Grapes of Wrath (Billionaires' Secrets Book 2) by Jennifer Lewis Page A
Authors: Jennifer Lewis
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Amado again.
Those final tatters fell silently to the carpet as she nodded. “I’ll arrange a return trip for next week. Which wines were you hoping to secure for our cellars?”
“All of them.”
Chapter Eleven
A stride his horse, Amado watched from the hillside. The small white car approaching the house could be carrying only one person.
He knew because his skin prickled with awareness.
Susannah.
His horse pranced sideways and he lost sight of her as she entered the avenue of cypress.
No need to rush back. She’d be waiting for him when he arrived.
He’d instructed Rosa to put her in Marisa’s old room. The whole house was suddenly haunted by the ghosts of the past. Surely it was only right that Susannah get more intimately acquainted with them?
Ignacio hadn’t spoken to him since his trip to New York. Or was it he who hadn’t spoken to Ignacio? Now that Ignacio’s deception was revealed, Amado found himself questioning the man’s authority over any aspect of his life.
Old wounds had broken open and festered in the sour air of mistrust.
And Susannah was to blame.
She’d reawakened feelings he hadn’t experienced since Ignacio drove away the woman he loved more than ten years ago. Valentina taught him to dance and taught him to love. But she hadn’t been a suitable wife for a son of Ignacio Alvarez.
Amado issued a curse that rang in the air. What a joke.
When she left, he tried to follow her but she’d turned him away. She’d implied that she didn’t want him without the estate.
Proud and angry, he’d returned home, thrown himself into his work and moved on.
Now he wondered how much Ignacio’s little misguided attempt to save the family honor had cost Valentina, as well as himself.
He hadn’t lived as a monk in the years since. He enjoyed the company of women. Loved to cherish and pleasure them, savor a delicious tango between the sheets, then leave them with a smile on their face.
Until now. Something about Susannah scratched beneath the surface and left him aching.
She’d seen and experienced so much more of the world than he had, and she was fascinating to talk to. She could dance and make love with him, then glance coolly at him as if he meant nothing to her.
Irritation coiled in his gut, interlaced with longing. He hated the power she had over him. That he lay awake at night hungering for the touch of her skin.
He’d like nothing better than to see that icy demeanor melt in the heat of desire. He enjoyed a flicker of satisfaction at the prospect of seducing her. Just because he could.
By the time he climbed the steps to the house, the setting sun bathed the land in a fiery glow that matched his mood. Inside, he pulled off his gloves. Found himself smelling the air, testing it for her presence.
She was here.
A subtle floral scent. Jasmine and a hint of citrus.
He ignored the heat and tension rising in his limbs.
No sign of her in the living room. He heard Rosa moving in the kitchen, but no sound of conversation.
He finally spotted Susannah standing on the terrace. He hesitated a moment, watching her through the closed glass doors. The red ball of the sun hung at the ridgeline of the mountains. Almost a silhouette, she stared out into the distance, slim and fragile against the harsh backdrop. A breeze pressed the skirt of her dress against her long legs.
Why did she always wear a skirt? To torment him with what he couldn’t see?
He flung open the doors. “Susannah.”
She spun around. Her face lit up, and a smile started to spread across it. Then she hesitated and he watched her get control of her features. “Hello, Amado.”
Her big brown eyes looked up at him. Wary.
And so she should be.
He lifted her hand and kissed it, cavalier style. “The pleasure, once again, is all mine.”
She flushed. Sweet. And so predictable.
She had no control over her attraction to him.
The thought gave him a vicious ripple of satisfaction. She might wish to put him behind
Those final tatters fell silently to the carpet as she nodded. “I’ll arrange a return trip for next week. Which wines were you hoping to secure for our cellars?”
“All of them.”
Chapter Eleven
A stride his horse, Amado watched from the hillside. The small white car approaching the house could be carrying only one person.
He knew because his skin prickled with awareness.
Susannah.
His horse pranced sideways and he lost sight of her as she entered the avenue of cypress.
No need to rush back. She’d be waiting for him when he arrived.
He’d instructed Rosa to put her in Marisa’s old room. The whole house was suddenly haunted by the ghosts of the past. Surely it was only right that Susannah get more intimately acquainted with them?
Ignacio hadn’t spoken to him since his trip to New York. Or was it he who hadn’t spoken to Ignacio? Now that Ignacio’s deception was revealed, Amado found himself questioning the man’s authority over any aspect of his life.
Old wounds had broken open and festered in the sour air of mistrust.
And Susannah was to blame.
She’d reawakened feelings he hadn’t experienced since Ignacio drove away the woman he loved more than ten years ago. Valentina taught him to dance and taught him to love. But she hadn’t been a suitable wife for a son of Ignacio Alvarez.
Amado issued a curse that rang in the air. What a joke.
When she left, he tried to follow her but she’d turned him away. She’d implied that she didn’t want him without the estate.
Proud and angry, he’d returned home, thrown himself into his work and moved on.
Now he wondered how much Ignacio’s little misguided attempt to save the family honor had cost Valentina, as well as himself.
He hadn’t lived as a monk in the years since. He enjoyed the company of women. Loved to cherish and pleasure them, savor a delicious tango between the sheets, then leave them with a smile on their face.
Until now. Something about Susannah scratched beneath the surface and left him aching.
She’d seen and experienced so much more of the world than he had, and she was fascinating to talk to. She could dance and make love with him, then glance coolly at him as if he meant nothing to her.
Irritation coiled in his gut, interlaced with longing. He hated the power she had over him. That he lay awake at night hungering for the touch of her skin.
He’d like nothing better than to see that icy demeanor melt in the heat of desire. He enjoyed a flicker of satisfaction at the prospect of seducing her. Just because he could.
By the time he climbed the steps to the house, the setting sun bathed the land in a fiery glow that matched his mood. Inside, he pulled off his gloves. Found himself smelling the air, testing it for her presence.
She was here.
A subtle floral scent. Jasmine and a hint of citrus.
He ignored the heat and tension rising in his limbs.
No sign of her in the living room. He heard Rosa moving in the kitchen, but no sound of conversation.
He finally spotted Susannah standing on the terrace. He hesitated a moment, watching her through the closed glass doors. The red ball of the sun hung at the ridgeline of the mountains. Almost a silhouette, she stared out into the distance, slim and fragile against the harsh backdrop. A breeze pressed the skirt of her dress against her long legs.
Why did she always wear a skirt? To torment him with what he couldn’t see?
He flung open the doors. “Susannah.”
She spun around. Her face lit up, and a smile started to spread across it. Then she hesitated and he watched her get control of her features. “Hello, Amado.”
Her big brown eyes looked up at him. Wary.
And so she should be.
He lifted her hand and kissed it, cavalier style. “The pleasure, once again, is all mine.”
She flushed. Sweet. And so predictable.
She had no control over her attraction to him.
The thought gave him a vicious ripple of satisfaction. She might wish to put him behind
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