft.

Head tilted to the side, she rubbed her neck. Her sister’s thoughtfulness had gifted Celebrate a valuable breathing space, one she wouldn’t squander. She smoothed a hand over her hair, tied back in an efficient topknot. Next week she’d be facing the crisis all over again, but right now she had work to do. Organizing a last-minute party for fifty, although challenging, was definitely possible.

Over the next half hour, Bella ordered decorations, drew up a menu of finger foods, and emailed it to her sister for approval. Happiness bloomed to life with every item she ticked off her checklist. For the next task, she’d need to get out of the office.