Truly, she couldn’t forget, as she had thrown an absolutely spectacular party for Cricket, which had made Cricket look wide-eyed and uncomfortable, particularly in the fitted dress Emerson had chosen for her. Cricket did not enjoy being the center of attention.

Emerson did like it. But only on her terms.

Cricket looked mildly incensed in the moonlight. “I didn’t come out here to be teased.”

“I’m sorry,” Emerson responded, sincere because she didn’t want to hurt her sister. She only wanted to mildly goad her, because Cricket was incredibly goadable.

Emerson looked out across the vast expanse of fields and frowned when she saw a figure moving among the vines.

It was a man. She could tell even from the balcony that he had a lean, rangy body, and the long strides of a man who was quite tall.

“Who’s that?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” Cricket said, peering down below. “Should I get Dad?”

“No,” Emerson said. “I can go down.”

She knew exactly who was supposed to be at the party, and who wasn’t.

And if this man was one of the Coopers from Cowboy Wines, then she would have reason to feel concerned that he was down there sniffing around to get trade secrets.

Not that their top rival had ever stooped to that kind of espionage before, but she didn’t trust anyone. Not really.

Wine-making was a competitive industry, and it was only becoming more so.

Emerson’s sister Wren always became livid at the mere mention of the Cooper name, and was constantly muttering about all manner of dirty tricks they would employ to get ahead. So really, anything was possible.

“I’ll just run down and check it out.”

“You’re going to go down and investigate by yourself?”

“I’m fine.” Emerson waved a hand. “I have a cell phone, and the place is heavily populated right now. I don’t think I’m going to have any issues.”

“Emerson…”

Emerson slipped back inside, and out a side door, moving quickly down the stairs, not listening to her sister at all. She didn’t know why, but she felt compelled to see who the man was for herself.

Maybe because his arrival was the first truly interesting thing to happen all evening. She went in the direction where she’d last seen the figure, stepping out of the golden pool of light spilling from the party and into the grapevines. The moonlight illuminated her steps, though it was pale and left her hands looking waxen.

She rounded one row of grapevines into the next, then stopped, frozen.

She had known he was tall, even from a distance. But he was…very tall. And broad.

Broad shoulders, broad chest. He was wearing a cowboy hat, which seemed ridiculous at night, because it wasn’t keeping the sun off him. He had on a tight black T-shirt and a pair of jeans.