The Seductive One Page 11

  Brenna laughed. “Do we still use the word geek?”

  “You guys do, because you’re, well, old.”

  “Gee, thanks, brat.”

  Kelly grinned. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Really, Brenna. It’s just you guys haven’t been in school for a while. You can’t know what’s cool.”

  “That I’ll accept. You’re going to have to be the one to keep us informed of the coolness factor.”

  Kelly nodded. “I can do that. Francesca’s wedding dress is really beautiful. Have you seen the picture?”

  “No.” She held out her hand. “Give it up, Sis.”

  Francesca passed over a photo torn out of a bride’s magazine. Brenna studied the elegant gown and knew that her twin would look stunning.

  “I tried to get her to wear my dress,” Mia said. She shifted and tucked her legs under her. “But she said it was too fitted at the waist.”

  “I said we could take it out,” Katie added. “But I’m afraid that would mess up the lines.”

  Francesca shook her head. “Even if we could do it, I don’t want to wear Mia’s dress. It’s not me.”

  Mia raised her eyebrows. “Is that a statement about my taste? Because if it is, I’m going to remind you that I’m only eighteen and I’m still in college, so by Kelly’s standards, I’m the queen of cool.”

  “The only thing you’re the queen of is annoying,” Brenna said mildly.

  Mia stuck out her tongue.

  “Oh, that’s mature,” Katie said, rolling her eyes.

  Francesca smiled. “Mia, your dress is beautiful, but it wouldn’t look nearly as nice on me as it did on you.”

  Kelly bounced on the sofa. “Mia, I never saw your dress. Do you still have it?”

  “Sure.”

  Mia started to put down her lace, but Katie, Brenna, and Francesca all glared at her.

  “Don’t even think about it,” Francesca warned.

  Mia grinned at Kelly. “We’ll sneak upstairs later, when the wardens are sleeping.”

  Kelly nodded happily.

  “What about the menu?” Grandma Tessa asked. “We have to decide on what we’re eating.”

  “What about burgers?” Brenna offered.

  Even her mother frowned at her for that one.

  Brenna held up one hand. “Don’t hurt me. I was just kidding. Are you serious about changing the menu just because it’s going to be a double wedding?”

  Her mother frowned. “This isn’t for the wedding, dear. This is for the engagement party.”

  Brenna glanced at her two engaged sisters. “You’re having an engagement party? When was this decided?”

  “A couple of nights ago,” Katie said. “You were otherwise occupied.”

  “Do people still do that kind of thing?”

  “We do,” Grandma Tessa said firmly.

  “It was Katie’s idea,” Francesca said.

  Katie sighed. “You are so lying. It was your idea.”

  “They were both wantin’ a special celebration,” Grammy M said. “I think it’s a fine idea.”

  “Will you be bringing Grandpa Gabriel?” Kelly asked.

  Grammy M shrugged as if it didn’t much matter, but there was a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. “Maybe.”

  Brenna laughed. Her seventy-something grandmother had found romance with Francesca’s fiancé’s grandfather. The two seniors were forever sneaking out to dinner together and had even planned a cruise in the fall. Grandma Tessa claimed to be appalled that they would share a room without the benefit of a priest blessing the union, but Grammy M simply said that she was too old for sex outside of marriage to be considered a sin. Brenna was thrilled to know that she came from a gene pool that was still interested in the wild thing far into the December years.

  “We want something fairly casual,” Katie said. “Maybe a buffet outside with white lights strung all over. Just family and good friends.”

  “Sounds nice,” Brenna said.

  She looked at her sister as she spoke and saw Katie was watching her carefully. She turned her attention to Francesca. Her twin’s expression matched Katie’s. She could tell they were once again caught up in “poor Brenna not having a relationship.”

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  “Of course you are,” Grammy M said fondly. “Why would you be otherwise?”

  Brenna shook her head. How could she convince her sisters that she was completely happy for them? She couldn’t be more happy. As for wanting a relationship for herself…right now her schedule didn’t allow for a lot of boy-girl time. She was too busy trying to make her dreams come true. Besides, as long as Nic showed up every couple of days and made her toes curls, she didn’t actually need the real thing. Fantasizing about him was about twenty times better than any reality with a guy she was likely to meet.

  Nope, right now single felt exactly right. Well, except for missing sex.

  • • •

  Three days later Brenna parked in her usual spot at Wild Sea and headed in to check on her wines. Amazingly enough, it was still daylight. Her nonnocturnal visit was due to yet another argument with her grandfather, this one about what wines they were serving at a tasting dinner for the Marcelli distributors in town for a promotional weekend. After asking her opinion, her grandfather had detailed what he thought was wrong with every one of her choices. Rather than throw a temper tantrum—which had been her first choice—she’d made a graceful exit and ended up here.

  She crossed to what she’d begun to think of as “her building” and stepped inside.

  Instantly the scent of fermentation assaulted her. Brenna inhaled deeply, savoring the changes from yesterday, knowing tomorrow would be different, too. The subtle alterations told her things were going well.

  “Knock, knock. Brenna?”

  Brenna turned and saw a woman entering the building. Her guest was tall, with thick auburn hair and a model-perfect face. Brenna didn’t know if she should be more bitter about that or the woman’s slender body. Just being in the same room with her made her feel short and lumpy.

  She tried reminding herself that while she couldn’t be considered tall, except by the vertically challenged like Mia, she was of average height. If she wanted to be less lumpy, she would have to stop eating the Grands’ cooking.

  “Have we met?” Brenna asked as the woman approached.

  The woman smiled and held out her hand. “We haven’t been introduced, but I know who you are. I’m Maggie Moore, the chief financial officer for Wild Sea. I work for Nic.”

  “Ah,” Brenna said, fighting a sudden blast of jealousy. How like Nic to hire a beautiful woman in a job traditionally held by men.

  “If you’re looking for him, he’s not here,” she said.

  Maggie smiled. “Actually I was looking for you. I wanted to meet the infamous Brenna Marcelli.”

  “I’m infamous?” Brenna asked. “Gee, no one sent me a memo.”

  “I’m not sure the title extends past my office. I handle the finances for Wild Sea.”

  “I sort of guessed that by your job description.”

  “I know about the loan.”

  Now Brenna was really confused. “That was a private loan. I didn’t borrow the money from the corporation.”

  “Oh, I know. But even Nic doesn’t happen to have a million dollars in his checking account. Once he decided how he wanted to structure the deal, he had me draw up the paperwork.”

  Brenna wasn’t sure why she needed to know this. “Is there a problem?”

  “Not at all.” Maggie’s smile was friendly. “Like I said, I just wanted to get to know you.”

  Brenna wondered what Nic might have told this woman about her. Somehow she couldn’t see him spilling his guts about the past, but then, she’d been wrong before. Was Maggie more than just an employee?

  As soon as she asked the question, she realized it wasn’t likely. For one thing, Nic wouldn’t have kisse
d her the way he had if he’d been involved with someone else. For another, a quick glance at Maggie’s left hand told her that the woman was married.

  “How long have you worked at Wild Sea?” Brenna asked.

  “Almost nine years.” Maggie grinned. “It’s kind of sad because even though I’m around all this wonderful wine, I don’t really drink it.”

  Brenna chuckled. “Does Nic know?”

  “Yes, and it really bugs him. He tried to teach me about different wines once, but I kept nodding off during his explanations.” She pointed at one of the vats. “Which explains why I have to ask what you’re doing in there.”

  “Making Chardonnay,” Brenna said. “I’m fermenting a portion in oak and the rest in stainless steel. The stainless allows for easier temperature control. Barrel fermenting is more expensive, but it allows me to—”

  She broke off and shrugged. “Sorry. I get a little carried away.”

  “Don’t apologize. I’m impressed by your enthusiasm.”

  “This is important to me. I’ve wanted the chance to run things my way, and now I finally have it. I plan to take all the credit, but I’m also putting myself on the line to take all of the blame if things go wrong.”

  “Could they?” Maggie asked.

  “Sure. Wine making is as much art as it is science. I pay attention to both.”

  “Doesn’t everyone?” Maggie asked.

  “Most do. But once a winery gets big, it’s difficult to be intimately involved in every step. That isn’t going to happen here.”

  Brenna stopped again and sighed. “I did it again.”

  Maggie shook her head. “I can see your determination in your eyes. The only thing I’ve ever felt so passionately about is my daughter.” She laughed. “That sounds horrible. I love my husband completely. He’s wonderful, but it’s not the same as loving my child. Does that make sense?”

  “Sure.”

  Maggie glanced at her watch. “Speaking of Annie, I have to head home so I can spend the evening with her. Daddy has to work late, so it’s girls’ night at home.” She held out her hand. “It was great to meet you, Brenna.”

  “Likewise,” Brenna said, shaking hands.

  She watched Maggie leave. What on earth had that been about? If she didn’t know better, she would say that Nic’s CFO had been checking her out. But why? He’d already given her the loan. Maggie couldn’t stop what had already happened.

  “Not that it matters,” she told herself. But it was curious.

  • • •

  Was it wrong to love a grape? Brenna hoped not, because she had a serious case of hero worship for her Pinots.

  She stood just off a gravel road, on the edge of her perfectly wonderful four acres. To the west stretched the Pacific Ocean for as far as the eye could see. To the east were the foothills, and tucked in between was paradise.

  She knew there were those who thought that land this incredible would be wasted on something like grapes when dozens of million-dollar homes could have been built here, but Brenna considered those kind of people not only shortsighted but lacking a soul.

  She crouched down by a mature vine and studied the well-shaped clusters.

  Did it get any better than this? The grapes had ripened evenly. They were plump and rich in color. She could smell the promise of their flavor, and when she picked a single grape and bit into it, she actually moaned. Another day, maybe two, and then they would be ready to pick. She was going to kick butt with this harvest.

  As she stood, she heard something in the distance. She recognized the rumble of a motorcycle, but even as her body went on alert and her thighs heated, she told herself that hundreds of people rode motorcycles on this narrow coastal road and that she was a fool if she allowed herself to think it might be Nic. It was the middle of harvest, for heaven’s sake. The man had better things to do than ride up like some leather-clad sex god just to jump-start her motor.

  Unfortunately the thought of him got her heart pounding the way it did those rare afternoons she dragged her ample backside to aerobics class. Did that mean being around him constituted an actual workout? Could she start the next exercise craze? The Nic Giovanni workout plan? Think about sex with Nic for twenty minutes a day and lose ten pounds a month? If only. All she got from thinking about Nic was unbearably horny.

  She told herself to stop staring at the road and pay attention to the grapes she’d come to admire, but she couldn’t make herself turn away until she’d actually watched the non-Nic person ride by. Maybe she would even wave.

  The motorcycle rounded the bend and she was able to see the driver. The helmet did nothing to disguise the rider’s familiar features. Okay, so it was Nic. That didn’t mean he was going to stop…did it?

  Before she could decide, he pulled up behind her car and turned off the engine. The sound of the waves was audible again, along with the call of the seagulls. Brenna told herself that she should take this opportunity to be one with nature. Instead she watched as he took off his helmet. Sunlight brought out the brown highlights in his dark hair and emphasized his tanned arms. He looked as if he’d walked out of a movie poster for a 1950s bad-boy movie. White T-shirt, black jeans, motorcycle boots. Where was a poodle skirt when you needed one?

  “I had a feeling you’d be here,” he said as he set his helmet on the seat and started toward her. “Escrow closed today and I knew you couldn’t resist gloating over your purchase.”

  He’d come looking for her? Wow.

  “I’ll admit to having a moment or two with my grapes,” she said.

  “How are they?”

  She waved out a hand. “Take a look. You’ll kick yourself for thinking the lot was too small to bother with.”

  He raised his eyebrows, then turned his attention to the tidy rows of grapevines. He walked in a couple of paces, then crouched to examine the grapes.

  It was close to sunset. Rather than stare at Nic, or his spectacular behind, she turned her attention to the western horizon, where the sun sank toward the edge of the sea. Already the heat of the day had faded from this patch of land.

  “Not bad,” Nic admitted when he walked over to stand next to her. “They’re nearly ripe.”

  “You forgot perfect. Did you see the color? How plump they are?”

  “You got lucky. I don’t understand why they sold this land to you for pennies when they could have gotten millions from a developer.”

  Brenna hadn’t paid pennies; buying these four acres had taken a chunk of her loan, but she also knew that she’d gotten an amazing deal.

  “It’s about the wine. They didn’t want this land to become another exclusive development community. I had to promise to only grow grapes on this land for at least ten years.”

  He stared at her. “You’re kidding. You had to promise?”

  She nodded.

  “Is it in writing.”

  “No, and it doesn’t have to be. I’ll keep my word. They understood what I was trying to do.”

  “They’re idiots.”

  “No, they’re committed.”

  “If they’re not, they should be.”

  Brenna tried not to smile, but she couldn’t help grinning. “You’re such a businessman. Pragmatic, unfeeling, only interested in the bottom line.”

  “Yeah, right. And you’re the wine-making genius.”

  “Thank you.”

  “I was being sarcastic.”

  “I prefer to pretend you were serious and offering me a compliment.”

  “Figures.”

  Nic watched the breeze tug at Brenna’s hair. The shoulder-length style was different from the waist-length hair she’d had as a teenager. While he liked them both, the longer hair was more erotic. There had been plenty of times when he’d felt the silky ends trailing down his belly as she’d—

  He consciously slammed the door to that particular memory. Instead he searched for a distraction. When he found it, he had a hard time keeping his face straight as he anticipated the explosion.


  “Too bad the rows are so close together,” he said casually. “If they were farther apart, you wouldn’t have to pick the grapes by hand.”

  As he expected, Brenna turned on him with all the intensity of a mama bear protecting her only cub.

  “There is absolutely no way in hell I would let a machine on this land. I know you’re in favor of anything that saves money, but I’m more interested in getting it right than getting it cheap.”

  Her eyes flashed fire as she spoke. She planted her hands on her hips, glaring at him as if he’d just spit on her shoes. She was insulted, ill-tempered, and more than ready to take him on. Damn if she didn’t look sexy as hell.

  The more she glared, the more his blood heated. He thought about pulling her close and kissing her, but the last time he’d done that, he hadn’t been able to sleep for two days. The wanting had been relentless. Worse, it had been specific. He hadn’t been interested in finding someone else to scratch his itch. For reasons he didn’t understand, the need had only been about Brenna, not just about getting laid.

  “How are you going to get them picked in time?” he asked. “You haven’t had time to line up a crew.”

  “I’m calling in a few favors. I’ll do some of the work myself. It will get done.”

  He didn’t doubt that. Brenna was nothing if not determined.

  Some of the annoyance faded from her expression. She dropped her hands to her sides and tilted her head. “Guess who I met the other day?”

  He shrugged. “I have no idea.”

  “Your CFO.”

  “How’d you run into Maggie?”

  “She ran into me. She said she wanted to put a face to the name.”

  So Maggie had kept her word about meeting Brenna. Had she gotten her questions answered? “Maggie was impressed by the amount of money I loaned you. I’m not usually such a soft touch.”

  “Is that what it’s called?” she asked.

  “Do you have any complaints?”

  She considered the question. “Can I get back to you on that?”

  “Sure.”

  He glanced at the setting sun and knew that he should be heading back home. He had books to go over and a meeting with one of his managers. But he found himself reluctant to leave.