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Chapter One
The coach rumbled up the road to the vineyard. Claire Graham lurched to her feet and tried not to let her distaste show. There was always one on every tour. One client who thought she was part of the package deal. This time it was Dave, a good old boy from the midlands of America, who had decided to get himself ‘a real live Aussie girl.’ From the start of the tour two weeks ago, Dave had pestered, cajoled and annoyed her, demanding she spend time with him, refusing to accept her repeated citing of company rules, banning fraternization with clients.
She stepped over his outstretched legs and into the aisle, ignoring the hands that grabbed at her hips. Although she felt more like snarling, she plastered a professional smile on her lips and picked up the microphone. “Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Hunter’s Rest Vineyard. Today’s program begins with a tour of the vineyards, conducted by Hunter’s Rest vintner, Bob James. This will be followed by a tasting of the local wines and a banquet dinner featuring the best of the Valley’s food and wine. You’ll overnight at the luxuriously appointed Hunter’s Rest Lodge.
This is the last event on your itinerary, so enjoy yourselves. There’ll be plenty of time to recover in the morning. The coach taking you to the airport won’t leave until ten. Our transit specialist will meet you there and take care of everything leading up to your departure. Since I won’t be seeing you again, I’d like to say farewell and thank you for choosing Australian Exclusive Gourmet Tours. I hope you’ve enjoyed your holiday, sampling the best of Australia’s culinary delights.”
She made her personal farewells as the group left the bus, and wandered over to where the Hunter’s Rest staff waited. She turned away, hoping to escape before…
“Claire! Wait up.” She winced. Persistent, sleazy, overconfident David. She should have guessed he wouldn’t leave with the others. “Aren’t you coming too? C’mon, Claire. It’s our last chance to spend some time together. You’ve been saying no to me all trip.”
“And I’ll keep saying no, David. It’s against company policy to spend personal time with the clients.”
“But your job is finished. I’m not a client anymore. It’ll be just you an’ me babe. Man and woman.”
Claire rolled her eyes. Surely he didn’t think he was being suave or attractive. No one was that out of touch.
Still, she was paid to be nice to the clients. “David, it’s not possible for us to spend time together.”
“Hey, my ticket’s flexible. I don’t have to go home yet. Wadda you say babe? How ‘bout you an’ me go off for a little vacation of our own?”
Claire unclenched her teeth. “The group is waiting David. Please join them. I have things to do.
Dave leered. “You could do me, babe.”
Claire felt her lips narrow, and anger heat her blood. Her smile felt like a grimace.
She curled her tongue tightly around the words she wanted to utter. She couldn’t afford to put her job at risk.
Dave put his head on one side and squinted at her. “Hey, babe, don’t stress it. Never let it be said I am not an understanding man. If you’ve got work to do, I can wait. Later, Babe.” He made a gun shape with his forefinger and thumb, fired off an imaginary bullet, then wandered off to rejoin the group.
As soon as his back was turned, Claire fled to the sanctuary of the small rec room the vineyard provided for the use of the tour guides and drivers. It was deserted, as usual. The coach drivers generally preferred to stay with their coach, and while the room was shared with vineyard workers, Claire seldom saw them there. It was quiet and private, an excellent place to finalize her paperwork.
She was working her way through the pile of documents, when the slap of the screen door caught her attention. Hearing the words, “Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you.” in the American accent that had become far too familiar in the two weeks she’d spent fending off Dave’s advances, her temper soared. Without turning around to look at him, ignoring all the rules of professional courtesy, she let fly. “This is a private area. You’re not allowed in here. Go back to the tour group and leave me alone. There is absolutely no point in dogging me like this. I’m not going out with you. It’s against company rules, and even if it weren’t, I just plain don’t like you. Is that clear?”
A deep voice, rich with amusement and suddenly, appallingly, obviously, not Dave’s, said. “It’s hard to imagine how it could be any clearer. Although I’m not sure what I’ve done to deserve it. Have we met? Because if we have, and I made that bad an impression on you, I think I ought to have remembered it.”
Claire spun around in her seat. She looked up at the total stranger standing in the doorway.
His thumbs were hooked into the front pockets of a faded pair of jeans. His lightly curled fingers seemed to draw attention to the rippled bulge of his groin. He leaned against the door jamb, his dusty boots crossed at the ankles. The long straight cut of his jeans emphasized the long straight line of his legs.
His chambray shirt was unbuttoned to reveal the play of light and shadow over taut rows of muscle. Sleeves rolled to the elbows highlighted smooth, powerful forearms with corded veins that drew her eye and begged to be…
She gave herself a mental slap in the head. She was staring at the man like she was a starving woman, and he was the world’s biggest hunk of chocolate.
