Taste for Wine: A Taste for Love Novella

Book 2: Taste for Love

by Francine Beaton

Genres: Contemporary Romance; 20th Century Romance; Second Chance Romance; second chance; secret baby; marriage and divorce

Synopsis

Businessman Santiago Figueras arrives in Edinburgh to reclaim his missing wife. But why should Olivia Holmes trust him now, when he left her stranded in a foreign country three years ago? All she wants to do is to protect the son Santiago didn’t know he had.

Santiago makes Olivia a shrewd offer she cannot refuse—and she follows him to Argentina to rebuild their marriage.

Olivia is still addicted to the taste of Santiago’s kisses, but can she give him her heart again?

Years of hurt and mistrust are not easily erased and threaten to tear them apart once more.

Can Santiago and Olivia’s love grow deep roots among Mendoza’s vineyards, or will they harvest only a lifetime of regrets?

 

Release date: August 6, 2019

Publisher: Francine Beaton

Print pages: 168

Sample

PROLOGUE

 

 She couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t swallow back the bile and rushed to the bathroom to get rid of the coffee she consumed throughout the night.

Why did he do that? Why did he leave without telling her?

She sank on the floor, unaware of the cold seeping through the tiles as a thought hit her.

Maybe he never planned to take her.

He left her without a word, and without a place to stay apparently as the woman’s voice penetrated her thoughts, “I’ll expect you to be out by tomorrow, Mrs Figueras.”

Carmen, the woman who had been her boss for the last few weeks, smirked as she emphasised Olivia’s title. She didn’t allow Olivia to respond before she continued, “The agreement was for a married couple, and since your husband resigned with immediate effect and left, you can no longer stay here. We must find a replacement for him and that person will need the accommodation. You can pick up your check in the morning when you drop off the keys,” she added.

Carmen was probably the only person Olivia knew who would relish the thought of someone else’s misery. She was enjoying this, but then, since they stepped onto the farm, Carmen made it clear she wanted Santiago. When he didn’t fall for her, Carmen made Olivia’s life a misery. Olivia refused to complain though and never even mentioned it to Santiago. He knew of Carmen’s devious ways, but he didn’t have to see her every day like Olivia did.

No, Carmen enjoyed Olivia’s pain. She hated that the woman had followed her, revelling in her humiliation.

When Carmen left her alone at last, Olivia could let the tears flow.

Why Yago? Why now?

What had happened between Friday night and Saturday morning? They spoke as usual on Friday night before Olivia fell into an exhausted sleep after two hours on the road, then set up for the wine fair in Langebaan and the opening night. She had one missed call from him on Saturday morning, but from then on, it was silence. Nothing. Zilch. Nada.

She hadn’t expected to find an empty house upon her return on Sunday evening. First, she thought Santiago was working or spending time with the wine owners as he often did, but he didn’t return her phone calls or messages. Then she started searching for him on the estate but couldn’t find him. As a last resort, she swallowed her pride this morning and asked Carmen if she’d known where Santiago was.

Oh, Carmen knew, yes. Olivia could see the satisfaction she had when she told Olivia that her husband had left. And no, he didn’t say where he was going and nor had he left a forwarding address. All she knew was that he wasn’t coming back.

Olivia didn’t want to believe it. Santiago wouldn’t do that to her, would he?

She had run back to the cottage they shared the last four weeks since their arrival in South Africa. But it hadn’t been a lie. His cupboard was empty, and there was no sign of his bags. The safe holding their documents was also empty. Olivia took her passport and licence with her, but Santiago’s was gone. So were all their other personal papers and the extra cash they had.

The same thought as earlier returned. Maybe Santiago never wanted to take her. Maybe it was all too soon and he got cold feet. Maybe he didn’t love her as much as she loved him.

Why else would he leave her alone here in a foreign country with barely a cent to her name?

What was she going to do?

 

 

 

1

 

Three years later

Santiago followed her progress when she exited the building. He bit back his irritation when she stopped to talk to one of her colleagues. His impatience almost got the better of him. He clenched his hands in the pockets of the coat he wore as a defence to the cold.

He exhaled when she made her way down the stairs towards the corner where he’d been waiting for the last hour. She had followed the same routine for the previous three days. It surprised him. She hadn’t been a person bound by habits when he knew her before.

Santiago took a deep breath and felt the same stirring in his body as he had since the moment they met.

Her gait was firm. Santiago knew she didn’t walk that way on purpose. She’d been oblivious to what her confident stride had done to him.

Dios, he found her walk as sexy as he had the first time. He felt the heat pooling in a lower part of his body and shifted. Not now.

She couldn’t side-track him. Anyway, not yet.

Her golden hair hung over her shoulders. It was longer than it had been before. Now and then the breeze lifted the strands, and she would wipe it from her face with an irritated movement.

If not for the frown marring her otherwise flawless skin, she would’ve looked at ease with the world.

It had been three very long and lonely years, but Santiago had waited long enough. The last three days had been agony watching her and not do what he had fantasised about doing during the time they had been apart.

Yet, he had to wait.

He wanted to have all the facts before he confronted her. He was no longer the impulsive fool of three years ago. He had no choice but to grow up fast. There were times over the last three years he missed the carefree life he had before—four months of it spent with this woman in his arms and in his bed.

Olivia Holmes.

No, Olivia Holmes Figueras. His wife.

Santiago inhaled when she drew closer. For three days he could watch her only from afar. It hadn’t prepared him for the close-up view he had now, and neither had the photo of her he’d seen on her company’s website. This was not his Olivia or the woman he remembered. Her expression was sober, wan almost. Dark circles marred her natural beauty. Where her face had been soft but lean before, it was now too thin, too angular, the cheekbones prominent. And those beautiful, expressive blue eyes that reeled him in from the second they met his, had lost their sparkle.

What had happened to his Olivia?

For a split second or two, she reminded him of someone else, and pain stabbed through his chest. He pushed it back for now, but he knew. The similarity was too vivid, and the memory won’t stay hidden for long.

But not now. Olivia had almost reached him. It was time.

In one fluid movement, Santiago pushed away from the wall he had leaned against and straightened. She still hadn’t seen him. That was not until he stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

 

Olivia tried to put the day behind her. The tension and unease in the office had become a constant in the last month. It was getting unbearable, and everyone had been on tenterhooks.

Olivia, like all her colleagues, hoped that Geoff could seal the deal tomorrow. The Garcia contract would be a lucrative one and would keep them in business for at least another year. The move to the smaller premises here in Leith had helped to keep them afloat for a while longer. The rent was more affordable here, and for Olivia, it meant not travelling so far to work. At least it put less strain on her already tight budget. Even though the extra jobs at Young’s Incorporated and at Joe’s Coffee House over the weekends helped, it still didn’t stretch far enough to get rid of her debt.

How much longer could she go on like this? The answer came quickly.

As long as it takes.

She glanced at Joe’s, wondering if she should step in for a quick coffee, but refuted the idea. Kirsty and Iain Young were already helping more than she liked. She knew Iain didn’t really need her at Young’s. His personal assistant was efficient enough to do the little work he paid Olivia to do, but she couldn’t refuse his offer. She needed the money too much.

A man stepped in front of her, interrupting her thoughts. Olivia frowned, irritated when he blocked her way. Geez, the sidewalks here in Leith were wide. Even though he was a big man, there was more than enough space for him to avoid her. She moved to step around him, but he moved in the same direction, again blocking her way. She bit back the retort. She didn’t want to get into an argument with a stranger. She was in a hurry, as she usually was these days. All she wanted to do was get home.

She again attempted to step around the person blocking her path, when something registered in the recesses of her brain. She looked up and inhaled. It felt as if someone punched her in the stomach.

No, it couldn’t be him. Was she daydreaming? Maybe she had been thinking of him so many times over the last few weeks that she was now hallucinating.

When he had disappeared almost three years ago, Olivia thought she would never see him again. But here he was.

Santiago Figueras.

What was he doing in Edinburgh?

The musky aroma of his aftershave was as familiar as his eyes when he took off his sunglasses. Olivia inhaled deeply, whispering his name, “Yago.”

She regretted it. She didn’t want to remember this man. She didn’t want him to know he still affected her.

His voice, however, had the same effect as he had on her before. Deep and gravelly, it sounded the same, even though he spoke Spanish and not English as he had then.

“Buenas tardes, mi esposa. Cómo estás?”

Olivia closed her eyes, pushing the memories of the feelings he evoked when he used that seductive tone to the back of her mind. It didn’t matter how much he still affected her, she needed to get away from him. She didn’t need Santiago to come and mess up her life again as he had before. She was the one that had to deal with his leaving daily.

The sooner she could put distance between them, the better. Mere seconds in Santiago’s company was enough to remind her of how it had been between them since the moment they met in Italy almost four years ago. She couldn’t deny it. The chemistry was still as intense, judging by her body’s traitorous reaction.

“I’m fine, but you must excuse me. I’m in a hurry,” Olivia managed.

She again attempted to step around Santiago, but she had no chance. He took her arm, sliding his fingers seductively down the sleeve of her jacket to capture her wrist.

“Why are you in such a hurry, querida? I’m certain you have five minutes to talk to your husband you haven’t seen in three years.”

“You’re not my husband, and no, I don’t have time to talk to you. As I’ve said, I’m in a hurry.”

His sudden low chuckle sent ripples down her skin, but his next words shocked Olivia to the core. She sucked in her breath when he said, “Oh, I can’t remember signing any divorce papers. Have you?”

Olivia shook her head in shock. Santiago laughed again, “Then you’ll find I’m still your husband. I have the papers to prove it. We need to talk.”

The earth swayed, and her legs felt weak. Olivia swallowed, hoping that she would not pass out. Her breath came in shallow puffs, not enough to bring oxygen to her suddenly hazy brain. Strong arms pulled her against a firm chest. Hands stroked over her back as she took in his whispered words, “Breathe, Tesoro. Breathe.”

Somehow it must’ve penetrated as she followed his command. Breathe. Air. Bringing with it a hefty whiff of musk and Santiago.

Her heart still beat too fast as his words registered. And she realised where she was.

Like hell!

He would not do this to her. Angry, she pushed at his chest. Her action surprised him. “Take your hands off me and stay the hell away from me.”

His eyes narrowed, and then he chuckled, the sound low and husky, causing ripples down her spine. “Tsk, tsk, querida. Have you forgotten how much it turns me on when you get all hoity-toity?”

Olivia spat at him, “I don’t care!”

She moved to step around him again, but then he grabbed her wrist. His fingers held firm. His voice was soft, his strong accent punctuating each word.

“Well, I do. We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you. If you want me to sign divorce papers, send it to my office.”

His thumb brushed over her wrist, almost making her forget she was angry. Hell, he could always do that, but she couldn’t let him see that he still had such power over her. He took a step closer to her, bringing their bodies close enough to touch. His murmur was so soft, she almost didn’t catch his words, “I don’t want a divorce, Tesoro. I want my wife.”

“Well, you should’ve thought about that three years ago.”

“I’m warning you, Tesoro, if you know what’s good for you, you will talk to me. Let me take you home.”

Olivia shook her head, but she knew Santiago. He wouldn’t take no for an answer.

Her mind told her to resist, to fight him, but deep down, she wanted to know why he was here. Why now?

She sighed resignedly. The why didn’t matter. Santiago was here and she could now do what she couldn’t three years ago. It’s not to say she would make it easy for him. Olivia glared at him, “That’s fine. Let’s get it over with.”

She ignored the satisfied gleam in his eyes before he turned his head and lifted a hand.

Arrogant bastard! He hadn’t changed since then. His arrogance was now only more pronounced.

He tugged at her wrist to the Bentley that had pulled up at the curb. Santiago held the door open for her to let Olivia slide into the seat. The next minute he settled next to her and raised his eyebrow, grunting, “Your address?”

The panic kicked in again. Could she afford to let Santiago take her home? Shouldn’t she jump out of the car and disappear in the alleys? If he didn’t know her address, he wouldn’t find her. And he never needed to know…

No, she couldn’t do it. Fate had stepped in, bringing him here. She could no longer hide behind excuses of not knowing where he was.

She mumbled her address, which Santiago repeated in Spanish to the driver, who tapped it into his GPS.

They didn’t talk on the way. Olivia tried to prepare herself for what was to come as she studied him.

He was still good-looking. No, in fact, he was more attractive than he’d been the last time Olivia saw him. His dark hair was longer, flopping over his ears and the collar of his coat. The eyes, even darker than his hair, were still as expressive, complemented by his olive skin.

There was a difference, though. There was no sign of the laughing, carefree man who stole her heart. In his place was a man who didn’t look like he laughed much. Lines had etched its way around his eyes and mouth.

That wasn’t all. Where Santiago lived in jeans and ratty T-shirts before, he now wore an expensive-looking suit and coat. She didn’t have to see his shoes to know that they were expensive too. Everything about him screamed wealth and success.

She ignored the sudden bout of envy. What would it help to even think about it? All it would do was to emphasise the difference between their lives now.

The man sitting next to her was not her Yago anymore. This man was Santiago Matías Figueras, different, but still as attractive as he’d been. Olivia would bet that this Santiago wouldn’t share a simple meal with her, sitting on the floor with a glass of wine, sharing a bowl of olives, cheese and fresh bread as they often did on their tight budget.

Digging up old memories was not helping. Olivia needed to prepare herself for what she had to say to him. If she could do that without sounding bitter, she could feel better about herself. She didn’t want him to see the effect he still had on her or how much he had hurt her when he left without a word, without even looking back.