Authors: Yvonne Lindsay
The Wayward Son
The best-laid plans
Judd Wilson finally has his chance for revenge. He will dismantle his estranged father’s cherished business empire and—the icing on the cake—steal the man’s ravishing mistress. Certainly the sizzling attraction Judd feels for Anna Garrick will only make his vengeance sweeter.
But as fascination becomes insatiable desire, Judd begins to question his intent. He’d believed the worst of his father, and of Anna. Now, when long-buried family deceits are uncovered, Anna’s fierce loyalty to his father forces Judd to rethink his plans—because destroying the man who hurt him will mean losing Anna, too....
“Don't you ever wonder?”
“Wonder what?” she asked, her voice that husky whisper that did crazy things to him.
“What it will be like when we kiss again.”
“Who said we'll kiss again?”
“Oh, we will. Don't you want to know if what happened the first time will happen again? Whether we could be
that
good, again?”
She blinked and drew in a breath, the word
no
beginning to form on her lips. The sound never made it out as he closed the short distance between them, caressing her lips with his.
The sensation that shuddered through his body was intense. Even more potent than the last time. He stepped closer, aligning his body with hers. She met his assault with a parry of her own, clinging to him.
His need to possess her overwhelmed everything elseâevery need, every thought, other than one. He wanted Anna Garrick like he'd never wanted anything in his life before.
* * *
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Dear Reader,
Once again a historical home has inspired a story idea—well, in this case, multiple story ideas.
I had the great good fortune to be invited to speak at the South Australian Romance Authors one-day workshop in May of 2010, and in the days afterward I was shown some of the stunning countryside through the Adelaide Hills and beyond. During the workshop day, one of the attendees, a marriage celebrant, was telling us about one of the most interesting weddings she’d conducted in the ruins of a gothic mansion high on the hills. I didn’t have time to actually visit the ruins at Marble Hill, but I did spend a lot of time on their website fascinated by the building, its destruction and the current plans to rebuild it to its former glory. A spark of an idea formed.
With my mind ticking away, I had the additional brain power of my good friend Trish Morey to storm up some ideas, and by the time I arrived home those ideas began to morph into this new miniseries, starting with
The Wayward Son
and continuing next month with
A Forbidden Affair.
In many ways creating the backstory of these books was just as fascinating as creating the books themselves, and I look forward to bringing you more of The Master Vintners in coming years.
Happy reading!
Yvonne Lindsay
Yvonne Lindsay
The Wayward Son
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Other titles by this author
available in ebook format.
YVONNE LINDSAY
New Zealand born, to Dutch
immigrant parents, Yvonne Lindsay became an avid romance reader at the age
of thirteen. Now, married to her “blind date” and with two fabulous
children, she remains a firm believer in the power of romance. Yvonne feels
privileged to be able to bring to her readers the stories of her heart. In
her spare time, when not writing, she can be found with her nose firmly
in a book, reliving the power of love in all walks of life. She can be
contacted via her website, www.yvonnelindsay.com.
To E.M.
âIn the immortal words of Casper, “Can I keep you?”
One
S
he hadn’t seen anything quite this beautiful in forever. The exquisitely colored autumnal landscape aside, the figure of the man chopping wood in the distance, shirt off, muscles rippling in the still-warm Adelaide Hills sunshine, was quite enough to remind Anna of every hormonal response her body was capable of. And then some.
Never averse to indulging in appreciation of the male form—even if her busy work-filled schedule meant she rarely did anything about it—she walked a little closer. A tingle of awareness skimmed across her skin, raising goose bumps on the surface, which had nothing to do with the hint of evening breeze that rolled through the hills. It was only when she was about twenty meters from him that recognition hit her with all the subtlety of a bucket of ice water.
Judd Wilson.
Her entire reason for being in Australia.
Although they’d never met, there was no mistaking Charles Wilson’s son. Obviously tall, Judd had dark hair and warmly tanned skin stretched over a physique that was the epitome of every woman’s fantasy. His sharply sculpted features hinted at a resemblance to his father. She’d hazard a guess his eyes were the same piercing blue, as well.
Anna was surprised when her inner muscles clenched on a purely instinctive female reaction and her heart stuttered a little in her chest. She hadn’t responded this strongly to anyone in a while, and she sure as hell never expected to feel so drawn to the son of the man who was not only her employer, but practically a father to her. She drew in a deep breath and forced back the flood of attraction that threatened to swamp her anew—reminding herself that she was here on business. She’d made a promise to Charles—a promise she fully intended to keep.
His instructions had been painfully clear. Somehow she had to persuade Judd Wilson to come home to New Zealand, before the father he hadn’t seen in more than two decades died.
Anna took a few more tentative steps through the pathway designated amongst the rows and rows of grapevines that striated the land. Her eyes were fixed on the male figure working ahead of her—the man completely oblivious to the bombshell she was about to drop on his world. She paused for a moment, sudden nerves weakening her resolve.
Judd had been only six years old when his parents’ divorce resulted in his and his mother’s leaving New Zealand—not to mention leaving Charles, and Judd’s baby sister, Nicole—behind for good. Did he even remember his father? Would he be pleased at the chance to reconcile, or would he be bitter over all the lost years?
Anxiety over Judd’s potential reaction was swiftly followed by a swirl of familiar anger and defensiveness on Charles’s behalf. If it hadn’t been for Cynthia Masters-Wilson’s deceptions, Charles would never have been separated from his son in the first place. Anna hadn’t yet met the woman who had torn apart Charles’s very reasons for existence, and she certainly wasn’t looking forward to it. No doubt it would prove to be a necessary evil at some stage, but for now her focus was on meeting Charles’s son and on gauging what his response to his father’s contact would be. Her intense physical reaction to him now promised to make that a little more complicated than Anna had anticipated.
She was here with a job to do, she reminded herself sternly, even as her eyes flicked back toward Judd’s sun-kissed torso one more time. She couldn’t afford to let herself get distracted. Perhaps right now was not the best time to meet him and try to broach the topic. This was a matter that would require good timing and not a small amount of finesse if she was to be successful, and she owed it to Charles to be successful. Lord only knew he’d done more than enough for her family over the years. The least she could do in return was bring some peace of mind to the man who had supported Anna and her late mother for most of Anna’s life. She couldn’t just barge in and potentially destroy her one opportunity to bring Judd Wilson home.
She took a turn in a different direction, determined now to create some distance between herself and the very man she’d flown almost five hours to see. There would be time enough during her stay here at The Masters’ Vineyard and Accommodation, she reasoned with herself. She had to tread this road very carefully if she was going to succeed.
Despite her best intentions, she didn’t get very far.
“Hi, there,” a voice as rich and sensual as a classic Shiraz called out from behind her. “It’s a beautiful evening, isn’t it?”
She couldn’t ignore him now—not when it was vital she make a good impression. Anna braced herself as she turned around to face her boss’s son.
Must be the new guest for the accommodation side of the business,
Judd thought to himself as he watched the woman come closer. His cousin Tamsyn sent an update to all staff at the vineyard at the beginning of each week as to which of the luxurious cottages on the property would be accommodating guests for the coming days. She certainly hadn’t mentioned that their newest visitor was so stunning.
Judd narrowed his eyes and tracked the movements of the woman in the blue dress as she approached. She walked with a gracefulness that belied the uneven ground she strolled along, and there was a sensual sway to her hips that sent a jolt of pure male appreciation rocketing through his body.
“Judd Wilson, welcome to The Masters’.” Judd shifted the ax to his left hand so he could reach out his right to shake. She smiled in response, a slow movement of her lips that made his groin tighten almost imperceptibly, but the effect when she placed her hand in his was unmistakable. Raw need, hot and greedy, unfurled with latent intent. Interesting. Very interesting. Perhaps he’d found a solution to the boredom that had been plaguing him for weeks. He smiled back and clasped her hand firmly.
“Hi, I’m Anna Garrick,” she said, her voice husky.
Her eyes searched his face keenly. As if she was looking for something. Perhaps some spark of recognition from him? No, the instant he thought of it, he eschewed the idea. If he’d ever met Anna Garrick before, he had no doubt he’d have remembered her.
From the top of her burnished dark chestnut-colored hair to her perfectly proportioned body and the tips of her painted toenails, she was his every fantasy. Even her voice—slightly soft, slightly rough—stroked his senses in a way he could never forget.
“Lovely to meet you, Anna. Did you arrive today?”
Her eyes flicked away, as if she was suddenly nervous—or hiding something. Judd felt his instincts go on alert.
“Yes, I did. It’s wonderful here. You’re so lucky to live in such a beautiful area. Have you…worked here long?” The question was innocent, but he’d caught the slight hesitation, as if she’d started out with the intention of asking something else.
“You could say that,” Judd replied, his smile tightening. “It’s something of a Masters family business—I grew up here.”
“But your name…”
Ah, yes, his name. The reminder of the father who cast him aside all those years ago—and the reason why, even as the very successful head of The Masters’ far-flung interests, some of his cousins still never quite treated him like he belonged.
“My mother is Cynthia Masters-Wilson,” he replied. No need to go into details. Not when there were so many more pleasurable things he’d like to discuss with this woman.
“And do all Masters chop wood for the winery fireplaces?” she teased.
“But of course,” he replied in kind. “Anything at all we can do to make your stay more…pleasurable.” That certainly sounded better than admitting that he’d needed the tension release after an incredibly frustrating day of work.
Some days were like that. Bashing at the keys on a laptop didn’t quite cut it when you just needed to get physical. And when his choices were either to chop wood or to resort to physical violence against his cousin Ethan, Judd had, reluctantly, chosen chopping wood.
Of course, Ethan really did need someone to knock his head straight. The man might run the winemaking side of the business with undeniable skill—their stock of award-winning wines was proof enough of that—but he was so stuck in his ways, he might as well be cemented in place. Ethan was devoted to maintaining the integrity and superiority of the wines that were synonymous with The Masters’ brand. With the current glut of certain wine varieties on the local market, Judd was equally adamant that Ethan needed to diversify. He’d been suggesting it from the day the first projections about the excesses had arisen some years ago. His cousin was like a bear with a sore head on the issue and even more stubborn with it.
Yes, he definitely needed the distraction Ms. Garrick provided.
“And I do hope you’ll let me know if there’s anything at all
I
can do for you,” he added.
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she replied. “But I can’t think of anything I need at the moment. My plan for now is just to enjoy a ramble through these lovely grounds before it gets too dark.”
“Then I’ll let you return to it. But I’ll be seeing you at dinner tonight?”
“Dinner?”
“Yes, we have a family dinner to welcome the new guests every week. There would have been an invitation in your welcome pack when you checked in. It begins with drinks in the formal sitting room of the main house at seven o’clock.” Judd stepped closer, taking hold of her hand again. “You will be there, won’t you?”
“Yes, I’d like that.”
“Excellent,” he murmured. “Until then.” He lifted her hand, brushing his lips against the back in a soft kiss. She seemed taken aback for a moment, but then she gave him another slow, delicious smile before walking away. Judd leaned on the ax handle and watched her go. Shadows were beginning to creep along the foothills. He looked up to the ruins of the gothic mansion that crowned the nearby peak.
The charred remains were all that was left of the original Masters home. Years after its destruction, it remained a symbol of the family’s past glory and their fight to rebuild a world that had been burned to the ground in a devastating sweep of ravenous bushfire. You had to admire a family that had had every marker of their wealth laid to waste, but who had fought back, tooth and nail, to be where they were today.
He was proud to be a part of that heritage. Despite his name, he was as much a Masters as any one of his many cousins and had just as much right to be here. Even so, he’d always felt as if he was an outsider. It had made him work twice as hard to prove his worth, and that work ethic had pushed The Masters’ forward and onto a global platform beyond the family’s expectations since he’d taken over as head of operations.
But perhaps he’d been too work-focused lately. It had been a while since he’d let loose. His duties here had consumed him for months now. Today, he’d finally admitted to himself that, no matter how hard he pushed himself, he was bored. Life, work, everything lacked the challenge he craved. A little light flirtation with the lovely Anna Garrick could be the perfect antithesis to the frustrations he was facing.
Judd methodically stacked the pile of logs he’d split and put away his tools before heading for his suite of rooms and having a much-needed shower. The prospect of another evening with his family suddenly held a great deal more appeal than it had after his latest altercation with Ethan’s inflexible attitude.
Perhaps he’d found the challenge he was seeking after all.
Judd’s hair was still slightly damp when he made his way into the formal sitting room, where whichever members of the Masters clan who were resident gathered for drinks with the guests before dinner. It was an old-fashioned habit, one that had its roots firmly linked to the ruins on the hill and a lifestyle long since gone, but one which still held a certain charm and which had no doubt been integral in keeping the family so firmly knit together.
Sunset brought a deeper chill to the air outside, which was offset by the crackling fire in the large stone fireplace. He cast a glance around the room, giving a grim-lipped nod briefly in Ethan’s direction before smiling at his mother, who sat, with her usual supreme elegance, on one of the chairs near the fireplace. No sign of the new guest yet.
He crossed to the sideboard and poured himself a half glass of The Masters’ pinot noir. As he did so, he saw the object of his intentions hover in the doorway. He moved toward her immediately, but his mother—ever vigilant—beat him there. As he approached, he could hear her questioning Anna.
“Excuse me for being so forward, but you do look familiar to me. Have you stayed here before?” Cynthia asked.
To his surprise, a swiftly masked look of shock flitted across Anna’s face.
“N-no,” she replied. “This is my first visit to South Australia, although I hope it won’t be my last.”
She smiled, but her eyes still held a shadow of the shock he’d seen earlier. Was she lying? His instincts honed to a sharper edge. Ms. Garrick was becoming very interesting indeed.
“Perhaps you have a double out there. They say we all do.” Cynthia glossed over any awkwardness with an arch of one expertly plucked brow. “Tell me, what can Judd get you to drink, my dear?”
“A glass of sauvignon blanc would be lovely, thank you. I hear you recently were awarded two golds for your sauvs.”
“Yes, we were. We’re very proud of Ethan and what he’s doing with the wines,” Cynthia said with a pointed look toward her son that told Judd his cousin had probably already apprised her of their earlier dispute. “Aren’t we, Judd?”
“He’s a master, that’s for sure,” Judd agreed.