“I think you’ll like it. We’re staying at a vineyard with a hotel attached. One of the board members owns it. I understand there’s a pool, tennis courts, a spa and just about anything else you might like. And, of course, there’s wine.”
He made it sound like she would be on her own most of the time, which suited her just fine. She didn’t consider herself much of an actress so trying to convince people of the improbable idea that she and Tanner were a couple was distressing.
Finally they drove out of the vines into an open space where a huge structure that looked like a French château stood. Tall, thin trees flanked it on both sides and a manicured yard begged for Whitney to lie in the emerald-colored grass. If she’d been impressed with the landscape on the drive here, this view made her catch her breath. It was picture-perfect and despite the reason she was there Whitney could hardly wait to see inside.
Tanner leaned over and said close to her ear. “See, it’s not going to be all bad, being here with me.”
Whitney turned. Her mouth stopped only inches from his. Her heart fluttered. She looked into his velvety brown eyes. They could swallow her up if she let them and she would never know how it had happened. For long moments, though far too short for her, she waited, watched. Dreamed. Tanner’s head lowered a fraction. He was going to kiss her. No, this wasn’t what this weekend was about.
She blinked and quickly pulled back. She wouldn’t be his plaything. She wasn’t in his league when it came to casual affairs, she was sure. He would win every time. “I didn’t say it was going to be bad. I just don’t like being told what I’m going to do.”
He leaned back and looked at her. “Noted. With that in mind, I’m asking you, not telling, would you please take off that hideous scarf before someone comes out?”
Whitney didn’t have time to reply before the door to the hotel opened and a sophisticatedly dressed woman started their way. Quickly Whitney removed the scarf and the band securing her hair. Shaking it loose, she ran a hand through it. She looked to Tanner. “Better?”
A strange look had come over his face and he said softly, “Much.” Seconds later a crease marred his forehead. “Can we keep what you do for a living between ourselves?”
“I won’t lie.”
His look held hers. “Maybe just evade the question.”
A young man in a knit shirt and khaki pants followed close behind the woman. This was a far fancier place than Whitney had expected.
“Hello, Tanner. Welcome to the Garonne Winery,” the woman said warmly as Tanner stepped out of the car.
The young man opened Whitney’s door for her. She said, “Thank you,” and received a warm smile.
“Marie Jarvis, I’d like you to meet Whitney Thomason,” Tanner said from the other side of the car.
Marie stepped to Whitney with a well-manicured hand extended. “It’s so nice to meet a special friend of Tanner’s.”
Whitney smiled and took her hand. Marie had no idea just how special a friend Whitney was.
Marie waved Tanner away from the trunk of the car. “Kevin will see to your bags and park your car. Just come join us by the pool. We have cool drinks waiting.”
“That sounds lovely,” Whitney said.
Tanner offered her an encouraging smile. On their way to the door he took her hand. His touch sent a tingle of awareness through her. It was so powerful that for a second she almost jerked away. Remembering they had to pretend they were a couple, she got control of herself. She hadn’t counted on her body’s reaction to being in such close contact with Tanner. Or how hard she would have to work to remember his touches were just for show. She tried to appear relaxed but her insides were a jumble of knotted nerves. Tanner gave her fingers a squeeze. Did he sense the effect he was having on her?
He allowed her to enter ahead of him through the tall double doors that opened into the cool dimness of the château. The entrance hall was every bit as astounding as the outside. A wrought-iron staircase circled up on both sides of the foyer to a landing. On each side of the landing were large windows with heavy drapes. From there, the stairs climbed again to branch off right and left. To one side of the foyer there was a small Queen Anne–style desk with an attractive young woman seated behind it.
Marie waved in the woman’s direction and she smiled before Marie said to them, “Don’t worry about checking in. I’ve already taken care of everything.”
Kevin moved across the gray tile floor past them, laden with baggage, and headed up the stairs.
“The pool is this way.” Marie walked toward the back of the building.
As they stepped out into the bright light once more, the scene reminded Whitney of a 1940s picture of a movie star’s pool. The men stood in groups, talking, with drinks in their hands while the women sunbathed on loungers.
A flutter of anxiety went through her. She was in over her head. Could she get out of this now? What did she have in common with these people? Tanner expected her to mix and mingle. How was she supposed to do that?
When she would have pulled her hand out of Tanner’s he gripped it tighter. Had he read her mind and been afraid she might run? Somehow his clasp gave her confidence. Taking a deep breath, Whitney reminded herself that she was no longer that overweight girl who’d felt inadequate for so long. Or at least she didn’t plan to let anyone make her feel that way. She was educated, owned her own business and paid her bills. There was nothing for her to feel ashamed of.
Marie said, “Tanner, why don’t you introduce Whitney around then you both can change into your bathing suits and join us.”
Whitney scanned the area. Even the women who were twice her age seemed to have better bodies than she did. Stretch marks and extra skin still plagued her, despite the number of years that had passed since she’d lost so much weight. Wearing a swimsuit in front of these people, particularly Tanner, wasn’t something she was interested in doing.
Tanner’s hand on her waist directed her toward the closest group of people. She wasn’t used to his touch and certainly not to her reaction to it. If the situation didn’t make her nervous enough, Tanner’s close proximity did. Why? She wasn’t even sure she liked him.
As they approached the group the circle opened to include them.
A man with more white than dark hair and a round belly stepped forward. “Tanner, glad you could make it.”
“Malcolm, thanks for having us.” Tanner gave her a slight nudge. “I’d like you to meet Whitney. Whitney, this is Malcolm Jarvis, the chairman of the hospital board and the owner of the Garonne Winery. Best known, though, as Marie’s husband.”
“Yes, yes. Good to meet you.” Malcolm smiled at her.
Whitney couldn’t help but return one of her own. “Nice to meet you as well. You have a beautiful place here.”
“Thank you. Please, make yourself at home this weekend. All the hotel amenities are open to you while you’re here.”
Tanner faced another man. “This is Dr. Russell Karr, the medical chair and my boss.”
Dr. Karr offered his hand. She took it and received a firm shake as he said, “Nice to meet you, Whitney. I look forward to getting to know you.”
“And I you.” To her amazement she’d managed to say that without her voice wavering.
His hand still on the small of her back, which was surprisingly reassuring, Tanner guided her around the pool. He introduced her to each guest, which included Sue Ann, Russell’s wife, Ellen and Carlos Gonzales, and Lucy and Rick Hunt.
A woman close to their age, wearing a skimpy yellow bikini, stood as Whitney and Tanner came around the end of the pool toward her lounger. She rushed to Tanner and th
rew her arms around his neck.
Something about their friendliness said there was history between them. Whitney’s radar went off. She wasn’t going to like this person. Why should it matter what their relationship had been? Tanner didn’t belong to her.
“Hello, Charlotte.” Tanner’s voice didn’t sound as warm as her hug would suggest. He removed her arms and stepped away. “I’d like you to meet my girlfriend, Whitney Thomason.”
The word girlfriend had rolled off his tongue as if it were the truth. Had he put extra emphasis on the word as well? It took all of Whitney’s willpower not to stare at him as he continued, “Whitney, this is Charlotte Rivers. Her fiancé is Max Little and he is a member of the board. By the way, where is Max?”
Charlotte looked at Whitney as if she were something she would pull off the bottom of her shoe. “He’ll be here later this evening. There was a last-minute case.”
Not a good history, would be Whitney’s guess.
“I know about those. We’re going in to get settled. Maybe be out for a swim later.” Again, Tanner’s hand came to Whitney’s waist. For some reason it gave her a sense of satisfaction to know Tanner was leaving with her. She held her head just a little bit higher.
When they were out of hearing distance from anyone Whitney said, “I don’t think Charlotte likes me too much.”
“I wouldn’t worry about it.”
“She’s not going to sneak into our room in the middle of the night and take a knife to me and hop into bed with you, is she?”
Tanner stopped walking, threw his head back and let out a huge belly laugh. Hardly able to contain his mirth, he said, “Why, Ms. Matchmaker, I had no idea you had such a sense of the dramatic. I promise to be the one to open the door if anyone knocks. Feel safer now?”
She grinned. “A little.” After a moment she dared to ask, “So what’s the story with her?”
“Let’s just say she doesn’t like being turned down when she wants something.” Putting his arm around her shoulder, he pulled her to him. This was a friendly action of two people conspiring together.