His Summer Bride: Becoming Dr Bellini's Bride / Summer Seaside Wedding / Wedding in Darling Downs. Abigail Gordon
walked along a path leading from the house towards a collection of buildings some five hundred yards away. Nick pointed out a large stone-built complex where the grapes were processed, and then indicated another outbuilding where the offices and labs were housed. ‘I’ll show you around there later on,’ he said, moving on.
She nodded. ‘I know next to nothing about wine-making, I’m afraid.’
‘You’re not alone in that,’ he murmured. He paused by a heavy wooden door set into a stone arch. ‘Through here is the entrance to the cellar,’ he told her. ‘It has walls that are some fifteen inches thick, and it’s a cool, well-ventilated environment, essential for producing good wine.’
The wine-tasting room was in a building set a little apart from these processing areas. The outer walls were painted in a soft sunshine yellow, and there were tubs of flowers and hanging baskets facing out on to the courtyard, giving it a mellow, cottage-style appearance.
‘This is so pretty,’ Katie said, glancing at the winery and looking back at the chateau in the distance. ‘Your father must be really pleased to live in such an idyllic place.’
‘I’m sure he is. I know I loved it. I was brought up here, and it was a wonderful childhood.’ He looked around. ‘It might be a good idea to sample the wines out here. Perhaps a table in the shade would be best.’ He indicated a table in a far corner that was bordered by diamond-patterned trellises on two sides.
‘Come and make yourself comfortable,’ he said, holding out a seat for her, ‘while I go and fetch the wines.’
He returned a moment later, bearing a tray. ‘We’ll try a Burgundy-style Pinot Noir first of all. It’s our pride and joy, the best vintage yet. See what you think of it. It’s made from black grapes that grow on the cooler slopes.’
Once she was settled, he handed her a glass filled with dark red wine, and she took a sip. It was rich and smooth, with a hint of spice and an aftertaste of black cherry plum. Katie savoured it, letting it roll over her tongue before she swallowed it. ‘I can see why you’re excited about this,’ she said. ‘I’m not a wine buff, but I do know what I like, and this is delicious.’
Nick said quietly, ‘Joseph Bellini would have been proud.’ He turned to Katie. ‘This is what his hard work was all about, and nowadays we do our level best to live up to his vision. As well as this special wine, we produce our own Cabernet Sauvignon. It’s stored in barrels made of French oak and allowed to mature over many years. The oak helps to smooth out the harsh tannins and introduces softer, wood tannins.’
Katie nodded and tasted the wine once more. ‘Don’t you have a problem if my father’s vineyard produces similar wines? Doesn’t that put you in direct competition with one another?’
He shook his head. ‘Your father concentrates on Chardonnay. He had a really good season last year, and the result should be a superb wine.’ He picked out another bottle. ‘This is one of his Chardonnays,’ he said, pouring white wine into a glass and handing it to her. ‘Try it. I think you’ll like it. It’s full of fruit flavours—like pear, apple and melon.’
Katie sipped the wine and tried to forget for the moment that Nick and his family were doing their level best to pull her father’s business out from under his feet. How could she be drawn to a man who would do that? He was the enemy and yet she was calmly sipping wine with him and enjoying the comfort of his home. She felt like a traitor.
She would simply have to be on her guard and watch out for Jack’s interests whenever possible, she decided. Maybe she would carry out her threat and get in touch with the law firm that dealt with his business affairs. The Garcias were in the phone book, and a straightforward call might do the trick. They could advise her what to do and monitor her father’s dealings at the same time.
‘Mmm.’ She nodded. ‘This is lovely.’ She raised her glass to him and then looked at the tray of wines. ‘I see you have at least a dozen bottles on the trolley,’ she said quietly. ‘At this rate I shall be tipsy before dinner.’
Nick smiled and answered under his breath, ‘I think I’d quite like to see that.’ Then he pulled a wry face. ‘I do have a secret stash of crackers and cheese hidden away, designed to soak up the alcohol, once we’ve had a taster. It’s a pity that we have to eat them,’ he added, his voice low and husky. ‘With your senses blurred, I might have been able to persuade you that I’m everything you ever wanted in a man.’ His expression was mournful, and Katie stifled a laugh.
‘Give it up,’ she murmured. ‘I wouldn’t want your hopes to be dashed.’
They tasted several more wines, including the Merlot, which her father seemed to favour most of all. It was another red wine, rich and fruity with notes of currant and cherry.
Katie was glad of the savoury biscuits and the cheese platter that Nick brought out a short time later. She had missed lunch and she was beginning to feel more than a little heady. Alongside the various cheeses, there were pizza slices and bruschetta— slices of toasted bread topped with prosciutto and tomato. He had provided a selection of nuts, too, served with slices of dried apricot.
‘This has been such a great experience,’ she told him. ‘I’ve never been to a wine tasting before, and to be here surrounded by greenery and row on row of vineyard slopes has been wonderful.’
‘I’m glad you’ve enjoyed it,’ he said, giving her an appreciative smile. ‘Perhaps we should go along and have a look at the processing complex, before the wine goes right to your head. You’re looking a trifle flushed, and it might help if you were to stretch your legs for a bit.’
‘Okay.’
He helped her to her feet, and they strolled slowly over to the stone-built production plant. Nick explained some of the processes involved—the pressing of the grapes, the addition of yeast and the many checks that were done to test each stage of the fermentation process. In each separate room there were photos and clear text descriptions on the walls to enable visitors to understand what went on there. There were photos, too, of Joseph Bellini, his son Sebastian, Nick’s grandfather, Thomas, and finally Robert and his two sons. Katie stared at them in wonder. They all had the same rugged good looks, the strong bone structure, and that dark, Italian machismo.
‘I had no idea such a lot of effort went into producing a bottle of wine,’ she told Nick a while later as they stood by the window in the scrupulously clean barn where the grapes were poured into a giant hopper. The building’s double doors were open to allow a cooling drift of air into the room. ‘It must be tremendously satisfying to overcome all the hazards of production and finally taste the result—and discover that it’s perfection.’
‘It is. Wine-making is in our blood. It has become a part of us, much as the hills and valleys all around have become our home. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else than this small corner of the world.’ He gave a crooked smile. ‘My brother chose to travel, to go from place to place marketing our wines, but that wouldn’t do for me. My roots are here. I love this valley and my beach house. I’m very content.’
‘I imagine you are.’ She gazed out of the window at the surrounding hills and then looked back at him. ‘You must be very proud of your ancestors…all the dedication, strength of mind and sheer stamina that has gone into making the business what it is now. No wonder you’re such a fit-looking family—what I’ve seen of it so far. It must be in the genes.’
He leaned against a guard rail, turning to face her full on, his dark eyes glinting. ‘Fit is good, isn’t it?’ He slightly raised dark brows. ‘Does this mean you’re beginning to alter your opinion of me?’ He reached for her in a leisurely fashion, his hands at the base of her spine, drawing her to him and holding her lightly within the circle of his arms. ‘Perhaps there’s still hope I could persuade you that I’m the sort of man you could go for?’
She laughed softly. ‘There’s always hope, I sup pose.’ She looked at him from under her lashes. ‘But I wouldn’t get too carried away if I were you.’
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