Page 9 of How To Tempt The Off-Limits Billionaire

There was still a lot of skepticism in her voice and Muzi didn’t blame her, it sounded like—itwas—a long shot.

Muzi put his car into gear and accelerated away. “I did a trip to France and researched the cultivar. There wasn’t much information but I did find out that C’Artegan grapes produce a soft, intense, marvelous red. It doesn’t have a great yield and the vines are as finicky as all hell to grow, which is why few farmers planted the vines. But, when you get it right, the wine is fantastic.”

Muzi looked over the Merlot vines with a critical eye, thinking they weren’t looking too bad. The vines had been leased to a neighbor for the past thirty years, but Gil and Zia’s death had ended the agreement. It wouldn’t take much effort to make them productive again and he’d had a connection in the dried fruit industry who’d buy any grapes Clos Du Cadieux didn’t use.

And somewhere within the chaos were, he was convinced, C’Artegan vines.

“If they are so tricky to grow, why do you want them?” Ro asked as he took a turn to the right and caught a glimpse of a large gable peeking through the trees.

“Because I am one of the few winemakers who knows exactly how to handle the vines,” Muzi said. “Clos du Cadieux has a couple of hectares of rare cultivars—not C’Artegan though—and the wine I’ve made from their harvests have not only commanded huge prices but also have won some international awards. If I can make a few cases of red from an old, supposedly eradicated cultivar, I’d cause a splash on the international wine scene and that would be very good publicity for Clos du Cadieux.”

And he’d cement his position in the company and be able to shut Susan down for good. The board would never boot a CEO who brought a new, fantastic wine from a rare cultivar to the market. “So, that’s the story of why I want to buy your vineyard. Are you going to sell it to me?”

Ro shrugged and smiled. “Can I at least see the property before you wrest it from my grubby hands?”

Muzi heard the note of amusement in her voice and relaxed. She wasn’t emotionally attached to the property and she had no reason to keep it. He had a good chance of acquiring the land...

He wished he had as good a chance of getting her into bed.

Best friend’s sister. Someone you’re doing business with. Keep your focus on what is important, dude.

“Do you know anything about the property?” Ro asked him, as the road turned away from the house and followed a small stream that ran through the farmland.

“A little,” Muzi replied. “From the research I’ve done, the property has been passed down through the female side of your mother’s family.”

“Zia Tempest-Vane just carried me, my mother lives in Los Angeles,” Ro told him, through gritted teeth.

So she wasn’t a fan of her birth parents. Noted. “Zia’s family came to this area in the late 1820s and they planted the vines they brought over from the Loire Valley in France. They grew wealthy and at some point built the house, the cellars and a second Cape Dutch gable house on the property. Zia inherited the property when she was quite young, in her early twenties, but from what I can gather, she was never interested in the property. I doubt she even visited St. Urban.”

“I find myself admiring her more and more each passing day.”

Muzi smiled at her sarcasm. “The house has been closed up since your maternal great-grandmother’s death and the land leased to winemakers in the area. That’s pretty much all I know.”

“It’s a good start,” Ro replied. “I know quite a bit about the Tempest-Vane history, but I know little about Zia’s family.”

“And you want to?” Muzi asked.

Ro lifted one feminine shoulder. “Yeah, I think I do, just to get a better handle on who they were and where I came from.”

Muzi remembered the pile of bags he’d thrown into his car’s trunk earlier. “So, are you planning to stay at St. Urban for a while?” he asked.

“I think so.”

Muzi winced. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea. You don’t know what state the house is in. Hell, I’m not sure if the utilities are connected.”

Ro’s eyes widened. “Seriously?”

“Did you not hear me when I said that the place has been locked up tight for decades?”

“Great,” Ro muttered. “Well, if I can’t stay here then I’ll find a hotel in town.”

Muzi wondered whether he should tell her that there was a popular music, arts and food festival in town this weekend and doubted she’d find a vacancy. He shrugged. If necessary, he’d drive her back to Cape Town. It was only an hour away, or, if she wanted to stay in the area, she could move into one of the many guest rooms at his vineyard on the other side of the valley.

Or into his bed...

Not helpful, Triple M.

Ro fiddled with the clasp of her bag as Muzi turned right to steer the Urus down another narrow, oak-lined road. He caught a flash of white and after another turn and fifty feet, the entire house came into view.

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