So maybe he hadn't come a long way in miles—he lived over in the next valley and most Thursday nights came for dinner— but the emotional gap he'd covered by returning spanned more than physical distance. Ever since that final, fierce altercation with his father he'd stayed well away from the winery itself where he'd once toiled long hours creating fine wines using a blend of science and art. Business and family just didn't mix.

Now he stared around the winery. The oak vats smelled exactly as he remembered from when he'd been chief wine-maker here.

"Heath…"

Every muscle tightened at the sound of the soft voice behind him. Amy. He turned and his eyes drank in the sight of her.

A tentative smile played on her pearly-pink lips. Her bobbed dark-chocolate hair was smoothly tucked behind her ears, gold studs glinting in her lobes. Subtle makeup, only enough to hide the dark circles beneath her golden eyes, nothing more. If it hadn't been for those molten eyes, she would've looked like a schoolgirl. Not frumpy, but almost too neat to be true in the white shirt with a rounded collar and the navy skirt.

Innocent.

Or maybe not. Inside he sighed silently. He'd planned to avoid Amy today. All week. Forever, if he could. He started to