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‘I assured her that you weren’t. You were just a rich businessman with not an ounce of intelligence to save your soul.’

He pretended to look offended. ‘You do have a sharp tongue, don’t you?’

His eyes narrowed as men did when they were challenged. ‘I’m actually quite intelligent.’

‘I’ve yet to see evidence of that fact.’ Lord, but she was actually loving this. She’d never sparred verbally with Colin, or any of her other boyfriends. She’d never flirted like this either. But it was such fun.

‘I’ll have you know that I was dux of my school.’

‘Yes, but that’s just school smart, Ben, which is a lot different from street smart. How can you possibly be street smart when you were born with a silver spoon in your mouth?’ It was a lovely mouth, though. The more she studied it, the more she liked it. His bottom lip was full and sensual, whilst his top lip was thinner and harder. She suspected Ben could be stubborn as well as arrogant. Maybe even a little ruthless. But there was something decidedly sexy about a man being ruthless. You wouldn’t want to marry a ruthless man, but having an affair with him was a different matter entirely.

‘Keep that up and your mother might have something to worry about,’ he quipped, his beautiful blue eyes sparkling with good humour. ‘Women have been strangled for less.’

She smiled, and was still smiling when they left the hotel and set off again. It wasn’t till they were well down the road to Mudgee that she realised she hadn’t rung her mother.

‘Is this the road Andy lives on?’ she asked.

‘Yes, I’m sure it is.’

‘Are we nearly there yet?’

‘I think so. It’s been a while since I’ve been up here but I’ll recognise the place once I see it.’

‘In that case I’d like to stop for a sec and make that phone call to Mum,’ she said, pulling off the road and parking under the shade of a tree.

Her mother answered on the second ring.

‘Jess?’

‘Yes, Mum.’

‘Are you okay? Are you there yet?’

‘Yes, Mum, I’m almost there and I’m fine. Mr De Silva wasn’t a serial killer after all,’ she added, at which Ben shook his head at her. ‘He’s really quite nice,’ she added, and pulled a face at him.

He smiled a crooked smile.

‘That’s a relief. A girl can’t be too careful, you know.’

‘Mr De Silva’s friend lives at a winery along this road. After I drop him off, I’ll head into Mudgee and book into a motel. Look, I’d better go. I’ll give you another call later tonight. Bye for now. Love you.’

‘Why didn’t you tell her you were staying at the winery?’ Ben asked as she gunned the engine and pulled out onto the road. ‘I thought you didn’t like lies.’

‘Don’t be silly, Ben. She’s my mother. All girls lie to their mothers. We do it to protect them from worry.’

He laughed. ‘That’s a good one. But I suppose it would be a bit hard to explain.’

‘Very. Now, how far along this road is Valleyview Winery?’

‘Not too far now. I recognise that place over there. I’m sure it’s just along here on the left. Yes, there it is now.’ And he pointed high up to the left.

Her eyes followed the direction of his finger, landing on an impressive federation-style homestead built on the crest of a hill so that its wraparound verandas could take advantage of the valley views.

‘The driveway is not far now,’ Ben added. ‘Yes, there it is.’

Jess slowed, then turned into the driveway, passing through widely set stone gateposts, one of which doubled as a post box, the other having the name ‘Valleyview Winery’ carved into the stone and painted black so that it stood out. The driveway was relatively straight and nicely tarred, bisecting gently sloping paddocks which held rows and rows of grapevines.

‘So, does this place belong to Andy or his parents?’ she asked, Jess only then realising they hadn’t really talked about Andy, or the upcoming wedding, at all. They’d been totally taken up with each other.

‘His parents. And the house is actually not as old as it looks. His folks built it while we were at boarding school together. His dad was a stock broker in Sydney but made enough money to retire early, so he decided to indulge his hobby and start up a winery.’

Jess suppressed a sigh. She should have known Ben’s best friend would be rich.

‘And what does Andy do?’

‘He’s now the official wine-maker here. He did law like me when he first left school, but decided after we graduated that it wasn’t for him, so he went to France and studied wine-making with the masters. Then he came back and took over. Till then his dad hired a professional wine-maker. Apparently, it’s not an art you can learn from a how-to book.’

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