Her father glanced at his menu. ‘It sounds as though it’s the kind of work you enjoy. It’s what you were doing in England, in Shropshire, isn’t it?’
‘That’s right.’
The wine waiter arrived, pouring a small amount of clear, red wine for her father to taste, before filling two glasses.
Katie took a sip of her drink, savouring the rich, fruity flavour. She sent her father a quick, searching glance. Somehow he always managed to get her to talk about herself. He very rarely revealed anything of his lifestyle, about what had brought him to where he was now.
‘What about you?’ she asked. ‘Did you always have it in mind to come out here—was there something about Carmel Valley that drew you—or was it someone who led you to this place?’
‘The company I worked for sent me out here,initially,’ he answered, placing his menu down on the table. He nodded towards the one she was holding. ‘Have you decided what you’d like to eat yet? The filet mignon is always good.’
‘Yes, I think I’ll go with that. But I’d prefer the cold slices, rather than a steak, I think…with tomato, red onion and blue cheese.’
‘And a Caesar salad?’
‘That sounds good.’
He nodded. ‘I’ll grab the waitress’s attention.’ He studied her once more. ‘So what’s been happening to get you all flustered today? You’ve always been calm and collected whenever we’ve seen one another, up to now. Is it a problem at work?’
She shook her head. ‘Not really…I mean, yes, in a way, I suppose.’ She gave an inward sigh and braced herself. It didn’t look as though he was going to give up on trying to tease it out of her, so she may as well get it off her chest.
‘I saw a little boy at the clinic today,’ she said. ‘He was around four years old, and his mother told me he’d been unwell for some time. She hadn’t known what to do because his symptoms were vague, and she put it down to the fact that he’d had a cold and sore throat. Only he took a sudden turn for the worse. When I examined him, his body was swollen with oedema, his blood pressure was high, and his heart was racing.’
Her father frowned. ‘Seems that he was in a bad way, poor little chap.’
‘Yes, he was. I had him admitted to the renal unit. He was losing protein in his urine, and it looks as though his kidneys are inflamed.’
He winced. ‘Definitely bad news. So, what will happen to him now?’
‘They’ll do tests, and give him supportive treatment. Probably diuretics to bring down the swelling, and he’ll be put on a low-sodium, low-protein diet.’
She glanced around once more, looking out over the redwood deck rail to the ocean beyond. The sound of birds calling to one another mingled with the soft whoosh of surf as it dashed against the rocks below.
She looked back at him. ‘What about you? You haven’t told me much about yourself. Mum said that you worked in the import and export trade years ago—you had to travel a lot, she said.’
‘Yes, I did. I suppose that’s how I first became interested in the wine business.’ He beckoned the waitress and gave their orders. After the girl had left, he said gently, ‘This child you treated—he isn’t the reason you’re not quite yourself, is he? After all, you must have come across that kind of thing many times in the course of your work.’
She nodded, brushing a flyaway tendril of chestnut hair from her cheek. Her hair was long, a mass of unruly natural curls that defied all her attempts to restrain them. ‘That’s true.’ She pressed her lips together, uneasy at having to revisit the source of her discomfort. ‘I think he reminded me of a child I treated back in Shropshire… my ex-boyfriend’s son, though he was much younger, only two years old. He had the same condition.’
‘Ah…’ He leaned back in his chair, a thoughtful expression crossing his face. ‘So it made you think about the situation back home. I see it now. Your mother told me all about the break-up.’
She sent him a sharp glance. ‘You’ve spoken to my mother?’
‘I have.’ He gave a faint smile. ‘She called me… naturally, when she knew you would be coming out here, she wanted to make sure that you would be all right. A mother’s protective instinct at work, I guess.’
Katie frowned, and began to finger her napkin. She wasn’t at all pleased with her father knowing everything there was to know about her personal life. In many ways he was an unknown quantity as far as she was concerned, and yet it appeared he knew things about her that she would much rather had remained secret.
She was still trying to take it on board when a man approached their table. He was in his mid-thirties, she guessed, a striking figure of a man with dark, smouldering good looks that sent an immediate frisson of awareness to ripple along her spine. His clothes were superb. He was wearing an immaculate dark suit that had been expertly and, no doubt, expensively tailored, while his shirt was made from a beautiful fabric, finished in a deep shade of blue that perfectly matched his eyes.
Those eyes widened as he looked at Katie, and his gaze drifted appreciatively over her, lingering for a while on the burnished chestnut curls that brushed her shoulders, before moving downwards to lightly stroke her softly feminine curves.
Katie shifted uncomfortably in her seat, trying to shake off the impact of that scorching gaze. She felt warm all over, and the breath caught in her throat. Suddenly, she was all too conscious of the closely-fitting blouse she was wearing, a pintucked design in delicate cotton, teamed with a dove-grey, pencil-slim skirt.
Getting herself together, she looked up, deciding to face him head on and return the scrutiny in full measure. He had a perfectly honed physique, long and lean, undoubtedly firm-muscled beneath all the civilised trappings. His hair was jet black, strong and crisply styled, cut short as though to tame it, but even so there was an errant kink to the strands. He had the dazzling, sensual good looks of an Italian-American.
His glance met hers and a glint of flame sparked in his blue eyes. Then he dragged his gaze from her and turned to her father.
‘Jack,’ he said, ‘this is a pleasant surprise. It’s good to see you.’ He extended a lightly bronzed hand in greeting. ‘I’d thought of dropping by the house in the next day or so, since you’ve not been looking too well of late. How are things with you?’ His voice was evenly modulated, deep and soothing like a creamy liqueur brandy, and Katie’s heart began to thump heavily in response. Why on earth was this man having such an effect on her?
‘Things are fine, Nick, thanks.’ Her father waved a hand towards Katie. ‘You haven’t met my daughter, Katie, have you?’
Nick looked startled. ‘Your daughter? I had no idea…’
‘No. Well…’ Her father cut him short, his breath rasping slightly with the effort. ‘It’s a long story. She came over here from the UK just a fortnight ago.’ He switched his attention to Katie. ‘Let me introduce you,’ he said. ‘Katie, this is Nick Bellini. He and his family own the vineyard next to mine. He’s in partnership with his father and brother.’
Katie frowned. So her father hadn’t even told his friends that he had a daughter. Another small part of her closed down inside. Perhaps she had been hoping for too much. Coming out here might turn out to be the biggest mistake of her life so far.
‘I’m pleased to meet you,’ Katie murmured. She wasn’t expecting him to respond