The Seductive One Read online

  “One down, the rest of the clan left to go,” she whispered. “Of course she’s going to want an explanation later. Any ideas on what I should tell her?”

  “That you’re hot for my body and think nothing of seducing me at a moment’s notice?”

  “Bite me.”

  He grinned. “When and where?”

  Brenna’s gaze narrowed, but before she could snap at him, Colleen reached for his hand again. “There’s Marco. Come along. I’ll introduce you.” She smiled at her daughter. “I won’t keep him long.”

  Brenna waved her hand. “Keep him for as long as you want. I won’t mind a bit.”

  He glanced back and mouthed “liar” as Colleen led him away to introduce him to their guests.

  Marco Marcelli concealed his surprise better than his wife had, but he was just as gracious. Family friends from the area were obviously shocked to see him on Marcelli land, but they smiled politely. Nic figured there would be more than one midnight call about the party.

  The grandmothers were reserved, Tessa Marcelli more so than Mary-Margaret O’Shea. Still, they welcomed him. Nic wondered if they would be so friendly if they knew that he and Brenna had once planned to run away together.

  He knew what their reaction would be if they figured out he was going to use every means at his disposal to buy Marcelli Wines. But he understood that. If the situation were reversed, he would be just as furious.

  Nic found himself an observer rather than a participant in the evening. He’d known about the Marcellis all his life. His grandfather had talked about the family, he’d run into them at local events, passed them in the post office. But except for Brenna, he’d never spoken to them. Now they were accepting him as one of their own.

  He’d always seen them as the enemy. Funny how they were turning out to be just regular people.

  “I’m Mia,” a young woman said, slipping between Nic and Colleen. “The youngest, the smartest, the most fun. And you’re Nic Giovanni.”

  “I know.”

  Mia grinned. Streaks of blond lightened her dark hair. She wore a strapless dress that barely came to mid-thigh and high heels that looked expensive and dangerous. Heavy makeup emphasized her big eyes and full lips. She was Lolita at eighteen.

  Mia took his hand in hers and brought his arm around behind her so he rested his palm on her hip. “Everyone is talking, but then you expected that.”

  “It’s not a big surprise.”

  “You like making trouble.”

  He thought about the trouble he and Brenna had made early that evening. “Sometimes.”

  Mia placed her fingers on his chest. “All my sisters had wild crushes on you when they were growing up, even me. Of course, I’m the only one who will admit it.”

  “I’m flattered.”

  Her brown eyes crinkled at the corners. “But not shocked.”

  “No.”

  “Do you have the hots for my sister?”

  Before he could decide on a politically correct answer to a charged question, he heard a low murmur of voices behind him. He disentangled himself from Mia and turned to find Lorenzo Marcelli stalking toward him.

  “Who let you in?” Lorenzo demanded. Anger and insult pulsed in every word.

  Suddenly Marco was at Nic’s side. “Nic is a guest.”

  Lorenzo moved closer. “He wasn’t invited. No Giovanni would ever be invited.”

  “He’s with Brenna.”

  A muscle twitched in the old man’s cheek. He muttered something in Italian, something Nic couldn’t catch or translate, then turned and moved away.

  Marco put a hand on Nic’s shoulder. “You’ll have to excuse my father. He’s an old man. Very stubborn. For him the feud between our families lives on.”

  Nic glanced at Lorenzo as he disappeared into the crowd, then turned back to Marco. “I’m glad you don’t agree with him.”

  Marco smiled. “It was sixty years ago. I have trouble remembering last week.” He dropped his hand and held open his arm. “Here comes your date.”

  Nic saw Brenna approaching.

  “I heard the thunder of disapproval clear across the lawn,” she said. “Did he say anything awful?”

  “Nothing unexpected,” Nic said. “I’m an intruder.”

  “Termites are an intruder. You’re a welcome guest,” Marco told him. “We will have dinner soon. You’ll eat, you’ll talk, you’ll enjoy.”

  Brenna smiled at her father. “You sound like Grandma Tessa.”

  Marco winced. “Don’t tell me I sound like an old woman.”

  He kissed her cheek and stepped away. Brenna pulled Nic to the edge of the crowd. “How’s it going? Is it too awful?”

  “Everyone is being very gracious.”

  “Except my grandfather.”

  “I didn’t expect anything different.”

  “Me, either. I wonder if he’ll fire me.”

  Nic raised his eyebrows. “Are you serious?”

  “No.” She sank into a chair. “He’ll be crabby for a few days, but nothing more. I saw my mom introducing you to people.”

  “She’s been very nice.” He took the seat next to hers. “Mia said all your sisters had crushes on me.”

  Brenna rolled her eyes. “Great. Like you need an ego boost. I gotta tell you, Nic, you’re not as hot as all that.”

  He leaned close. “Yes, I am. Do I need to remind you what we were doing—”

  She cut him off with a frantic shake of her head. “Don’t say anything. My grandmothers could hear. Do you know how completely creepy that would be?”

  “Okay, I don’t want the old ladies knowing, either.”

  She looked at him. “Is this too weird? Being here like this? I mean I never invited you before.”

  Before. When they’d been desperately in love. When belonging had mattered as much as loving her.

  “It’s not what I expected,” he admitted. “I didn’t think I’d like your family.”

  “But you do?”

  “Most of them.”

  Not that his feelings would make him change his mind about buying. Liking or not liking didn’t affect business decisions.

  Katie and her fiancé joined them. Nic listened to the conversation more than he participated. Most of his attention was captured by the lands around the hacienda. The sun had fully set and most of the view was in shadows, but he could make out rows of vines stretching into the distance.

  Behind them were the winery buildings, and the tasting room beyond that. Marcelli Wines was smaller than Wild Sea. Smaller, but more prestigious. Once they were a part of his holdings, he would have achieved everything he wanted. He would be the best. It was all here, within his grasp.

  • • •

  Dinner was the blur of courses that Brenna had promised. Colleen had rearranged the seating, putting Nic on her right and Brenna next to him. Lorenzo was at a different table, with his back to them.

  “Save room for dessert,” Brenna said, leaning close to speak in his ear. “The Grands outdid themselves with this amazing cake they make. The cream filling is probably illegal, it’s so good.” She sighed. “I’ve been living here since March. I don’t dare get my cholesterol checked. As for dieting, forget it.”

  His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he instantly remembered them bare and filling his hands. The memory expanded to include the sight of her, naked, flushed with need and riding him with an abandon that had left him so hard, he practically winced with pain. As far as he was concerned, there wasn’t a damn thing wrong with her body, except that it was too clothed and they weren’t alone.

  He reached for his wine. The full-bodied Cabernet did nothing to stop the flow of blood south. In three seconds he was shifting uncomfortably in his seat.

  He still hadn’t figured out how making love with Brenna fit in with his plan. His first thought had been that while it had been great, they probably shouldn’t do it again. But on second thought…

  He reached for her hand and slid it across his thigh un
til her fingers encountered his erection. She looked at him, her eyes wide, her mouth slightly parted.

  “What’s that all about?” she asked in a whisper.

  He pressed his lips to her ear. “You naked, riding me to hell and back.”

  She swallowed and pulled her hand free. “We can’t talk about this. My mother is right next to you.”

  “I know. That makes it more exciting.”

  She reached for her water glass. “You’re nothing but trouble.”

  He leaned close again. “Tell me you’re not wet and I’ll shut up.”

  She took a drink of water, deliberately turned her back, and started speaking with the man on her other side. Nic chuckled. While Brenna was pretending to ignore him, he ran his finger down her spine. He was rewarded by a slight shiver and goose bumps breaking out on her arm.

  Nearly an hour later, as the plates were being cleared, Marco stood up. The crowd quieted. He picked up a microphone from a stand by the table and walked to the front of the tent.

  “I would like to thank all of you for coming to help our family celebrate. Engagements and weddings are always special, but Italian weddings”—he grinned—“they’re events.”

  Everyone laughed.

  “The Marcelli family has a long, proud history.”

  Marco outlined the founding of the winery, omitting any reference to the connection with the Giovanni family or the feud that had occurred. As Nic listened, he glanced at those in attendance. Lorenzo had turned his chair to face his son, but never glanced in Nic’s direction. Mia winked when he caught her eye and Katie smiled. Even Grandma Tessa raised a glass of wine in his direction.

  His plan to buy Marcelli Wines had been born nearly ten years ago. Except for Brenna, the Marcellis had been faceless enemies. He’d never connected them with people he might come to know.

  He told himself nothing had changed. So what if he’d met them? Was he going to walk away from years of hard work just because he’d been treated well at a party? He was a man who went after what he wanted, and he wanted Marcelli Wines. End of story.

  But he had the uneasy feeling that despite his conviction, something had changed. Something he couldn’t define or even explain.

  He shook off the thought and returned his attention to Marco.

  “My daughters, Katie and Francesca. I would ask that you raise your glasses to toast them and the fine men they will marry. To my—”

  A loud gasp from Colleen silenced him. Beside him, Brenna turned to see what had shocked her mother.

  “I can’t believe it,” she said with delight and got to her feet. “He’s here.”

  Nic frowned. He saw a man walking toward the gathering. He was tall and casually dressed, with a duffel bag slung over one shoulder.

  Brenna walked toward him, which got Nic on his feet and moving toward her. The man stopped in the light of a hanging lantern. Nic knew he’d never seen the guy before, but his features were oddly familiar.

  “Seems like my timing is off,” the stranger said to Brenna as she approached.

  “Only if you weren’t planning on making an entrance.”

  She was smiling and happy. Nic glared. So who the hell was this asshole and how did he know Brenna?

  11

  Brenna had figured the day’s roller-coaster events had peaked when she’d brought Nic to the party. But she’d been wrong. The fun just kept on coming, this time in the unexpected arrival of her long-lost brother.

  She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been this confused about one person. Joe Larson could destroy her hopes and dreams with a single sentence. She should hate him. Yet she didn’t. She was actually happy to see him, in a twisted, ambivalent, why-was-this-happening sort of way.

  “Have any trouble finding the place?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Are you here for the money?”

  Joe grinned. “You cut right to the chase, don’t you? Maybe I’m interested in meeting my family more than collecting an inheritance.”

  “Are you?”

  He glanced at the watching crowd. “It’s more of a reception than I expected.”

  “An engagement party for two of my…our sisters. Francesca, the one you met with me, and Katie.”

  “How many of those folks are actual relatives?”

  “More than you’d think. At least you can meet them all at once.”

  Joe Larson, all six feet plus of Navy SEAL–honed muscle and brawn, actually took a step back. “Great.”

  “And a hundred of their closest friends.”

  “You know how to make a guy feel welcome.”

  “This can’t be worse than night ops in enemy territory.”

  His dark gaze settled on her face. His expression was unreadable, but she thought she might have seen wariness in his eyes. One corner of his mouth turned up. “Want to bet?”

  “Not really.” She turned toward the tables. “It’s Joe.”

  A whispered buzz swept through the crowd. Most of the guests wouldn’t know who Joe was, but her parents did, as did her sisters. Mia spilled the beans by popping to her feet and clapping her hands together.

  “That’s my brother?” she asked in obvious delight. “This is so cool.”

  “Mia,” Brenna murmured for Joe’s benefit. “She’s the baby of the family. Too smart for her own good and we all adore her. You met Francesca already, and the guy beside her is Sam, her fiancé. Katie is standing over there. Next to her is Zach, her fiancé. Grandpa Lorenzo is the fierce-looking old guy. His wife, Grandma Tessa, is next to him, and Grammy M is sitting with her date.”

  The Marcelli family walked slowly toward them. Brenna’s parents arrived first. Tears filled her mother’s eyes and her father looked stunned, which made sense. Outside of soap operas, events like this didn’t happen.

  Brenna cleared her throat. “So, everyone, this is Joe. Joe, my…um, make that our parents. Colleen and Marco Marcelli.”

  There was an awkward moment when no one moved. Finally Joe approached their father and held out his hand. They shook. Joe glanced anxiously at their mother, who continued to cry.

  “Are you all right, ma’am?”

  She blinked several times, then reached up and touched his face. “Is it really you?”

  Looking more than a little uncomfortable, he nodded. “I’m Joe Larson.”

  The Grands approached, along with Grandpa Lorenzo. Brenna’s sisters hovered in the background. Grandma Tessa pulled out her rosary.

  “God is blessing our family,” she whispered.

  Grandpa Lorenzo moved close and clutched Joe by the shoulders. “I see my father in you.”

  Brenna leaned close. “I haven’t seen pictures, so I can’t tell you if that’s a good thing or not.”

  Grandpa Lorenzo ignored her. “You are welcome, Joe Larson.” He frowned. “Joe. That isn’t right. You were to be named Antonio, after my father.”

  Joe winced. “Tough luck for me, huh?”

  There was a moment of silence, then everyone laughed. Grandma Tessa pushed her husband aside and reached up to pinch Joe’s cheek. Brenna was pleased when her macho brother flinched. Grandma Tessa had some power in her old fingers. Grammy M linked arms with her daughter. Katie and Mia approached for an introduction.

  Her mother took over, saying again and again, “This is my son.” Her father seemed content to simply smile at his firstborn.

  Brenna stepped back to watch the family interact with Joe. Despite what his existence meant to her, she’d liked him from the first moment she’d met him. Now he was here, and judging from the reaction, he would be welcomed with open arms.

  Not a surprise, she told herself as Grandpa Lorenzo moved close and spoke in low tones. No doubt the elder Marcelli was spelling out the possibilities of inheriting the winery. Only an idiot would turn down an inheritance like the Marcelli winery, and Joe didn’t look like a fool. She was going to lose everything, just because she didn’t have a penis.

  “We never meant to let
you go,” her mother was saying. She touched Joe’s arm over and over as if reassuring herself that he was really there. The Grands were pressing in, and Brenna realized that Joe had the trapped look of a cornered animal. Oddly, she felt responsible for him, which meant she should probably come to the rescue.

  “Okay, break it up,” she said, slipping between Joe and the family. “Give the guy a couple of minutes to catch his breath. I’m going to take him up to the house and get him settled. Why don’t the rest of you go satisfy the curiosity of our guests?”

  Her mother hesitated. Brenna leaned close and hugged her. “I won’t let him get away,” she whispered. “But I think there’s too many of us for a first meeting.”

  Their mother nodded. Tears filled her eyes again. “We’re happy you’re here.”

  Joe gave a clipped nod. “Thank you.”

  The “ma’am” was there at the end of the sentence, but silent. Brenna wondered if he would ever think of Colleen Marcelli as his mother.

  “I can come back in the morning,” he said. “We can, ah, talk.”

  “Come back?” Grandpa Lorenzo exclaimed, sounding outraged. “Where are you going?”

  “To a motel. I saw one not far from here.”

  Brenna winced. “You shouldn’t have said that.”

  She barely got the words out before conversation exploded.

  “You must stay here,” Grandma Tessa said forcefully. “You’re family.”

  “You’d be no trouble a’tall,” Grammy M informed him.

  “You getting away is so not going to happen,” Mia said with a grin.

  Brenna looked at Joe and shrugged. “Sometimes it’s just plain easier to give in.”

  “Sure. I guess I could stay for a while.”

  “Good plan,” she murmured.

  Joe picked up his duffel. Brenna glanced toward the tables and wondered if she should say something to Nic about joining him in a few minutes. Then Joe started toward the house and she hurried after him.

  Temporary staff filled the kitchen. Brenna collected a plate of food, a bottle of wine, and two glasses, then led the way into the dining room.

  “Take a load off,” she said, jerking her head toward the large table.