The Villa

on his shoulder just a moment before she climbed out of his lap. "We're probably better off this way. My father stole from the company."
    Before he could decide how to respond, she took a step toward him. "You knew."
    "No."
    "But you're not surprised."
    He got to his feet, sincerely hoping this wasn't the start of another battle. "No, I'm not surprised."
    "I see." She looked away from him, stared hard into the hearth where last night's fire had burned to ashes. Apt, she thought. She felt just like that—cold and empty. "All right. Well." She stiffened her spine, wiped away the last traces of tears. "I pay my debts. I'll fix you dinner."
    He started to protest. Then weighed the options of solitude against a hot meal. The woman could cook, he recalled. "You know where the kitchen is."
    "Yes, I do." She stepped closer, rose on her toes and kissed his cheek. "Down payment," she told him, and shrugged out of her jacket as she left the room.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN
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    " You didn't call me back."
    Margaret tracked Tyler down in the MacMillan winery. She'd had several satisfying and successful meetings since her return from Venice. Her career was advancing well, she was certain she looked her best after two carefully outlined shopping forays before her return to California. She was developing the polish she'd always believed international travel sheened on a woman.
    There was one last goal she intended to achieve while she was stateside. Bagging Tyler MacMillan.
    "Sorry. I've been swamped." February was a slow month in winemaking, but that didn't mean there wasn't work. Sophia had scheduled a wine-tasting party that evening on his turf. While he wasn't particularly pleased about it, he understood the value. And knew the importance of making certain everything was in place.
    "I can imagine. I looked over the plans for the centennial campaign. You've done a terrific job."
    "Sophia has."
    Margaret wandered with him as he moved into the tasting room. "You don't give yourself enough credit, Ty.
    When are you coming over to take a look at the operation in Italy? I think you'd be impressed and pleased."
    "There're noises about it. I don't have time now."
    "When you do, I'll show you the area. Buy you some pasta at this terrific little trattoria I found. They're serving our wine there now, and I'm negotiating with some of the top hotels to spotlight our label this summer."
    "Sounds like you've been busy, too."
    "I love it. There's still a little resistance with some of the accounts that were used to Tony Avano and his style of business. But I'm bringing them around. Do the police have any more on what happened to him?"
    "Not that I've heard." How soon, Tyler wondered, would word of the embezzlement leak?
    "It's terrible. He was a very popular guy with the accounts. And they loved him in Italy. They're not as open to sitting around drinking grappa and smoking cigars with me."
    He stopped, smiled at her. "That's a picture."
    "I know how to play with the boys. I have to head back end of the week, make several stops here in the States on my way. I was hoping we could get together. I'll fix you dinner."
    What was with women offering to cook for him? Did he look hungry? "That's—" He broke off as he saw Maddy come in. The kid always lifted his spirits. "Hey. It's the mad scientist."
    Secretly delighted, Maddy sneered at him. "I've got my secret formula." She held up two peanut butter jars filled with dark liquid.
    "Looks pretty scary." Ty took it, tipped the one she held out to him side to side and watched it swish.
    "Maybe you could try it at your tasting tonight. See what people say."
    "Hmmm." He could only imagine the comments of the wine snobs after a sip of Maddy's kitchen wine. And because he could, he began to grin. "It's a thought."
    "Aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?" It wasn't that Margaret didn't like children, mostly at a safe distance. But she was trying to make some time here.
    "Oh, sorry. Margaret Bowers, Maddy Cutter."
    "Oh, you must be David's little girl. Your father and I had some meetings today."
    "No kidding." Resentment at being called a little girl simmered. "Me, too. Can I stay for some of the tasting?" She turned to Ty, ignoring Margaret. "I'm going to do this whole report on the wine, so I want to, like, observe and stuff."
    "Sure." He opened the jar, nosed it. Amusement gleamed in his eyes. "I'd like to observe this one myself."
    "Ty? How about tomorrow