The Billionaire Bargain 2 by Monroe Lila

Author:Monroe, Lila [Monroe, Lila]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Supernova Publishing
Published: 2015-01-27T08:00:00+00:00

SIX

For the engagement party Grant opted out of the film noir car with its fancy chauffeur, picking me up instead in a cherry red convertible with fins so wide it would have been perfectly at home on the sets of a 1950s science fiction movie set on Mars.

“Aren’t you a little young to be having a midlife crisis?” I asked him as I got in, my thin turquoise dress flapping around my thighs in the breeze.

“Aren’t you a bit young to be a soul-sucking vampire?”he asked, sticking his tongue out at me as if he were seven years old.“I’ll inform you that‘Betty’here is a classic.”

“You named your car,” I said with eyebrows raised.

“I name all my cars,”he informed me.“The one with which you are most acquainted is Hepburn.”

His eyes were dancing, and I couldn’t help but laugh as I slid into the seat. I’d been planning on tearing him a new one, but I’d had a few days to decompress.

Today was sunny, Grant looked scrumptious in a tight red dress shirt and khaki slacks, and I couldn’t help but shiver a little inside at the ways his eyes tracked up my legs to the hem of my dress.

If I was going to be a part of this farce, I might as well have fun. That was what farces were for, weren’t they?

The mood stayed light and teasing as he drove out to the gently rolling hills of Napa Valley, the scenery growing ever more green as we descended into the heart of wine country.

Rows and rows of staked vines stretched out to the horizon, plump grapes peeking like polished sapphires and amethysts between the wide leaves as we raced by, kicking up dust on the country roads.

“The Devlin family vineyard concentrates primary on a variety of fruit-forward New World wines,”Grant was saying.“Though in recent years we have been experimenting with a more Old World, mineral Chardonnay. We do a very plush, concentrated Merlot, and White Zinfandel continues to be our most popular vintage. We use the same grape varieties passed down from the Korbel brothers—”

He chattered on and on about methodé champenoiseand acidity levels and all sorts of technical things that went flying over my head like hummingbirds, gesturing enthusiastically, his eyes sparkling more than any dessert wine ever could. Who cared that I didn’t understand a word he was saying, when he was so passionate about it?

I definitely didn’t notice the way he rolled his sleeves up his muscular forearms when he got really into some fine technical detail, or the way he popped open the top three buttons of his shirt, as if it were constraining him.

“This really means a lot to you, huh?”I said.“This place we’re going to.”

“Some of my first memories are of this place.”He went quiet, and for a second I worried that I’d said the wrong thing, derailed him from his happy thoughts and doomed us to an awkward silence.“I can just barely recall my parents, you know. But I remember the flight here from Australia, looking out the window.

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