breeze graced them tonight, and all around him he heard the whisper of the grape leaves; a sound he couldn't give up, wouldn't give up, not without a fight.
What did Danielle have planned for the vineyard? Would she take up the reins, take over for Phillip? Working for Danielle would be tough. She didn't know the first thing about the vineyard. Phillip had put the grapes in when she'd been twelve or thirteen. She'd left here at fifteen. He prayed she'd want to sell to him. Whitney Vineyards was more than a job to him; the vineyard was home. His last memories of his parents were here.
It still hurt that Phillip had cut him out of the will. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that Danielle would walk away and leave him everything. Why would she? She was sitting on a potential gold mine. Yet, he'd always believed that Phillip would leave him something, a share in the profits, anything. The old man knew how much he loved the place.
Nico stared into the darkness, his mind alive with his problems. The crunch of gravel sounded on the path. Danielle. Even from here he could tell it was her, her blonde hair a bright beacon in the darkness. He rose, watching her approach, disgusted at the way his pulse revved up. What was it about her? She'd grown into a beautiful woman, but he'd always known she would. Even as a teenager she'd possessed a raw sexiness, a sultry beauty he'd seen in few women.
"Hi, Nico." She paused at the base of the porch steps. "I know it's late, but I thought we should talk."
"Come up," he said.
Danielle joined him on the porch. She slipped into the rocker beside his.
Taking her time, she leaned her head back. "I'd forgotten how the stars look here. It's like someone tossed a bucket of glitter into the sky."
"What's on your mind, Danielle?"
"You know about the will," she said, the words a statement, not a question. Her attention centered on him now. "I have to live here for ninety days."
"I know."
"Any idea why?" she asked. "I've been trying to come up with a reason. Is he trying to torture me one last time?"
Her words set him on edge. Phillip didn't deserve her scorn. "You know his reason. He's hoping you'll get to know the vineyard."
"Why now, after he's dead?" she asked. "He's barely given me the time of day for years. Doesn't it seem strange to you?"
"Your father thinks you belong here."
"What a load of crap," she said, a hard note to her tone. "I don't belong here. I never did."
He didn't reply because deep down he prayed she was right.
"I know you were close to my father. He made that clear in the will. You'll inherit if I walk away. Well, I'm not walking away, but I am going to sell as soon as I can. Germaine Cellars has already approached me."
She was going to sell . Did she think she was delivering bad news? He bit back his smile.
"Don't sell to Germaine," he said. "Sell to me."
"You're interested?" She cocked her head to the side.
"Very."
"I wondered if you would be." A tired sigh left her lips. She leaned back in the rocker, setting the chair in motion. "Can you meet market price?"
His stomach tightened. Right now his finances were in a tangled mess. He wondered how much he should tell her. He decided to play it safe, for now. "By the time you put the vineyard on the market, I'll be ready to buy."
"Thank goodness, because I'm not staying here one day longer than I have to." She stood.
She seemed so cold, so unattached to the vineyard, so unmoved by Phillip's death. He had a sudden, burning need to know why. "What happened between you and your father?"
"Nothing I want to talk about."
"Your father's last words were for you. He said, 'tell Danielle I love her. I'm sorry.'"
She turned abruptly, and walked to the porch railing, her eyes on Whitney House. "Yeah, well, he had a lot to be sorry for."
"He left you the vineyard." Nico came to his feet and walked to her. "Doesn't that say something to you?"
"It says manipulation."
"Manipulation?" he echoed incredulously. "This isn't a
What did Danielle have planned for the vineyard? Would she take up the reins, take over for Phillip? Working for Danielle would be tough. She didn't know the first thing about the vineyard. Phillip had put the grapes in when she'd been twelve or thirteen. She'd left here at fifteen. He prayed she'd want to sell to him. Whitney Vineyards was more than a job to him; the vineyard was home. His last memories of his parents were here.
It still hurt that Phillip had cut him out of the will. He wasn't stupid enough to believe that Danielle would walk away and leave him everything. Why would she? She was sitting on a potential gold mine. Yet, he'd always believed that Phillip would leave him something, a share in the profits, anything. The old man knew how much he loved the place.
Nico stared into the darkness, his mind alive with his problems. The crunch of gravel sounded on the path. Danielle. Even from here he could tell it was her, her blonde hair a bright beacon in the darkness. He rose, watching her approach, disgusted at the way his pulse revved up. What was it about her? She'd grown into a beautiful woman, but he'd always known she would. Even as a teenager she'd possessed a raw sexiness, a sultry beauty he'd seen in few women.
"Hi, Nico." She paused at the base of the porch steps. "I know it's late, but I thought we should talk."
"Come up," he said.
Danielle joined him on the porch. She slipped into the rocker beside his.
Taking her time, she leaned her head back. "I'd forgotten how the stars look here. It's like someone tossed a bucket of glitter into the sky."
"What's on your mind, Danielle?"
"You know about the will," she said, the words a statement, not a question. Her attention centered on him now. "I have to live here for ninety days."
"I know."
"Any idea why?" she asked. "I've been trying to come up with a reason. Is he trying to torture me one last time?"
Her words set him on edge. Phillip didn't deserve her scorn. "You know his reason. He's hoping you'll get to know the vineyard."
"Why now, after he's dead?" she asked. "He's barely given me the time of day for years. Doesn't it seem strange to you?"
"Your father thinks you belong here."
"What a load of crap," she said, a hard note to her tone. "I don't belong here. I never did."
He didn't reply because deep down he prayed she was right.
"I know you were close to my father. He made that clear in the will. You'll inherit if I walk away. Well, I'm not walking away, but I am going to sell as soon as I can. Germaine Cellars has already approached me."
She was going to sell . Did she think she was delivering bad news? He bit back his smile.
"Don't sell to Germaine," he said. "Sell to me."
"You're interested?" She cocked her head to the side.
"Very."
"I wondered if you would be." A tired sigh left her lips. She leaned back in the rocker, setting the chair in motion. "Can you meet market price?"
His stomach tightened. Right now his finances were in a tangled mess. He wondered how much he should tell her. He decided to play it safe, for now. "By the time you put the vineyard on the market, I'll be ready to buy."
"Thank goodness, because I'm not staying here one day longer than I have to." She stood.
She seemed so cold, so unattached to the vineyard, so unmoved by Phillip's death. He had a sudden, burning need to know why. "What happened between you and your father?"
"Nothing I want to talk about."
"Your father's last words were for you. He said, 'tell Danielle I love her. I'm sorry.'"
She turned abruptly, and walked to the porch railing, her eyes on Whitney House. "Yeah, well, he had a lot to be sorry for."
"He left you the vineyard." Nico came to his feet and walked to her. "Doesn't that say something to you?"
"It says manipulation."
"Manipulation?" he echoed incredulously. "This isn't a
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