find solace in his work—she still invaded his thoughts.
The sound of a car driving slowly along the drive toward the main house caught his attention. He looked outside his window and saw Cade’s car turn up the small driveway that led to Isobel’s cottage. It seemed to Ethan that it lingered there an inordinately long time before swinging around and heading back to the main house.
Ethan tried desperately to ignore the not so subtle urging in the back of his mind. The one that told him to go to Isobel. To find out for himself what she’d been up to with his cousin all day. Before he was even aware of it he was turning off the lights at the winery and locking the door behind him, his feet treading the pathway to her cottage as they had only two nights ago.
Through the cottage window he could see her seated at the dining table, her laptop in front of her and a slideshow of photos up on the screen. He hesitated in the darkness, feeling like some creepy voyeur as he took in the delicate line of her neck as she bent over a notebook and scribbled something into its pages.
Damn, he’d thought not seeing her for the past couple of days would have taken some of the sharpness of the ragged edges that had remained after he’d left her bed.
He must have made a sound because she dropped her pen and whipped her head around, her eyes searching the darkness where he stood. Her actions served as the catalyst to make him move forward, to knock gently at her door. Isobel swung the door open and eyed him carefully.
“You’re starting to make this a habit, aren’t you?”
“May I come in?”
He didn’t even fully understand why he was here. All he knew was that he’d felt compelled to come. Now that she was in front of him, he barely knew what to say. His body, on the other hand, had its own agenda. Already he could feel the slow, steady drumbeat of desire through his blood.
She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. “Can I offer you a drink? A glass of wine or something?”
“Sure,” he said, looking at the table where she had a glass of red wine sitting next to her laptop. “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Her eyes lit with that habitual spark of waywardness that seemed to linger around her like an aura. “It’s not one of yours.”
“Tastes like vinegar, does it?” he answered mockingly in return.
“It’s actually very good, in my opinion. Mind you, I’m no connoisseur.”
Ethan walked over and picked up the bottle, recognizing the New Zealand wine label instantly. “You’re right. Vinegar should never even be mentioned in the same room as this.”
Isobel brought him a glass and he poured the ruby liquid into the wide bowl.
“I guess you didn’t come here to discuss wine,” Isobel said, picking up her own glass and taking a sip.
For a second, Ethan was mesmerized by the tip of her tongue as she ran it along her bottom lip, but then he brought his attention very firmly back to her eyes. There was a challenge in them. One he recognized and to which he instantly felt an answering call.
“No, I didn’t. How was your day?”
His question clearly startled her and for a second or two she didn’t answer. Eventually, she took a breath and let it out slowly before speaking.
“It was good. And yours? How was your lunch with Shanal?”
“How did you know about that?”
“Was it supposed to be a secret? Cade and I saw you two walking at the botanical gardens. We didn’t stop to say hi because he was taking me into Adelaide for the rest of the day.”
Ethan felt the obscure urge to apologize for taking Shanal out, but that was ridiculous. He barely knew Isobel. They’d only been acquainted for a handful of days—and their paths would only continue to cross for a few weeks longer before she left The Masters—and him—behind. If he chose to devote his afternoon to a woman who actually intended to stick around, then what right would she have to complain?
“We
The sound of a car driving slowly along the drive toward the main house caught his attention. He looked outside his window and saw Cade’s car turn up the small driveway that led to Isobel’s cottage. It seemed to Ethan that it lingered there an inordinately long time before swinging around and heading back to the main house.
Ethan tried desperately to ignore the not so subtle urging in the back of his mind. The one that told him to go to Isobel. To find out for himself what she’d been up to with his cousin all day. Before he was even aware of it he was turning off the lights at the winery and locking the door behind him, his feet treading the pathway to her cottage as they had only two nights ago.
Through the cottage window he could see her seated at the dining table, her laptop in front of her and a slideshow of photos up on the screen. He hesitated in the darkness, feeling like some creepy voyeur as he took in the delicate line of her neck as she bent over a notebook and scribbled something into its pages.
Damn, he’d thought not seeing her for the past couple of days would have taken some of the sharpness of the ragged edges that had remained after he’d left her bed.
He must have made a sound because she dropped her pen and whipped her head around, her eyes searching the darkness where he stood. Her actions served as the catalyst to make him move forward, to knock gently at her door. Isobel swung the door open and eyed him carefully.
“You’re starting to make this a habit, aren’t you?”
“May I come in?”
He didn’t even fully understand why he was here. All he knew was that he’d felt compelled to come. Now that she was in front of him, he barely knew what to say. His body, on the other hand, had its own agenda. Already he could feel the slow, steady drumbeat of desire through his blood.
She stepped aside and gestured for him to come in. “Can I offer you a drink? A glass of wine or something?”
“Sure,” he said, looking at the table where she had a glass of red wine sitting next to her laptop. “Whatever you’re having will be fine.”
“Are you sure?” Her eyes lit with that habitual spark of waywardness that seemed to linger around her like an aura. “It’s not one of yours.”
“Tastes like vinegar, does it?” he answered mockingly in return.
“It’s actually very good, in my opinion. Mind you, I’m no connoisseur.”
Ethan walked over and picked up the bottle, recognizing the New Zealand wine label instantly. “You’re right. Vinegar should never even be mentioned in the same room as this.”
Isobel brought him a glass and he poured the ruby liquid into the wide bowl.
“I guess you didn’t come here to discuss wine,” Isobel said, picking up her own glass and taking a sip.
For a second, Ethan was mesmerized by the tip of her tongue as she ran it along her bottom lip, but then he brought his attention very firmly back to her eyes. There was a challenge in them. One he recognized and to which he instantly felt an answering call.
“No, I didn’t. How was your day?”
His question clearly startled her and for a second or two she didn’t answer. Eventually, she took a breath and let it out slowly before speaking.
“It was good. And yours? How was your lunch with Shanal?”
“How did you know about that?”
“Was it supposed to be a secret? Cade and I saw you two walking at the botanical gardens. We didn’t stop to say hi because he was taking me into Adelaide for the rest of the day.”
Ethan felt the obscure urge to apologize for taking Shanal out, but that was ridiculous. He barely knew Isobel. They’d only been acquainted for a handful of days—and their paths would only continue to cross for a few weeks longer before she left The Masters—and him—behind. If he chose to devote his afternoon to a woman who actually intended to stick around, then what right would she have to complain?
“We
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