Sundown Crossing Read Online Free PDF

glanced at Papa, then back at Rolfe. ‘I believe you have, developing your own winery, no less.’ He brought his hands together in a slow hand clap. ‘Bravo, Rolfe.’ His gaze moved to rest respectfully on the oil painting over the fireplace of a stately-looking woman with red-gold hair and green eyes. ‘Mutter would be proud.’
    ‘We are all proud of what Rolfe has accomplished,’ Greta said quietly, ‘aren’t we, Papa?’
    ‘Of course, of course,’ Carl retorted testily, his greying eyebrows drawing together in a frown. ‘We can talk about Krugerhoff later. I’m sure Kurt and Marta are tired from their flight and the drive from Adelaide. They should rest before dinner.’ He reached forward to draw Marta up and off the sofa, saying, ‘You are very welcome here, Marta. Kurt is a lucky man and we wish both of you the happiest of futures together.’
    ‘Thank you, Papa Carl. Kurt has told me so much about each of you that I feel as if I know you already.’ She patted Lisel’s knee and reached forward with her free hand to ruffle Luke’s mop of dark hair.
    ‘I will show you to your room, Marta, it’s next door but one to mine,’ Lisel offered.
    Rolfe could see that already the youngest Stenmark had fallen under the spell of Marta’s beauty and her charming European manners. As everyone rose from various chairs, he slipped from the room to curtail any further criticism from Papa regarding his late appearance. Heheaded for his bedroom where he stripped down to his underpants and threw his body across the bed, lying on his back to stare at the ceiling. His sense of bone weariness on the drive home had dissipated on meeting Kurt’s fiancée. He felt rejuvenated, delighted and…aroused. What a vision was Marta Gronow. Perfectly groomed, she walked like a ballet dancer—he’d stayed long enough to see her glide towards the drawing-room doors—and that soft, sexy voice of hers.
    Groaning, he rolled over onto his stomach, thinking about the two brief romantic encounters in his life. His first at the age of sixteen, with a fruit-picker at the end of harvest. It had been a rushed, groping encounter after they’d both consumed enough wine to make themselves tipsy. The other, when he was twenty, with a student at the viticulture college had, for the most part, been little more than a mutually satisfying sexual liaison that ended after her graduation.
    Trust Kurt to find an angel like Marta. Rolfe’s grunt of disgust was muffled by the bedspread. His brother had always been a lucky bastard. Firstborn, better looking, Papa’s favourite, academically smarter and better at sports than he was and with a more outgoing personality and, now…Marta. Feeling guilt race through him due to his jealous thoughts he tried to stifle the shudder of envy that engulfed him. A brief knock on the door disturbed his mental meanderings.
    ‘I’m not dressed,’ he warned, hoping to put off the would-be intruder.
    ‘That’s okay, Rolfie. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before,’ Kurt replied.
    He came into the room and flung himself across the bed in a similar fashion to Rolfe, then he settled on his side and used his hand and elbow to prop up his head. He gazed around the room, re-acquainting himself with the furniture, the pictures on the wall. Rolfe could tell from Kurt’s unguarded expression that he thought the inordinate tidiness of the room unusual. No other family member was addicted to being compulsively neat.
    Rolfe chose to ignore Kurt’s use of the nickname their Mutter had given him. He was rarely addressed as Rolfie these days. ‘Aren’t you supposed to be resting before dinner?’
    Kurt grinned. ‘This is resting. So, tell me, what do you think?’
    ‘About what?’
    Kurt rolled his eyes. ‘Marta, dummkopf.’
    ‘She is very lovely but I think she has a problem with her eyes,’ the younger brother said quite seriously, doing his best to keep a straight face when he saw a frown creep across