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I give them final instructions and send them back to work. Beyond the windows, the vineyard lies in darkness while the pavilion glows over the courtyard, and music continues as if no one attacked the winery or destroyed records. Guests are waiting beneath the glowing chandeliers, so I straighten my jacket and return to the pavilion.

Sofia finds me before I reach the tables and touches my sleeve. “Mason Harrington wants to discuss the reserve allocation before dessert.”

“I’ll speak with him now,” I tell her, turning toward the dining area.

“After you eat.” She guides me toward my place with a hand at my elbow. “Tessa saved the first course, and I will know if you move it around the plate.”

I sit because arguing with her will draw more attention than obedience. The guests beside me discuss hotel openings and shipment schedules while servers pour the next vintage. I answer questions, explain production limits, and listen to Harrington propose an exclusive contract for six properties.

My responses are precise, although my mind is elsewhere.

Across the pavilion, Cassie sits beside Birdie at a table near the terrace. Candlelight reflects copper through her chestnut hair, including the strand I tucked behind her ear earlier. She listens while Reid speaks, but her eyes move toward the administration building twice before finding me.

She holds my look instead of turning away. I don’t trust her because she concealed what she found, entered my offices, and lied until the lies became too absurd to defend. She asks questions to uncover what others prefer to hide, and I have more to hide than any man she’s ever met, but none of that changes how I reacted when she stood against the wall with her mouth inches from mine.

I told myself I entered her space to expose a lie, which stopped being true when she tried to move and I closed my other arm around her. I wanted her contained between me and the wall, with those blue eyes on mine and her breath touching my mouth, because I wanted to taste her lips.

Wanting her should be enough reason to keep my distance. Her brother is missing, she believes I may be responsible, and she has no idea what I’ve done. If she knew the truth about my past, she would run, and I couldn’t blame her.

When Harrington asks whether I approve the proposed allocation, however, I have to make him repeat the number.

Cassie is still watching me from across the pavilion. She lifts her wineglass, takes a small drink, and turns back to Birdie only after I do the same.

I force my focus back to the contract, but my thoughts keep returning to her mouth. Tomorrow afternoon, we will review Connor’s notes and determine whether Cassie can be trusted. It will also bring her back to my office, and I want that far more than I should.

9

CASSIE

By the time the vineyard gates close behind us, Saturday night has deepened into a moonless stretch of highway, and Birdie has changed her mind about Andrei four times.

“He’s helping us,” she says from the passenger seat, tucking one foot beneath the rust-colored skirt she complained about until Reid told her she looked beautiful. “He’s also having us followed, which makes his help feel less comforting than help usually should.”

“Andrei said the security was for our protection.”

“And you believed him?” Birdie asks, turning until one gold leaf earring brushes her neck.

“I believed he meant it.” I tighten my hands around the steering wheel as the road enters a corridor of fir trees. “That isn’t the same as believing everything he says.”

I glance into the rearview mirror again. The dark sedan remains several car lengths behind us, its headlights following us from Ember Ridge.

“At least Murphy will be happy to see us,” Birdie says.

I smile as I picture his annoyed orange face. “Murphy will be happy to see dinner. He won’t care who serves it.”

Birdie settles back against her seat, but I glance at the sedan in the mirror again. Even miles from the vineyard, Andrei’s presence follows us.

My thoughts return to the dim accounting office and the man who blocked me against the wall with his arms on either side of my head. Andrei didn’t touch me until I put my hands on his chest, but my body remembers the warmth beneath his shirt and how close his mouth came to mine. Fear and anger were both there, along with enough sense to know I had cornered myself with a man I did not trust. None of those feelings prevented me from wanting him to close the last inch between us.

Birdie turns in her seat and studies my profile. “You’ve been silent for almost five minutes, which is unnatural and medically concerning.”

I turn my attention back to the road. “I’m trying to concentrate on driving.”

“You usually drive while talking, asking questions, criticizing other drivers, and identifying every house that needs its porch repaired.” She adjusts the seat belt across her chest and angles herself toward me. “What are you thinking about?”

I keep my eyes on the narrow beam of road ahead. “I’m thinking about Connor’s notes.”

Birdie leans closer to inspect my face. “That answer would work better if you weren’t blushing.”