Intoxicating Read Online Free

good at the public relationships aspect of running a winery. Kiara was not.
    But she was the one who needed an assistant—her family had finally convinced her to delegate some of the lab duties—and the man behind her had demonstrated all the essential qualities. Without an accomplished assistant, she wasn’t free to concentrate on her goal—creating premium dessert wine that would turn BellaNotte into the go-to vineyard for sweet, late-harvest wines of superior quality.
    Her approach to winemaking differed from all the Romanos who had come before her. With a PhD in Viticulture and Enology, she was one-hundred-percent scientific. She kept excellent data. She played by the rules. No loosey-goosey, artsy “magic” of winemaking for her. Yes, Great-grandfather Romano had achieved a lot in his day with nothing but natural talent and grapevines nurtured all the way across the ocean from Naples, but time and technology had changed winemaking from instinct to a discipline.
    Now for the nitty-gritty of the interview.
    Don’t get your hopes up, just because this guy seems to have all the traits you’re looking for. Take your time. There’s no rush.
    It sounded good, but that wasn’t true. She’d managed to pluck Bella Notte from the brink of bankruptcy after her father’s illness had forced him to step down as head of the winery, but they were still far from secure. Decadent Midnight, her own creation, was the ace in the hole and this year it was her chance to shine at the Sonoma Best of the Best competition.
    She pushed through the door into her lab. She waved at a metal stool drawn up to one of the tables. “Have a seat.”
    Kiara went around to the other side of the table, but remained standing. Folding her arms over her chest, she canted her head, studying the man.
    Behind the dark-framed glasses he wore, eyes the deep color of chestnuts stared back at her. Brown shaggy hair flopped over his forehead, giving him a rakish appearance. He looked as though he dressed withthe help of a thrift store. Nothing wrong with that. Between being young and either in college or just graduated, most interns were broke.
    But beneath the surface, this guy was different.
    For one thing, his nails were buffed and he had no calluses on his palms, unlike her work-roughened hands. Plus, he moved with an air of self-confidence that belied his position. And then there was his clear talent for evaluating wine. Why hadn’t another winery snapped him up by now?
    Maurice handled the intern applications and training. Where had her cousin found him?
    Her eyes met his.
    A slow, easy grin started at one side of his mouth and slipped to the other while his gaze cockleburred onto hers.
    Slick. He was way too slick.
    Kiara scowled.
    His smile teetered and for a flash of a second, she saw hesitation in his face and she immediately liked him better.
    Maybe the bravado was all show. Maybe he wasn’t as cocky as he seemed. Or maybe she was simply too wary. Her whole family told her she should be more open, more trusting, more romantic, like her sister, Deirdre. Easy for them to say. Love for them prevented her from pointing out that their trust of an unscrupulous accountant had placed the Romanos’ livelihood in serious jeopardy and crusty ol’ Kiara was the one who had to save them.
    â€œI’m Kiara.” She thrust out her hand.
    The smile returned. “So I heard.” He took her hand. “Wyatt Jordan.”
    The instant their hands touched a blast of raw sexual desire shot up her arm and sped a blistering trail straight to her groin. Her body reacting to him without her approval: that had never happened before
    Wyatt’s eyes widened.
    Kiara withdrew her hand, her gaze dropping to her feet.
    Silence crawled by, slow and painful.
    â€œSo…” she said, ignoring the butterfly storm in her stomach.
    â€œSo,” he echoed.
    â€œLooks like we both have the same extensive