Marina Adair - Autumn in the Vineyard

It had taken three years, some tricky negotiating, her entire life savings, and a lot of ball bustingbut Francesca Baudouin was finally a vineyard owner. Well, she was the owner of ten acres of prime St. Helena appellation soil, which would take another five years of sweat and, quite possibly, selling off a few of her vital organs before it fully became a quality producing vineyard.

But Sorrento Ranch, the most sought after property in the valley, and all of its belongings, was hers. She bought it right out from under the DeLucas noses. In part because the owner, Mrs. Sorrento, had played darts with Frankie and Frankies great aunt every Friday night for the past fifteen years, so her loyalties were clear, but mostly because Mrs. Sorrento knew that selling the land to either family involved in the great DeLuca-Baudouin feud would piss off her ex-husband.

One more inch and Ill shoot, Frankie said to the alpaca in front of her, a four-legged garbage disposal whose mouth was currently wrapped around the plastic casing of the water tank. She stomped her ball-busting, steeled-toed combat boot in his direction for added emphasis.

The alpacas beady eyes narrowed and dropped to her feet. Extending its lips in her direction, it made a loud raspberry sound, stomped an aggressive hoof and then went back to nibbling. Yeah, ball-buster or not, hooves beat boots.

But Frankie wasnt about to let some hardheaded alpaca with shaggy hair and buck teeth stick it to her on her first week in business. As the youngest of four, and the only girl, Frankie was a pro at dealing with stubborn males who excelled at ignoring her completely, while messing with her life wholeheartedly.

She cocked her rifle.

The only thing separating you from becoming a pair of next seasons mittens is my trigger finger, Camel Boy. Because the only thing separating them from ten-thousand gallons of well water was the thin plastic seam-binding on the water tank, which Mittens had managed to chew loose. She didnt want to deal with the cleanup and couldnt afford a new irrigation tank. I mean it, one more bite and the only identifying male trait youll have left is stupidity.

That got his attention. In fact, the animal straightened and fluffed out the fur around his face, making him look like a cross between a camel, a koala, and Clifford the Big Red Dog. When he wasnt destroying her property, he was kind of cute. In a big, dumb, oafy kind of way.

Mittens was the sole remaining alpaca from Mrs. Sorrentos farm. The rest of his hooved brethren were living it up at Albertas Paradise Alpaca Farm and Pet Sanctuary. Mittens hadnt even set one hoof in the back of the moving truck when the rest of the heard gathered their spit and took aim. Poor Mittens had been kicked out of his own family and before Frankie or Alberta had been able to catch him, his fluffy butt disappeared, and Alberta had left instructions to call when Frankie secured the runaway. That had been four days, two patio chairs, and a motorcycle tire ago.

See? Frankie lowered her rifle to the ground, picking up the cushion from Mr. Sorrentos old recliner in one hand and a rope in the other. That wasnt so bad. Now just come over here and Ill give you a treat.

Eyes glued to the nubby avocado-green cushion, the alpaca took a tentative step forward.

Then you can go to your new house. Another step. Where they feed you gourmet hay and mud tires, and there are kids around all the time to play with you. Step. And youll get to see your family.

The alpaca stopped, squared its body, and let out an ear-piercing bleat, which sounded like a cross between wark and Chewbacca screaming, right before he sank his teeth into the plastic casing and pulled. Hard.

Mittens!

Wark!

No

The tank split at the seam and before either of them could move, a wall of water came crashing out with enough force to topple Mittens into Frankie and send the two of them skidding back several feet.

When Frankie stopped moving and the water had receded into a pool of mud, she shoved the hair out of her eyes and took stock. She was flat on her back, with a stick poking into her right butt cheek and a drenched Mittens sprawled out over the top of her.

Move. She shoved at the animal.

Wark-wark!

I warned you! But did you listen?

Mittens let out an apologetic nicker and dropped his head to Frankies chest, his big brown eyes looking up at her through long lashes.

You could be halfway to Paradise right now, she said, giving him a little rub behind the ears. Just think, in a few months it will be grooming season and all the ladies will be prancing around in nothing but sheared skin. Plus, youll have your family.

This time the nicker was almost sad. Ignoring the alpacas wet dog smell, Frankie called a temporary truce and dug both hands in his thick fur to scratch his cheeks. Yeah, I get it. Family sucks, but I cant let you stay here. Come spring, Ill start planting my vines and youd eat them.

Mittens huffed, a burst of hot air hitting Frankie in the face.

Liar. She worked her fingers around his temples and behind his ears. The animals eyes slid closed in ecstasy. You already cost me a water tank, which I cant afford to replace by the way.

His only response was to nuzzle Frankies chest and hum loudly.

So, there is no way I have the budget to keep replacing everything you decide to sink your teeth into.

Hum. Hum. Hum.

I hope he bought you dinner first, a voice said.

With a groan, Frankie turned her head and, wishing she were standing so she could glare at him without having to shield her eyes, swore. Upside down or not, there was no mistaking the man who was currently towering over heror the way her stomach gave a lame little flutter when he lifted his mirrored glasses and delivered a heart-stopping wink.

Afternoon, Francesca, he said with enough practiced swagger that it made not rolling her eyes impossible.

Nathaniel DeLuca was six-plus feet of solid muscle, smug-male yumminess, and he smelled like sex. He was also extremely Italian, annoying as hell, and, for whatever reason, every time he entered Frankies space she felt all dainty and feminine. Which pissed her off even more because at one time shed trusted Nate with her heart and a promise of keeping her deepest secret.

And hed broken them both.

Thank God she had on her ball-buster boots today. Too bad they were currently covered in mud, alpaca fur, and pointing at the sky.

Go away, Nathaniel, she said by way of greeting.

Mittens hummed louder, arching into her hand as Frankie scratched down his spine.

And leave a lady in need? Nate asked, coming forward and squatting down to pluck a maple leaf off of Frankies forehead. Nonna ChiChi would have my ass.

I know youre used to your women poised and proper. But Ive got this handled.

I didnt know you paid that much attention to my women, but now that you mentioned the difference He plucked a branch from her hair and flashed his perfectly straight teeth in her face. His smile, like his personality, was lethal and his entitled attitude was one-hundred percent DeLuca. Thats great, he continued, because I wont have to worry that youll cry when I tell you to stop exciting my alpaca and get the hell off my property.

His property?

He plucked off another branch, this time from her shirt, his fingers leaving a heated trail and stirring up all kinds of fireand not the good kind. The last time she remembered being this close to killing him had been at the Summer Wine Showdown three months ago. Hed hard-balled her into sitting on the Tasting Tribunal, they argued over the winner, then hed kissed herright as her grandpa, a tsunami of irate old man, showed up.