“How was he?”
“He sounded fine. Surprised to hear from me, but I’d say he’s cautiously optimistic.”
So this thing would play out after all, Anna thought as the driver hefted their cases from the trunk of the car and went to procure a luggage cart. Not waiting for the man to return, she pulled the handle up on her case and headed for the departure check-in area, but within seconds Judd walked at her side, pushing his own much larger cases on the cart in front of him. Basically, everything was out of her hands from here on in. She could only hope that Nicole would forgive her for her part in the machinations of her father. But somehow Anna doubted any of what was to come would be that easy.
Charles’s driver and handyman, Patrick Evans, collected them from Auckland International Airport. They were nearly home. Evans drove slowly and inexorably toward the massive gothic mansion Charles had built from the original plans of Masters’ Rise—the headlights of the car sweeping the camellia-lined driveway in Auckland’s premier suburb of Remuera. Anna had to admit she was relieved to see the house.
Back in Australia, it had shocked her to see the ruins on the hill overlooking the vineyard. Suddenly the home that had always provided her with security didn’t seem so permanent after all. Of course, bushfires were nonexistent in the city, virtually nonexistent in New Zealand, really, and nowadays Charles had a state-of-the-art fire detection and sprinkler system throughout the house. But there were plenty of things other than bushfires that could tear a house—and a family—apart.
With the time distance between Adelaide and Auckland, and the flight time in between, it was already dark as they pulled up in front of the house, but clever external lighting showed the property off to its glorious advantage. Anna observed Judd, sitting opposite her in the limousine, and watched his reaction.
“So that’s what it looked like,” he said solemnly, his eyes raking the two-storied, pinkish-red brick building. “My memories from before we left were … incomplete.”
“Apparently it’s very true to the original, with extensive modernization, of course. Despite its size, it’s still very much a home.”
The car rolled to a stop outside the front portico, prominently marked by an ivy-covered, three-storied turret complete with a green-aged copper cupola.
“It’s your home.”
He made it a statement, rather than a question. A statement she chose to ignore as she stepped from the car and assisted Patrick in removing the luggage from the spacious trunk of the limousine.
The front doors opened and Anna turned, expecting to see Charles, but instead it was Nicole who stood there. Elegant and tall in her well-cut black suit and with her long dark hair pulled back into a ponytail that exposed her pale face, Nicole stared at the man who was her brother.
“I didn’t believe him when he told me you were coming,” she said, her voice flat—devoid of emotion.
Instantly Anna’s defensive instincts went on full alert. Nicole was usually very outgoing, impulsive and generous to a fault. This frozen pale facsimile of her best friend was something she’d never seen before.
Nicole came down the steps and halted near Anna.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Even as Anna flinched at the question, she found herself internally debating what Nicole was really asking. There was no way to know how much Charles had told her. Had he only announced that Judd was coming back to them—or had he explained all the rest of it, too, all the things Charles had promised to bring his son home?
Either way, her answer was the same. “He asked me not to.”
“And your loyalty to him is greater than to me?” Nicole said softly, the hurt in her words flaying Anna like cold winter rain.
“That’s not fair, Nicole.”
“No, you’re right. But there’s a lot that’s not fair about all this, isn’t there?”
Pain reflected in her friend’s large brown eyes. Anna put a hand on Nicole’s arm and squeezed gently.
“You know I would have spoken to you if I could.”
Nicole nodded and turned back to Judd, who’d remained silent as a statue.
“So, brother, I suppose I should welcome you home.”
She held out her arms and to Anna’s surprise he stepped into her embrace, holding her gently before releasing her and stepping back.
Judd was shocked at the depth of emotion he felt when he saw his sister at the top of the stairs to the house. She’d been a year old when he’d left, and in his mind he’d never imagined her fully grown. Another mark against his father, he thought savagely. All those years wasted.
“We have some catching up to do,” he said.
To his surprise, Nicole laughed. “Well, if that’s not the understatement of the century. Come inside. Dad’s waiting for you.”
Judd turned to Anna, who’d watched his reunion with his sister with a solemn expression on her face. “Are you coming?”
“I think this should be just for the three of you. I’ll catch up with you all at dinner.”
Nicole made a sound of protest. “Don’t be silly, Anna. You know Dad will expect you there, too.”
Anna looked at him, as if waiting for his approval.
“Sure,” he said.
If the stiltedness between her and his sister was any indication, perhaps Nicole didn’t entirely approve of Anna and their father’s closeness.
Nicole hooked her arm in his. In her three-inch heels they were almost of a height and together they walked up the stairs and into the house that was shortly to become all his. One thing was clear to Judd—Charles hadn’t gotten any better about showing consideration to the women in his life. It was obvious Nicole wasn’t aware of the full extent of Charles’s plans for him. He doubted she’d be this friendly if she knew. That would have to be a bridge to cross at a later date. First, he had to go face-to-face with the man who’d cast him from his home and his country twenty-five years ago, and he had to do it with a civil tongue in his head.
Judd’s memories of his father had been of a vital man who exuded energy and bonhomie the moment he stepped in a room. The man who shakily rose to his feet as they entered a large salon was a mere shadow of whom he’d been. Despite Charles’s unmistakable frailty, Judd’s long-harbored anger at his father’s abandonment did not lessen.
“Here he is, Dad,” Nicole said.
“Judd—”
“Sir,” Judd said, stepping forward and offering his hand. He watched his father, searching for the man he remembered but seeing little of the vibrancy of his memories. Charles’s hair was now steel-gray instead of the black Judd remembered, and his posture was less erect, his figure more portly than fit. But even though his father was obviously unwell, there was a keen intelligence that still gleamed in his eyes as they stood face-to-face. Those blue eyes, very like his own, scoured his features as silence stretched out between them. Something in his appearance must have satisfied the older man, because he gave a short nod and gestured to Judd to sit down.
Anna crossed the room and took the seat on the sofa next to Charles, her hand on his forearm as she leaned closer to whisper something in his ear. A fierce wave of something not unlike jealousy rose from deep inside Judd. Her body language shouted a familiarity between Anna and Charles that screamed loud and clear. A familiarity that Judd silently promised would soon change.
“Don’t fuss, Anna. I’m fine,” Charles protested, taking her hand and holding it in his for a moment before releasing it. “Now, let’s not beat around the bush. You know I want proof you’re my son.”
Judd