He stuffed his hands into his jeans pockets and took the few steps separating them. “I got a call from Donna Vega. She tells me you’re interested in the property.”
Her grin slipped a little, but she clambered to her feet and looked around the dingy, dirty room with a gleam in her eye before she turned back to him. “I didn’t think she’d call you. I was going to tell you myself later—”
“Tell me what exactly?”
She brushed her hands together in a futile attempt to dislodge the black streaks covering her palms. “I was out driving and saw the for sale sign in the window, so I stopped to take a look. I called Donna to let me in so I could explore a little.”
“That explains what you’re doing. Not why.”
She whipped her short, curly hair off her face with a toss of her head. “I’m going to be opening a bakery, in about a year, remember? This place would be perfect.”
He shook his head. “This place is only suitable for firewood.”
“You have no imagination.”
Travis tried to see what she did in the old bar, but frankly, it escaped him. But that wasn’t the point right now anyway. “You shouldn’t be doing this now.”
“What?”
“Looking at property,” he said with a wave of his hand to indicate the decrepit building. “Haven’t we got enough to deal with at the moment?”
“Travis,” she said, looking into his eyes. “This has nothing to do with any of the other stuff going on.”
“No?” He cocked his head, folded his arms across his chest and tried not to breathe. There was a very weird smell in the room. “You don’t think the reporters following us around would love to print the story of King’s new wife going out to open her own business? King wives don’t have to work.”
“What planet are you from?” Julie demanded, hands at her h*ps and feet braced for battle.
“Just a minute—”
“No, you wait a minute.” She tipped her head to one side as if she were thinking deeply, then said, “I suppose you don’t remember your mom doing ranch work every day.”
“That was different,” Travis argued.
“It was work. Work she loved doing,” Julie shot right back.
“My mom is not the point here.”
“No, she’s not,” Julie said. “But Gina is a ‘King wife’ and she works. She raises and trains horses.”
“At the home ranch.”
“Oh, so it’s not the work that bothers you, it’s where your wife works?”
Was it completely crazy, Travis wondered, that he liked that fire in her eyes? Probably.
“Not the point,” he said tightly. “You’re not opening the bakery until after the marriage is over, so why get people talking now? Don’t we have enough going on at the moment anyway? Damn it, Julie, we’re supposed to be a united front. How’s it look to everyone if you’re sneaking around behind my back?”
She flushed and her gaze shifted to one side. Her mouth went firm and tight and she rocked uneasily on her heels. “I hate it when you’re right.”
“That was too easy,” he muttered, wondering what else was going on in her mind. It wasn’t like her to give up so quickly.
“Well, I wasn’t thinking how it would look to everyone else in town. And I hate having to worry about how something looks to somebody else. Why should they care what we do? Why are we big news?”
“Hell if I know,” Travis said. “Maybe people don’t have enough excitement in their own lives so they need to find it somewhere else.”
“Does it have to be us?”
“At the moment,” he conceded, hating it every bit as much as she did. “Sooner or later though, some other poor fool will get into the spotlight and we’ll fade away. Until then…”
She lifted her gaze to his again. “I know, I know. I wasn’t sneaking, Travis. I saw the place and stopped for a look. I was going to tell you. I mean, if I’m going to tell you something, that can’t be sneaky by definition, right?”
“Uh-huh.” He was getting a fairly uneasy feeling about all this now. “What else don’t I know?”
Nine
“Y ou didn’t mention the fact that you kissed him!”
Travis’s voice echoed off the high ceiling in the tasting room at the winery. The gleaming oak-paneled room was empty but for the two of them and for a moment, Julie really wished for the crowd that was due to arrive at any moment.
Twice a week, the King winery hosted tastings in this room. Busloads of tourists wandered through this room, the winemaking area and the gift shop. They tasted wine, snacked on the offerings that Julie herself made for the occasions and, in general, had a lovely time while providing a nice distraction for everyone else from the everyday work of the winery.
She looked up from the elegant table set with china, old silver and the appetizers and desserts she’d spent most of the day cooking. There were tiny, perfect shrimp, dark green sprigs of prosciutto-wrapped asparagus and gourmet crackers dotted with a feta/spinach mixture. The desserts were nearby and looking just as tempting—lemon tarts, brownie bits with hot fudge baked inside and tiny shortbread cookies dipped in an almond cream sauce. And yes, she was thinking about food because she wasn’t quite ready to concentrate on her husband just yet.
Hopefully, the finger foods she’d spent hours putting together would entice their visitors far more than they interested her at the moment.
But then, the strangers headed for the winery wouldn’t be facing the thundercloud of Travis’s expression. Julie’s stomach churned uneasily and she swallowed hard to avoid the sudden rush of nausea filling her mouth.
Watching as Travis stalked across the shining wood floor, she nearly groaned at the flash of fury in his eyes. Apparently, she wasn’t going to be feeling better anytime soon. The way he shook the newspaper he held told her that she wasn’t going to like what was in it.
A sinking sensation opened up inside her and she really wished she could avoid this confrontation. She didn’t much care if that made her a coward or not.
Yesterday, she’d confessed to her meeting with Jean Claude and had thought that after that explosive argument with Travis, the subject would be buried. Naturally, her life just wasn’t that easy.
And how strange was it that even facing Travis when he was angry, she felt a rush of heat that pushed through her bloodstream in a frantic race. He wore an expensively cut black suit, white dress shirt and a bold red tie. His dark hair was ruffled and his eyes were flashing.