They would see it for what it was: a cold business arrangement with a positive outcome, her winery and his reputation pulled out of the mire and given a sparkly glow. She tapped her wineglass against her hip as a reminder. He had no right to ask questions about her feelings, her challenges, the obstacles in her life.
For the next four days, she and Aish could have closeness. Physicality. But they would never again have real intimacy. She would never again reach toward the fire for warmth and only get pain and a palmful of ashes.
Her grey thoughts were interrupted by Roman, Namrita, and Carmen Louisa coming toward them, their gorgeous party outfits disrupted by the worried expressions on their faces.
Aish saw them, too. “Should I...?” He began to motion with his thumb out of the area, but then stopped.
Sofia realized she was squeezing his bicep harder.
She let go but said, “No. Stay.”
He’d been helpful before. Whatever this was, he could be helpful again.
Roman, Carmen Louisa, and Namrita surrounded them.
“One of the workers was attacked at the winery,” Roman said, low. “He’s going to be fine, just a mild concussion and a few bruises. But I’m taking my team over now. Castle security alone will have to manage the coverage here.”
“What happened?” Sofia asked, her wineglass cool against her racing heart.
“He said he was doing some last-minute checks before he came to the party, thought the winery was empty, then was surprised by some guy trying to mess with one of the tanks. The guy roughed him up and then ran.”
Carmen Louisa asked, “Did he recognize him?”
Roman shook his head. “Said he wasn’t local. Brown hair, early thirties. He didn’t speak so we don’t know what language.”
“How did he get in?” Aish asked.
That was a good question. Her walls were actually pretty good at keeping out pests. Except Juan Carlos.
Juan Carlos. She leaned back from the group to shoot a glance at him now. The winemaker looked relaxed in his circle of sycophants. Would he really be so afraid of Sofia’s success that he ramped up his intimidation tactics to include breaking and entering, sabotage, and violence on her workers?
“Not sure,” Roman said, drawing her attention back. “Since everyone’s taking a day off tomorrow, we’ll have downtime to review security and fill the holes.”
He licked his full lips and slid a hand into his slim-fitting suit pants. Her soldier brother had become a bit of a fashionista in the time she’d known him, and she appreciated the dichotomy of it, enjoyed seeing him in something other than his bodyguard black. Right now, she hated the guilt on his face.
“We never did catch that fucking vandal,” he said, his green eyes troubled. “I’m real sorry about this, Sofia.”
Her half brother was adept at bearing the weight of the world. He was a war veteran who’d saved his platoon, an entrepreneur whose company protected movie stars and human rights advocates, and a retrieval specialist who’d entered the international spotlight when he’d rescued a Mexican teen heiress after others had abandoned the mission. The only thing he’d been unwilling to take on was his role as a member of the royal family.
Although his relationship with Mexican tycoon Daniel Trujillo, the heiress’s father, had provided loans to get the Monte through the worst economic times, Roman still acted like a guest whenever he was in the kingdom.
“Basta, hermano,” Sofia said, patting “enough” on her brother’s chest. “You’ve done so much for us. You’re a huge part of the winery’s success. In fact, this is probably just a byproduct of the success, an overeager tourist who snuck in then panicked. I have every faith you’ll figure out what happened. The only thing I feel bad about is that you can’t stay for the party. This is your celebration, too.”
As always, her brother gave her his steady nod. But both she and Mateo still had a lot of work to do to get him to embrace that he was an essential member of their family.
As he turned to go, Sofia pulled Namrita and Carmen Louisa close. “Beberse todo, mujeres,” she said, grabbing wineglasses from a passing waiter and handing them to them. “Drink, laugh, dance. You’ve worked so hard.” She kissed them both on their cheeks. “Roman will find the attacker and shore up our security. I want to see you smile.”
Both women looked surprised by Sofia’s enthusiasm.
She would visit the worker tomorrow, make sure he was comfortable and well compensated, and invite him to the castillo’s dungeon with her once Roman found whoever dared to hurt one of her people. She liked to keep the manacles oiled down there specifically for such a purpose.
But Sofia wanted to stay riding high on the wave instead of drowning under its weight. All their hard work had paid off. The world’s excitement about Bodega Sofia would translate into a brighter future for her kingdom. For once, her need to be needed was a benefit to the people she cared about, and not a burden.
With the guitar strum of her homeland’s music drifting over the crowd and glasses of her wine in the hands of laughing and chatting interns, an unfamiliar bubble of hope filled Sofia’s chest. When she looked at Aish, he looked back like he’d never taken his eyes off her.
He tilted his head and gave her the gentlest of kisses. But beyond him, just before she closed her eyes, she saw Juan Carlos watching.
Two hours later, with the party in the courtyard roaring along as the wine flowed and the band played, Sofia tried to look regal as she held up the edge of her long skirt and fast-walked along the ancient terra-cotta tiles that lined the hallways of her childhood home. Just like when her brother used to sleigh her along these slick floors on a blanket, she hoped she didn’t get caught by any El Castillo staff. They were loyal, hardworking, and willing to adapt to Mateo’s budgetary restraints and an overall
