Laura Wright - The Ashtons - Paige, Grant & Trace - The Highest Bidder / Savour the Seduction / Name Your Price

And when Caroline Sheppard had entered the room a little while later, the ambiance had taken yet another change. Paige felt her back go ramrod straight and her jaw clench as she stood to greet her father’s former wife.

Would Caroline be icy, neutral or warm? Within minutes Paige knew. With a twinge of envy and admiration, she realized that Caroline Lattimer Ashton Sheppard was the real deal.

From the moment she’d arrived, holding the hand of a pigtailed, brown-eyed imp named Rachel who did little more than gaze at Jillian with unadulterated adoration, Caroline made them welcome.

With just her occasional touch, her easy smile, her obvious contentment with her life, Caroline managed to convey that she had no regrets for how her life had turned out. And, even more, their conversation led Paige to believe that she didn’t blame anyone but Spencer for the trauma and drama inflicted on both families.

They enjoyed a leisurely and delicious lunch, served on the lanai that overlooked the rustic carriage house and stables and the gently sloping acres of some of the most sensational Pinot Noir, Merlot, Cab and Petite Verdot grapes in Napa Valley.

Of course, they tasted some of those wines with lunch, and Jillian impressed them all with her in-depth knowledge and insights. They spoke the language of vintner families: harvests, bouquets, vintages and trends, the issues facing the family having been covered with Jillian and Caroline in the living room.

And just to confuse her further, Matt was the ideal guest—entertaining, interested and remarkably adept at positioning himself at her side exactly as a friend, not a boyfriend, would.

When Grant Ashton arrived, the atmosphere of the little gathering suddenly changed again and Paige knew that family business was about to go on the lunch menu.

After a round of introductions and greetings, the large and rugged man pulled out the chair closest to Anna and locked a blue-eyed gaze on Paige. “Do Cole and Eli know you’re here?”

Jillian answered first. “They’re too busy to come over.”

That could be true, Paige told herself. Although much of the harvest had been completed by the end of September, many of the red grapes grown here would ripen this month. They could be busy in the winery. Or unwilling to break bread with the enemy.

“I was just over there,” Grant said, tossing a look over his shoulder in the direction of the winery. “Not too much going on right now.”

“Whatever their reason,” Paige said, holding his direct gaze, “I’m grateful to be so welcome here.”

Grant nodded slowly before turning to Anna, when the lines around his eyes crinkled in a warm smile. “Where’s Jack?”

“I just put him down for a nap in the guest room,” she told him, her return look just as fond. “But it required a promise that you’d wake him up the minute you got home.”

Home? Did Grant Ashton, the down-to-earth farmer from Nebraska who’d stormed into California demanding to know his real father, consider Louret Vineyards home? Did Anna?

They weren’t living at the house but staying in the cottage and carriage house on the property. Yet they did seem rather settled.

“I’ll get him when he calls,” Grant promised, shaking his head to decline an offer of wine that Jillian made. Again he directed his attention to Paige. “Any news on the investigation?”

No tiptoeing for this big man.

“Nothing concrete,” she said. “The detectives are trying to trail some evidence of blackmail.”

He snorted a little and threw a glance at Anna. “Probably a lot of opportunity for that in the old man’s past.”

Paige swallowed as an uncomfortable silence fell over the lanai. “Yes,” she finally said, looking down at her lap. “I’m sure there is.”

“Hey,” Grant’s voice pulled her gaze back up to his. “Whatever he was, it sure isn’t something his kids need to take the blame for.”

For a moment she couldn’t speak. Here was yet another half brother touching her heart. For one wild, insane moment, Paige wondered what it could be like if all these families—all these smart, talented, ambitious and dynamic offspring of one man—could actually live in some semblance of peace.

Was that too much to ask?

Paige gave him a smile of genuine warmth. “I appreciate that, Grant.”

With a barely noticeable sigh, Caroline stood and excused herself, and suddenly the impromptu lunch party came to an end. As Paige pushed her chair back, she reached down to pick up her handbag and happened to take a quick glance under the table.

In that flash of a second, she could have sworn she saw Anna’s tiny hand enclosed in the much bigger one of Grant Ashton.

“I don’t want to go home.”

Matt gave Paige a questioning look as he pulled onto the main road and exited The Vines. “Okay. Where do you want to go?”

Your house. Your arms. Your bed. “I just don’t feel like facing my family. They’ll expect a full accounting on the day.”

That was the truth. She didn’t really want to go to his house—oh, yes she did—but the thought of returning to the estate to be interrogated by her mother and Trace was utterly unappealing. And no doubt Megan would want a postmortem.

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