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This time when they got into the Range Rover, Matt drove directly to the PEARSON ESTATE vineyard and winery. Pippa looked out of the window in admiration as they entered a beautiful property, bound on one side by a stream and on the other by a tall grove of olive trees. A colonial-style building sat in the centre, with 360-degree views of the surrounding hills and groves.
“This is the Cellar Door,” said Matt as they drove up to the building. “You can taste all the different wines that the vineyard produces here.”
“How big is it?” asked Pippa, looking around as they got out of the car.
“About sixteen acres of working vineyard,” said Matt. “Planted mostly in Semillon, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Sauvignon. But we’re also a completely self-contained winery which manages all the aspects of wine-making, from growing and harvesting the grapes to creating our own range of boutique wines and varietals.”
Pippa followed Matt into the Tasting Room and was greeted by a kindly man called Ned who looked like Ruskin’s twin brother. He led them across the room, past large windows offering sweeping views across the Valley, and up to the bar counter, where several bottles of wine were lined up in a row. For the next half an hour, Pippa enjoyed playing the tourist and listening to Ned as he told her the history of the Valley and guided her in tasting the different wines.
“Now, Semillon is what put the Hunter Valley on the world map,” said Ned as he poured a small measure of wine into a sparkling glass. “In fact, nobody else can replicate the style of Semillon we make here—it’s Australia’s unique white wine, based on our climate and soils. It has a wonderfully crisp, citrus aroma when it is young—and then develops complex vanilla and honey flavours as it ages, giving it depth and richness. Here, try this...” He pushed the glass of white wine across to her. “This is from last year’s Semillon harvest so it’s still young, but the fruit ripeness and acidity gives it a flavoursome finish. What do you think?”
Pippa sipped it. He was right. She didn’t normally like dry white wines but this one was crisp and refreshing without being sharp on the tongue. She swallowed and smiled. “It’s lovely—especially after that huge lunch I just had!”
Ned took her through a few more wines, from a Shiraz that was “medium bodied with soft tannins” to a golden Chardonnay that was “rich in the aromas of peach and nectarine”, with what Ned called a finish that was “tight, long, and clean”, and last but not least, a sweet Moscato dessert wine that was Pippa’s favourite. It tasted wonderfully of caramel, dates, and raisins, and even hints of citrus peel—almost like a liquid Christmas pudding.
Pippa didn’t really understand half of what Ned said as he talked enthusiastically about the “finish” and “palate” and “nose” and “body” of the wines but she enjoyed just listening to him and tasting each one, trying to see if her own nose could detect the fragrances and flavours he suggested.
Matt leaned on the counter next to them with a smile in his warm brown eyes, occasionally adding a comment, but mostly just watching as Pippa tasted the wines and Ned talked. Finally, when Ned seemed to be ready to launch into a detailed account of the history of Australian wine-making, he stepped in and rescued Pippa.
“I’m afraid we’d better be making tracks,” he said, as he put a gentle hand under Pippa’s elbow. “I think a certain kitten might be giving me a loud mouthful if I don’t get you back home soon.”
“Oh gosh, Sparky! I’d forgotten all about her,” said Pippa guiltily. She knew that cats were very independent but she had left the little tabby alone for several hours now and it was definitely time to get back.
After thanking Ned and promising to return for more tastings, Pippa was given a lightning-tour of the rest of the winery buildings.
“I’m sorry there isn’t really time to take you around the estate and see the vineyard properly,” said Matt as they stood on the side veranda, looking out across the property. “The horse-riding took up more of the day than I expected.”
“And my six-course lunch,” said Pippa with a laugh.
Matt grinned. “You said it, not me.” He stepped closer. “But we can always see it next time.”
Next time? Will there be a next time? Pippa stared up into his dark brown eyes, wishing she could read his expression better. He reached out and brushed a strand of hair back from her temple again, the tender gesture bringing a shiver of goosebumps across Pippa’s skin. She felt his fingers trail down the side of her jaw, until they reached her chin where they gently tipped her face up.
“So beautiful...” he murmured, his gaze roving over her face and lowering to her mouth.
Then Matt bent his head and Pippa closed her eyes. His lips were soft and warm, coaxing her to kiss him back. She sighed and slid her arms up around his neck, letting him pull her close, feeling his warm, hard body press against hers. He smelled of earth and horses and the honeyed scent of grape vines, mingled with a clean, masculine scent. She felt the muscles of his shoulders bunch beneath her hands as he shifted position, moulding her closer to his body and tilting his head to deepen the kiss.
The taste of his lips was more intoxicating than all the wines she had drunk, filling her senses and sending her emotions spinning out of control. Somewhere at the back of her mind, Pippa could hear a voice—a voice that warned she was falling too hard, too fast—but she barely listened to it. All she could think about was Matt and this kiss which she never wanted to end.
It was the sound of thunder that finally broke them apart. Just a faint rumble in the distance but distinct and unmistakable.
“Looks like we’re in for more rain again,” said Matt as he released her. “We’d better head back.”
Pippa followed him quietly to the Range Rover and they drove back in a comfortable silence. By the time they pulled up outside her house, it was raining again.
“We were really lucky the rain held off all day,” said Matt.
“Yes, it was a perfect day,” said Pippa with a small sigh.
He looked at her and seemed about to say something, then changed his mind.
“Thank you—I had a really wonderful time,” said Pippa. She hesitated, then leaned quickly across and kissed him on the cheek before opening the car door and running through the rain to her front door.
She was greeted with an indignant “Mew!” as soon as she entered the house. Sparky trotted up and wound herself in and out of Pippa’s legs, loudly demanding to know where she had been all day. Pippa laughed and scooped the little kitten up, cuddling her close to her face. Instantly, she could hear Sparky start to purr, rumbling away like a little engine. Going into the kitchen, she checked the kitten’s food and water bowls, groaning as she stooped and squatted—her muscles were really starting to seize up now.
A hot bath—that’s what I need, Pippa thought. She poured herself a long, cold glass of water and took it to the bathroom. With Sparky sitting on the edge of the sink and watching curiously, she undressed and turned on the taps in the bathtub. While the bath was filling, she washed her hands thoroughly, then used make-up remover to cleanse all traces of make-up, grime, and sunscreen from her face.
She remembered looking in the same mirror that morning—how long ago that seemed now!—and how flushed her cheeks had been. They were red again now, although this time it was probably more from a day of being out in the sunshine. She was glad now that she had applied so much sunscreen—after living in the U.K. for so long, it was easy to forget just how lethal the sun was Down Under. Even with the sunscreen, the tan had intensified on her arms and shoulder and she could see pale strap marks from her top.
Pippa turned off the taps in the bathtub, added a couple of drops of baby oil, and then carefully dipped one toe into the water. It was hot but not scalding. Slowly, she eased her body into the warm water, immersing herself up to her chin.
Ooooohhhh...
The heat from the water seeped into her aching muscles, soothing them and easing them as she relaxed against the side of the tub, resting her head on the edge. She closed her eyes and breathed in the steam, her thoughts drifting back to the day... and that kiss...
Pippa sighed. It was too late. She could deny it as much as she liked, but it didn’t change the truth. She was falling in love with Matt. But did he return her feelings? Pippa stirred uneasily in the water, splashing some drops onto her face. She frowned as Charlie’s words came back to her. What if Matt was just having a bit of fun? What if this really was just a rebound fling for him?
