Page 10 of Wine & Whiskey
2
Chapter Two
Nick turnsinto a curved driveway leading to a lavish estate protected by a wrought iron security gate and ten-foot stone wall. All of her worries about him using her for money or a record deal fly out of her head like the breeze through the Jeep. He could launch his own label with the kind of money he must have. A flutter of hope flickers in her heart. Maybe this time will be different. Maybe this time she can be herself.
He passes the guard house, nodding at the camera, and parks by the dark walnut front door. Textured stone and arched windows accent the camel-colored brick. Raised flower beds edging the stone driveway soften the starkness of the mansion, providing bursts of pink, yellow, blue, and lilac intermixed with lush green plants.
The heat from his hands wrapped around her waist burns through the thin fabric of her dress as he helps her down. They linger for a moment, holding onto each other, with their bodies separated like two kids at their first school dance. Yet the electricity crackling between her fingers and his biceps is anything but childish. Her heart pounds at his deep breath. He feels it too. “Thank you.”
“My pleasure.”
One hand slides to her lower back, and he leads her up the steps and into the house. Overstuffed chairs and leather sofas fill the living room, facing an enormous stone fireplace. The space overlooks a sleek and modern kitchen, the counter covered with stacks of worn cookbooks, a large bowl of fresh fruit, and a platter of homemade treats covered by a loose sheet of wax paper. Her stomach growls at the rich scent of vanilla and brown sugar, and she twirls her hair around her finger to keep from snatching a cookie off the plate.
She concentrates on the curls looping over his collar as they walk outside to a textured concrete patio spanning the entire length of the house. A figure-eight pool with a waterfall spa in its center fills the open space, with a recessed fire pit surrounded by benches occupying the other end. She shakes her head at the visions of roasted marshmallows and melting chocolate popping into her mind.
They stop next to a double chaise lounge facing the water. Her breath catches from him smiling down at her. “This is my favorite spot. I thought you might like it too.”
“I love it.” She steps forward and leans against the railing, the waves rolling into the sand. “This is the best time of day to be at the beach. When the heat is gone and the sky is so colorful. I could stay here forever.”
“Open invitation—as long as you want, whenever you want.” Shivers trail her spine at the huskiness of his voice, making her turn around. His Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallows hard. “Would you like a glass of wine?”
“Yes, please.”
After he goes back into the house, she sits on the chaise and takes a deep breath, inhaling the salty taste of the ocean air. Tilting her face upward, she welcomes the delicate breeze on her skin. As luxurious as his home is, it doesn’t bring her the same peace as being outside in the burgeoning moonlight.
At the creak of the French doors, she turns to him, accepting the wine glass from his outstretched hand. “Thank you.” Her heart skips a beat when he sits down next to her holding a small tumbler of dark brown liquid. She takes a small sip. With a tendency to drink reds, the crisp, fruity white is an unexpected pleasure. Kind of like this entire evening.
“Do you like your wine?”
“It’s wonderful. You have good taste.” Nodding toward his glass, she wrinkles her nose. “I don’t know how you drink that stuff.”
“Whiskey is an acquired taste. But it has a nice, calming effect after a long day.” He clinks his glass against hers and takes a drink, his eyes never leaving hers. Heat rises up her cheeks at his intensity, forcing her to look away. “So, you aren’t offended I didn’t know who you were until you told me?”
His subtle frown greets her as she turns back to him. She can’t let him off the hook just yet. “No, not at all. I’m just going to have to fire my publicist. She told me if I hired her, everyone in America would know who I am.” Pressing her lips together, she tries to maintain her poker face. But his growing smile overwhelms her, and she can't hold back.
“You should cut her some slack. I’m sure I’m the only one who doesn’t know who you are. I work so much, I’m out of the loop, remember?”
“Whatisyour family business, exactly? You can’t own a beautiful home like this walking dogs.”
His deep, belly laugh is contagious, making her chuckle too. "I’m an investor. My partners and I acquire struggling businesses with strong potential, turn them around, and cash out when they’re successful.”
“So, how do you have time to bake cookies if you're always working?”
“Ah, the infamous sweet tooth rears its ugly head.” Goose bumps rise on her skin from him leaning closer, his arm brushing against her wrist. “Marta, my housekeeper, made them. She's always tempting us with her goodies.”
Her stomach gives a little lurch. Maybe she let down her guard too soon. “Us?”
Raising an eyebrow at her, he winks. “Some of my staff like sweets too.”
“Good. I was worried you might be hiding a girlfriend or wife from me.”
“No, I’m single. For now, anyway.”
She should be offended by his arrogance, but can’t bring herself to be. As much as she hates to admit it, she’s falling under his spell. Hard and fast, if she’s honest with herself.
“Tell me what it’s like to be a rock star. I’ve lived in L.A. all my life and never met one before.”
She shakes her head and holds up a finger. It’s not right for him to think she’s more than she really is. “Not a rock star. A pop star. There’s a difference.”
