“Something wrong?”
Travis’s voice jolted Julie out of her thoughts. She slapped one hand to her chest and whirled around to find him standing beside the cook island, watching her. Guilt slipped through her system, but she fought it back down. She was going to tell him so there was no reason for the guilt. “You scared me.”
He smiled and snitched one of the tiny lemon tarts she’d taken from the oven only a few minutes ago. Since discovering they were Travis’s favorites, she made them often. “Those are still hot.”
“I like things hot.”
She flushed. Just like that. So easy, he didn’t even have to try and she felt a flash of heat inside that would have put her oven to shame. How could she ever spend the rest of her life without him? How could she raise their child without Travis’s love in her life?
He blew onto the lemon surface, then took a bite, savoring the tartness. “Delicious. As always.”
“Thank you.”
“So what were you thinking when I came in?” he asked.
Oh, she couldn’t go there. Couldn’t even let the thoughts into her mind, because she didn’t doubt that somehow, he would know. So instead, she thought about how she loved him. About how she wanted to stay with him. Have him love her back. Those thoughts, he would be oblivious to. “Nothing special.”
“You’re not a very good liar.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it?” She forced a smile and swept a dish towel across her left shoulder. Then deftly, she moved the rest of the lemon tarts from the baking tray to a wire rack where they could cool.
“Yeah,” Travis admitted. “I guess it is.”
Looking at her now, Travis couldn’t think of one reason to doubt her. Her hair was pulled back in a ponytail, she wore a dark green King Winery T-shirt and faded blue jeans. Her feet were bare and her toe-nails were painted a soft peach.
And her eyes met his with a simple honesty that he couldn’t force himself to deny.
He kept trying to maintain an emotional distance between them, but that was getting more difficult every day. He was drawn to her. At night, he lost himself in the feel of her, the scent of her, the eagerness she expressed when he touched her.
During the day, he found his mind wandering during meetings. He couldn’t walk the vines without thinking of her, wondering what she was doing. And the nights when she stood beside him in the tasting room, he was proud to have her there with him. She was warm and friendly to their guests, making them all feel special, and as word of her talents in the kitchen spread, their tourist traffic had more than doubled. King Winery was making its mark on the state and even Thomas Henry had noticed.
Travis hadn’t had to wheedle his way into a distribution deal after all. Henry had come to him with a more than fair offer and there hadn’t been any more snide comments about Julie, either.
He took another bite of the lemon tart and savored the delicious mix of sweet and sour that dissolved on his tongue in a burst of flavor.
Sweet and sour. Pretty much described what this temporary marriage of theirs was like. The sweet—those moments when they were together, focused only on each other. The nights in her arms and the laughter in the mornings. The touch of her hand and the sound of her sigh when he joined his body to hers. The knowledge that she was there, in his house when he came in from the vines. It was all so much more than he’d expected to find in a marriage that had been meant to be nothing more than a business deal.
But then there was the sour and that nagged at him. There was the mess with her ex. The way she’d gone behind his back to meet him—even if her reasons had made sense to him. There was the tight feeling in his chest whenever she was out of his sight for too long and the knowledge that in less than a year now, she would be out of his life.
He could hardly imagine her not being a part of his everyday world. Who would he talk to? Who would be there to argue with him over the best way to run a tasting? None of his employees dared to oppose him. But Julie had never had a problem with it. She stood up to him. Stood up for herself. Which is why he could look back at her meeting with Jean Claude and understand the reasoning behind it. He might not have liked it, but knowing her as he did, he shouldn’t have expected anything else.
And on that thought, he said, “I talked to Adam a minute ago. Actually, it was more like me listening, older brother talking.”
“About?”
“Pierre, strangely enough.”
He saw her flinch just before her gaze dropped to the surface of the cook island.
“What did Adam have to say?”
Travis leaned both hands on the edge of the countertop and felt that straight edge bite into his flesh. He kept his gaze locked on her as he said, “He set a plan into motion. Something that with any luck, will get rid of Jean Claude for good.”
She nodded, blew out a breath and finally lifted her gaze to his. “When’s this plan supposed to take place?”
“Soon.”
“That’s good, then.”
“Yeah.” She didn’t look happy, though, and whether he wanted it to or not, a doubt filled whisper scuttled through his mind. Is she happy to have the Jean Claude situation exposed and ended? Or is she worried that her compliance with him will be uncovered? Even as that thought whipped through his mind, Travis told himself it just wasn’t possible. He didn’t want it to be possible.
Irritated, he frowned, straightened up and backed away. She smelled too good, looked too appealing for his own comfort level. “I just wanted to tell you. Keep you up-to-date on what’s happening.”
“I appreciate it,” she said, but she didn’t look the slightest bit happy. Instead she looked worried and a little green around the gills.
“Are you feeling all right?” Travis stopped at the doorway and looked at her closely, noticing for the first time that her skin was paler than usual. That her usually bright eyes looked a little glassy.
“Fine. Just a bit queasy.” She gave him a smile that was meant to placate. “Probably tasted too much while I was cooking.”
Her answer came fast and easy, but Travis went still and cold. As he’d noted earlier, she was a bad liar.
Ten
“R emember our wedding night?”
“Of course I do.” Vividly. Travis stared at her, waiting. She looked nervous—the tips of her fingers plucking at the thigh seams on her jeans. She bit down on her bottom lip, shifted her gaze from his, to the wall nearby and then back again. He couldn’t recall a single moment in their time together when she’d seemed nervous before. Worried, yes. Scared, pissed off and stubborn, yes. But over the last few weeks, he’d never seen her look shaken.