Grapes of Wrath (Billionaires' Secrets Book 2) Read Online Free PDF

machine in the office every Monday. Some of their stories made her jaw drop. They weren’t saving themselves for Mr. Right any more than they had been in college. They lived for the moment.
    They had fun.
    Why couldn’t she have some fun too, for a change?

 
    Chapter Four
     
    S usannah’s ears pricked up at an exchange between Amado and Rosa. A minute later she heard Rosa leave, closing the door behind her.
    She tensed in anticipation at the sound of Amado’s decisive footsteps on the polished floor. He reappeared with two steaming white mugs.
    And she’d get the DNA. Tarrant would be happy. She’d keep her job.
    If Amado wasn’t his son, which she suspected, there’d be no harm done.
    If he was, Amado would no doubt inherit some of Tarrant’s billions.
    The retail tycoon was terminally ill and might have only weeks to live. He was trying desperately to find and embrace his long-neglected, illegitimate offspring before he died.
    Either way, she’d be doing a good deed.
    Right?
    Amado handed her a mug. His dark eyes narrowed. “You have a strange expression on your face.”
    “Me?” She let out a high, false laugh. “I’m just getting mesmerized by the fire, or something.”
    Emphasis on the or something.
    She sniffed the contents of the cup. “Coffee at this time of night? Won’t it keep us awake?”
    Amado’s mouth hitched slightly on one side. Something resembling a smile—or rather a wicked grin—crept across his face so slowly she wondered if she was imagining it. “Sometimes it’s good to be awake at night.”
    He settled into the sofa beside her. Close. His muscled thigh brushed against her skirt.
    Her pulse quickened.
    The heat of his body mingled with the warmth of the fire and her elevated body temperature.
    What if Tarrant found out she’d slept with the man he thought was his son?
    She swallowed hard. He wouldn’t.
    Amado would never tell. The old-world-honor thing. She sensed that he kept his emotions close to his chest. They’d spent hours together and while he’d talked about each of his wines like a beloved mistress, there’d been no mention whatsoever of his personal life.
    She also suspected that—like his charming vineyard tour and his expert foot massage—he did this quite often.
    Which, rather than alarming her, actually took the pressure off.
    She sensed his steady dark gaze on her as she sipped her drink. Mmm. Sticky, rich, dulce de leche sweetened the coffee.
    “Where does your family live now?”
    His question jarred her out of the sensual fog she’d drifted into. “You mean my parents?”
    He frowned. “Yes, and your brothers and sisters.”
    “I don’t have any brothers and sisters. There’s just me. My parents are back in the Philippines. They’re running a program there for at-risk teens.”
    “They sound like good people.”
    “They are. I wish I was more like them. Or at least I feel I should wish that. But someone’s got to devote their life to finding the best wines in the world, don’t you think?” Her words rang in the still air. Heat crept up her neck, embarrassment that she’d laid bare her insecurities.
    Amado didn’t blink. “Each of us has his or her own path. By trying to follow the wrong one, you do a disservice to yourself and to others.” He laid a big, reassuring hand on her arm. “And I can’t think of a more worthy pursuit than the quest for excellent wine.” He tilted his head and his eyes glittered. “But then, I’m biased.”
    Her arm heated under his palm. He was close enough that she could smell his scent. She distracted herself by trying to analyze it.
    Complex aroma, rich and appealing. A risky but invigorating blend of coffee, fermented grapes, burnt wood and hardworking male.
    Full and robust bouquet. The finish might well be bittersweet…but worth it.
    His palm moved over her forearm. Not really going anywhere, just moving back and forth. Stroking her.
    She glanced at his face, but he didn’t look up. He seemed