love in four days?
Should she have got some contact details at least, instead of allowing her mobile number to be the only link between them? Although he did know where to find her.
Then school had broken up and she’d come home for the holidays. A couple of days later, she came home one evening to find her father slumped on the floor in the lounge, apparently unconscious.
She checked his pulse and flew upstairs to get her mother, gabbling at the same time about how he must have tripped on the rug or …
‘No, darling, he’s drunk,’ Fiona Theron said sadly as she twisted her thin hands and stared down at her comatose husband.
‘Drunk?’ Kim echoed incredulously.
Fiona nodded. ‘It happens a lot these days.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re going under, sweetheart. I begged him to tell you but he keeps…well…hoping for a miracle.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ Kim whispered. ‘Why didn’t Damien tell me?’ Damien was her older brother and her father’s second in command.
‘Damien …’ Fiona gestured helplessly. ‘But anyway …’
‘No! Tell me about Damien,’ Kim insisted.
‘Damien—’ her mother swallowed painfully ‘—oh, look, Damien is not a businessman, Kim. You must know that. Horses are his life.’ Fiona paused and burst into tears.
The next morning at ten, Kim held an emergency family meeting. She looked so pale, and still so confused, her father and brother, both of whom would have preferred to be a million miles away, thought twice about it and attended.
‘Tell me, Dad,’ she begged. ‘Tell me what’s happened.’
Frank Theron was a big man, silver-haired now but still good-looking, although he had a livid bruise on his cheek from his collapse last night, and other signs Kim hadn’t noticed that all was not well—red veins in his cheeks, prominent pouches beneath his eyes.
‘Kim,’ he said on a heavy sigh, ‘the last five years have been very difficult. We’ve had several outbreaks of powdery mildew and you know how that can affect not only the grapes but wine quality. We’ve had a drought, then floods, then a fire. We’ve had a global financial downturn.’ He stopped to sigh again. ‘And we live quite an extravagant lifestyle.’
Damien, her brother, looked down. He maintained a stable of polo ponies. Kim looked at the lovely designer dress she wore and thought of her sports car, her twenty-first birthday present …
‘So?’ she queried.
‘So we put the winery on the market,’ Frank continued, looking animated for the first time, although angrily so, ‘and attracted the attention of a complete upstart!’
‘I wouldn’t call him that,’ Fiona murmured.
‘You mightn’t but I would,’ her husband insisted.‘What does he know about wine, about grapes? He was born in a boundary rider’s hut on some godforsaken cattle station. And he had the nerve to offer me a pittance. For Balthazar!’
‘Upstart or not,’ Damien Theron said moodily, ‘he’s made a fortune.’ Damien had inherited their mother’s dark eyes and hair and their father’s height but not his bulk. He was whip-thin but that was deceptive—when you saw him on a headstrong horse, you couldn’t doubt he was strong. ‘You have to admit that, Dad,’ he added.
Frank turned angrily on his son but Kim intervened.
‘Just a minute. If he was born in a boundary rider’s hut, how can he be offering…Even a pittance for Balthazar has got to be quite a sum!’
‘Mining,’ Frank said succinctly. ‘He bought a mine no one else wanted and the rest—i.e., a fortune when he sold it—is history. Now he specializes in buying run-down companies. He waits until they’re on their knees, then comes in like a scavenger.’
Kim’s lips parted and a shiver ran down her spine as a dreadful premonition took her in its grip …
‘What’s his name?’ she asked with a dry throat.
Her father waved a hand. ‘Doesn’t matter. Don’t concern yourself, Kimmie.’
‘I must.’ She swivelled her
Should she have got some contact details at least, instead of allowing her mobile number to be the only link between them? Although he did know where to find her.
Then school had broken up and she’d come home for the holidays. A couple of days later, she came home one evening to find her father slumped on the floor in the lounge, apparently unconscious.
She checked his pulse and flew upstairs to get her mother, gabbling at the same time about how he must have tripped on the rug or …
‘No, darling, he’s drunk,’ Fiona Theron said sadly as she twisted her thin hands and stared down at her comatose husband.
‘Drunk?’ Kim echoed incredulously.
Fiona nodded. ‘It happens a lot these days.’
‘Why?’
‘We’re going under, sweetheart. I begged him to tell you but he keeps…well…hoping for a miracle.’
‘I don’t believe this,’ Kim whispered. ‘Why didn’t Damien tell me?’ Damien was her older brother and her father’s second in command.
‘Damien …’ Fiona gestured helplessly. ‘But anyway …’
‘No! Tell me about Damien,’ Kim insisted.
‘Damien—’ her mother swallowed painfully ‘—oh, look, Damien is not a businessman, Kim. You must know that. Horses are his life.’ Fiona paused and burst into tears.
The next morning at ten, Kim held an emergency family meeting. She looked so pale, and still so confused, her father and brother, both of whom would have preferred to be a million miles away, thought twice about it and attended.
‘Tell me, Dad,’ she begged. ‘Tell me what’s happened.’
Frank Theron was a big man, silver-haired now but still good-looking, although he had a livid bruise on his cheek from his collapse last night, and other signs Kim hadn’t noticed that all was not well—red veins in his cheeks, prominent pouches beneath his eyes.
‘Kim,’ he said on a heavy sigh, ‘the last five years have been very difficult. We’ve had several outbreaks of powdery mildew and you know how that can affect not only the grapes but wine quality. We’ve had a drought, then floods, then a fire. We’ve had a global financial downturn.’ He stopped to sigh again. ‘And we live quite an extravagant lifestyle.’
Damien, her brother, looked down. He maintained a stable of polo ponies. Kim looked at the lovely designer dress she wore and thought of her sports car, her twenty-first birthday present …
‘So?’ she queried.
‘So we put the winery on the market,’ Frank continued, looking animated for the first time, although angrily so, ‘and attracted the attention of a complete upstart!’
‘I wouldn’t call him that,’ Fiona murmured.
‘You mightn’t but I would,’ her husband insisted.‘What does he know about wine, about grapes? He was born in a boundary rider’s hut on some godforsaken cattle station. And he had the nerve to offer me a pittance. For Balthazar!’
‘Upstart or not,’ Damien Theron said moodily, ‘he’s made a fortune.’ Damien had inherited their mother’s dark eyes and hair and their father’s height but not his bulk. He was whip-thin but that was deceptive—when you saw him on a headstrong horse, you couldn’t doubt he was strong. ‘You have to admit that, Dad,’ he added.
Frank turned angrily on his son but Kim intervened.
‘Just a minute. If he was born in a boundary rider’s hut, how can he be offering…Even a pittance for Balthazar has got to be quite a sum!’
‘Mining,’ Frank said succinctly. ‘He bought a mine no one else wanted and the rest—i.e., a fortune when he sold it—is history. Now he specializes in buying run-down companies. He waits until they’re on their knees, then comes in like a scavenger.’
Kim’s lips parted and a shiver ran down her spine as a dreadful premonition took her in its grip …
‘What’s his name?’ she asked with a dry throat.
Her father waved a hand. ‘Doesn’t matter. Don’t concern yourself, Kimmie.’
‘I must.’ She swivelled her
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