Judy Duarte: Triplets Found: The Virgin's Makeover / Take a Chance on Me / And Then There Were Three

While Lissa described each guest and gave Sullivan a rundown of their holdings and achievements in the industry, they finished their coffee. Then, leaving the puppy to snooze on its bed, they set out to see every nook and cranny of the vineyard.

The air was fresh and clean from a rain they’d had a couple days before, and as they strolled through the parklike grounds, Sullivan was amazed at the beauty of the place. Besides row upon row of grapes that grew on the rolling hillsides, the lush property displayed a stone-lined fishpond that hosted several mallards and two black swans.

The manicured lawns nearly begged for people to sit and relish the peaceful sight.

“Why haven’t you opened up Valencia Vineyards for visitors and tastings?” he asked. “The grounds are beautiful, and I think you could really draw in a fair number of tourists each month.”

“We’ve thought about it,” Lissa said. “But we’ve always preferred our privacy.”

“You called me in for advice,” he reminded her.

“And my father and I intend to consider everything you suggest.” She led him into the new winery that had replaced the older facility they’d used in the past.

“The construction of this building was a major expense,” she explained. “And some hidden costs depleted our funds more than we’re comfortable with. That’s the primary reason we brought you in as a marketing consultant.”

“Then you’re in luck. I’m always glad to offer my services.”

She bit her bottom lip and looked at him out of the corner of her eye. She wore an interesting expression.

One that seemed to ask how far he’d go to offer his services.

After they’d explored the new winery, Sullivan said, “You’ve done a wonderful job creating a modern and efficient operation.”

Lissa thought so, too. “Thank you.”

“And if you decide to open the vineyard and winery for tours, word will quickly spread.”

“You’re probably right.” She’d have to discuss it with her father. After all, he was the one who valued his privacy.

“So, where’s that killer new blend I’ve been hearing about?” Sullivan asked. “Do I have to wait for that dinner party tomorrow night?”

“No. I can let you have a taste now.”

“Great.” He flashed her a smile that made her heart skip a beat, which was surprising, since she’d grown a lot more comfortable with the man over the past few hours.

Lissa led him to the tasting room, then took two glasses from the stash they kept in a solid oak cabinet. The walls were lined with wine bottles tucked into crisscrossed shelves. But her special blend remained in an oak barrel that appeared to be only a decoration. She pulled the tap, filled both glasses and offered one to Sullivan.

Before taking a drink, he clinked his goblet against hers and offered a toast. “To the special lady who made this wine.”

Lissa appreciated his thoughtful gesture, but didn’t take a sip. Instead, she watched for Sullivan’s reaction, studying the good-looking man over the rim of her glass.

She guessed he was a bit of a playboy. But how could he not be, with those sexy eyes and that flirty smile?

Sullivan Grayson was too darn attractive for his own good. Or rather, for her own good.

Yet he also had a wealth of sexual experience and could make a woman’s first time special. At least, she suspected he would.

If Lissa had any courage at all, she’d suggest a brief affair. After all, who would get hurt? Not her. She had no illusions about falling in love.

And he certainly wouldn’t get hurt, since he’d probably never given a thought to settling down. Besides, once his job with Valencia Vineyards was finished, he’d be on his way. And that reason, on top of her fierce attraction, made him a perfect first-time lover—if she were inclined to act out the silly fantasy.

For Pete’s sake. What if he wasn’t the least bit interested in being her one-time lover? And if he were, her attempts to please him would be clumsy at best. Either way, she’d be embarrassed. Humiliated.

Mortified.

Fortunately, she was too shy to even suggest it.

Sullivan closed his eyes and appeared to be savoring the taste of the wine.

She held her breath, waiting for him to comment.

When his gaze locked on hers, his expression grew serious. “Lissa, this is incredible. I’m no expert, by any means, but I know what I like.”

She blew out the breath she’d been holding. “Really?”

“It’s great.” His eyes verified his sincerity. “With the fresh, unique taste we’ll need a name, something that will reflect the newness, as well as the appeal.”

“I agree.” Both she and her dad hoped that the wine would increase sales—with the right marketing strategy. “Any ideas?”

He thought for a while, then broke into a lazy grin. “There’s one word we need to use in the name.”

“What’s that?” She took a sip from her glass.

“Virgin.”

Virgin? Lissa choked, sputtered and coughed.

“Are you okay?”

She cleared her throat. “I’m fine. I guess it just went down the wrong pipe.”

The explanation seemed to appease him, although she really hadn’t swallowed wrong. His comment had surprised her. Heck, the way Sullivan said virgin made it seem as though he thought virginity held some kind of merit, some value.

If that were the case, maybe her inexperience wouldn’t scare him away.

The idea of losing her innocence to Sullivan made her imagination soar. Of course, he’d probably be shocked if she suggested it—assuming she had the nerve to broach the subject. After all, she’d never been suggestive or forward—sexually speaking.

Besides, Sullivan had his share of beautiful women. What would make him settle for a nobody like her?

She could, of course, dream. Couldn’t she?

Lissa had become good at fantasizing. Which certainly helped, because the thought of going to her deathbed as a virgin was downright depressing, if she dwelled upon it.

“Virgin Mist,” he said. “Now, that’s a name that would appeal to the masses. It promises something new and fresh. What do you think?”

Before she could tell him it worked for her, the big, oval-topped door opened, and her father walked into the tasting room.

“How’d you like the tour?” he asked Sullivan.

“It was great. Enlightening. And the tour director really knows her stuff.” Sullivan shot Lissa a smile that nearly wobbled her knees.

“Well, she ought to. Lissa loves the vineyard.” Ken slid an arm around her shoulder and gave her a squeeze. “In fact, she’s the daughter who takes after me.”

Sullivan chuckled, and Lissa smiled.

It was nice when her father said things like that, when he seemed to forget that she was adopted.

But they both knew there was another man out there—somewhere. A faceless man who could actually lay claim to her genetic makeup.

In his Portland law office, Jared studied a legal brief, yet his mind wasn’t on his work.

He was still reeling over the fact that the clock was ticking. That he still didn’t know anything about Olivia Maddison or her child. That the PI he’d hired had been due to check in ten minutes ago.

Just as he glanced at his gold wristwatch, a beep sounded over the intercom system.

“Mr. Cambry?” his secretary asked.

“Yes.”

“Mr. Hastings with Investigative Specialties is here to see you.”

“Send him in.” Jared was eager to know what the investigator had learned, whether he’d found Olivia yet.

Moments later, Sam Hastings entered. He was a big man with a full head of blond hair and prominent brows that shaded pensive eyes.

Jared stood and reached across the table to shake hands. “Any news?”