Clearly the courier pack he’d received this morning had borne the news Charles had wanted so very much. A vague numbness permeated Anna’s body, leaving her confused about how she felt about the news. It was what Charles had wanted, there was no doubt about that. But she knew he hadn’t said a word yet to Nicole about his plans. If he had, she knew Nicole would have discussed it with her. Still, Nicole had been avoiding her lately, still stung, Anna was sure, over her not disclosing the reason for her trip to Adelaide. Worried she might miss Nicole, she sent her a text message.
Don’t be late tonight. Your dad wants us all dressed up for dinner. He has an announcement to make. —A.
Nicole was quick to reply; a series of question marks flashed across Anna’s screen. She swallowed against the knot of disloyalty that tightened in her throat as she texted back.
No idea what it’s about, sorry.
On the way to her room she passed by Charles’s suite, knocking softly on the door before letting herself in. He wasn’t in his private sitting room, so she figured he must be resting. It had become a regular habit of his after a half day at the office—late starts, early finishes and plenty of rest in between. She was reluctant to disturb his nap, but she needed to talk to him about Nicole. Deciding to wait until she heard him up and about in the bedroom, she settled on one of the comfortable sofas he had in the sitting room and popped her feet up beside her.
Some time later Anna stirred at the sound of running water coming from the other room. She blinked to clear her eyes, realizing it had grown full dark outside. She dragged a hand through her hair. It was sticking every which way. Darn, she knew she should have tied it up today. A quick glance at her watch revealed how close it was to the dinner hour. There was no way she’d be able to be ready and talk to Charles this side of dinner. As it was, she’d be pushing it to get ready on time.
She shrugged out of her jacket, tucking it under one arm, and untucked then started to unbutton her blouse as she headed for the door. She opened it and slipped outside into the hallway, only to come face-to-face with Judd. Her nostrils flared, taking in the freshly showered scent of him.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she said, trying to sidestep past him and get to her room, “I’m running late.”
Judd’s expression, usually distinctly unreadable, reflected a look of surprise, before a cold, calculating look appeared in his eyes.
“So I see,” he said, stepping to one side to let her by.
Understanding dawned with the drenching effect of sub-Antarctic waters. “It’s not—”
“Didn’t you say you were running late?” he reminded her with that arch to his brow that he used with such great effect.
Without another word she stalked past him to her room a little farther down the hall. She closed the door behind her and leaned against the solid wooden surface, realizing that she was shaking. There was no question that Judd thought he’d caught her in flagrante delicto. Anna pushed herself away from the door and forced herself to walk through to her en suite bathroom, peeling the rest of her clothes off on the way. What should it matter what Judd Wilson thought? It wasn’t the truth, so as far as she was concerned it shouldn’t matter one iota. Even so, as she stepped beneath the spray of her shower, she couldn’t help wishing she hadn’t put that look of disapproval on his face.
By the time she’d dressed, reapplied her makeup and swept her hair up into an elegant chignon, she’d missed predinner drinks. She joined Charles, Judd and Nicole as they walked through to the dining room. Despite her text to Nicole, her friend obviously hadn’t had time to change out of her work clothes—or perhaps had chosen not to, knowing it would rile her father.
“Sorry I’m late,” Anna said breathlessly as she entered the dining room.
“You’re here in time for the important news,” Charles said with a thread of emotion in his voice that put Anna’s nerves on edge.
She took her seat, opposite Judd, feeling the blue fire of his gaze upon her as she did so.
“What important news?” Nicole asked.
Anna felt her throat close and her chest tighten. This wasn’t going to be pretty. As dependable as Nicole was in a business setting, she wasn’t known for deliberation or contemplation when it came to her private affairs. Impulsiveness and impetuosity were more her mark in trade. She wasn’t going to take the news of her father’s plans happily. Especially not when she’d worked so hard at his side all these years, striving constantly to be everything he needed in business and in family.
Charles seemed oblivious to Anna’s distress and to the storm that was brewing. He was puffed up with pride. Anna hadn’t seen him this animated in some time. He picked up his glass and gestured in Judd’s direction.
“I’d like to propose a toast. To my son, Judd. Welcome home, where you truly belong.”
Anna hazarded a look at Judd, watching to see if this open declaration that he was definitely Charles’s son would have an effect on him at all. She was disappointed. He merely nodded toward his father and raised his own glass in response.
“Aren’t you repeating yourself, Dad?” Nicole asked. “Didn’t we already go through this last Friday when Judd arrived?”
“No, I’m not repeating things at all. It is a relief to an old man to be able to acknowledge his family, all his family, now that the results have come in. And to that end I have a small presentation to make.”
Charles patted a long, narrow envelope that sat on the tablecloth next to his place setting. He picked it up and handed it to Judd.
“You’ll find it all in there, son. Exactly as I promised.”
Even though he knew there had never been any doubt about his paternity, Judd felt a thrill of exhilaration surge through him. Here it was, the moment he’d been waiting for, for most of his adult life. His father handing him the tools with which to pay him back for what he’d done to Judd and his mother all those years ago. Tomorrow he would have a solicitor draw up the share-transfer papers in order for him to present Nate Hunter with an offer that the man could not refuse. The controlling interest in Wilson Wines for the princely sum of one dollar. Judd took the proffered envelope.
“Thank you, sir.”
“Oh, surely you don’t have to call me ‘sir,’” Charles blustered. “If you can’t call me Dad, then at least call me Charles.”
“Thank you, Charles.”
He saw the hope in his father’s eyes dim a little. There was no way he could call this man “Dad,” not after all these years. He scanned the two women at the table. Anna sat there, frozen, as if she was expecting something terrible to happen and she was totally helpless to prevent it. He began to get some understanding of the reason why when he saw his sister’s face.
Confusion battled with irritation across her features and it didn’t take long before she was demanding some clarity about what had just been passed over to him.
“What did you promise, Dad?” she asked, a fine tremor in her voice betraying her heightened nerves.
“Only what Judd has always been due, Nicole.”
She flung a dark-eyed glare at Judd. “And that would be?”
“The deed to the house and a controlling interest in Wilson Wines. The rest will go to you on my death, as you well know,” Charles interjected. “Now, shall we have another toast and get down to the business of enjoying the wonderful meal I know Mrs. Evans has prepared?”
“A controlling interest in Wilson Wines?” Nicole’s voice rose on a note of incredulity. “Dad, what are you doing? He doesn’t know the first thing about the business.”