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His eyes traveled over the hallway, from the rosewood table topped with a crystal vase to the marble sculpture posed in front of a two-story mirror. What had Everleigh seen when she’d first laid eyes on Casa de Cabrera? Had she been impressed? Or had the sight confirmed her accusations that his world of glamor was unsuitable for Fox?
His hands curled into fists as he stalked down the hall into his study. This questioning of his own ability as a businessman and leader in the wine industry was unacceptable. He analyzed, yes, and self-critiqued, and looked for ways to improve. But he never questioned himself like this—never had before that headstrong woman had crashed his party and upset his world.
He hadn’t thought about Abuela, Nicole or the pain of his childhood this much in a very long time, and he could place the blame of reliving the past squarely on Everleigh’s shoulders.
CHAPTER NINE
EVERLEIGHWAITEDUNTILDiego closed the door before letting her shoulders sag. She fell back on the feather bed, sinking into a plush silver comforter.
The opulence surrounding her was almost too much to take in. The sleigh bed was the comfiest thing she’d ever laid on. A watercolor painting of the Alhambra palace she’d seen on the drive in hung above the headboard. Luxurious button-tufted armchairs were arranged in front of a large bank of windows that led out onto a balcony, where there was a view of the nearby snowcapped peaks of the Sierra Nevada Mountains, stretched tall against a periwinkle-blue sky.
She got to her feet and walked outside to breathe in the crisp, clean mountain air. The sight of the house had unnerved her. The private jet, the limo, the mountainside mansion—all of it reminded her that not only was she no longer in New York, but she was moving in an entirely different kind of society.
Tears stung her eyes. Her mom would have loved all of it. The scenery, the adventure of traveling, the challenge of talking to a man like Adrian... She’d had a gift for making even the most curmudgeonly soul smile.
Everleigh gripped the railing. God, she wished he’d never kissed her. Although it didn’t matter how strong their attraction was—they were too different. She was a country girl. He was a sophisticated international billionaire. She wanted love, a husband and a family she could share the farmhouse and Fox Vineyards with. He wanted status, fortune and the occasional tryst. All she’d get from him would be a night, maybe two, and then he’d move on.
A gentle wind teased her hair and drew her back to the moment. The bed called for her to crawl under the covers and sink into a blissful sleep. But just beyond the gorgeous gardens she spied a familiar sight: row upon row of vines.
Her feet moved of their own accord and took her out of the guest room, down the stairs and out through a pair of doors at the back of the main hall. She stepped into a lush backyard, thick grass cushioning her steps as she bypassed flowering trees and bushes. A wrought-iron gate sat in the wall surrounding the gardens, separating the cultured landscape from the rambling beauty of the vineyards.
She lifted the latch and walked into the fields.
A deep breath brought the welcome scents of foliage and moist soil, and she felt the stress melting away and leaving her more relaxed than she had been in days. She slipped off her sandals and savored the softness of the earth underneath her feet.Heaven.
She walked over to one of the vine stakes and bent down for a closer look. The trunks of the vines were healthy, thick, and covered in bright green leaves. A couple bunches of tiny grapes hung from the vines. In another month or two the grapes would mature and be ready for harvest.
“Buenos días.”
Everleigh whirled around to see an older woman standing a few feet behind her. Thick brown hair tumbled over one shoulder, with delicate strands of silver weaving through the tresses. The sharp angles of her jaw and strong, pronounced cheekbones were offset by a kind smile that made Everleigh feel at ease.
“Uh...buenos días,” Everleigh replied.
The woman’s smile widened. She was dressed in jeans with dirt-stained knees, a black shirt and gardening gloves. A straw hat hung from one hand, while the other clutched a pair of pruning shears.
“You are a guest of Casa de Cabrera?” the woman asked, her voice husky and tinged with a lilting Spanish accent.
“Sort of,” Everleigh replied with a laugh. “I’m here on business for a few weeks. Mr. Cabrera was kind enough to give me a place to stay.”
“Mr. Cabrera has good taste in who he chooses to do business with.”
Everleigh flushed hot at the implication behind the woman’s words. “Oh, no. No, I’m just here to help with the transition of a purchase he’s making.” Everleigh tugged on the end of her ponytail, suddenly self-conscious. “I didn’t catch your name...?”
“Isabella.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Isabella. I’m Everleigh.” Everleigh gestured to the vineyards. “Have you worked here long?”
“Oh, yes, many years. I am prejudiced, but I think it’s the most beautiful winery in Spain.”
Everleigh smiled. “I’ve only seen this one, but I’d have to agree. The flowers along the main drive are out of a fairy-tale.”
Isabella cocked her head slightly. “So you like it here?”
“Very much. Whoever designed all this had an eye for detail.”
A twinkle appeared in Isabella’s eye. “I agree. It was nice to meet you, Everleigh.”
She bowed her head in Everleigh’s direction and then continued on, deeper into the vineyards.
