your senses? Of course we want people to talk. We want the words ‘Tierra de Oro’ on everyone’s lips.” He tilted his chin to them, defying them to disagree. “I want Susannah to return to New York, unable to stop talking about our wines.” He shot her a winning smile. “In fact, we were about to head to the winery, so I can make her comfortable in the tasting room.” Susannah’s eyes widened. Still, she wasn’t going to argue. As long as he wasn’t throwing her out. Ignacio spluttered and Clara issued a breathy plea for him to talk to his father, but Amado slipped his arm into Susannah’s and led her past the troubled pair, through the living room, and out into the drive. For a split second it occurred to her that he was going to pack her into her car and get rid of her as his parents had demanded. Instead he pulled open the passenger door of a large Mercedes sedan parked in the shade. She climbed in, wondering if she’d live to regret it. And if he’d live to regret not throwing her off the property. “You must be very close to your parents, to still live with them.” “They don’t live here. They built a modern house near the winery. They’re always hovering around, though. I think they worry about me. They keep badgering me to find a nice girl and settle down.” His wicked smile confirmed that he had no intention of obeying their wishes. “They’re right to be worried.” Susannah raised an eyebrow. “You seem to be looking for trouble.” “You’re wrong. Trouble has come looking for me.” His heavy lidded stare made her legs wobble. She was in trouble. At least she would be if she didn’t find a nice way to turn down his bold invitation to spend the night in his bed, yet still get her sample. She couldn’t go home without the sample. If it proved Amado wasn’t Tarrant’s son, then there might still be time to find the right person before Tarrant died. She couldn’t forgive herself if incompetence on her part denied him the chance to meet his child. She had to get Amado to agree. Still, she didn’t want to press her point too hard and scare him off. He did seem intrigued by the prospect of doing business with Hardcastle Enterprises. Maybe she could somehow use that to persuade him to go along with her request. She leaned back in the leather passenger seat and cleared her throat. “How many cases of wine do you produce each year?” Amado chuckled, staring ahead out the windshield. “Changing the subject? I guess you don’t need my DNA so badly after all.” His lips hitched into a sensual smile. “I’m disappointed.” His gaze lingered. Would he dignify her question with an answer? And what would she do if he didn’t? Being the daughter of devout missionaries didn’t really prepare you for situations like this. His big hands rested on the steering wheel. “Last year we produced nearly four thousand cases. This year, there’ll be more, as several hundred new rows are coming into full production.” “You’re growing fast.” “We have to if we’re going to make a name for ourselves.” She nodded. “Are you trying to expand your markets overseas?” “Absolutely. I’d especially like to expand into North America.” His expression was entirely genuine, nothing sexual about it. Somehow that touched her. “If your other wines are as good as this, I don’t think you’ll have any trouble securing distribution.” “We’re still small, so it must be the right distribution. Outlets where our wines will reach the right people.” “Where they’ll be appreciated.” “Exactly.” Amado drove the familiar road apparently by instinct. His eyes seemed mostly to rest on her face, which heated under his intense gaze. She struggled to keep her composure. “I think Hardcastle Enterprises could do a lot for you. In addition to our restaurants, we offer a boutique wine-selecting service for our customers. We keep their cellars stocked with the very best