Dynasties Collection

To her relief, he let it slide.

“No, you shouldn’t have. And I’ll accept that as an apology.”

She wouldn’t have gone so far as to call it an apology. Annoyance made her bristle like a cat stroked the wrong way. “That’s big of you.”

He expelled an impatient sigh. “You know, this isn’t going to work. Go back to California—I’ll find someone else to stand in for Art.”

Avery stared at him, aghast. This was what she’d wanted … but now that he was telling her to go, she knew there was no way she could ever tell Art she’d let him down. “I promised Art—”

Guy was shaking his head. “Art and I were scheduled to do two talks together,” he said, “and it’s clear that you’re not going to be able to cooperate.”

Oh, dear God, what had Art gotten her into? He’d muttered something about a panel on wine selection and a presentation about the importance of superior service in a world-class establishment but that had been all. There’d been no mention of a joint presentation with anyone, let alone Guy Jarrod.

She should never have come….

Uncle Art’s pleading voice played through her head. She hadn’t had a choice. To think she’d considered speaking at such a prestigious event, the opportunity of a lifetime. But this wasn’t about her … it was about what she owed Uncle Art and Aunt Tilly.

She’d never lived up to Aunt Tilly’s hopes. But Uncle Art was proud of her. He’d taken her in after his sister and brother-in-law—had died in a sailing accident. He’d loved her, cherished her, supported her. For her uncle she would walk across burning embers—barefoot. Except he’d never asked that of her.

He’d run interference on her behalf with Aunt Tilly when she’d refused to attend another beauty pageant or talent show. He’d supported her when she’d bailed out of drama school. He’d never asked anything of her. Until now.

Her shoulders sagged. “Of course I’ll cooperate with you.” Within reason. No sex with his friends and colleagues. More to the point, no sex with Guy Jarrod. Period. “Just tell me what you need me to do.”

“Have an oyster.”

They’d decadently shared oysters in bed one memorable Monday when Baratin had been closed. They’d risen late. He’d fed them to her … interspersed with kisses … it had ended up in one of the most erotic encounters of her life. Surely he wasn’t referring to that?

It took a moment for the shocked daze to clear and for Avery to realize he was holding out a platter where oysters on the half shell nestled between fat wedges of lemon and translucent ice cubes.

“They’re perfectly shucked. I oversaw the preparation myself. No sand or broken shells. Just succulent flesh with a hint of juice.”

For a brief second she caught a glimpse of the Guy she’d thought she’d known so well. Wicked mirth sparkled in his gray-black eyes and warmed her.

Irresistible, damn him.

She resisted the charm with a toss of her head. “No, thanks. I’m quite sated.”

The laughter evaporated. “I’m sure you are.”

The platter disappeared into the hands of a hovering waiter. Avery searched Guy’s face but could find no trace of the bitterness the words suggested. She must’ve imagined it.

“My schedule for the next couple of weeks of the festival is ferocious.” Guy continued as if they’d never shared that crazy moment. “Art offered to do most of the work to put the first presentation together.”

That got her back on track. That’s why he didn’t want her speaking? He considered her too inept, did he? Believed she couldn’t do what Art had undertaken to do? Avery suspected she was going to regret not leaping at the opportunity of escape Guy offered. Instead, her innate love for a challenge surged, and she found herself saying, “I can do that.”

He didn’t look convinced. In fact, he looked downright dubious. “Not only was Art doing two talks with me, he had a solo presentation planned.”

“On the importance of superior service—I know.”

“And he was contracted to look over the resort’s wine lists and compile a report of his findings about service levels,” Guy continued as though she hadn’t interrupted. “It will have to wait until he’s fit to come out here himself.”

“No, it won’t. Art and I discussed this, I’ll do it in his place. That won’t be any problem at all.”

A waiter offered Guy a glass of champagne. Unconsciously Avery noted that the waiter’s white jacket was pristine and carefully pressed, his handling of the tray deft. The resort staff were evidently well-trained.

Guy glanced at her still-full glass before helping himself from the proffered tray. “It’s a pity I don’t share your confidence,” he said in a clipped voice, and Avery’s approving smile to the waiter froze.

She turned her full attention back to the man whose reappearance in her life had caused such inner turmoil, caused so many memories and emotions, which she’d thought she’d suppressed, to waken.

“Oh?”

Avery cringed and dropped her gaze to stare at the bubbles rising merrily in the pale golden liquid in her own glass. Oh? Was that the best she could do? What had happened to her intelligence? Her wit? Her sass? Was she going to let this arrogant jerk walk all over her?

She was the one with a problem, not him!

She hated him.

Blindly she set her glass down.

She would be professional. Reasonable. And blow him away with her expertise. “Look, I’ve overhauled plenty of wine lists, I’ve trained junior sommeliers and other staff, I’ve done lots of public speaking.” She jabbed her right index finger against the fingers of her left hand as she counted off the list. “I’ve taught, and I’ve even had my own TV show. That should boost your confidence a little.”

“The TV show lasted all of four episodes.”

Avery colored. The show had been axed. Because the ratings hadn’t been good enough, she’d been told. She suspected there could have been more episodes—if she’d been prepared to sleep with the producer, when he’d made that suggestion. But that price had been too high. Avery had quit—despite Aunt Tilly’s disappointment. And the producer had found another—more accommodating—sommelier. It hadn’t surprised Avery when that show had ended in scandal and tears. Losing the program hadn’t been the first time her sex-kitten looks had mucked up her life.

Even Guy was giving her the kind of once-over that left her enraged … and uncharacteristically flustered. But by the time his gaze came back to meet her own furious gaze, his was filled with contempt. And something else. Something that caused her heart to leap.

Avery resisted it.

There was no room for this … this … unwanted feeling. She was over Guy Jarrod. He was a bastard. And she had no intention of ever returning to the misery he’d caused her.

She could do this. She knew it. But first she had to convince him.

Lifting her chin a notch, she readied herself for a fight. “Cuisine stated that the new wine list at your New York restaurant had been put together ‘with artistry and sophisticated style'. I wouldn’t deliver anything less here.”

“This isn’t Baratin, Avery. Jarrod Ridge has four restaurants and six bars. The selection of wines, beers and alcoholic beverages served in each of those needs to be overhauled, as you put it. Don’t forget I’ve read your résumé. You’ve never handled a project of this scope.”

He didn’t blink as he delivered his verdict in a calm, controlled voice. Avery knew he didn’t believe she was up for the task. She forced herself not to look away from that alarming scrutiny. “I’m sure I can discuss whether I’m capable of completing the task with whoever is in charge of overseeing the menus and service requirements.”

“That would be me.” His crooked smile held no amusement, even if it did cause two nearby women to give him admiring glances. “I’m looking at introducing new dishes, and the beverages need to be matched to give a perfect selection.”

“I’d be working with you?“

He nodded and raised his glass. “Do you want to toast to the success of our partnership?” The irony was acute.

Two could play that game. Avery reached for the glass on the table behind her and raised it with bravado.

“To success!”

Champagne splashed out, almost landing on her yellow silk dress.

“Careful!” Guy gripped her wrist with his free hand and the crisis was averted.

“Thanks,” she murmured. “I would’ve hated to have ruined this dress.”

“That didn’t augur well.” He quirked an eyebrow. “Still want to stay?”

In truth, she was ready to run. She’d never admit that. Especially not to him.

“Of course.” She tilted up her chin. “You won’t get rid of me that easily.”

A fierce and stormy emotion flickered across his face. Then his thumb moved against her wrist, and his hold eased a degree. The frisson of awareness that shot through her was as unwelcome as the knowledge that they’d be working together—far too closely for Avery’s comfort—for the duration of her stay.

It would be an impossible situation.

She raised her hand, his fell away, and she took a gulp of champagne. Then sneezed.

“Steady.”

Her eyes were streaming.

“The bubbles always make me sneeze.”

“How unfortunate for a sommelier!”

She wiped her tears away with her fingertips. “That’s what my family thinks, too. It’s one downside of the job.”

“That’s why you’ve barely drunk any tonight—and why you never wanted champagne in the past.”

Arrested by his statement, Avery stared at him. He’d been watching her. For how long? And … why?

How could she work with a man she’d once upon a time hoped she was falling in love with? A man to whom her body unfurled like a sunflower to the sun. A man she now hated.

“Here, let me take that.”

Numbly she opened her hand and relinquished the glass. Guy set it back down on the table behind them.

How could she let Uncle Art down? He’d been the rock in her life. How could she turn her back on him when he needed her?

Avery swallowed. The short answer was, she couldn’t. “So—” Guy faced her again “—you’re staying then.”

She swallowed her objections. “I can take the heat in the kitchen,” she said rashly, “can you?”

There was a moment of throbbing silence. Then he said softly, “I can take anything you care to dish out.”

“You’re the chef, you’re the expert at dishing out.”

Avery didn’t care if he heard her disillusionment. Between Guy and his friend Jeff they’d shattered the dreams she’d spun around the man in front of her, the man she’d convinced herself was her perfect life partner.

That night Guy had sent Jeff to her for her birthday had made her grow up….

Pushing past him, she said, “Now, I need to go find Matt.”

Three

Day one down … just over three weeks more to endure.

Yet despite her dread about Guy’s presence, Avery had managed to successfully avoid him and her first full day at the Jarrod Ridge Food and Wine Gala had passed in a buzz of excitement. She’d found herself indulging in celebrity spotting like some wide-eyed teenager. There’d been the handsome hero of a popular soap, a pop diva with rainbow-streaked hair and a hunky, tanned tennis star.

In the afternoon, she’d sidled in to listen to the presentation her cousin Matt was giving, and joined him in the trendy sky lounge on the covered rooftop of Jarrod Manor for a too-quick drink afterward.

“This is the kind of world Mom always wanted for you, pumpkin.” Matt stretched his legs and lounged back in the leather armchair. “She was certain you’d be a star.”

Avery wrinkled her nose. “Despite all the classes, I never had any acting talent. I would’ve made an awful beauty queen—too short. And you know I hate being called pumpkin. I’m twenty-seven years old.” But there was no heat in the objection that had already been made a million times before.

Matt chuckled—as she’d known he would. “You really did look like a pumpkin when you arrived to live with us. Chubby and wearing orange dungarees—don’t know why Mom ever thought you’d win any of those baby pageants.”

“Chubby? Oh, you!” But she laughed up into his teasing face. “I was two—hardly a baby. And it’s your fault Aunt Tilly craved a little girl, you were all such hooligans.” As much as the four scruffy boys had overwhelmed her in the beginning, she’d grown to love them all—even her well-meaning aunt. El Dorado, the boutique vineyard her uncle had acquired shortly before her arrival, had become home.

“When do you leave for home?” Her cousins still based themselves at El Dorado—as did she when in California.

“I fly out first thing in the morning.” Matt unfolded himself from the armchair and rose, yawning, to his full height. “I’ve still got to prepare for my meeting tomorrow.”

Avery scrambled to her feet.

“I wish you could stay longer.” A wistful note crept into her voice. It was cowardly wishing Matt would stay to help her cope with Guy. Yet his departure felt like a desertion.

“No chance, pumpkin.” Matt threw an affectionate arm around her shoulders. “It was hard enough taking these two days out my schedule, but it was worth the exposure that today’s talk gave the business.”

“You did great.”

She gave Matt a fierce hug and hoped he hadn’t detected the desperation behind it. Those hopes were dashed as he held her at arm’s length and studied her face.

“Dad will be okay.” All teasing vanished, leaving his expression unexpectedly serious. “Don’t wear yourself down with worry.”

He’d sensed her unease but he’d attributed it to the wrong cause. Immediately guilt constricted her chest. She’d been so busy fretting about Guy, she’d hardly spared a thought for her uncle. Selfish!

Taking a deep breath she said. “Make sure your dad looks after himself. I don’t like that he’s ill.”

“He’s a tough old codger.” Matt gave her a squeeze. “He’ll be fine—you’ll see. Mom will coddle him to death. But I’ll give him your love when I see him tomorrow.”

Over Matt’s arm Avery found herself looking into a pair of stormy eyes. Guy Jarrod. Then the shutters came down, and all expression leached out, leaving her wondering if she’d imagined the flash of emotion.

Ignore him, she commanded herself. He’s not worth the heartache. She hoped she’d be able to follow her own advice in the weeks to come.

Avery made herself glance away from Guy’s blank stare to give her cousin a wobbly smile. “I’ve decided to spoil myself. I’ve booked a massage at the resort spa and I’ll have a soak in a hot tub afterwards. That should guarantee I’ll sleep like a baby tonight.”

“I suspect you haven’t done enough of that lately.”

“What do you mean?” She stared at her cousin in surprise.

“I’m not going to pry, but you came back from New York looking like a wraith. It was all we could do to stop Mom interrogating you.”

Avery felt herself flush. “You’re joking!”

“We love you, pumpkin. You’re family. If I ever meet the man who put that bruised look in your eyes, I’ll be giving him a few bruises of his own.”

Matt’s tone was light but his eyes were deadly serious. She didn’t dare glance past him to see where Guy was. If Matt knew that Guy had expected her to sleep with his friend, before returning to join the ménage à trois himself, her cousin would be ready to kill him.

She gave a dismissive laugh. “He was nothing!”

“Get over him,” Matt said gruffly.

“Oh, I intend to.” She smiled at him. “When you see me again I’ll be heart-whole and fancy-free. Who knows, later in the week I might go shopping … do a little sightseeing.”

“Or find yourself a hot lover.”

“Matthew!”

“If you’re going to live it up, pumpkin,” Matt grinned down at her, “Aspen is the place to do it. Indulge yourself. No regrets. And, don’t worry, I’ll keep you updated about Dad.”

“Thanks, you’re the best.” She stood on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his cheek in a gesture of gratitude and affection.

Giving up on wrestling her foolish need to search out Guy, Avery turned her head. To her relief the man who had haunted her nightmares was nowhere to be seen.

The sight of brass letters on the wall announcing Tranquility Spa was enough to ease some of the diabolical tension that had been building ever since Avery’s encounter with Guy yesterday.

The first thing Avery noticed was the calming sound of water as she entered the spa. Water trickled down stone fountains set in wall panels along the reception area. Between the fountains scenic paintings formed vistas of incredible beauty.

Two women were talking behind a long counter carved from pale, polished wood, and one turned as the front door clicked shut.

“Avery?”

The gold badge the woman wore read Melissa Jarrod, Manager. With her long, wavy blond hair and blue eyes there was little resemblance to Guy’s dark hair and metallic, almost black, eyes. Perhaps Melissa Jarrod was a cousin or married to one of his brothers.

Giving a hesitant smile, Avery said, “Yes, I have an appointment for a massage.”

Melissa glanced at the flat computer screen on the desk, and said to the nervous-looking woman beside her, “Rita, would you let Joanie know her client is here? I’m going to leave now, I’m so tired I can barely stand.” With a sweet smile to Avery she said, “Let me show you where your treatment room is.”

Melissa did look pale, Avery thought as she followed the other woman down a corridor where smaller wall fountains were set between wooden doors.

“You’re in the Red Room,” said Melissa. “The saunas and steam rooms are further along. I’d recommend fifteen minutes in one of the steam rooms after your massage, followed by a soak in a hot tub.”

“Sounds fabulous.” Avery had every intention of following that advice.

Melissa pushed the next door along open, and Avery glimpsed an interior painted a shade of welcoming red ochre. A huge seascape of a dramatic sunset dominated one wall, while a dark red massage bed with a soft throw stood in the foreground. Farther back sprawled a large, wood-paneled hot tub with an ice bucket resting in a black wrought-iron stand beside it. Three fat white candles cast a soft glow, adding to the womb-like warmth of the room.

“Oh, wow!”

The other woman laughed. “You may have gathered that our mission at Tranquility Spa is to ensure that you relax.”

Avery stepped into the embrace of the warm, sensuous room and gave a sigh of contentment.

“Can I pour you a glass of champagne?”

“No, but I’ll definitely help myself to some of those while I soak.” Avery pointed to the tray of dark chocolate truffles at the side of the tub. “What a heavenly, decadent treat.”

“You can change out of your clothes.” Melissa was smiling as she handed Avery a soft towel. “Joanie will be here in a few minutes to give you your massage.”

The massage passed in a delightful haze of well-being. Avery felt her muscles easing as the pent-up tightness dissipated under Joanie’s skilled fingers. Guy had loved stroking his hands along her back when they made love….

Yes, if she was brutally truthful, she’d missed the passion they’d shared. Missed laughing with him at the end of a day when they sat in the massive tub in his starkly modern apartment after sating themselves in his king-size bed. But she hadn’t been prepared to pay the cost that Guy had demanded.

A cost she’d never expected.

His promise that he had a surprise in store for her birthday had caused a surge of hope … after all, she’d fallen for him like a ton of bricks. Even though she’d sensed his reticence about commitment, she’d hoped.

He’d promised a surprise.

It was her birthday.

Maybe.

Avery had been almost too scared to hope.

Yet when she’d opened the door of Guy’s apartment that evening, the last thing she’d expected had been Jeff. She’d met Guy’s business partner twice before. Briefly. He’d seemed pleasant enough. What she had managed to piece together was that Guy and Jeff had started Go Green fueled by a desire to create a place where consumers could find all-green cookware and cooking technology for a green, clean diet. Avery loved the concept … and Guy was convinced that the corporation was already making a difference to people’s mindsets.

Yet the Jeff bouncing up and down on the doorstep hardly resembled the mild man she’d encountered previously. “Yes?” she asked.

“Guy asked me to drop in, he’s been held up at Baratin.”

Typical. Guy had gotten into the workaholic groove at his beloved Baratin and spending time with her on her birthday had been shoved onto the back burner.

Quashing her qualms about letting Jeff in, Avery stepped back. “Come in.”

Jeff followed her through the sky-lit lobby where the white walls were lined with modern abstracts into a spacious lounge with polished dark-wood floors, leather furniture and floor-to-ceiling windows.

“I’m to escort you down to Baratin for your birthday dinner in—” Jeff glanced at his ornate watch “—just under an hour.”

So Guy hadn’t forgotten about her birthday. The leap of joy was quickly followed by a feeling of letdown. He hadn’t cared enough to collect her himself for their date.

“Thank you, that’s very kind of you.”

Jeff flung himself down onto the closest couch and grinned up at her. “I try.”

“Can I get you a drink?”

“Bourbon. Neat. On ice. Thanks.”

Avery crossed to the tallboy that housed Guy’s bar. The clink of ice cubes followed by the gurgle of bourbon filling the glass broke the silence. When she turned it was to find Jeff examining her in a way he’d never done before.

A frisson of discomfort feathered along her spine.

Stop it. He’s Guy’s friend, his business partner, someone he trusts, she told herself. She handed the drink to Jeff. Before she could retreat his free hand snaked out and he hauled her onto his lap.

Then he was kissing her, wet, alcohol-drenched kisses that made her stomach turn, muttering fantasies that made her cringe. A furious struggle, and she was on her feet.

“Get out.”

He stood. “Don’t be so hasty, sweetheart.” Avery was trembling with outrage, fear … and something else.

“Go, and don’t come back.” She backed away. A glance showed her that her cell phone lay on the sideboard. “I’m calling Guy.”

Jeff laughed. “That’s not going to help you.”

“What do you mean?”

“He knows, sweetheart.”

Avery froze, her heart thumping in her chest. “Knows what?”

“He sent me, remember?”

“To play taxi driver.” She tossed her hair back.

“Oh, you are an innocent.” It didn’t sound such a good thing the way Jeff said it—and the way his eyes roved over her made her feel grubby. “Despite that fantastically sexy little body.”

“Guy wouldn’t want to hear you saying things like that.” He laughed again. “Guy sent me. I’m your birthday present.”

Horror shook her. “What do you mean?”

“Guy sent me to pleasure you. I’m to chauffeur you to Baratin when we’re done. Then we were going to feed you your favourite foods.” He licked his lips suggestively. “Afterwards all three of us were going to share dessert.” There was no mistaking his meaning. “Guy wanted it to be a birthday you’d never forget.”

Jeff reached for her. “No!” She slapped his hand away. His face contorted. “Come here.” As his hands clamped down on her shoulders, Avery kicked him in the shins. “Ouch, you—”

She didn’t wait to hear more. The front door seemed a mile away but she made it. Once outside she looked both ways before bolting for the stairwell. And cocked her head to listen, while her heartbeat slowed, until she was sure that Jeff hadn’t followed.

Then she brushed her fingers across her eyes, surprised to find no residue of tears.

This had been Guy’s surprise?

Even now, lying facedown on the massage bed, surrounded by the soft light of scented candles, she could still remember the maelstrom of emotions that had shaken her that night. By gifting his friend to her for the evening of her birthday and expecting her to sleep with Jeff, Guy had destroyed her trust.