"No, thank you, I'm fine." Though I'd have loved to sit and watch the flames, I didn't want to put her out at this time of night. "Don't let me keep you from your bed."
Eileen laughed. "During harvest, we keep odd hours. I've got food to prepare for three dozen hungry workers before I can hitthe hay." She motioned toward the back of the chair I sat on. "There's a blanket if you get cold. If you need anything else, come find me in the kitchen. Just follow the smell of frying onions."
As she turned and left, closing the door behind her, I wondered whether I should have offered to help in the kitchen. Despite my mother thinking it beneath me, I’d learned to cook at an early age. One of my greatest passions was creating new dishes. I doubted Eileen would want a stranger underfoot though.
I kicked off my shoes and curled my legs up under me, then reached for the blanket and wrapped it around my shoulders. Resting my head against the back of the chair, I soaked up the stillness. When was the last time I’d experienced this sort of tranquility? I honestly couldn't remember.
Exhaustion seeped into my bones. I pulled the soft wool blanket tighter and closed my eyes, telling myself I just needed a minute.
When I opened them again, I realized I'd drifted off. I must have slept for at least a couple of hours, judging by how the light had changed. Early morning sunshine poured in through the windows, brightening the room around me.
Sitting up, I rubbed the back of my neck. I never slept well anywhere but in my own bed. A few minutes passed before I started to feel human again. After a quick stretch, I got up and walked to the window. Though it was bright outside, a thick fog had settled on the valley below. That explained where the name Mist Hollow came from. It suited the eerily beautiful landscape. I’d never seen anything like it.
I was still admiring the view when the door opened, and Nate entered. For once, he didn't look like the runway-ready owner of a successful property development empire. Disheveled was the first word that sprang to mind. His dirty blond hair, longer thanI’d seen it before, was messy. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows, his shirt front rumpled and stained. A light coating of dust covered his blue jeans, and his feet were bare. There was something appealing about that. Who knew feet could be a turn-on?
"Juliet." His bewilderment at my presence was obvious. "Eileen told me you were here."
"Uh, yes." Suddenly less sure of myself, I clasped my hands in front of me. "I arrived a few hours ago. I hope you don't mind."
"Not at all." He crossed the room to join me by the window. Without my heels on, I found myself staring straight at his chest. I was taller than the average woman at five foot eleven but he had a good few inches on me. He was also considerably broader, with a muscular frame. "You're a long way from Beverly Hills."
"I was in San Francisco for a fundraiser at the children's hospital," I explained.
Nate tilted his head to the side. "And you thought you'd pop out to Alexander Valley while you were in the area?"
Boy, his English accent did funny things to my insides!
"Not exactly. I wanted to speak to you."
"About what?" His gorgeous blue eyes narrowed as he studied me carefully.
His curiosity was natural. Nate and I didn't really know each other. Our paths crossed at social events, where we made small talk, but that was the extent of our relationship. He was one of the few influential men my mother didn't encourage me to get close to. For her, Nate was the wrong type of billionaire. His father had pulled himself out of the gutter in some northern English town, but my mother couldn't see how admirable that was. An inveterate snob, she longed to see me married to someone with bluer blood in his veins.
"I have a favor to ask of you." Pulling my shoulders back, I steeled myself to get straight to the point. "I need you to marry me."
A flicker of surprise crossed Nate's face, but he smoothed it over. I was relieved he didn't laugh at my request, but the silence that fell as he studied me quickly became uncomfortable. Nate ran his fingers through his hair while I fidgeted with the diamond bracelet on my wrist.
"Say something," I urged as the awkwardness got to be too much for me. "Please."
"I need food," he said, catching me off guard. "Come on."
His tone was curt as he turned and strode from the room. I followed him along the corridor, jogging to keep up with his pace. Though I had no idea what he was thinking, I consoled myself with one realization. At least he hadn’t said no.
Chapter Two
Nate
The last thing I expected when I came in after a busy night of working among the vines was to learn that one of the country's most sought-after heiresses was waiting for me. As I removed my dirty boots and sweaty socks in the mudroom, my Aunt Eileen quizzed me about Juliet's reasons for arriving unannounced, but I had no explanation to offer.
I knew Juliet Caldwell the way most people did, as the face of her family's cosmetics empire. She was a fixture at every significant event on the California social calendar. I'd spoken to her perhaps a half-dozen times over the years, enough to form the impression there was considerably more going on behind those gray-green eyes than she was ever permitted to show.
While Juliet's presence in my home threw me off balance, her marriage proposal floored me completely. I barely knew the woman. She'd never shown much interest in me at social events we both attended. It was clear from her saying sheneededme to marry her that she didn't have some burning desire to be my wife.
The only thing I knew for sure was that she wasn't after my money, being in line to inherit millions of dollars herself.
As I led her through the house, I detected a stiffening of her posture. She was tense, nervous even. I tried to figure out what had compelled her to seek me out. Though she gave Eileen the impression she came here on a whim, asking me to marry her hadn't seemed impulsive. Before Juliet told me what she wanted, she took a pause to summon her inner strength. Her proposal had been sincere. Hopefully during breakfast, she would relax enough to confide in me the reason for it.
We walked through the kitchen where Eileen and some of the crew were dishing up food. When we got to the mudroom, I realized Juliet wasn't wearing shoes.
