Black Diamonds (4 page)

“How long have you been here?” Bob asked as they followed her up the track.

“About twenty years,” she replied over her shoulder. “Our production isn’t huge, of course. We started with one thousand trees, now we’ve got about three thousand. We’ve grafted a range of different truffle fungus onto the tree roots and every year we hold our breaths, waiting to see if they’ll take. Some do, some don’t. We’ve been lucky, we’re doing well.”

“Jacaranda likes to experiment.” Xavier didn’t want to shorten her name. He liked the way her full name felt in his mouth, almost as much as he liked the way she walked. He covered his eyes with his sunglasses. All the better to look at Miss Riley in her vaguely schoolgirlish white pinafore; though no schoolgirl he had ever seen in France displayed such a smooth, tanned back.

“Do you irrigate your trees, Jackie?” Bob wiped his brow as they came to a halt under a canopy of hazel trees in full green leaf. They were more established than Xavier had expected, and in good shape, healthy and well cared for. Tom Riley had obviously known what he was doing.

She nodded. “We have to. Our trees wouldn’t survive otherwise, especially when there’s a particularly hot summer.” Pointing beyond the trees, she added, “There’s a dam up there, and we trickle feed the trees from it. We rely on that dam.”

“Your dam must be right at the boundary of my property,” Xavier said.

“Yes.”

Her brief reply told him she clearly didn’t want to be reminded of his newly acquired land’s nearness to hers. He hid another grin.

Eve, trailing behind, looked appreciatively up at the leafy rows. “This is gorgeous. I feel so refreshed here.”

“I used to sit under here when I was a little girl, if I was ever worried about something.” Jacaranda told her, smiling. “I always felt better afterwards.”

Eve smiled back. “Oh, how sweet.”

“Where did your truffle grafting come from? Originally, I mean?” Bob asked.

“They’re French.” Their hostess admitted with obvious reluctance.

He slid a teasing glance at her from above his sunglasses. “I understand this area of Western Australia was founded by the French. A group of mercenary invaders came here generations ago, I believe.”

Chewing her full lip, he sensed she was biting back a sharp rejoinder.

“Really?” Eve asked. “The French came here before the English?”

“It’s true,” Jacaranda nodded. “This part of the coast was settled by the French for a short time. Luckily,” she added, “most of those invaders soon went home.”

This time Xavier couldn’t stop the corners of his mouth turning up as she shot him a pointed glare.

Bob crouched to examine the roots of one of the hazel trees. “Do you get a lot of wildlife on your property?”

She shrugged. “A few kangaroos.”

“We saw a kangaroo jump across the road in front of the car last night!” Eve exclaimed. “I couldn’t believe it.”

“There’ve been quite a few accidents that way.”

Bob stood up, brushing the red soil off his hands. “I’ve seen the yellow signs with the kangaroos on them. I thought it was a joke at first, but I take it there are a lot of kangaroos in this area.”

“There are. You always have to watch for them, they’re sometimes hard to see, especially at night. Some of the worst accidents have been caused trying to miss hitting a kangaroo. You’ve probably noticed the crosses at places where there has been a fatality. It’s very sad.”

Xavier interjected, “The crosses by the side of the road, with flowers, yes.
Descansos
.”

Jacaranda turned to him, pushing her sunglasses up on her head. The colour of her eyes matched the sky. “
Descansos …
” she said slowly. “I haven’t heard them called that. Is it French?”

“It’s a Spanish word. The custom of placing crosses by the roadside in remembrance of those who have died is most common in Spanish speaking places like South America, particularly in Mexico. Some people find it morbid, but for me it’s a reminder of the brevity of life, and how we must seize the happiness we find.”

With a glance he captured her. It was as though he held her in his arms again, her quivering body melting into his. Even through his dark glasses he imprisoned her with his eyes, but not for long. Breaking the connection that blazed between them, she darted away, and flew down the path like a frightened, brightly coloured bird.

This tour couldn’t end soon enough. Jackie’s heart pounded as she raced along the dusty track. She had to get away from Xavier Antoine! What was it about this Frenchman that infuriated her one moment, and the next had her craving to be cradled in his arms?

Hurrying towards the other side of the property, she called over her shoulder, “If you’d like to come this way, you can meet our truffle dogs.”

Wild barking broke out as they approached the kennels. Dean knelt outside, repairing the fence that enclosed the huge shed. Her pa had always insisted on the dogs having plenty of room.

He stood up, a twist of wire in his hands. “Come for a dog demonstration, have you, Jackie?”

“That’s right.” Swiftly, Jackie made the introductions. “Dean, this is Xavier Antoine, and Bob and Eve Armitage. This is Dean Reeves, who’s our dog trainer. He helped develop the Truffle Farm. Put in the first hazel trees with my pa, didn’t you, Dean?”

“Sure did. I’ll get Rudolph.” Dean disappeared into the kennels. He’d always been a man of few words.

Xavier pushed his sunglasses onto his head and quirked an eyebrow at her. “Rudolph?”

“We got our dogs at Christmas time,” she explained defensively, trying not to notice how his muscles flexed when he lifted his arms. “We named them after Santa’s reindeers. Dasher and Prancer …”

“Comet and Blixen …” Eve put in.

“And there’s one called Vixen, I believe,” Xavier added, his tone deadpan, but she caught the suggestive glint in his eye.

To hide the flush that roared up her cheeks she spun away from him.
Keep your cool,
she reminded herself.
Don’t let him rile you—remember
?

“We have a lawn area for our dog demonstrations. Come this way, please.” Keeping her head erect, she stalked away.

Dean brought Rudy out, straining excitedly on his leash. She leaned down and gave the dog a rub, relishing the rough texture of his coat. “Hello boy, that’s right, hello Rudy.”

The Armitages and Xavier settled on the wooden benches in front of the truffle dog demonstration area. It was hard not to notice the way Xavier stretched out his long legs in front of him in one of his quintessentially European movements, or that he kept his dark eyes on her all the while.

“Do you want to do the honours, Jackie?” Dean asked.

“Sure.” Anything to avoid being near to Xavier Antoine.

Across the lawn she laid out two rows of upturned margarine tubs, hiding truffle scented treats under a few of them at random, while Dean kept Rudy busy.

“Ready?”

At her nod Dean let Rudy off the leash.

“Come on, Rudy!”

To her pride the dog sniffed straight along one row, knocking over the tubs where she’d hidden the truffles, ignoring the empty ones. At great speed, he repeated the process on the other row and gave a great satisfied woof at the end.

Crouching, Jackie rewarded him with treats. “That’s right, Rudy!”

“That’s some sniffer dog!” Bob exclaimed.

Eve jumped up and gave Rudy a pat. “He’s terrific! I’d rather see a truffle dog than a truffle pig. Don’t they still use truffle pigs in France?”

Xavier came to stand beside them. Rudy greeted him like a long lost friend, jumping up and licking his hands. “We mainly use dogs these days to sniff out the truffles. Though of course, in woods where you can still find truffles naturally, local pigs still root them out, as they have for centuries. But we prefer training dogs such as Labradors and beagles.”

Wrenching Rudy away from Xavier, Jackie nodded. “We’ve found Labs are the best.”

“We agree on something then, Jacaranda.” He didn’t shorten her name as most people did, she noticed. It made it sound strangely intimate.

“What’s the biggest truffle you’ve found here?” Bob asked.

Jackie clipped on Rudy’s leash. “We dug up one bigger than a golf ball a few years ago. My pa was over the moon. But that’s been the biggest.”

Eve laughed. “Can you imagine the first person who ate a truffle? I mean, they don’t look too appetising. Pigs and dogs find them, then they’re dug up from roots of trees under the ground, all covered with dirt. They ain’t pretty!”

“No, they’re not,” Jackie grinned back at Eve, liking her more and more. “Black, round and knobbly really, with those strange white veins running through them.”

“They say chocolate truffles look like them, but they don’t.”

Bob grinned too. “They’re not flavoured with rum, like the chocolate ones, that’s for sure.”

“Like most good things, they’re an acquired taste,” Xavier drawled.

“Woof!” Rudy seemed to agree.

They all laughed.

“If you’re ready to taste some of our truffle products, I’ll take you back to the cafe,” Jackie said. She passed the leash to Dean, who’d stood silently watching the demonstration. “Thanks, Dean.”

“No problem, Jackie.”

Stepping inside the cafe was a cool reprieve from the heat outside. Jackie turned on the fans and slipped behind the tasting bar. She needed something solid between her and Xavier Antoine.

“I expect you need these first.” Filling some tall tumblers with water, she handed them around. Both Eve and Bob looked hot, though Xavier had remained cool and immaculate. “Then you can taste some truffle products from Paradise.”

After a long swallow Xavier propped himself up on the counter with his elbow and gave a dismissive glance at the neatly lined row of bottles and jars she’d laid out with such care. “Not those.”

Jackie spluttered on her water. “I’m sorry?”

“Those products won’t interest Bob and Eve. That isn’t why I brought them here.” He gave the couple a charming smile. “They deserve better. Give them a taste of the truffle oil you gave me the other day. Your new one.”

Eve smiled. “That sounds exciting.”

“I’ve been experimenting, that’s all.” Jackie explained, trying to be civil, though her temper hovered dangerously near boiling point. “I’m not sure it’s ready for public tasting yet.”

“It’s ready,” Xavier said authoritatively.

“I think that’s my decision.” Clutching the edge of the bar she tried to keep a grip on her rage. How dared he do this! She wished she’d never let him taste the new truffle oil. No, scrap that. She wished she’d never met the man at all.

“I’m always keen to taste cutting edge products,” Bob said.

“Won’t you let us try it, Jackie?” Eve persuaded her with another smile.

She was cornered. To refuse to let them taste it now would be churlish.

“Of course.”

Hiding her reluctance, she fetched a bottle of the oil from the kitchen, placed two plates in front of Bob and Eve and put out some slices of crusty bread.

“I’d quite like another taste too,” Xavier said, his expression bland.

Seizing another plate she plopped it down in front of him.

“Look at that colour!” Bob exclaimed as she poured the oil, her heart lifting as she did so. She couldn’t help feeling proud of it. She’d not only infused the golden-green oil, but also added generous pieces of black truffle to it as well.

Bob took a few bites of the oil soaked bread. “This is amazing. It has unique taste.”

“It’s so rich!” Eve enthused. “I love it. It’s gorgeous. It’s better than anything I’ve had in New York.”

“I knew you’d like it.” Xavier sounded as smug as if he’d made it himself.

“This is quite something for a truffle farm your size and with your production capabilities,” Bob said to Jackie. “Is it too much to ask if we can buy some of your fresh truffles this year? When exactly will they be in season?”

“Our truffle season is our winter, from June to August, roughly. I’d be happy to send you some. We vacuum pack them, so they should make it by post, and last for a while.”

“We’ll have truffles in the American summer! What a treat!” After another bite of bread Eve turned to Xavier. “This really is delicious. You were absolutely right. She has to come next weekend.”

“Come where?” Jackie asked, confused.

“Every January I invite leading cultivators and distributors to my estate in the Dordogne,” Xavier said. “I choose a weekend at the height of the European winter season, when the major truffle markets and festivals are happening. You must attend.”

Why was he telling her what to do? It wasn’t an invitation; it sounded more like a command. “I can’t drop everything and come to France!”

“But it would be terrific for your business,” Eve said enthusiastically. “It’s an amazing weekend, and you could meet other people in the trade. Your truffles are going to be a sure-fire winner.”

Xavier spoke before she could. “
Mais oui
. Of course she will come.”

Jackie turned to Eve. “It’s kind of you to be so encouraging. But I really couldn’t get away …”

Again he broke in. “It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.”

She glared at him. “I said I can’t!”

Eve looked from one to the other. “Think about it,” she said tactfully. She glanced at her gold watch and then at her husband. “Bob, I hate to say this, but we’d better be getting back, or we’re going to miss our plane.”

Jackie took some bottles of oil and moved in front of the tasting bar. She handed them to Eve. “Please take these with you, with my compliments.”

“Oh, thank you,” Eve replied with a smile. “It was a real pleasure meeting you.”

With equal friendliness Jackie smiled back. “And both of you.”

Xavier moved closer to her as the Armitages went out the door. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” he told them.

When they’d gone, he spun around so that they were face to face. His voice low but steely, he demanded, “What’s the matter with you? Why are you determined to miss the opportunity I’m offering you?”

His nearness sent her body heat soaring. Defiantly she jutted her jaw up at him. “If I want something from you, I’ll ask for it.”

“Is that so? Are you asking for this?”