The Winemaker Read online

  “I could blame my teachers.” She rested her chin on her hand. “Or shall I test the master? Which one of your lovely wines is it, maestro?”

  He continued his lazy, visual exploration of her face, taking in the honey-gold sparkle of her eyes, the smoothness of her skin, the way in which her hair caught the shimmering light. When he had his fill, he got to his feet, and strode to the wine racks. Zenna watched as he walked straight to a bottle, pulled it from its resting place, and carried it back to her.

  He held it to her. “Sol Fuego 2008 Bordeaux blend.”

  She looked at him in awe. She hadn’t actually expected him to get it right.

  He took the corkscrew and opened the bottle, pouring some into a clean glass. He sat down next to her again and gave her the glass. “I think where you falter,” his eyes bore into hers, “is in the final step, in the tasting.”

  When she only stared at him, he continued, “There are three stages to the tasting step.” He leaned closer. His thumb brushed over her lower lip. “First, there is the attack phase.”

  Fire shot through Zenna to the depths of her body from his light touch. She couldn’t move. She stared, mesmerized, at his lips.

  “The attack is made up of four pieces of the wine puzzle—alcohol content, tannin levels, acidity, and residual sugar.” He stopped his caress of her lips and brought his hand to hers, his fingers folding around hers on the stem of the glass, bringing the glass to her mouth.

  She took a sip, not moving her eyes from his. The spell was sensual. He spoke softly. “Ideally, all four should be well-balanced. One should not be more prominent than another.” He tilted the glass away from her, toward him, and dipped a finger in the wine. Painstakingly slow, he traced it over her lips. Then his head bent over hers, his tongue flicking out, tasting the moistness on her lips.

  Zenna almost didn’t have enough air left to breathe. She inhaled sharply.

  He drew back an inch, speaking close to her lips. “The four pieces must melt together to offer impressions in intensity and complexity.” His lips brushed over hers. “Soft or firm, light or heavy.” He kissed her again, this time deeper. “Crisp or creamy, sweet or dry.” He took her hand and brought it to his mouth, tasting her fingertips. “Not the true flavors like fruit or spice.” He stared into her eyes. “What do you taste, Zenna?”

  She was sure she couldn’t speak. An explosion of fireworks erupted in every cell of her body, in every nerve ending under her skin. It took her last shred of control to steady her breathing. He took the glass she still clutched and put it on the table. She closed her eyes.

  When she finally opened her mouth to speak, it took effort. “Creamy?” she guessed a second before his mouth claimed hers.

  He kissed her tenderly, lightly. “Full? Smooth?” he said into their kiss.

  She groaned. Her arms went around his neck, pulling him closer.

  He lapped at the depths of her mouth with more intense strokes. She leaned into him, taking everything he offered. He broke the kiss, giving her air to breathe, but only fleetingly before nipping at her lips again. He took her face between his hands, staring into her eyes, one at a time, taking in every little almost unnoticeable difference like the slight lighter hue in the yellow of the one before he pulled back to get a better look at her.

  “Still paying attention?” he asked. She only nodded. “The evolution phase is next.”

  This time, when he lowered his head, it was to trail his lips down her jaw all the way to the tender flesh of her neck. “This is when you are looking for the flavor profile.” He gently pushed first the wrap, then her sweatshirt from her shoulder. His hand caressed her skin, lowering his head once more to taste the sweet flesh of her shoulder before kissing a fiery path back up her neck.

  “If it’s a red, you may notice fruit—berry, plum, prune, or fig, perhaps.” His hand brushed away her hair to expose the side of her face, his mouth moving to her ear, nipping at the tender flesh, sending ripples of sensations down her spine.

  “Perhaps some spice—pepper, clove, cinnamon...” His hands went to her hair, pulling at the silky strands. His mouth moved back to her jaw, caressing her skin with the warm, sensual movement of his lips.

  “Or maybe a woody flavor like oak or cedar or a detectable smokiness.” His hand moved from her hair in a caress that explored her perfect, high, cheekbones. His fingers found her lips, moving them apart, slipping into the warm honey of her mouth.

  “For a white, you may taste apple, pear, tropical, or citrus fruits.” He let go of her lips to move both his hands behind her. With a swift movement, he pulled her onto his lap, straddling him.

  “Or the taste may be more floral in nature.” His hand slipped to her breast, his thumb stroking the swollen mound softly over her sweatshirt. “Or consist of honey, butter, herbs, or a bit of earthiness.” His other hand moved to her face, circling her eyes.

  His head moved down again, his mouth claiming hers in the ultimate seduction. She felt herself move against him, kissing him back feverishly, until he let go of her mouth once more. They were both breathless.

  “The final phase is the finish.” He stared into her eyes for a second, before his head lowered, his teeth nipping at the hard tip of her breast through the fabric. She gasped. His kiss trailed back to her mouth once more.

  “The wine’s finish is how long the flavor impression lasts after it is swallowed.” The flat palm of his hand went to her stomach, caressing the under-curve of her breasts. “This is where the wine culminates, where the aftertaste comes into play.”

  When both his hands moved to her breasts, his mouth claiming hers, she felt herself disperse like a whiff of alcohol. She wanted the moment to last forever, but he tortured her once more by placing a distance between their lips.

  “Did it last several seconds? Was it light-bodied? Or could you taste the full bodiedness on the back of your tongue and throat?” He looked deep into her eyes. “Would you want another sip or was the wine too bitter in the end?”

  She couldn’t stand it. Not for one second more. Her hand slipped down the opening of his shirt. She felt his muscles flex under her touch. It was his turn to catch his breath. Her hand went to one of the buttons. Maybe she was simply going to rip them all off.

  “Oh, dear...” A high-pitched voice made them both jump. “I’m so sorry,” Alejandro gasped from the top of the stairs. He looked completely unnerved. “I ... I didn’t know ... there was someone else...” He pointed with a thumb over his shoulder. “Shall I just go?”

  Zenna jumped to her feet, straightening her skirt. She cleared her throat. “I was just going to make some tea.” She wrung her hands together as she hurried past Alejandro, avoiding his eyes. “Right then, see you guys later.” She hurried back upstairs, and to the house.

  In the kitchen twenty minutes later, she stood making herself a cup of tea when Etán entered. She looked up, embarrassed. “Hi.”

  “Hi.”

  “About ... that...” she said with much difficulty, “it’s probably a good thing that he ... Alejandro ... you know...”

  “Yes.” Etán put his hands on his hips. “Probably not a bad thing he interrupted us, otherwise...”

  “Yeah. It could have been...” She shrugged. “It’s probably the chemical reaction of the wine ... or us...”

  He nodded, thoughtfully. “We’re tired, not thinking straight.”

  “We’re not ourselves,” she agreed quickly.

  “Yes.”

  “All right, then. Well, I’m off to bed. There’s a big week ahead. The launch and all.”

  “Yes. Good idea.”

  “Good night,” she managed before brushing past him.

  He caught her arm. “Zenna?”

  She looked at him.

  “Something has been bothering me for a while now.” He paused. “I think it’s better you don’t go with me to the launch.”

  When he saw her reaction, he continued quickly, “I‘d feel better knowing you’re safe here at the
estate.”

  Her eyes narrowed. She pulled her arm from his light touch. “The launch is my job. You’re paying me to do this job, and, if I don’t do my job, I’m simply another charity case.” She lifted her chin in determination. “I’m going.”

  “Zenna. Please. After what you’ve told me ... I’ve been too caught up with the wine production to make enough progress with the private security company. They can protect you better here than in a city where there’re too many possibilities.”

  “I’ve been fine on my own for nine years, Etán. Now, I’m not on my own. There’s a whole team of men out there protecting me. It’ll be fine.”

  He looked worried. “Zenna, I wish you wouldn’t fight me on this.”

  “I’m going. I’ve worked too hard to let it slip through the cracks at the last minute. I’m not going to sit tight and be babysat by some men in black while you take all the credit and the honor in Temuco.”

  He smiled at that. He regarded her, looking like he was fighting an internal battle. “Why don’t you meet my mother’s friend? She can help you gain control over your talent.”

  Zenna shook her head. “I don’t want to go there. Please. Let’s leave it at that.”

  Etán blew out a defeated sigh. “I want two bodyguards on your pretty little behind the minute we leave this property, night and day. Understood?”

  She smiled. “Fine. I can work with that.” She walked to the door. “Good night.”

  Etán looked as she walked away from him. He wasn’t sure he could work with that, but right now, he didn’t have a choice. Zenna was a fighter, not a quitter. She’d be there, even if she had to fight off those men in black. He grinned.

  Chapter Eleven

  Sitting next to Zenna in the private jet flying them for the launch to Temuco, south of Santiago, Etán rested his hand lightly on her arm. She wore a short, black, long-sleeved dress with dark stockings and buckled boots. Her soft, rounded hips looked good in that dress, and he wished he could tell her.

  “I’ve confirmed with Enrique that the case about the stolen car is progressing well. He is trying to prove negligence on the side of the car dealership.”

  She smiled up at him. “Thank you. I hate to make my problems yours. Especially now, when you have enough on your mind. Any news on the court hearing date?”

  He pulled his hand away reluctantly. “They’ve set up a preliminary date in four week’s time, but the state prosecutor may need more time to build his case.”

  She shivered. “Against me?”

  He suppressed the urge to wrap his arms around her. “No, against the second-hand car dealer where Marcos bought the car. They suspect the dealership is involved in some car cloning syndicate.”

  Her look was grateful. “Thank you for getting involved on my behalf. I don’t know how I would have managed on my own. I still feel like I should pay Enrique for his work. I feel bad letting him defend my case without paying a penny.”

  He didn’t tell her he had agreed to cover the legal costs should they lose the case. “If the dealer is found guilty, he’ll have to pay the legal fees for both parties. Besides, Enrique owes us a favor. Anyway, it’s a matter of formality. He only had to prove you bought the car from the dealership without any knowledge of the syndicate. In other words, you were a victim as much as the car’s owner.”

  “I still can’t believe this happened to me,” she said softly.

  He leaned over and squeezed her hand. “Don’t worry. It will soon be over.”

  A dark mood clouded his emotions. If she wasn’t legally required to stay in his country any longer, would she leave? Would she go back home? What would become of her?

  He looked sideways at her. “Any idea what you’re going to do when the legal embargo on your leaving the country is over?” He tried to sound casual.

  “No,” she said without hesitating. “I have no idea what I ought to do.” She bit her lip in thought. “I don’t think I could go back to teaching. I didn’t enjoy it during the last few years of dealing with stubborn students and getting reluctant payments out of them.

  “I still have to decide what I’m to do once the university winter break is over and the tourism degree I enrolled for starts. I’ve paid the registration fee, but the first semester’s class fees will be due soon, so I pretty much have to make up my mind before then.”

  Before he could help himself, he took her chin in his hand and turned her face. “Can I help you make up your mind?” he said, his voice raw with a sudden, unknown passion, and a second later he covered her mouth with his.

  He felt her momentarily freeze, but as his warm lips moved over hers, drinking her in like a good wine, savoring her like a succulent fruit, like a precious flavor, he sensed she started giving in to the sensation when her body slumped back in her seat. Only for a second. Her body went rigid once more, and then she pushed him away with both her hands on his chest.

  “What was that?” she said, her voice husky, a frown dipping the beautiful slant of her eyes.

  What was that? He couldn’t damn well keep his hands off her. He couldn’t think about her leaving. Yet he had nothing to offer. A man like him was no good for a woman like her.

  “What are you doing, Etán?” Her voice was small.

  “Attraction, I think,” he said slowly, trying to make sense of the turmoil he felt.

  “I thought you were not up for one-night stands.”

  “I’m not.”

  “Then what?” Her eyes probed, her voice hopeful, and suddenly he hated himself for doing exactly what Luca had said. He was no good when it came to women, at making them happy, and she needed more than a fleeting romance. She deserved a hell of a lot more. Yielding to the effect she had on him was selfish and not at all in her best interest.

  “Nothing,” he said between tight lips. He wanted her never to leave, but what could he offer her in return? He was a winemaker, nothing more. So far, he had failed all the women who meant anything to him. The little left of him had been destroyed by Sanita. He wasn’t sure he had enough left to give to Zenna. Yet he couldn’t think about letting her go either. He couldn’t bear to think of her next to another.

  “I’ll just pretend it didn’t happen,” she said, exasperated and a little irritated. “Don’t let it happen again. Just because you’ve shaved and wear a new, beautiful suit, doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate your insults.”

  He grinned at the back of her head as she turned away from him. When those claws came out all he wanted to do was tame her. His smile turned sad. If things were different...

  * * * *

  Watching Zenna at the launch setup was Etán’s worst nightmare come true. She made heads turn wherever she went. Male eyes followed her where she was preparing the hall for the evening’s event. He looked at Zenna in a short, pleated skirt, calf length boots, and a pink, cashmere sweater that left an inch of skin exposed between the soft hem and the belt of her skirt. She stretched to help one of the hotel staff members adjust a poster on the wall, exposing the naked skin of her belly. He saw the hotel bellboy stare at that strip of golden skin, and he almost lost all sense of reasonableness. From where he was testing a microphone in the front of the hall, he closed the distance between him and the duo with a few, quick paces and placed his hands on Zenna’s arms to lower them.

  “Let me,” he demanded as he easily moved the poster to the desired height.

  “Thank you.” Zenna smiled, propping her hands on her hips. “I think we’re just about ready. How’s the equipment? Everything working okay?”

  He shot the bellboy a dark look, which made the younger man cower and shuffle away. “All in place. You’ve done a great job. Why don’t you go and catch a catnap before tonight? It’s been a rough few days and late nights and tonight is going to be an even later one.”

  “Thanks,” she said gratefully. “I could do with a little nap before we have to stand on duty again, but what about you?”

  “I’m used to the late nights,” he assured her.
“I don’t feel tired.”

  “Fine, but first I want to do a practice run with the waiters to make sure they know how to serve the wine properly. I’ll die of shame if one of them tries to fill a glass over the wrong shoulder or pours the wrong wine.”

  “Good point. I love your attention to detail. Let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll walk you to your room.”

  She smiled. “I appreciate your protectiveness, but I see I already have two of your security guards on my ass. You run along and do what you have to do. Go over your speech. Your men will walk me, I’m sure.”

  He grinned. “Trying to make me jealous?”

  “Shoo.” She waved her hands at him. “Go on. I’m a big girl.”

  “Don’t I know that.” He looked at her with appreciation as she waltzed away from him.

  She had done a great job, and she knew it. The accomplishment had given her newfound self-confidence. He could see it in her step and in the way she flicked her hair over her shoulder. Maybe it was a good thing to have brought her after all.

  Only when Zenna was satisfied all the hotel waiters knew exactly what was expected of them for the wine tasting did she quietly slip away from the commotion. She didn’t want Etán walking her to her room mostly because she wasn’t sure how long she could control herself without begging him to come inside. Her face flushed at her thoughts. Something about him was too dangerous for her wellbeing. He did things to her no one, not even Marcos, had managed. Her insides knotted just recalling the memory of his kisses.

  The thick carpet of the hotel reception foyer cushioned her steps. Lost in thought, she was only remotely aware of the two men from the private security company following her from the foyer down the dimly lit hallway that led to the elevators.

  Etán and she had caught an early flight at five in the morning, which meant she had been up since two-thirty and had been working around the clock to prepare for the evening’s gala event. She was shattered. Her eyes burned, and her concentration wasn’t what it was supposed to be.