The Wayward Son. Yvonne LindsayЧитать онлайн книгу.
to be touched. Everything in her body tensed, drawing her into a heightened state of awareness.
“When I need to be,” he responded with a smile that was pure wicked intent from the curve of his lips to the light that gleamed in his eyes.
Anna forced herself to break eye contact. The compelling power of his male beauty was quite enough to take her breath away and to addle her wits along with it. Maybe getting to know Judd Wilson wasn’t such a good idea after all. As Charles’s assistant, she had the opportunity to interact with many powerful and compelling men, but never before had she dealt with a man with such effortless charisma.
The next few days suddenly took on an edge of uncertainty. What on earth had she let herself in for?
Two
The long wooden table in the formal dining room had been set with a dazzling array of china, crystal and cutlery. Anna sent a silent prayer of thanks that her upbringing in Charles Wilson’s home meant that such a setting didn’t faze her. Charles had insisted she have all the same social advantages Nicole enjoyed, even if—with her mother’s position as Charles’s housekeeper and companion—she hadn’t had anywhere near the same financial background.
Seated near the top of the table, at Judd’s right, Anna could observe the family dynamics in action. It was clear that Cynthia was very much the female head of the household. If Judd Wilson physically resembled his father, his estranged sister, Nicole, was her mother personified.
Anna studied Cynthia from her vantage point at the table. This was what her friend would look like in another twenty-five years—without, perhaps, the faint lines of bitterness that bracketed the older woman’s mouth. That said, and despite the swish of gray at her temples that contrasted to her thick, dark hair, Cynthia Masters-Wilson was still a striking woman.
She carried herself with an almost regal air—expecting everyone to defer to her wishes and not holding back her disapproval if those wishes were not observed. Anna wondered briefly what Cynthia had been like early in her marriage to Charles, and found herself caught by the older woman’s very intent gaze. Giving her hostess a smile, Anna tore her eyes away, mildly horrified that she’d been caught staring. The last thing she wanted to do was attract attention to herself.
There was a strong bond between Cynthia and her son, too, Anna observed. Judd, it seemed, was the only one capable of defusing his mother’s rather autocratic attitude and bringing a genuine smile of warmth to her fine features. So why then, when her son was obviously so important to her, had Cynthia left behind her one-year-old daughter, Nicole, when she’d returned to Australia? Had she ever taken a moment to think about the baby girl she’d left behind and what impact her abandonment would have on that infant’s life?
Anna had come to Australia full of sympathy for Charles, who had been so hurt by Cynthia’s actions during their marriage. But seeing the woman now just brought home how badly Nicole had been cheated, as well.
“You’re looking serious. Is everything okay with your meal?” Judd asked softly in her ear.
The gentle caress of his warm breath made her skin tingle, and she forced her concentration back from where she’d let it lead her. Anna shook her head.
“No, everything is wonderful, thank you.”
“Is it something else that’s bothering you?” he pressed, reaching across the table in front of him to lift a bottle of wine to top off her glass.
Just you, she thought before giving her head a shake.
“I’m perhaps a little tired, that’s all.”
“We can be a bit overwhelming, can’t we?” he commented.
“No, it’s not that. Actually, I envy you this. I’m an only child, as were both my parents. To have so many family members all in one place … Well, you’re lucky.”
“Yes, we are lucky—and equally cursed at the same time,” he said with a charming wink that took the sting out of the latter part of his statement.
And Nicole should have had the chance to be a part of this, too, Anna added silently. Not for the first time, she wondered what had happened to drive Charles and Cynthia, and their children, apart. Whatever it was, Charles had flatly refused to discuss it, aside from saying that Cynthia had betrayed his trust—something she knew that Charles considered unforgivable. Whatever it was, Anna knew that it had not only ruined his marriage, but it had led to a major rift between himself and his business partner also. So many lives altered. And here she was, trying to mend a fence. Boy, was she ever out of her depth.
By the time the meal had progressed to coffee and dessert, Anna asked to be excused from the table, pleading tiredness. The gentlemen at the table stood as she moved her chair back, and she found herself completely charmed by the effortless old-world manners.
“Thank you all so much for your company tonight, and for dinner,” she said.
“You’re very welcome, Anna. Just let housekeeping know tomorrow if you’ll be joining us again during your stay,” Cynthia said graciously. “Do you have anything special planned for tomorrow?”
“We’ll be doing some sightseeing and then I’m taking her into Hahndorf for lunch,” Judd interjected.
“Oh?”
Cynthia hid her surprise but not before giving her son a sharp look that gave Anna no doubt that his mother would be grilling him on his choice of companion the minute she left the room. Cynthia composed her features into a bland smile. “Well, then, I hope you enjoy our little taste of Germany. Sleep well.”
“Thank you,” Anna replied and turned to leave the room.
To her surprise, Judd followed her. As they reached the front door she stopped.
“Why did you tell your mother you’re taking me out tomorrow?”
“Because I am,” he said confidently. “You can’t visit the Adelaide Hills without stopping at Hahndorf, as well. It would be culturally insensitive.”
“Culturally insensitive or not, I got the impression she wasn’t too pleased about it.”
“She thinks I don’t work hard enough, but that’s my problem, not yours.”
He opened the front door and gestured for her to precede him. Out on the narrow road that led to the restored pioneer’s cottage where she was staying, Anna felt the night air close in around her with its frigid arms. She shivered, wishing she’d thought to bring her pashmina with her when she’d come across to the house earlier.
“At the risk of being cliché,” Judd said, removing his dinner jacket and dropping it over her shoulders, “I think you need this more than I do.”
“Thank you,” she said softly.
He wasn’t kidding. Judging by the heat of his body still held in the lining of his jacket, he certainly had no need of the garment. She instantly felt warmed by it. A faint waft of spice, blended intrinsically with a hint of vanilla and woody notes, enveloped her. She recognized the scent as Judd’s cologne and felt her bones begin to melt.
“The nights can be quite cool here from now on. The staff will have lit the fire in your cottage for you. It should be lovely and warm compared to out here.”
Anna had an instant and vivid flashback to watching Judd chopping wood this afternoon. Did he accomplish everything with that much vigor?
“It’s still a beautiful night,” she said, looking upward at the inky darkness of the sky peppered with dots of light—anything to distract her from the influence of what he did to her.
“Certainly is.”
There was something about his voice that made her drop her gaze and meet his. He was looking straight at her. Despite the fact that at least a meter separated them, she felt as if he’d reached out and touched her. Anna swallowed against the sudden dryness that parched