Summer Wine: Taste of Seduction, Book 1 (2 page)

And
pleasure
was the key word here. Sharp tingles of delight skittered up her back and down again, touching the length of her spine, creating a pool of ecstasy so sublime it reached all the way down to her toes. Blood raced through her veins, sizzling from the heat of Angus’s mouth.

Angus—whose very presence at her home every morning made sleep impossible. How could she hope to get a decent night’s rest when at least every second minute alone in the dark was spent anticipating his early-morning arrivals? Then there was the late-afternoon torture—or delight, depending how she looked at it—when she got home to find him working shirtless in her garden, muscles rippling as he dug or planted. More than once, she’d watched a bead of sweat slip down his spine or chest and been forced to find an icy drink to cool herself down.

It took a second to find her bearings, to realize that one of the two men she’d fantasized about endlessly now kissed her. And then she lost herself to the moment. She relaxed against his massive chest, opened her lips to his probing tongue and kissed him back, savoring the hints of wine on his breath.

He glided his tongue over hers with a demanding, velvety heat, and lust exploded in Lily’s belly.

Angus wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her close, molding her body to his. Instinctively, she pushed up on her toes, giving herself more height. God, he was enormous. The hours spent reshaping gardens had gifted him with a chest and stomach as hard as a brick wall. And he smelt so good. Like a man should smell. Soapy, clean and earthy.

She pressed her breasts against all that muscle, loving how her nipples tightened and tingled at the contact. In return, Angus twisted his hips, pressing his cock against Lily’s stomach and rocking.

Were those violins playing? Stars swimming before her eyes? Or was the unexpected taste of Angus Lowe enough to make her as high as a kite?

Lily curled her hand around his neck and tucked her fingers into his thick brown hair, pulling him a little closer so she could gorge on the Cabernet that flavored his mouth. The no-nonsense, audacious character of the wine rolled over her taste buds—aromatic and complex, just like the landscaper. Rich, fruity notes of cherries and currants melded together with the herby taste of olives and tangoed with spicy notes of ginger and pepper.

Long, greedy sips told Lily she’d been mistaken. The delectable taste wasn’t wine at all. It was the unique, individual tang of a unique, individual man.

Angus Lowe may typify a salt-of-the-earth kind of a guy. He may look like a magnificent eucalyptus—solid, strong and beautiful, but he tasted better than the finest bottle of red. Years spent maturing in a cask could not improve on his flavor.

Yet even as his kiss muddled her senses, worry clung to the edges of her mind.

Yes, kissing Angus might be the closest to heaven Lily ever got, but something wasn’t right. Something told her to stop.

Not instinct. Uh, no, instinct told her to drag the guy home, lock the bedroom door and spend the rest of the weekend doing very naughty things to him.

No, that something was a vague feeling of…betrayal.

Ah. Of course.

Loath to break the kiss yet left with little alternative, Lily dropped her heels to the ground, a useless attempt to put some distance between them.

Angus didn’t seem to mind. He just leaned in and continued kissing her. Lily didn’t mind either. Not with the glorious strains of those violins playing every time his tongue slid over hers.

Wait.

Blake…

With an anguished sigh, she reluctantly clasped his cheeks in her hands, stilled his face and pulled her mouth from his.

Christ, Angus was in trouble. Trouble starting with a capital L. He probably shouldn’t have kissed Lily, but fuck. Her mouth had been inches from his, her blue eyes dark with concern, and her damn perfume had played hell with his common sense.

So kiss her he had. And she’d kissed him back. Which explained his problem. A kiss would never be enough. Hell, a day making love to her wouldn’t do. Maybe a solid week of sex could sort out his desire.

Maybe.

Probably not.

He forced his eyes open. Forced himself to look at the woman who had his balls tied in knots. Not that looking was a hardship. Controlling himself in case he hauled her back into his arms was.

“Angus… Uh, we shouldn’t…” Her words were slurred, her breath uneven. Her chest heaved, dragging those pert little nipples of hers against his not-so-steady chest. She licked her kiss-swollen lips and tried again. “I need to tell you something.”

With his voice curiously absent, Angus raised a brow in question.

“I-I can’t kiss you.”

“I reckon you kissed me just fine, Lily.” Jesus, maybe it was better when he couldn’t talk. His voice sounded like he’d swallowed crushed glass.

“No, you don’t understand.”

“So explain it to me.” Fast. Because if she didn’t, he was going to kiss her again. He eyed her mouth, wondering if he should even give her the opportunity to explain. It would be easier for both of them if he just clamped his lips to hers and forgot what they were talking about. Seemed pretty darn obvious they communicated better without words.

She drew in a haggard breath. “Much as I want to, and God help me, I want to
so
bad, I shouldn’t kiss you, Angus. See, I-I’m in love with another man.”

Son of a bitch.

Angus dropped his hands to his sides before he even realized he’d released her. He took a quick step back, and his erection died a sudden death.

Of all the explanations he’d expected,
in love with another man
was not one of them. Fury flared in his gut, along with a healthy dose of jealousy and disbelief. A woman in love with another man didn’t kiss the way Lily had just kissed him. Didn’t happily accept his tongue in her mouth and melt into his body as though trying to mold herself to him. She didn’t struggle to breathe or drag hard nipples against his chest either.

Hell, no. A woman in love with another man stopped a kiss before it even started.

But then who was Angus to decide how a woman in love behaved? In fact, who was he to have even taken the liberty of kissing Lily in the first place? He was nothing more than a laborer working on her garden. A kid from the other side of town—the side that didn’t recommend fraternizing with the rich and prosperous.

He never should have crossed the line. Never have given in to his impulses. Didn’t matter how damn sexy she’d looked sipping her fucking wine.

Angus took a slow breath and another step back. A calm, controlled one, putting distance between himself and temptation. He dropped a neutral mask over his face and stared at Lily through blank eyes. “My mistake.” He lifted his hands in the air in…apology? Placation? Disappointment? Anger… “I crossed a line I had no business crossing. That won’t happen again.”

Jesus, of course it wouldn’t happen again. What kind of idiot kissed a woman he knew was in love with another man? Not him, that’s for sure. But it did beg the question, what kind of woman kissed a man when she was in love with someone else?

“Angus, please.” She wrung her hands in anguish. “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like I’m dirt. Like I did something terrible.”

Hah, if anyone was dirt, it was him. The description suited him too, seeing as he spent most of every day covered in the stuff. She was a duchess. He was dirt.

Angus shrugged. “Like I said, I crossed a line. I’m sorry.”

Lily narrowed her eyes. “Crossed what line?”

“You employed me to do a job, end of story.”

“No, that’s not the end of the story. You and I have become friends. We have coffee together every morning. Talk. Plus, there’s a…something between us. A spark, an attraction. I thought maybe it was just me, but after that kiss…” Her gaze turned dreamy, hot. “After that kiss, I know it’s not one-sided. So yes, you can be angry at me for stopping it, but please, don’t think this is just a matter of you doing a job and that’s that.”

Baffled, Angus stared at her. The woman was a barrel of contradictions. Kissing him like she wanted to eat him for breakfast, then drawing away because she loved another man.

As for the whole “friends” thing? Yeah, that concept just seemed impossible between a man like him and a woman of Lily’s social standing.

He’d never had friends who lived in multimillion-dollar homes. Never had friends who’d grown up in the lap of luxury with whatever they needed or wanted at their fingertips. People of that…affluence? Status? Whatever. People with that kind of money just didn’t befriend manual laborers.

“Friends, employer-employee, whatever. I did something out of line, something you didn’t want. I shouldn’t have.”

Lily regarded him for a long moment, her chest still heaving unevenly, a distraction Angus did not need at this point in time. “What makes you think I didn’t want it?”

Angus blinked. Really? Okay, now she was just fucking with his head. “You’re in love with someone else. You pulled away. It’s a no-brainer.”

Lily gave him a bewildered smile. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? Yet to be perfectly honest, I’ve fantasized about kissing you since the day we met.” Color deepened the pink in her cheeks. “I’ve fantasized about a lot more than just kissing you, actually.”

Angus took another step back. Jesus, the woman wasn’t just messing with his head. She was fucking with his dick too. Irritation mixed with lust, and the erection that had died a sudden death stirred once again. She’d fantasized about him? While in love with another man? What the fuck was that all about? “Forgive me for saying, but your boyfriend can’t be too happy about that.”

“Boyfriend?”

Angus squeezed his eyes shut. Perhaps he’d gotten Lily all wrong. Perhaps she wasn’t the ultimate lady. Maybe she was just fucking loopy. “The man you’re in love with.” Remember?

“Oh.” She nodded. “Uh. Yeah. No.”

Loopy, for sure. Sexy as hell, but still crazy.

“He’s not my boyfriend.”

Angus stared at her. “Husband?” Fuck, she was married? How could he not know that?

“God, no. Don’t you think I’d have told you if I was married?”

“I have no idea what you’d tell me.” Understanding women was hard enough. Understanding this woman? Impossible.

“I’m in love with him. That’s all. Nothing’s going on between us. I thought it was only fair to tell you, considering this attraction between us.”

“Nice. In love with him but fantasizing about me. Okay, I get it.” Yeah, or not. Hell, he didn’t get any part of it.

Lily’s hands fluttered in the air, as though she were uncertain what to do with them. Touch him maybe?

They fell to her sides. “Look, why don’t we discuss this in the car? Blake should be at his place by now. And it may be easier to talk in private while driving there than with people walking all around us.”

As though punctuating her words, a man headed down a row of vines, a dog barking happily behind him. Laughter echoed from a distance away—probably from the wine-tasting room.

Funny how he’d been oblivious to the presence of anyone else until Lily had reminded him where they were.

Angus nodded, not at all convinced he had what it took to sit beside her in the tiny space her car offered and not kiss her again. Even if she was in love with another man.

He dropped back, letting her walk ahead. Their footsteps crunched over the gravel car park and conversation did not resume until the roadster was in gear, the air con was back on and Lily had driven them out of the front gates of the estate.

“You must think I’m crazy.” Her gaze was steady on the road. His focused on the endless kilometers of vineyards rolling past them. The sun shimmered in the sky, beating down relentlessly on the car.

“Doesn’t matter what I think.”

She laughed softly. “That’s a yes. You do think I’m crazy.”

“Just confused. Never been kissed that way by someone professing to be in love with another guy.”

“I’m not a terrible person,” Lily said quietly.

“Don’t think you are.”

She sighed. “I like you, Angus. Very much. More than I ever thought I’d like a man who wasn’t Blake.”

His stomach roiled. “Blake Seymour, owner of Rolling Hills Winery and Hotel? That Blake?”

“Yes. That Blake.”

Fucking great. Guess who wouldn’t be accepting this landscaping job? “So you’re taking me to meet the man you love.” With her lips swollen and her cheeks flushed. “Gee, I wonder what he’s gonna think we just did.” He wondered no such thing. One look at Lily would tell Seymour exactly what she’d just done.

“Maybe he’ll think I just kissed a man I’ve wanted to kiss for weeks.”

“And he’ll be okay with that?”

“I have no idea. But with a little luck he’ll finally notice that
someone
wants to kiss me.”

Her words slashed at his stomach. At least they explained why she’d responded to his kiss. To get Blake’s attention.

Angus snorted, but the sound held no amusement. “Anyone with a penis would want to kiss you.”