Uh-huh.
“Why not take her to dinner? If you’re going to do business together, you could at least be a good host and show her Granada.”
Considering how the last time they were alone he’d nearly ravished Everleigh against a cellar wall, dinner with her was the last thing he needed.
“I’m busy.”
To his surprise, Isabella didn’t push. She walked around the desk and planted a kiss on the top of his head. As much as he tried to maintain his neutrality, the motherly gesture produced in him a longing he hadn’t felt in years. He jerked away before he could stop himself.
Isabella reared back as if she’d been slapped. He saw the flash of pain across her face, and in that moment he hated her for it. She had been the one to inflict years of heartache on him. And now she just expected his forgiveness...?
In all the years she’d been trying to worm her way back into his life she’d never once apologized for the hell she’d put her three-year-old son through. One day his mother had gone to the hospital, happy and devoted and ready to bring home a baby—a sister Adrian had envisioned sharing his toys with. The next Isabella had come out of the hospital empty-handed, a hollow shell of her former self who could barely look at him.
She’d no longer dried his tears when he had a nightmare. There had been no more afternoons spent splashing in the pool. His mother had disappeared into her room, and whenever Adrian had asked for her Abuela had been the only one to respond to his cries. It had finally sunk in a year later, when she’d come back once more from the hospital, with a baby boy in her arms she couldn’t stop smiling at, that she no longer loved him.
“Just remember,” Isabella called over her shoulder as she walked to the door. “I didn’t raise you to hide from something that scares you.”
“You didn’t raise me at all.”
The cruel words hung in the air between them. Isabella paused, her shoulders slumping. He waited. Would she finally say something?
She walked out, closing the door softly behind her. Running, as she always did.
She’d started to show an interest in him again around the time of Abuela’s death. She’d played with his emotions, reeled him in with meaningless gestures and made a small part of him hope they could reconcile.
But when he’d tried to talk to her about the past she’d always run away with her tail between her legs, dashing his hopes repeatedly, until he’d just stopped hoping and started throwing his walls up again. The lack of emotion had been a welcome respite from the constant up and down—the torture of ceding control again and again, only to be faced with more pain. Never an apology, never an explanation.
He’d never figured out what his mother’s end game was. Assuaging her own guilt? It clearly wasn’t making amends for the trauma she’d inflicted on her oldest child. And the one time he’d broached the subject with his father, he’d merely said it wasn’t his story to tell.
Adrian sat back in his chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. As tense as their relationship was, he didn’t enjoy hurting his mother. But her accusation that he was scared of Everleigh had been a slap in the face. The emotions he’d been feeling for her were coming too fast. Most likely rooted in a combination of lack of sex and the novelty of Everleigh compared with the women he normally dated.
Fresh off a rigorous year of preparing for the launch of the Merlot, and not experiencing any female companionship, it was only understandable that he’d had an extreme reaction.
An extreme reaction that included daydreaming of Everleigh...of swiping the papers off his desk and laying her, naked, on the smooth surface so he could...
Stop!
He just needed to keep his desires at bay until the sale was done and he could get her out of his house and back to the United States.
Yet what his mother had said about connecting with Everleigh in a strictly professional way made sense. At the very least Everleigh would be a part of Fox. If he chose her for director of Fox Vineyards they would need to have a good working relationship.
After their disagreement on the plane he wondered if, given her resentment, she’d contribute her best efforts to Fox’s success. Having resentful employees was never a good business practice. Perhaps behaving in a more conciliatory manner would be in his best interests.
Before he questioned himself again, he stood and stalked out through the door, up the stairs and down the hall to her room. He knocked once.
“Just a minute!”
The smile disappeared from Everleigh’s face as soon as she opened the door. She’d changed into black yoga pants that hugged her legs and a light blue T-shirt with the Fox Vineyards logo emblazoned across her chest. Had he ever found a woman in such casual wear sexy?
“Oh. Hello.”
He arched one brow. “You were expecting someone else?”
“No.” She leaned against the doorframe and crossed her arms, the move making her breasts shift under her shirt. “Just not you.”
“Then perhaps this isn’t the best time to invite you to dinner.”
Those violet eyes widened in astonishment. He liked it that he’d thrown her off balance—a fair trade for her surprising him on the plane, when she’d leaned so close he’d been able to feel the warmth of her body and smell the exotic perfume clinging to her skin. He’d tasted her mouth, but what would the rest of her taste like? Would she arch and sigh as he kissed her breasts, or bury her hands in his hair and demand satisfaction as he licked the soft folds between her thighs?