The High Price of Secrets(32)

                “Sure, that’d be nice.”

                “Red or white?”

                “How about you surprise me,” she answered, all capability of making any rational decisions gone in his company.

                “Okay,” he said. “I’ll be back in a minute. Unless you’d like to see my wine cellar?”

                She laughed. “Does that fall under the same category as seeing your etchings?” Heat flamed in her cheeks as she realized what she’d just said and she clapped a hand to her mouth. “Oh, I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean anything by that, it just slipped out!”

                Finn laughed, his eyes crinkling at the corners in genuine amusement. “It’s no problem and, for the record, no, this isn’t in the same category at all. The cellar is through this way,” he said, reaching for her hand.

                Tamsyn tried not to think about the way his warm dry hand encapsulated her own or how the sensation of his palm against hers sent her synapses into meltdown. Instead, she focused on her breathing as they walked through a door off the kitchen and down a couple of stairs before continuing along a short tiled corridor.

                “The cellar is built into the side of the hill,” Finn said as they went down a couple more stairs before stopping at a door. “Obviously it’s easier to keep it temperature controlled this way.”

                He opened the door and Tamsyn couldn’t stop the captivated sigh of appreciation as she saw the shelved walls open up before her.

                “This is impressive,” she said, stepping forward and checking the labels on some of the several hundred bottles of wine on shelves that crisscrossed the walls. “Ethan would love this.”

                “Ethan?” Finn asked, raising one brow.

                “My brother. He’s our head winemaker at The Masters.”

                “Maybe he’ll visit sometime,” he said blandly before selecting two bottles from the shelves. “Here we go. How about a pinot gris to start and then a pinot noir with dinner?”

                “Sounds great,” Tamsyn agreed and turned to precede him out of the cellar and back to the kitchen.

                While Finn opened the white wine and poured two glasses, Tamsyn drifted over to the wall of French doors that opened out onto a wide patio.

                “This is quite a house you have,” she said as she accepted the glass of wine Finn brought over to her.

                “It’s big, yeah, but it’s home,” Finn said, reaching past her to open the glass door and guided her outside onto the patio. “Take a seat,” he invited. “I’ll just get some appetizers.”

                Tamsyn perched on the edge of a comfortably padded patio chair and waited for Finn to return. Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw him return with a tray laden with antipasto.

                “Wow, you put all this together?”

                “One of my many talents,” he answered with a smile. “A…close friend of my father’s taught me to appreciate life with all its flavors. These are just some of them.”

                “Sounds like a great friend to have.”

                Finn took a sip of his wine before nodding. “The best. When my dad died and my mother became unwell, he stepped up and provided me with a home. I’ll always be grateful to him for that. I owe him a lot.”