The morning would have been beautiful—cold, but sunny. The morning should have been a happy one with all three of the new Sol y Sombra wines receiving winning reviews. The morning would have been perfect if it wasn’t that Etán stared through the window of his office, enduring the sight of Luca taking Zenna for another one of their long walks. They were laughing. Zenna actually looked relaxed for a change. Despite the guards following a few paces behind them, he noticed Luca often touched her hair. Sometimes he took her hand to pull her in one direction or another.
Luca put his arm around her as he pointed out details about plants, trees, or flowers. She laughed when he picked a flower and tucked it into her hair. They kneeled on the lawn, collecting peacock feathers. Etán watched their stroll until they finally disappeared from his sight, his hands behind his back. He had never imagined his heart could feel any worse than the time Sanita had told him she was leaving.
“They make a nice couple, don’t they?” Emmie spoke behind his back.
Etán turned slowly, his face a mask. “Is that so?”
“So sweet, the way Luca fusses over her.” She smiled dreamily. “I hope someday someone will fuss over me like that. I think I have to trade my boyfriend in for another one.”
Etán sounded more irritated than he intended. “Do all women need to be fussed over?”
“Sometimes, yes. Sometimes, we all need a little bit of fussing. You look like you could do with some.”
Etán walked back to his desk, looking through the files that contained the wine notes. “I hate a big fuss,” he said dryly.
“Then why so tense, today?”
“If I wanted a psychological evaluation, I would have gotten a professional one. How far are you with my sales report summary?”
Emmie looked hurt. “I was just trying to be nice, you know.”
Etán sighed. “I’m sorry. You’re right. Just ignore me today, all right? I’m not in the best of moods.”
“Etán, you haven’t been in the best of moods for days now. What’s eating you? Is it the wine? Is something wrong with the vines? The last time you acted like this was when we had that bacteria in the cellar, when the temperature control broke and all our wine turned into vinegar overnight.”
“There’s nothing wrong with the vines, the temperature control, or the wine. Get back to work, will you?”
“Fine. You could cheer up a little. It is Friday, after all.”
“I don’t do weekends, remember?”
“Oh yes, I forgot. Mr. All-work-and-no-play.”
Etán didn’t answer. He already had his nose in a file.
Emmie sighed, and walked back to her desk.
Early Friday afternoon Etán saw Pedro’s car approaching and turning toward the office building instead of the house. He walked outside to greet his father.
Etán smiled. “You don’t look too bad for a man who had to fend for himself for most of the week. Missed Mom’s cooking?”
Pedro chuckled. “You have no idea, but I missed her more.”
He regarded his father with a sense of admiration. His parents had a very special relationship. He felt sorry he was the one to put his family to shame, the first one in his line of ancestors with a divorce behind his name.
Pedro put his hands in his pockets. “The vineyard is looking good. Shall we take a walk?”
Etán knew it was his father’s way of telling him they needed to talk. He fell in beside Pedro, walking in the direction of the vineyards.
Pedro kicked a pebble with the tip of his shoe. “Luca seems to be spending more time at the estate. Could it be he is finally taking some interest in the business?”
Etán smiled wryly. “I think his interests rather revolve around Zenna.”
“Is that so? Interesting development. Either way, I’m pleased he is starting to show some form of interest. I’d never force something on him. You know how your mother and I feel about that. We’ve always wanted you to do what makes you happy. Emmie tells me he’s been asking for financial reports and going over sales figures.”
“Mmm,” Etán said, “he has done that. Even made some good suggestions as to how to cut back on production costs, and he has interesting ideas on how to increase our sales potential.”
“I would like to see that at some stage. He has always been good at finance. Not that you’re bad at it, but you’re better at development.”
They carried on walking for a while in silence, and then Pedro stopped, peering out at the expanse of golden vines stretching out before them. “Do you enjoy what you are doing, Etán?”
“I wouldn’t want to do anything else,” he said honestly. “It means the world to me.”
“Your grandfather was a little bit disappointed when I told him I was going to medical school. He was an excellent winemaker. Then he told me not to worry, that making wine runs in every second generation. He was right. I am proud of what you’ve achieved.”
“Are you trying to tell me something, Dad?”
“It’s the land reform bill. We’ve protested it from every possible angle, but there is too much pressure on the country from global anti-discrimination organizations. They’re threatening the country with sanctions.” He shook his head. “The votes are being cast on Monday. My advisors think the Constitutional Forum members are going to vote it in.”
Etán stopped dead. “What do you believe?”
“I believe they’re right. Everything points in that direction.”
Etán felt his heart stopping. “How long?”
“Once the law is passed, it will go quickly, son. The Buenos Sueños vineyard in Argentina has been divided and reallocated in under a month.”
Etán wiped a hand over his face. “Are you sure of the claim on our land?”
“There’s no mistaking. The reallocation proposal has already been drafted.”
“Is the government so sure of itself? That the vote will be passed?”
“I’m afraid they are. Because of my personal involvement, I have been excluded from the voting. They have selected someone else in my place to represent me. Someone who is not sympathetic to our cause.”
“Dear God.” Etán pinched the bridge of his nose. “We have to find a way out of this, Dad. This land has been in our family for centuries.”
“I know, son. I know. I’ve never wanted anything less for you.” He patted his son on the back. He continued to stare into the distance for a while, and then he turned to Etán.
“I see you made an interesting announcement. You’re going to send your best ever, a new Merlot, to the Berlin Tasting. Jorge told me you refused to reveal the name. What’s all this secrecy about? You’ve never held anything from the family or your team before.”
“This is my best one, ever, Dad. I’m going to send it into the world with a grand song, with all the hype it deserves.” He looked at the land surrounding them. “If, and God forbid, we lose this all, at least I will have that. There won’t be a better one after this. This will be the ultimate achievement of my career.”
Pedro followed his gaze. “God forbid,” he repeated somberly.
Etán looked at his father. “I will not be a winemaker for anyone else, Dad. If we lose this, it’s over.”
Pedro shook his head sadly. “I know that too, son.”
When Etán finally walked back to the house Friday afternoon, he was just in time to see Luca gently wiping Zenna’s brow with a wet cloth. She lay on the sofa in the study, asleep, and shivers ran over her body. He rushed to their side.
“Is she all right?” he asked Luca in a whisper.
Luca nodded, his face strained. “A rough session.”
Etán looked around. “Where’s Mom and Margarita?”
“Mom and Dad are having a drink outside. Margarita went to lie down. She was exhausted after ... you know...”
Etán looked at Zenna’s pale face. “How long is this necessary?”
“Margarita said as long as it takes.”
Etán sighed. “Do you want me to help you take her to her room?”
Luca shook his head. “No, she didn’t want to go there. Said she wanted to stay here. Said the visions attacked her more there now. Margarita said it’s normal.”
Etán felt a pang of guilt eating into his conscience. “Maybe I shouldn’t have given her Catalina’s room.”
“Is there something you’re not telling me, Etán?”
“Zenna said she had visions of Catalina in the room. It came to her in her dreams, and it bothered her.”
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me? Why didn’t you move her?”
“I wanted her close to me. I had a feeling she was going to be in danger.”
“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Luca said tightly. “I’m moving her into my flat soon.”
Etán tensed. “You are doing what?”
“As soon as this ordeal is over, as soon as she has control over her mind, and we can do away with all the protection and the guards, I’m taking her home with me.”
“What does she think about that?”
“I haven’t told her yet, but she will agree.”
“What makes you so sure?”
“I want her to start her university course in September, the one she had enrolled for, when this is all over. I’m going to help her to start her own travel agency. I want to give her the life she deserves, man.”
“Her court case is coming up in less than a month. How can you be so sure she’s not going to want to go back to England when she’s no longer required to stay in the country?”
“Because I’m going to marry her.”
Etán felt the blood drain from his face. “You are going to what?”
“I said I would take care of her. That’s what she wants most. That’s what Marcos didn’t give her. We’ll make a hell of a team. An empath and a seer.”
“Don’t do something crazy, Luca.”
“Unlike you, I do believe she’s worth it.”
“You are doing this out of a sense of duty. You don’t have to feel obliged to marry her.”
“Maybe, but she deserves at least this much. I’ll be good to her. It’s not like there’s anyone else for me, is there? The woman I wanted didn’t want me. The man Zenna wanted didn’t want her. What’s there left to lose? Who else do you trust to make her happy?”
Etán didn’t answer.
Luca got to his feet. “Aren’t you going to congratulate me?” he said bitterly. His disappointment in Etán radiated from him.
Etán looked away. “Not until she says yes.”
After dinner Etán drank a whiskey in the darkness of the veranda. He had been quiet and preoccupied throughout the meal despite the light, jovial company that surrounded him. His thoughts had wandered to the land claim, to Zenna, and Luca. He hadn’t been there for her. Luca had. She was like a rose, blooming, glowing, growing. She was suffering, but growing stronger at the same time. He felt like a failure, despite the fact Zenna was safe. He felt she had been changing and growing right under his nose, and he had missed out on it all.
“You’ve been nursing that drink for a while now,” Zenna said behind him.
He didn’t turn to face her. “I didn’t hear you coming.”
“Payback time for all the times you sneak up on me.”
“I don’t sneak up on you.”
She sat down on the sofa next to him. “Too much work?”
“Something like that,” he said, drinking down the liquor in his glass.
“You worry too much.”
He smiled wryly. “It’s my job to worry.”
She seemed unsure of her words. She rubbed her legs. “Etán, I want to tell you something...”
“What is it, Zenna?”
“It’s about the visions.”
“I’m sorry it’s been so tough on you.”
“It’s all right. I’m glad I’m finally facing it. I’ve been running from it for as long as I can remember.”
“Still, if there is anything I can do...”
“Thanks. I’ll keep that in mind. Actually, there is something I need to say to you.”
“Talk to me.”
“You know the vision I had in my ... in Catalina’s room?”
“It’s your room, now, Zenna,” he corrected gently.
“All right. My room. The one about her?”
“Yes?”
“I’ve had that one twice now during my last two sessions with Margarita.”
“Really?” The realization he hadn’t been there for her last few sessions tortured him anew.
“Yes, but during these sessions, the visions are more detailed. Sometimes it feels like they last for hours, telling me whole chapters of stories when it’s only minutes.”
“Oh, Zenna, it must be hard,” he said compassionately.
She ignored his gentle tone. “Twice now, I’ve seen the vision more complete. It was more than just the flash I had of your sister standing in the bathroom. During the last session, there were some very strong feelings coming through. I’m learning with Margarita how to sift through the information, how to distinguish between the facts and the emotions, and how to place those emotions. At first, it was very hard. I’m pretty sure now what Catalina was trying to tell me was meant for you.”
Etán’s hands stilled. “What are you saying?”
“In the vision, she was speaking to me.” Zenna looked at her hands. “She told me it wasn’t your fault and you have to let go, you have to be happy.”
Etán’s hand that gripped the glass trembled.
“I wouldn’t have said anything if I wasn’t sure, Etán. Margarita felt it, too. I think she tried to tell you to stop blaming yourself. She wants you to be free from the chains of your guilt. I came to tell you because I thought you would feel better knowing.”
Etán had been exposed to the strangeness of his family and his mother’s talent all of his life. He had even learned to live and cope with his brother’s empathic abilities, always exploring his feelings. He hadn’t been prepared for this. He lowered his head into his hands.
Zenna reached out to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
He lifted his head. “No, don’t be. Thank you.”
She observed him closely. “You still look like the world is resting on your shoulders.”
He turned his head toward her. How could he tell her they could lose everything his family had ever worked for, everything he loved, in less than a month? How could he tell her seeing her so happy with Luca was killing him? How could he tell her he wanted her more than anything in the world, but he knew he was a man who didn’t make women happy? He didn’t dare risk making her unhappy. It would kill him. How could he tell her he worried about her safety night and day? That her pain snaked through him every time she worked her sessions? That he couldn’t stop thinking about her? Finally, he managed a tight smile.
She leaned forward and wrapped her arms around him, hugging him tight. “It’s all right, Etán,” she said softly. “It’s all right to let go. You don’t always have to be in control.”
He turned his head an inch, and breathed in the sweet scent of her hair and her skin. She was like a drug to him. He needed her more than water. He desired her more than the land he was trying to fight for. He cared way too much about her to submit her to his faulty self. He had learned the hard way, he wasn’t an easy man to live with. She was better off with Luca. Luca would take care of her.
He gently removed her arms from his shoulders and freed himself from her embrace. He tried to smile bravely, wished her good night, and fought not to turn back for her as he made his way to his suite.
Working like an ox didn’t help Zenna one bit to take her mind off her biggest distraction. She sat at the kitchen counter, facing the fragrant curry dish she had taken from the oven, waiting for the big helping on her plate to cool, contemplating the subject the food was meant to erase. She did everything that was expected of her in the office and more. She worked extra hard with Margarita. She even helped Teresa in the house and the kitchen. Yet, her eyes and her mind always wandered back to Etán.
Between them, Luca and she were building a deep friendship. She was grateful for his attentiveness. He had even mentioned to her his plan to move her to his flat in the city once she was out of danger. If her feelings for Etán weren’t so strong, she wouldn’t have considered it. Maybe some distance was exactly what she needed to get him out of her mind. Her frustration building, she had finally escaped to the kitchen and cooked one of her father’s favorite curry recipes. Hot, spicy food was what she needed to cure her erratic thoughts.
Etán stopped in the door of the kitchen, inhaling. “Beef. Raisins. Curry. Coconut. Peaches. Banana. Turmeric. Ginger. Apricot. Brown sugar. Coriander.”
The fusion of flavors was an insult to his logic, a confusion, whereas the aromas suffusing from the vapors that reached his flared nostrils were tantalizing, a seduction. As was the woman in front of him.
She looked up and gave him a wary smile. The man himself. The one she was running from. “You’re good.” She couldn’t help looking at him in awe. He never ceased to amaze her.
“Thank you, but what you have thrown together there does so not work logically, yet, my mouth is literally watering.”
“You’ll take back every word once you’ve tasted it.” Resignedly she motioned to the chair opposite her. “Get a plate.”
He did as he was told, pushing a plate toward her as he sat down. She dished up a generous helping. She sighed, and dug her fork into her food.
“Comfort food?” he asked teasingly.
“If only you knew,” she mumbled.
“Try me. Talk to me.”
Only her eyes lifted. “Rather not. I think it’s wiser to eat,” she said, taking a bite. She took another bite, and another one.
Etán watched her, mesmerized. He had forgotten how good it was to eat with her. She obviously enjoyed her food so much. He could watch her forever. He realized it had been a while since he had eaten with the family. He was always locked up in his office or in his suite eating from trays.
He watched the woman in front of him lick her lips, and wanted to taste the food on those moist curves rather than eating it from a plate. He wanted to drink his wine from her tongue, taste her skin like he did that night in the shady bar, that early evening in the cellar. He could get drunk on the taste of her mouth alone.
He watched her eat, his thoughts unguarded. It was supposed to shock him, but it didn’t. Not anymore. Maybe he had been too long without a woman. He never considered himself dependent on women. Yet this one was his weakness. There was something about her that made him feel animalistic. It excited him and made him loathe himself at the same time. He forced his feelings to the back of his mind, returning to the food in front of him. He almost faltered when she stuck a long, delicate finger in her mouth, licking the spicy juices from it.
Desperately turning his focus away from the sensual act, he dipped his fork into the beef dish topped with a layer of baked egg-milk. He brought the fork to his mouth and tasted. He stilled. It was indescribable. He had never tasted anything so wickedly tantalizing in all of his life. Taking another bite, he marveled at how the flavor caused a whirlwind of pleasure through his senses. He understood why Zenna called it comfort food. He noticed it was her turn to watch him, a smile on her face.
“One of your father’s recipes?”
“Yes. This is a typical Malaysian dish. He taught my mother, and to this day she still cooks like this.” She shrugged, looking disconnected, but he could sense the pain in her voice. “I guess it makes her somehow feel a part of him is still there.”
“I’m sorry. Why do you speak of your father in the past tense?”
She shrugged again. “For me, he is past tense.” A little silence followed. “He ceased to exist for me when he decided to leave us.”
“Is that why you always go for the bad guys, Zenna?”
“Who says I do?”
“It’s obvious.”
She got up to scrape the rest of her food into the garbage bin. “You’re a grape crusher, not a psychologist. Stick to your trade, winemaker.”
He caught her by the wrist as she brushed past him. She stopped, surprised. He took the plate and the fork from her, his eyes not leaving hers, and put it on the counter. His free hand went to the corner of her mouth, wiping over the soft, warm flesh. He wasn’t going to touch her. He had promised himself, but that was before he felt her body’s reaction to his touch, before he saw the look in her eyes. He saw her heartbeat under her blouse increase. God knows, he tried, but he couldn’t stop himself from pulling her down into his lap. He couldn’t stop his lips from finding hers, his tongue flicking out to taste her skin.
“God, I could eat every inch of you,” he spoke hoarsely into their kiss.
Her eyes fluttered closed, and her lips had a demanding nature all of their own. If she had to step back and watch herself, she would have been ashamed of the urgency with which she kissed him. His hands went down to her waist, searched for the opening under the loose blouse, stroking up her back. His palms were hot against her bare skin. If he didn’t stop, she was going to have a stroke. His lips left hers to smooth over her cheeks, planting kisses on her eyes, her nose, and her ears. She heard him groaning softly, nibbling at the lobe of her ear.
“Are you happy, Zenna?” he whispered against her ear, hot strokes of air stealing her breath away. When she didn’t answer, he pulled back, lifting her chin with his fingers, forcing her to open her eyes.
“Are you happy?” he repeated the question.
She was taken aback. Reason came back to her senses. “As happy as I can be,” she said, pulling back from him and getting to her feet.
He looked pained. “Then it’s better to leave it like that.”
“What is it with us, Etán?”
“I don’t know, Zenna. I was hoping you could tell me.” He suddenly looked very tired. “You have bewitched me, my body, and all of my senses.”
“But not your heart?”
“Have you forgotten? I don’t have a heart.”
“That’s not enough.”
“If I told you I’ve never wanted any woman as much as I want you, not even Sanita, would it make a difference?”
“No. I don’t believe you because you’re going to walk away from me again, leave me cold. I won’t let that happen, ever again.”
“Yes, sweet Zenobia. This time, you are going to walk away from me.” He spoke his deepest fear. “Go. Walk away. Before neither of us can.”
She looked at him with uncertainty, searching his face, but he turned away from her.
She got up, biting back the tears. “Clear up for me, will you?” She did walk away, her heart heavier than ever.
Could Zenna truly be happy with Luca? He couldn’t stand the thought, and, yet, if he couldn’t give her what she wanted, how could he deny her finding it in someone else’s arms? The thought was almost too painful. Maybe, if he tried a little bit harder, to give her what she needed...
Only when she was out of sight, did Etán turn and look longingly at the space where she had lingered a second before she had walked through the door. Only her scent remained.