Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks!. Kimberly Lang
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“I don’t know how we ever ended up together in the first place.”
She regretted the words the moment they left her lips. When would she learn not to wave the red flag in front of the bull just because she was angry?
Jack’s eyes lit alarmingly and traced a path down her body, leaving her skin tingling again in their wake. A slow half-smile crossed Jack’s face. “Oh, I think you remember why, Bren,” he said quietly. “I know I do.”
She was close enough to feel the heat radiating off his body. A rush of desire slammed into her, making her knees wobble and her heart beat faster. He traced a finger over her collarbone and down the top of her arm. A shiver moved through her.
“We’ve always had this…”
Sex wouldn’t solve anything. It never had, she reminded herself. They’d been down this path many, many times. Fight bitterly, then have fabulous make-up sex. It never made anything better.
She had to remember that. No matter how much her body begged to differ. No matter how strong the ache was.
No matter how much she wanted him.
Dear Reader
I’ve been turning this story over in my head since a trip to San Francisco in 2008. We took a drive through wine country, and I was so taken with the scenery I knew I had to set a book there. I spent the plane ride home plotting and planning.
But then Jack and Brenna came to life. They were such strong characters that my plan for the story went out of the window as they took over. Sparks flew—and not just between Brenna and Jack! I know: sane people don’t normally argue with the fictional beings they have created. But this was their story, and they weren’t about to comply with just any old plot. This book allowed me to grow as a writer, and the end result is much better than I planned on that long-ago plane ride.
I had to learn a lot about wine for this story, and I’m very thankful to have had two very knowledgeable sources to help me out with the details of wine-making: Frank LaFoon of LaFoon Vineyards, and Karen Hand of the Blue Sky Vineyard. Frank grows amazing grapes, and Karen makes wonderful wines—Brenna would definitely like both of them!
My first book was released a year ago this month, and it’s been an amazing and incredible year. I’ve learned so much and had a fabulous time! I thank all of you who have taken the time to write and let me know how much you’ve enjoyed my books—those e-mails brought home the fact this was all real, not just some really cool dream.
All the best
Kimberly
Kimberly Lang hid romance novels behind her textbooks in junior high, and even a Master’s programme in English couldn’t break her obsession with dashing heroes and happily ever after. A ballet dancer turned English teacher, Kimberly married an electrical engineer and turned her life into an ongoing episode of When Dilbert Met Frasier. She and her Darling Geek live in beautiful North Alabama, with their one Amazing Child—who, unfortunately, shows an aptitude for sports.
Visit Kimberly at www.booksbykimberly.com for the latest news—and don’t forget to say hi while you’re there!
Recent titles by the same author:
MAGNATE’S MISTRESS…ACCIDENTALLY EXPECTING!
THE MILLIONAIRE’S MISBEHAVING MISTRESS
THE SECRET MISTRESS ARRANGEMENT
Boardroom Rivals, Bedroom Fireworks!
By
Kimberly Lang
MILLS & BOON ®
This one is for my mom:
If books are like children, then this book was me at
fifteen: headstrong, occasionally wilful, and not afraid
to do its own thing. But, based on your example, I just
kept faith in it, and it turned out to be fabulous and
totally worth it in the end (hopefully also like me!).
I love you, Mom. Thanks for putting up with me.
Chapter One
“THEY’RE ready, Brenna. I’ll call Marco and tell him to have the crews here in the morning.”
“It’s too soon.” Brenna double-checked the number on the refractometer in shock. No one else in Sonoma had grapes ripe this early; that was for sure. “We should have a couple of more weeks, at least.”
“You doubt me?” Ted’s affront was only partially feigned, and, though they’d been friends and coworkers for years, Brenna rushed to smooth the ruffled feathers of her viticulturist.
“Not at all. No one knows these vines better than you. I’m surprised, that’s all.”
Placated, Ted popped a grape into his mouth and chewed, a small, blissful smile crossing his face. “Obviously these grapes like our sunny summers and this drought. You just don’t want to harvest in the heat.”
“True.” But that was only part of it. The new tanks had only arrived last week and were stacked haphazardly around the building. The main pump was still being temperamental, and there was so much paperwork left to do…and…and…she needed those couple of extra weeks just to finish getting her head together. She wasn’t ready to start the crush right now.
Brenna looked at the vines, all heavy with ripe fruit—fruit that wasn’t going to hold on while she adjusted to the new situation at a leisurely pace. Amante Verano Cellars was her responsibility now.
Well, mostly.
Ready or not, these grapes were coming in. She knew what to do; she’d been doing it her entire life. But she’d never done it alone. That responsibility weighed heavily on her shoulders.
“I just wish Max were here.” The sigh in Ted’s voice brought her back to reality with a jerk.
“I know. These vines were Max’s ticket to wineworld domination—or at the very least a gold medal.” She smiled weakly at Ted as her inspection of the grapes digressed to aimless fiddling. “He really should be here for this. It’s not fair.” She blinked back the tears threatening to escape again. She couldn’t fall apart in front of Ted—or anyone else. Max would expect her to solider on, and everyone at Amante Verano needed to believe she had this under control. “Call Marco. We’ll have the first grapes in the tank by tomorrow night.”
They walked up the hill together, stopping occasionally to test the sugars and make notes on the grapes on different acres. The other vines were being slightly more predictable in their timelines. Another two weeks—give or take—and they’d be ready. September would be high-gear time.
“Have you talked to Jack yet?” Ted asked the question too quietly, too casually.
Her heart thumped in her chest at the mention of his name. “Not since the funeral, and then only for a minute.” And that had been awkward and difficult, not to mention painful on more levels than she cared to admit. She’d exchanged condolences, shaken his hand and left. End of story.
“Does he know?”
“Oh, I’m sure he does. Max’s lawyer called me to explain the partnership and what it meant, and I have to assume Jack was the first to know.”
“And?” Ted was the first to brave asking the question she knew was on everyone’s mind.
“There is no ‘and.’ I’m sure