Deadly Offer by Vicki Doudera Page B

that still, all these years later, made him hot with desire. His memories of the dark-haired brunette went back to the years before she’d married the much-older Michael, back when she was Andrea McDougal, paying off her college loans by being the twins’ nanny.
    Twenty-plus years ago. Could it really have been that long? Those were the days when the hills of Ventano Valley were still dotted with farms, when tourism was an industry that flourished someplace else. Restaurants back then catered to people who wanted dinner, not an “experience,” and wine, if it was expensive, came from France.
    He took a curve too sharply and felt a surge of adrenalin flood his veins. The key to satisfying the Contentos was Carson Creek. Michael was a fool not to have purchased the property years ago, back when Harrison had unrolled the surveys and spelled it all out. “Someday, you may want to expand Contento Family Vineyards,” he’d predicted. “Getting this land now will give you that opportunity.”
    But Michael Contento had shut him right down, told him he didn’t need any more property, and practically accused him of being a land pimp. Idiot.
    That was weeks before Selena Thompson came out of nowhere to buy the acreage. Selena, who knew more about braiding her hair than she did about viticulture, and whose initial attempts at making wine were nothing short of ludicrous. She’d used words like “holistic, organic, biodynamic,” and the wine makers of the valley had laughed behind her back. Harrison took a deep breath of the clean valley air as he zoomed past a recreational vehicle towing a tiny car. Selena had shown toughness in those early years, he had to give her that. Within months, she’d lured Dan Stewart from the Contentos and begun making wine in earnest. Gradually, the snickers turned to grudging admiration. And then, lo and behold, those ridiculous adjectives she’d tossed out came into fashion.
    Rest in peace, Harrison Wainfield thought, swerving to avoid a red squirrel as his tires squealed in protest. Moments later he slowed the Mercedes, let his muscles relax, and stroked his strawberry-blonde goatee. What really mattered was that Carson Creek was once again available. The Contento family would get the extra land they wanted, thanks to him, and Andrea might be persuaded to show her gratitude.
    He felt the familiar ache and smiled. It was practically a done deal.
    ———
    Sophie Stewart brought a forkful of pesto-coated pasta to her lips. Delicious, but that generally was the case with anything that came out of the Contento’s kitchen. She thought back longingly to when her father worked at Contento vineyards and a batch of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies would magically appear. They were to die for, Sophie remembered. Thick and yet soft, and absolutely chock full of milk chocolate morsels …
    She chewed the bite of pasta and went for another scoop. Minutes earlier she’d seen annoyance on her father’s face when she’d brought the tray of pills into the living room, but the Asian woman from San Diego with the funny name—Darby Farr—had quietly told her “Good job.” And it had been a nice piece of detective work, finding all those prescription pills and knowing it meant Selena had some sort of serious illness. Her dad hadn’t had any time to say anything, because the door was suddenly opened by the Contentos and a few people from town.
    Sophie tucked her hair behind her ears, savoring the taste of the fresh basil and the perfect chewiness of the penne. Poor Selena had never cooked like this. Sophie remembered that she followed some kind of weird diet that meant all her food looked like—and probably tasted like—cardboard. Maybe that was because of all those medications. Despite the fact that Selena didn’t make anything anywhere near as delicious as those chocolate chip cookies, Sophie knew her father had been much happier at Carson Creek than he had been when he’d worked at the