Summer Escape With The Tycoon. Donna Alward

he was divorced. It wasn’t her fault that negotiations hadn’t gone his way.

      She wondered why they’d split in the first place. There was always a reason. She’d heard them all in her years in the firm. A few had caused some raised eyebrows but little surprised her now. She looked at him, standing with his weight on one hip, his hand tucked into the pocket of pressed khakis and his shirt taut against a broad chest. Appearances didn’t count for a whole lot when it came to a lifetime of happiness, but she couldn’t discount the way her breath caught just a little when she looked at him. It wasn’t just that he was handsome. There was a quiet confidence that was magnetic. Yesterday he’d been insufferably overbearing when he’d barged into her room, but something told her he wasn’t always so abrasive.

      So he didn’t like what she did for a living. So what? She hadn’t come on this trip as some sort of way to meet a man or hook up. She’d done it to expand her own horizons. To take charge of her own life and live a little. Eric Chambault wasn’t going to stand in the way of that, so she adjusted her shoulder strap, put a smile on her face and made her way to the congregated group standing just outside in the sun, waiting for the luxury passenger vans that would take them to their next destination.

      * * *

      Eric tipped back his head and let the sun soak into his face. Their tour guide, Shawn, had told them that the first day of the trip was their easiest one—wine tours and tastings. While it wasn’t really on the extreme adventure list, the tour centered on showcasing what Vancouver Island had to offer.

      Right now Eric was sitting on a patio just outside the town of Duncan, with the sun beating down on his face and the smell of tart wine and freshly cut grass touching his nose. On his next deep breath, he thought he could taste the tang of the ocean in the air. Maybe this was the “easy” day, but the relaxation came as a welcome relief from his hectic schedule.

      He was one of the first back from the tour of the cellars, but his solitude was short-lived as the other eleven in the group made their way, talking and laughing, to the stone patio for lunch. He straightened and smiled as people approached, already flushed from stopping at two other wineries before their late meal. A light laugh caught his attention and he looked up to see Molly—Ms. Quinn—smiling up at someone he’d met named Rick, who was a real-estate developer from Arizona. Rick was at least fifty with a booming laugh, so Eric wasn’t sure why on earth he’d feel the least bit of jealousy.

      Maybe because when Molly looked at Eric she tended to scowl, rather than smile, like she was doing right now.

      The group congregated around the collection of tables, and within moments the staff began delivering wine selections and platters of local cheese, freshly baked breads, olives, roasted vegetables and fruit. Once again, Molly seemed like the odd person out, like him. Everyone else was either part of a couple or traveling in pairs with a buddy. His skin tingled as her skirt brushed his arm when she pulled out a chair and sat beside him.

      “This was a consequence I hadn’t anticipated,” he said quietly as she picked up her napkin.

      “What’s that?”

      “Being a single in a group full of doubles. It seems as if we’re paired up once again.”

      “I apologize.”

      Her voice was soft but there was an underlying steel that made him smile. “I should be the one apologizing,” he replied, feeling a bit like a jerk. “I shouldn’t have used the word consequence. It has a negative connotation.”

      And yet the correct word seemed just out of reach.

      She met his gaze, and he was momentarily lost in her clear blue eyes. “I’m sure that as we go on, we’ll make friends in the group so we’re not always stuck with each other.”

      As in, she was also stuck with him.

      A server poured wine into Molly’s glass and she tasted it, savored and nodded. He indicated he’d have the same. The pinot blanc was buttery and with notes of pear, and while Eric tended to prefer reds, he found it really quite nice. For a few minutes they focused on filling their small plates with selections from the platters. Then Eric turned to her and offered an apology.

      “I’m sorry for what I said last night. I’m still bitter from the divorce. But clearly it isn’t your fault.”

      “Just people like me.”

      He swallowed tightly, unsure of how to respond. She wasn’t wrong.

      “Like I said last night, your lawyer should have done better for you,” she suggested, spearing an olive on her plate. “I would have.”

      He wasn’t sure how he felt about that. “It wasn’t just about the money,” he said quietly. “That stings, but I’ll make it back. It wasn’t my whole fortune. Not even close, really.”

      He wasn’t trying to brag; it was the truth.

      She chewed and swallowed thoughtfully. “Were there significant grounds for the divorce?”

      “You mean, did she catch me cheating or something?”

      Molly raised an eyebrow and popped a piece of cheese in her mouth.

      “No,” he answered tightly. “No, I didn’t cheat. And I don’t think she did, either. We just...didn’t suit.”

      “What are you leaving out?”

      Her gaze had never wavered from his face, and he realized it both put him on the spot and had the consequence of making him also feel incredibly heard. For the first time, he admitted where he’d been at fault. “She called me unavailable. As in... I work too much. That she wanted a husband, not voice mail and an empty bed.”

      “And was she right?”

      He took another gulp of wine, the pang in his heart a reminder of how he’d failed. He had loved her. And he’d tried to provide her with a secure life, which in the end she hadn’t appreciated. Ironic, considering she was very secure now. “She wasn’t exactly wrong about work.”

      Molly sat back. “So you’re taking this vacation to...”

      He stared out over the sloping vines and sighed. “Well, to unplug for the first time in years, really. It was hell not turning on my phone today.”

      She laughed then, the sound brushing over him like a summer breeze. “Oh, I wish I’d had your willpower. My father called me early this morning about a case. And a chance to twist the knife a bit that I’ve abandoned the family firm.”

      Eric’s mouth fell open. “By leaving for less than two weeks?”

      She rolled her eyes and nodded. “I’m usually the ‘yes’ girl. I was getting tired of having my whole life planned and scheduled by someone else, so I bid on the trip.” She met his gaze again. “I was supposed to do this a month ago. Instead I had to finish up a Very Important Case.” She sipped her wine and grabbed a slice of bread. “Just so you know, they’re all Very Important Cases.”

      “My deals, too. I’m in acquisitions.”

      She considered a moment. “So you, what? Buy, strip and resell?”

      “Pretty much.”

      “You’re like that guy in Pretty Woman. He didn’t build or make anything, either.”

      “I make money,” he suggested and then laughed a little at himself. “That’s why I was in Nantucket. I was working on a deal in Boston. Going to the benefit was a bit of goodwill on my part. Not that it wasn’t a good cause. And hey. It got me here, and I would have missed walking into the wrong hotel room and being flayed alive by the sharp edge of your tongue.” He gave a sideways glance. “You must be terrifying in the courtroom.”

      She burst out laughing, then sighed. “Oh, I suppose I am. But it’s exhausting. It’s...a mind-set, really. I have to try really hard to leave work at work. You and I have something in common, you know.”

      “What’s