Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three. Judy Duarte

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Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three - Judy  Duarte


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as if she thought he was someone special. But he quickly scoffed it off.

      She’d only noticed his eye color because of the way the morning sun poured through the window. And she’d merely made a comment, which for some goofy reason, he continued to ponder.

      Did his eyes really have gold flecks? If he had a mirror handy, he’d take a peek, just to see what she saw.

      “The color is beautiful,” she said, her voice going kind of soft.

      “Just in the sunlight.” He cast off her compliment and tried to shift the focus away from himself. “You’re the one with a stunning pair of peepers.”

      She cocked her head slightly, as though trying to decipher his words. “Me?”

      “What’s the matter? Surely, you’ve had tons of compliments over the years.”

      “Mostly from my mom,” she said, cheeks starting to flush. “Although maybe some lady in a grocery store said something once or twice.”

      Well, now. See? That’s what happened when a person tried to downplay their looks so no one would notice them. Sometimes it worked.

      “You do have pretty eyes,” he told her. “Whether you believe it or not. They’re the color of new leaves.”

      Great. Now he was talking like a friggin’ poet.

      She thanked him, yet still appeared skeptical.

      “By the way,” he added, reneging on his earlier decision to keep his opinion to himself. “You ought to wear green or blue. To bring out the color of your eyes, you know.”

      She glanced down at a pair of brown, rubber-soled loafers—shoes that looked a lot like the ones his great-aunt Clara wore. Then she looked up at him with a doe-eyed gaze that reached deep into his chest.

      Whoa. That was a little too close for comfort.

      He took his mug, then turned and strode toward the sofa—but only because it was on the far side of the room. Away from her, away from the weird stuff he felt whenever she looked at him that way.

      Lissa Cartwright was not the kind of woman he pursued. And she was certainly off-limits until his business with the vineyard was over.

      From across the room, and from a much safer distance, he turned, took a sip of coffee then asked, “How about a tour of the vineyard?”

      “Sure. After we go over the guest list for the dinner party tomorrow night. I’d like you to know who’ll be there ahead of time.” Lissa reached into the top desk drawer, withdrew a sheet of paper and set it upon the oak desktop.

      “What’s the purpose of the gathering?” he asked.

      “We want to start a buzz about the new blend. So we’ve invited several local vintners and a reporter from Through the Grapevine, a local magazine that has expanded its circulation and should bring in more tourists and interest in the wine region.”

      While Lissa described each guest and gave Sullivan a rundown of their holdings and achievements in the industry, they finished their coffee. Then, leaving the puppy to snooze on its bed, they set out to see every nook and cranny of the vineyard.

      The air was fresh and clean from a rain they’d had a couple days before, and as they strolled through the parklike grounds, Sullivan was amazed at the beauty of the place. Besides row upon row of grapes that grew on the rolling hillsides, the lush property displayed a stone-lined fishpond that hosted several mallards and two black swans.

      The manicured lawns nearly begged for people to sit and relish the peaceful sight.

      “Why haven’t you opened up Valencia Vineyards for visitors and tastings?” he asked. “The grounds are beautiful, and I think you could really draw in a fair number of tourists each month.”

      “We’ve thought about it,” Lissa said. “But we’ve always preferred our privacy.”

      “You called me in for advice,” he reminded her.

      “And my father and I intend to consider everything you suggest.” She led him into the new winery that had replaced the older facility they’d used in the past.

      “The construction of this building was a major expense,” she explained. “And some hidden costs depleted our funds more than we’re comfortable with. That’s the primary reason we brought you in as a marketing consultant.”

      “Then you’re in luck. I’m always glad to offer my services.”

      She bit her bottom lip and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She wore an interesting expression.

      One that seemed to ask how far he’d go to offer his services.

      After they’d explored the new winery, Sullivan said, “You’ve done a wonderful job creating a modern and efficient operation.”

      Lissa thought so, too. “Thank you.”

      “And if you decide to open the vineyard and winery for tours, word will quickly spread.”

      “You’re probably right.” She’d have to discuss it with her father. After all, he was the one who valued his privacy.

      “So, where’s that killer new blend I’ve been hearing about?” Sullivan asked. “Do I have to wait for that dinner party tomorrow night?”

      “No. I can let you have a taste now.”

      “Great.” He flashed her a smile that made her heart skip a beat, which was surprising, since she’d grown a lot more comfortable with the man over the past few hours.

      Lissa led him to the tasting room, then took two glasses from the stash they kept in a solid oak cabinet. The walls were lined with wine bottles tucked into crisscrossed shelves. But her special blend remained in an oak barrel that appeared to be only a decoration. She pulled the tap, filled both glasses and offered one to Sullivan.

      Before taking a drink, he clinked his goblet against hers and offered a toast. “To the special lady who made this wine.”

      Lissa appreciated his thoughtful gesture, but didn’t take a sip. Instead, she watched for Sullivan’s reaction, studying the good-looking man over the rim of her glass.

      She guessed he was a bit of a playboy. But how could he not be, with those sexy eyes and that flirty smile?

      Sullivan Grayson was too darn attractive for his own good. Or rather, for her own good.

      Yet he also had a wealth of sexual experience and could make a woman’s first time special. At least, she suspected he would.

      If Lissa had any courage at all, she’d suggest a brief affair. After all, who would get hurt? Not her. She had no illusions about falling in love.

      And he certainly wouldn’t get hurt, since he’d probably never given a thought to settling down. Besides, once his job with Valencia Vineyards was finished, he’d be on his way. And that reason, on top of her fierce attraction, made him a perfect first-time lover—if she were inclined to act out the silly fantasy.

      For Pete’s sake. What if he wasn’t the least bit interested in being her one-time lover? And if he were, her attempts to please him would be clumsy at best. Either way, she’d be embarrassed. Humiliated.

      Mortified.

      Fortunately, she was too shy to even suggest it.

      Sullivan closed his eyes and appeared to be savoring the taste of the wine.

      She held her breath, waiting for him to comment.

      When his gaze locked on hers, his expression grew serious. “Lissa, this is incredible. I’m no expert, by any means, but I know what I like.”

      She blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Really?”

      “It’s great.” His eyes verified his sincerity. “With the


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