My conversation with Becky placated Ryan enough that he’d given me a temporary reprieve of sorts to focus on work, but I suspected that was about to end.

First, because I’d denied his dinner requests four times now, claiming meetings as a repetitive excuse.

And second, because I’d just left the state without telling him.

I pressed my palm against my skirt as I dragged my suitcase along behind me and stifled a yawn. These last few weeks were working hell. Not just managing Ryan’s persistent calls and random visits, but also working long days, followed by longer nights, and spending weekends at the office. Baker Brown had assigned a dozen lawyers to Will’s case, marking it with high urgency given the timeline, and threw ample funding behind it.

I hadn’t seen Will since the day he finalized the agreement with my firm three and a half weeks ago. We’d talked a few times over the phone since, but always professionally and only about the project. It left me feeling a bit empty and confused and a tad bit disappointed. Which wasn’t fair. I wanted him to hire me for my work, not for my body, yet I missed his easy candor and flirting—a conundrum that left me walking at a clipped pace toward the exit.

I didn’t want to be excited at the prospect of seeing him outside those doors, but the jumping jacks going on in my belly told me the truth. I’d missed him. Ridiculous. Idiotic. Annoying.

When I spotted a man in a suit holding a placard with my name, the gymnastics in my stomach halted, leaving behind a queasy feeling.

This is what I wanted. To be treated like a professional. Pull it together, hormones.

“Miss Dawson?” the man asked, his drawl reminding me a little of Will.

“That’d be me.”

“A pleasure, ma’am.” He tipped his hat, revealing a touch of his salt-and-pepper hair at the sides, and opened the back door of his black town car. “I’ll take your bag.”

“Thank you, Mister . . . ?”

Another tip of that hat. “You can call me Rudy, ma’am.”

I grinned. “Thank you, Rudy.”

“Careful, he’s a bit of a flirt,” came a voice from inside the car. My heart kicked up a notch as I bent to find Will sitting in the back seat, dressed in khakis and a blue polo shirt. “Mornin’, darlin’.”

“Hi,” I managed. He looked tanner, probably from the North Carolina sun, and his hair seemed a bit brighter. But his grin was the same—all male confidence—as I slid into the car beside him. “You didn’t need to pick me up.”

He shrugged. “I figured we could get a head start on our meeting.”

“Oh, that makes sense.” All business as usual. Except the disappointment radiating through me wasn’t professional at all. Of course he wanted to discuss the acquisition. That’s why we were working together. I’d let my ego grow to unhealthy levels, because I could swear he wanted to sleep with me in the beginning, which sounded ridiculous now.

He’d been nothing but the perfect client for weeks, and even before that, he’d really only been politely flirtatious. The whole thing was wishful thinking on my part because of my innate attraction to him. I assumed our feelings were mutual, but given the foot of distance between us now, no way did he find me nearly as appealing as I found him. And wasn’t that a kick in the gut?

Ignoring the ache in my chest, I focused on him and tried to figure out what he was talking about.

“Which is why I think we should leave Friday night instead, just to acclimate and be prepared. Thoughts?”

I squinted at him. “Uh, sure.” Leave Friday night for what?

“Excellent. I’ll ask Miranda to book it, and she’ll send the itinerary to you.”

“Great.” I can’t wait to see it and find out where I’m going.

Wow, I needed to pull it together, and fast. Both Janet and Jeff had mentioned how impressed they were with my work on this project, and it seemed five minutes in Will’s presence was long enough to derail several weeks of hard work.

Awesome. Nothing like allowing a silly crush to ruin a career.

And I shouldn’t even be attracted to him in the first place. So what if he had a perfect square jaw covered in attractive stubble, alluring dark irises dusted in long blond lashes, and a head of thick hair. Looks didn’t mean everything. Neither did all that muscle he was packing beneath that fitted shirt, nor did the strong thighs and impressive package in those khaki pants. My gaze flew upward when I realized where it’d gone, and found Will grinning.

“You all right, Miss Dawson?”

I had to clear my throat twice to speak. It did nothing to hide the heat overwhelming my face. “I, uh, it was a long flight.” Lamest. Excuse. Ever. And he knew it too.

“Was it, now?” The amusement in his voice only made me hotter. “If you thought ninety minutes was bad, wait until Friday.”

My jaw loosened. “What?”

He laughed. “Darlin’, you haven’t heard a word I’ve said since gettin’ in this car, have you?” He shook his head. “Well, to teach you a lesson, I’m going to make it a surprise. But don’t worry; I’ll make sure Janet is aware so you don’t get in trouble. You do have your passport, right?”

“Wait, no, I mean, yes. I mean . . .” Oh my dear God, I’d never been so tongue-tied in my life. I pulled the passport from my purse to wave at him because that was easier than speaking. “But I want to know where we’re going.”

“Then you should have paid attention.” His taunt, accompanied by those dimples, helped ground me a bit.

“I can refuse to get on the plane.”

“You most certainly could, but how would you explain that to Baker Brown?”

“I . . .” Well, crap. He had me there. I opted for a new route. “A gentleman would tell me where we’re going.”

“And a lady wouldn’t be caught checking out her client in the back seat of a town car, yet here we are, Miss Dawson.”

“I wasn’t . . .” Okay, yeah, no way around that. Any lie I could even consider would just get shot down. So I shrugged. “Fine. At least tell me what to pack.”

“No need. We’ll shop when we get there.”

“Excuse me?”

“You would understand, had you been listening.”

I shook my head. “My suits will have to do, then, and no way did I miss that much of the conversation.”

His chuckle was a velvet caress over my skin. “Perhaps not, but needling you is becoming one of my favorite pastimes. In addition to you checking me out, of course.”

I rolled my eyes. “Well, I hope you enjoyed it, Mister Mershano, because it won’t be happening again.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that, Miss Dawson. I give it an hour.”

“Cocky.” I shifted my focus to the rolling landscapes outside the window. Apparently, we’d left the city.

“Confident,” he corrected.

“Uh-huh.” Taller mountains appeared in the distance as we continued our drive, stealing all my attention. Born and raised in the Midwest with a minimal budget left my travel experience rather lacking. Ryan took me on a few trips while we dated, but those always involved a beach and me in a bikini.

I knew from my research that Will’s headquarters was located north of Charlotte, closer to the Virginia border, but he owned vineyards throughout the southern states. “Why North Carolina?” I wondered out loud.

“What do you mean?” His voice warmed me in a way few voices could.

“What made you choose North Carolina for Mershano Vineyards?” I finally looked at him, and found his brow creased. “You own several other properties in South Carolina, Georgia, Alabama, and Louisiana, right?”

“I suppose that detail wouldn’t be in the corporate files I sent over.” He ran a hand through his hair. “Well, in short, my family is from here.”

I frowned. “I thought the Mershano ‘empire’ was headquartered in New Orleans?” I used finger quotes around “empire” since it was a term coined by the media.

“Sure, but that’s Evan’s family dynasty, not mine. A lot of people like to say we’re brothers since I essentially grew up with him, but we’re cousins. I was born here, where I lived with my parents until the car crash.” His gaze grew distant at the mention of what had to be a painful memory, and I reached for his hand on instinct.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, feeling like an idiot. Of course I knew that about his parents. Not necessarily that they were from here, but that they’d died. Sarah had mentioned it once when she explained his familial relation to Evan. Most would assume them to be brothers due to their similar eyes and statures.

He twisted his hand, palm up, and wrapped his fingers around mine to give a gentle squeeze. “It was a long time ago,” he murmured with a small smile as his thumb drew circles against my wrist. “But I always wanted to come back, and I did.”

I opened my mouth to reply, when my phone buzzed a familiar ringtone. Ryan. Dropping Will’s hand, I fiddled through my purse to silence the tone and then sent him a quick message.

With my client.

In North Carolina? he returned not fifteen seconds later.

I shivered. His text confirmed all my suspicions about him keeping tabs on me. The thought of it had always bothered me, but the reality was so much worse. Because now I knew he had the connections to monitor my travel.

This was why I couldn’t move. Ryan would know. Just like he knew about my business trip, one that was planned two days ago. Which also meant he knew I didn’t have a return ticket booked yet because we didn’t know how long this next round of reviews would take.

“Are you all right?” Will asked. He couldn’t see the screen but could surely see my expression.

I forced a smile. “Yeah, fine. Just—” The phone dinged again.

How is the weather in Charlotte? was his follow-up message.

It’s hot. I’m with my client. Which he already knew. Not that he would care.

Don’t forget our engagement photos this weekend.

I blinked at the message. He never mentioned anything about photos but did say something about an announcement.

I won’t be home this weekend. I hit send before I could delete the words and held my breath. I couldn’t believe I’d just done that. A version of no in a text. I can’t talk, I quickly added before he could call or respond, and silenced my phone before shoving it back into my bag with more force than necessary.

Oh God . . . He was going to lose it. Would he find me in Charlotte? My hotel wasn’t part of the itinerary, but I doubted he’d let a thing like that hold him back.

Fuck. My shoulders seemed to lock in place as the scenery passed by in a blur. What would he do the next time I saw him? Hit me? Choke me again?

And when he realized I had no intention of going through with his wedding, then what? Would he force me down the aisle?

I pinched the bridge of my nose and blew the air from my lungs, then jumped when a warm hand brushed up my arm to my tense shoulder.

“Rachel,” Will murmured. “You know you can talk to me, right?”

“Oh, it’s nothing.” My voice shook with the lie, so I cleared my throat. “Everything’s fine.” Just my insane stalker ex knowing my every move. “How much longer is the drive?” Was Ryan tracking my phone? I had no doubt he already knew the name of my client, which made the location easy to find as well, but that didn’t make it any less creepy.

“Another twenty minutes or so. You sure you don’t want to talk about it?”

“Yep.” That wasn’t a lie in the slightest. I flipped to the first topic change that sprung to mind, which, of course, was work related. “So I’ve been wondering about why you want to expand internationally. Why Nice?”

His gaze searched my features for too long, then he sighed and dropped the hand that was still on my shoulder, leaving me feeling cold. “This vineyard grows a unique variety of grapes only found in that region.”

“Which means it’ll be different from your existing brand, right?”

“Very.”

I tried to think like a businessman, to understand his vision. “Okay, so you’re acquiring a new variety to add to your collection, right?”

“Yes, I’m expanding my collateral.” He turned toward me as he continued. “As you’ve seen, the French vineyard has required the family name remain on their product. As they’ve already established a clientele, I have no problem adhering to that. Mershano Vineyards will essentially operate as a silent owner, which gives me more bargaining power with retail chains and restaurants. Instead of offering only Mershano brands, I’ll be able to offer international brands with reputable backgrounds.”

He settled into his seat and cast me an unreadable expression. “I also like the challenge of learning something new, and the Mediterranean region offers a different variety of grapes.”

I nodded. “Makes sense. I’ll admit that I was surprised you agreed to not tying your name to the product.”

“It’ll be there on the label in small print, but the original family name will be what consumers notice.”

“It’s smart. But the property in Greece you want to own.” I phrased it not as a question but as a statement. He hadn’t started negotiations with that one yet but planned to at a later date.

“Right, because it’s run-down and not being cared for properly. My advisors are calling it a gamble because it’s a major renovation that may prosper, or fail. But as I said, I like a good challenge.” His gaze darkened on that last bit and dropped briefly to my lips before trailing back up to my eyes. “The harder the fight, the sweeter the reward.”

I swallowed. I wasn’t so sure we were talking about wine anymore. The car pulled off the highway, which momentarily distracted me and saved me from having to answer. But then we continued down a road that appeared to lead to nowhere.

“Is your office out here?” Because it seemed off the beaten path.

“My office, yes, but I think you mean my headquarters, which is not.”

I looked at him. “I thought we were meeting the team.”

“We are, but at my home. It’s an easier location for my employees who work remotely. Our main office is in a building just north of Charlotte, but I only stop in there once a week at most. It’s a location for our sales and marketing team to meet with prospective clients, but not much else. You’ll find that the majority of us prefer to work near the product.”

“So where am I staying this week?” I noticed my itinerary didn’t include the hotel, but I assumed it was just missing from my documents.

“I have plenty of open rooms at my estate, if you’re comfortable staying with me. Otherwise, there’s a motel about five minutes from the primary vineyard.”

“Is it typical for you to host an employee at your home?”

He chuckled. “Actually, yes. Several live on my property.”

The way he said it had me frowning. “How big is this house?”

“Oh, darlin’, let’s talk after you meet the team.”