The Seductive One

Page 25

“What I really think is that I’m glad I’m an only child.”
Mia huffed out a breath. “Oh, please. I’m the best sister. I’m newly single and I’m not in school for a few more weeks. This is my time to cut loose and be wild. Once classes start, I have to be all mature and stuff. So if I can’t do the Navy SEAL thing for a while, how about a ride on your motorcycle?”
He removed her hand from his arm. “You accused me of being trouble, but you’re the one who needs watching.”
Her lips curved. “Really? You like to watch?”
He took a step back. “Don’t go there, Mia. I’m not for you.”
“Does that mean you’re for Brenna?” She laughed. “Never mind. I know you’re not going to answer that. Come on. You can dance with me until my sister returns to rescue you.”
He glanced toward the couples already on the dance floor, then back to the eighteen-year-old sex kitten in front of him. “No slow dances.”
She sighed heavily. “Fine. No touching. What is it with you older guys? You’re all so uptight.”
“Not uptight. Afraid. We’re all very afraid.”
Brenna kicked off her shoes and shifted on the top step of the porch. It was well after two and while she knew she had to get back home, she didn’t want to leave. Not that she wanted to stay. Being around Nic made her nervous.
She stared up at the night sky. They were far enough away from any large city for the stars to be visible. Hundreds of lights twinkled like rhinestones on black velvet.
“Mia needs a keeper,” Nic muttered.
Brenna chuckled. “Probably. I think she completely freaked out Joe.”
“She told me she wanted to meet his friends. She’s only eighteen.”
“Mia has always been older than her years. Don’t forget, she’s been in college since she was sixteen and she’s been engaged. She’s way more worldly than I was at her age.”
“One day someone is going to take her up on one of her blatant offers, and then where will she be?”
Brenna turned to look at the man sitting next to her. “In someone’s bed.”
He flinched. “We’re talking about your baby sister.”
“So? Her relationship to me doesn’t prevent her having sex.”
Nic glanced at her. “You okay?”
“About Mia? I’m fine.”
“Not about Mia. About Joe.”
“Oh, that. Can I say I don’t want to talk about it?”
“Sure.”
She thought about all that had happened. “His arrival changes everything. He’s interested in inheriting. Who wouldn’t be? It’s a lot of money.”
“Your grandfather hasn’t left him anything yet. Maybe you should wait to panic.”
She glanced at him and managed a smile. “Oh, sure. Be rational. So like a guy.”
He shrugged. “I mean it, Brenna. Lorenzo may be old-fashioned, but he’s not an idiot. Why would he leave everything to someone who knows nothing about the business?”
She desperately wanted to believe Nic, and in a way, what he said made sense. “Okay. I’ll try to calm down.”
“Good.”
She sighed. “Mia told me my grandfather tried to take you on.”
“She’s exaggerating.”
“I’m sorry if the situation got ugly.”
“We discussed the feud, taking opposite sides, of course. Don’t worry. I can take care of myself.”
She didn’t doubt that. Nic was more than capable.
“It’s been quite an evening,” she said as she pulled her legs to her chest and rested her arms on her knees. “So what did you think? This was your first Marcelli party and all.”
“Plenty of surprises. Your brother showing up was unique entertainment.”
“Tell me about it. I hope we don’t have an even bigger surprise at the double wedding.”
They were sitting close enough that when he moved, his shoulder brushed against hers. In the still night she could almost hear him breathing. Her skin prickled with awareness.
“We have to talk about it,” he said.
Oh, no they didn’t. “I’m not sure I have the emotional energy to deal with one more thing.”
“We didn’t use any birth control.”
Those six words exploded in her brain. Brenna swore under her breath. No way. That wasn’t possible. She was more responsible than that. Never once in her life, not even all those years ago when she’d been so in love with Nic had she ever allowed herself to be so swept away that she didn’t even think about birth control.
She straightened her legs and crossed her arms over her midsection. Talk about going from sexual interest to horrified panic in less than fifteen seconds. Thank God for modern science and birth control pills.
“There aren’t health issues with me,” he continued. “But there are other considerations.”
He sounded remarkably calm. In his position she would have been shrieking.
“I’m on the Pill,” she told him hastily. “I meant to go off it after Jeff and I separated, but my doctor warned me I would have mood swings. With all the stuff going on with my grandfather and the winery, followed by my decision to start my own winery, this didn’t seem like a good time to be emotionally unstable.”
He glanced at her. “You don’t have to justify being on the Pill to me. I’m not in a position to complain.”
“I guess not.”
Now that he’d brought it up, she had no choice but to remember everything they’d done and how fast it had all happened. One second they’d been talking and the next clothes were flying and bodies joining. Her insides quivered at the memory.
“We always did have that effect on each other,” she said, not looking at him as she spoke. “I would have thought we’d outgrown it.”
“Apparently not.”
She couldn’t tell from his tone if he thought that was a good thing or a bad thing.
“I try to keep my business life and personal life separate,” he said.
She cleared her throat. “We have a lot of history. Between working together after all this time and our past, it was probably just one of those things.”
“I’m sure it was.”
Damn. That was not the answer she wanted. She wanted their close encounter of the intimate kind to have meant something to him. If the passion was still alive, didn’t that mean that other things from their past could be lurking under the surface? Did she want that?
“Women frequently view me as a sex object, so what happened tonight isn’t a surprise.”
She laughed. “Excuse me?”
He smiled confidently. “Women want me.”
“As in there’s a herd of them roaming the world, lusting after your person?”
“The women in my office think I have a great butt. Maggie told me.”
“I’m amazed there’s room for you and your ego in the same room.”
“Hey, I didn’t make this up. I’m just passing along the information.”
“As I hate being part of a crowd, I’ll do my best to rein in my baser instincts.”
“Don’t do it on my account.”
She wasn’t sure if that was an invitation or more teasing. Not that she wasn’t tempted, but she’d already played with fire once this evening. She should probably stop while she was unscathed and give thanks that she got off easy.
She stood. “It’s time for me to head home. I’ll leave you to deal with your fan club.”
“What if I made you president? You’d be great at the job.”
“Only if it paid enough to make a dent in my loan to you.”
He rose and followed her to the car. Once there, he opened the door and she slid inside. She rolled down the window, then closed the door.
He leaned close and touched her cheek. “It just happened,” he said. “We’re adults. We can handle it.”
She nodded. The truth was she didn’t know if she could handle it, but she didn’t have much choice.
He grinned. “It was a hell of a party.”
“Hey, I know how to show a guy a good time.” She started the engine. “See you, Nic.”
“Drive safely.”
He straightened and stepped back. She put the car in gear and headed down the driveway. Toward home. Yet she felt as if she’d left a part of herself behind.
12
Brenna stood beside the truck and randomly picked up bunches of Cabernet grapes. After inspecting the color to make sure they had ripened evenly, she picked off a grape and tasted the fruit.
The foreman of the picking crew watched her. She let the rich flavors settle on her tongue, then swallowed.
“Just right,” she said.
Ramón smiled. “I told you. Wait one more day and the grapes will be perfect.”
She grinned. “You said wait one more day because you were still working at Wild Sea.”
He shrugged. “Nic wanted more handpicked than he’d first said.”
Brenna would like to think that was her influence, but she had her doubts. Nic’s idea of a perfect vineyard would be one that was completely mechanized. Imagine the profit margin if no human ever had to get involved in the process from planting to slapping the label on the bottle.
Not that she planned to tell him any of that to his face. She still owed him for what he’d told her the night of the party. That her grandfather wasn’t crazy enough to leave the winery to a stranger.
Nic’s words made sense and she clung to them with all her strength. So far they’d allowed her to relax enough to get on with her life. Not that she had much choice in that.
She waved the truck in and stepped back to let it drive into the courtyard, where dozens of workers stood ready to unload the baskets of grapes. While Ramón discussed the yield per acre, she made notes. The sun was high in the sky, the afternoon warm. Perfect harvesting weather. The seven-day forecast didn’t show any rain. If that held true, they could be finished with the Cabs by next Wednesday. This was turning out to be a very good year.
Humming to herself, she pulled several baskets off the truck, then climbed onto the flatbed and picked several clusters of grapes from baskets toward the front. The dark purple color made her smile. Ramón’s crew knew their business.
“How ever much you’re paying him it’s too much,” her grandfather called as he came around the corner of the winery.
Brenna jumped off the truck. She hadn’t seen her grandfather since the party the previous Saturday. Work had kept her busy. It wasn’t as if she was actually avoiding him…well, not too much.
As her grandfather picked a handful of grapes from the baskets being carried inside, she braced herself for the inevitable criticism. Lorenzo Marcelli was all backslapping good humor with Ramón, but Brenna wasn’t fooled. He would taste the grapes and then turn on her with one complaint or another.
“Good harvest,” he said mildly.
She nodded.
“We’ll bottle more this year than we did last year.”
She nodded again.
“You dishonored the family. Last Saturday was about your sisters. You brought an enemy into this house and turned all the attention on yourself.”
Brenna didn’t know what to say to that. The accusation was so unfair that words failed her. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t finished with her.
“Do you know who that boy is? Do you know what his family did to us?”
For a second Brenna was so caught up in Nic being called a boy that she didn’t catch the rest of it. But when her grandfather’s words sank in, she threw down her clipboard and planted her hands on her hips.
“I know exactly who Nicholas Giovanni is, Grandfather. Not only did I grow up next door to him, but you’ve told us all the story of the great grapevine scandal so many times, I could recite it in my sleep. And you know what? I don’t care.”