Read Online Grapes of Wrath (Billionaires' Secrets Book 2) by Jennifer Lewis - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jennifer Lewis
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dogs shot her an accusatory look over his powerful shoulders before following obediently at his master’s heels.
Every muscle in her body itched with the urge to turn and flee. But her parents had taught her to cope with tough situations, not run from them.
Susannah inhaled a shaky breath and stepped inside.
Clara Alvarez sat on the sofa, head in her hands. Sobs racked her solid body.
“Mama.” Amado spoke softly.
“I’m not your mother.” Her meaty hands muffled the tear-thickened words. “I shouldn’t have played a part in this charade. God will curse me. I deserve to suffer.” Her fresh howl of pain ripped a hole in Susannah’s gut.
What on earth had happened here thirty-one years ago?
Amado shook his head.
“She’s so upset. My father has ridden off into the mountains. He won’t speak to anyone.”
He strode across the room, and Susannah followed, hoping to get out of earshot of the distraught Clara. Tension hummed in the air, and in her own anxious body. The estancia ’s tranquil, nurturing atmosphere had been shattered. Possibly forever.
“Can we go out on the terrace?” she whispered.
Amado frowned at her, but opened the door and ushered her out.
The sun glared at them over jagged mountain peaks that suddenly looked like the teeth of a giant saw.
Susannah steadied herself. The situation really couldn’t get any worse. Now seemed as good a time as any to blurt out her request. “Your real father wants you to come to New York.”
“My real father.” The words tore from Amado’s lips like a foul curse. “How can you say that? A strange man who cared nothing for me. Who abandoned me to fate. Now he seeks to claim me for reasons of his own and doesn’t care whose life he ruins in the process.”
“He’s very sorry for how he treated his lost children.” Susannah twisted her hands together.
“Lost? I wasn’t lost. I was at home here in Tierra de Oro.” Pain shone in his eyes. “The estate has passed from father to son, for six generations. Now the chain is broken because my father has no son.”
He broke off and stared out at the mountains.
The acres of lush vineyards sprawled in a rich, striped carpet below them. The grapes no doubt growing and ripening, regardless of the human drama inside the house.
Susannah could hardly bring herself to look at Amado’s strained profile. “I don’t understand. Who was Marisa Alvarez?”
He didn’t turn to face her. “Marisa Alvarez was my sister.”
Susannah’s hand flew to her mouth. “A sister? I didn’t know you had one.”
“Why would you? She’s been dead for thirty years.” Now he turned. His dark gaze burned her. “And she wasn’t my sister at all.”
Susannah blinked, sure anything she could say would be worse than nothing. She couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.
She wanted to offer him something, maybe even a reassuring hand. But his rigid posture and proud expression prevented her.
She could still remember the powerful sensation of being held in his strong arms. Lying in his bed, suffused with pleasure and spent tension, more relaxed than she’d ever been in her life.
That felt like a lifetime ago.
“Marisa, my sister, lived a quiet life here at Tierra de Oro. Her mother—Ignacio’s first wife—died in childbirth, so she was raised by her widowed father.”
He glanced at her. “I knew all this. What I didn’t know is that, when Marisa was seventeen, she grew tired of being sheltered and protected by her father. After spending a summer studying art in Mendoza, and secretly earning money from selling her paintings, she ran away to New York.”
Chapter Eight
S usannah blew out a breath. It was starting to make sense.
“My father,” he raised an eyebrow, “or should I say Ignacio, knows little about this part of her life. But she stayed there for over a year and during that time she met Tarrant Hardcastle.”
His words dripped with venom at the name.
“And they had an affair,”
Every muscle in her body itched with the urge to turn and flee. But her parents had taught her to cope with tough situations, not run from them.
Susannah inhaled a shaky breath and stepped inside.
Clara Alvarez sat on the sofa, head in her hands. Sobs racked her solid body.
“Mama.” Amado spoke softly.
“I’m not your mother.” Her meaty hands muffled the tear-thickened words. “I shouldn’t have played a part in this charade. God will curse me. I deserve to suffer.” Her fresh howl of pain ripped a hole in Susannah’s gut.
What on earth had happened here thirty-one years ago?
Amado shook his head.
“She’s so upset. My father has ridden off into the mountains. He won’t speak to anyone.”
He strode across the room, and Susannah followed, hoping to get out of earshot of the distraught Clara. Tension hummed in the air, and in her own anxious body. The estancia ’s tranquil, nurturing atmosphere had been shattered. Possibly forever.
“Can we go out on the terrace?” she whispered.
Amado frowned at her, but opened the door and ushered her out.
The sun glared at them over jagged mountain peaks that suddenly looked like the teeth of a giant saw.
Susannah steadied herself. The situation really couldn’t get any worse. Now seemed as good a time as any to blurt out her request. “Your real father wants you to come to New York.”
“My real father.” The words tore from Amado’s lips like a foul curse. “How can you say that? A strange man who cared nothing for me. Who abandoned me to fate. Now he seeks to claim me for reasons of his own and doesn’t care whose life he ruins in the process.”
“He’s very sorry for how he treated his lost children.” Susannah twisted her hands together.
“Lost? I wasn’t lost. I was at home here in Tierra de Oro.” Pain shone in his eyes. “The estate has passed from father to son, for six generations. Now the chain is broken because my father has no son.”
He broke off and stared out at the mountains.
The acres of lush vineyards sprawled in a rich, striped carpet below them. The grapes no doubt growing and ripening, regardless of the human drama inside the house.
Susannah could hardly bring herself to look at Amado’s strained profile. “I don’t understand. Who was Marisa Alvarez?”
He didn’t turn to face her. “Marisa Alvarez was my sister.”
Susannah’s hand flew to her mouth. “A sister? I didn’t know you had one.”
“Why would you? She’s been dead for thirty years.” Now he turned. His dark gaze burned her. “And she wasn’t my sister at all.”
Susannah blinked, sure anything she could say would be worse than nothing. She couldn’t make sense of what he was saying.
She wanted to offer him something, maybe even a reassuring hand. But his rigid posture and proud expression prevented her.
She could still remember the powerful sensation of being held in his strong arms. Lying in his bed, suffused with pleasure and spent tension, more relaxed than she’d ever been in her life.
That felt like a lifetime ago.
“Marisa, my sister, lived a quiet life here at Tierra de Oro. Her mother—Ignacio’s first wife—died in childbirth, so she was raised by her widowed father.”
He glanced at her. “I knew all this. What I didn’t know is that, when Marisa was seventeen, she grew tired of being sheltered and protected by her father. After spending a summer studying art in Mendoza, and secretly earning money from selling her paintings, she ran away to New York.”
Chapter Eight
S usannah blew out a breath. It was starting to make sense.
“My father,” he raised an eyebrow, “or should I say Ignacio, knows little about this part of her life. But she stayed there for over a year and during that time she met Tarrant Hardcastle.”
His words dripped with venom at the name.
“And they had an affair,”
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