Page 34 of Beneath the Sapphire Sky

Wouldn’t that be fun to explain to his family—why he was stuck on the side of the road, or worse yet, having to walk because he didn’t trust himself to drive the measly kilometre and a half left to go.

If one night with her created this kind of meltdown in his body, he was glad he’d left, because who knew what kind of short circuit his brain would suffer if he’d spent the day with her? It would probably fry his synapses completely.

Lucky he was only bottling wine today, not blending or refining. If his concentration had evaporated so badly, he’d more than likely ruin entire vats of the liquid gold.

His father’s expected reaction should that happen was more than enough to snap him back to reality.

Dante breathed deeply and counted to five. Satisfied he could safely get himself home, he shifted into gear and drove slowly down the bitumen road.

One thing was abundantly clear—Belle Davis was going to do him in, one way or another, and depending on the end result, it could mean the happiest decision of his life.

Or the worst.

Chapter Eleven

Belle walked outof the hot sun into the cool shade of the huge vat shed, a massive smile on her face. She couldn’t help it; the day had started great and could only get better. She blinked and squinted to see more clearly, the glare from outside momentarily blinding her.

The pungent scent of rotten eggs, intertwined with a pervading, completely unpleasant smell of stale stewed fruit, scrunched her nose up.

“Gah!”

Belle lifted her bent arm and breathed through the material. Her eyes had adjusted and she saw her father talking with her brother and Mac O’Brien, a local police officer. She went to wave hello when her father saw her, then stopped at the grim expression on his face.

Jack also turned towards her, just as the scene before her slowly registered.

Wine. So much wine, fanned out in an indecent spread of pale reddish-brown across the wide concrete floor, like a massive, diluted bloodstain.

Horror and shock flooded her. She looked to her brother.

“Yeah. That’s about where I’m at too, sis.”

“Dad?” she whispered.

This couldn’t be real. How much wine was there? And Jack was just watching it disappear down the central drain grate that ran the entire length of the vat shed?

Her father reached her as Mac caught her under her elbow, helping her stay standing. Her gaze flew to the vats they’d been standing in front of.

Puddles sat in front of two vats and led a wide line down to the drain. One of those vats held the entry wine Jack had been working on for the last couple of years.

“No.” She faced her father, fury coiling and burning her from the inside. “Why would you dumpwhole vats?”

She pulled her arm from Mac’s grip.

“What happened?”

Misery washed over her father’s face. He looked ten years older than he had the previous night.

“When Jack came in this morning, the lid was off the vat and the tap was dripping. He could smell something odd.” Her father looked at Jack.

She followed his gaze.

“Someone tainted the vats, Belle. They took the lids off so we’d see what happened, and to ruin it completely, as if it wasn’t anyway.”

Jack’s shoulders slumped. She’d never seen him so shaken. He waved at the vat. “They laced the two vats with sulphur. Kilos and kilos of it. The parts per million are off the charts, and the pH is too high. As if the oxygen wasn’t enough. It wasn’t even good for vinegar after that.”

Belle tried to speak. Nothing came out of her open mouth. Two vats. Nearly fifteen thousand litres of top-shelf wine. The financial loss alone was staggering, let alone the emotional cost.

She swallowed and tried again. “Who would do such a thing?”

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