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His brain circled back to the dilemma when a tall, statuesque blonde sailed through the throng of people towards him. “Ledger, it’s such a pleasure to see you again.”

He groaned internally, having forgotten who the tour leader would be for this wine tasting. This was all he needed; a woman who believed only shifters had any real value.

The joy!

He gave her his most professional smile as Vivien brought a lot of business to the vineyard, and though Ledger couldn’t stand her snobby, elitist attitude, he was proficient in not revealing his true feelings.

He could, when needed, act his part very well. “Vivien, you are looking positively radiant.” He offered his hand, knowing the drill. “You must share your secret with me.”

She took his hand, waiting for him to kiss her knuckles, doing a fake little tittering laugh that got on his nerves. She was a lion shifter, one who came from a lineage that dated back centuries, and if she was to be believed, had no divergents in her family tree. That was something she frequently liked to remind people of, especially Ledger after she discovered he was divergent.

She giggled like a schoolgirl rather than a woman of sixty-five. Fluttering her eyelashes at him like she’d gotten something in her eye, he brushed a kiss over her knuckles, keeping the touch to a minimum.

“Why you sweet boy.” She eyed him closely, and he could see the moment she decided to be ‘honest’ with him. He’d quickly realized, after their first few encounters, that this was something she only did with divergents. “Though, by the look of your skin, I’d say you need something to stop those crows' feet from deepening, darling.” She tugged her hand back and waved it towards his face. “Divergent skin is so different from that of shifters. You need to take better care of yourself.”

On that cutting comment, she spun on her high heel and waved at the couple of stragglers at the back of the group. A group that Ledger would bet money did not contain one divergent. “Let me introduce you to Ledger.”

She clicked her fingers at him and Ledger gritted his teeth while smiling affably at the group, knowing exactly how many times she’d refer to him as divergent before she finished her introduction.

Five, he’d counted them after their first meeting. He’d learned long ago, when it came to business, to plaster on a smile and remember that this was personal now. Thorn owned the winery with his brothers, and it didn’t matter that the woman was anignoramus, and he wanted to tell her to take a hike—no, it didn’t. Instead, he zoned out as she gave her little speech, trying to regroup with the waves of nausea coming and going like a slow ebbing tide this morning.

“—Vaughn wineries have an excellent selection of wines. Ledger, as the sommelier, will go through what is best to pair them with.”

He tuned back in as Vivien glanced at him as she finished speaking, wearing a look of impatient expectation.

He upped the wattage of his smile before focusing his attention on the group. “If you would follow me, we’ll go into the tasting room. I believe you have already toured the vineyard, so you’ll hopefully have gained some understanding of the grapes we cultivate here.”

A woman dressed in a summer dress that skimmed her body like a second skin, standing with a man half her age who looked bored already, placed a hand on the sleeve of Ledger’s suit jacket, drawing his attention. “How on earth can the vines survive the heat of summer?”

“Good question.” As he guided the group into the room, which he’d already set up for this session, he explained. “The vines we plant get chosen first for the climate and then the soil. The flavors they’ll give to the wine is the final consideration.” He went on to explain about the different types of soil and how they affect the vines, along with the weather.

He could see some of the group’s interest wane. It could be boring if you only wanted to taste and drink the wine. However, Ledger liked to cater to the entire group, so he continued as he stepped behind the counter, holding the wine bottles and glasses he’d chosen for this group.

“See this wine here,” he lifted a bottle of the sweetest wine they offered, recalling the preference on the list they asked folksto tick before coming. “It requires the heat to ensure we get the sweetness from the grapes.”

“I love sweet wine,” said a woman who was standing next to an elderly gentleman, beaming at the bottle Ledger held.

“Then this will be something of a must for you to try.” He poured a small amount into a balloon glass, swirled it around and then offered it to the woman to sniff.

She and the others moved closer, looking more enthused than moments ago. She took the glass and stuck it under her nose, sniffing a little harshly. “I smell… a hint of mint?”

Ledger nodded, impressed. “You have a good nose. You might notice it’s darker than some white wines and this is because of the grapes used. Chinuri wines have a floral and herbal character. The aroma is reminiscent of yellow fruit and, as you said, mint. The wine is commonly vinified with standard European techniques, but we use techniques used some thousands of years ago. Our amber Chinuri wines, such as this, are made the traditional way in huge terracotta pots, called ‘qvevri’. Did they show you the pots we store in the cellar?”

“They did,” she answered before anyone else. Her smile warmed as she glanced at the older man. “Did you hear that, Dad? I’ve a good nose!”

“Yes, love.”

The smile he gave her was indulgent and Ledger made note of that as he filled glasses, passing them around. It was always good to know who in the group held the purse strings.

“I don’t know how you suffer that woman,” Dacian grumbled behind Ledger as he watched the tour bus trundle off down the drive.

Ledger glanced in Dacian’s direction, grinning. “She was asking after you.”

Dacian gave an exaggerated shudder. “I know. It’s why I’m not too proud to say I hid. That woman makes my skin crawl.”

“I get that. But it’s my job, and it’s what you pay me the big bucks for.”

“We don’t pay you enough to listen to her wax lyrical about how amazing being a ‘shifter’ is! Conceited ass.”