Susan Mallery - Seductive One

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.

“I’m still working on my great-grandmother’s diary,” he said.

“How’s that going?”

“I spend more time looking up words in the dictionary than translating, but I’m making progress.” He glanced at her. “I could have it all wrong, but from what I can figure out, Sophia was in love with Antonio Marcelli.”

Brenna stared at him. “No way.”

He nodded. “That’s what I thought, too, but it’s all there in the diary. There’s some mention of Antonio leaving for America and how much she missed him. He told her he would be back for her and asked her to wait.”

“Did she agree?”

“I think so.”

Brenna frowned. “Then how did she end up married to Salvatore, and why didn’t she marry Antonio and come here with him?”

“He didn’t get back in time. The Marcelli family wasn’t as respected as the Giovanni family, which is why her father was reluctant to let her marry Antonio and go off with him.”

“You’re making that up.”

“Would I lie to you?”

“If you thought it would bug me.”

He chuckled. “All right, but this time I’m not. She waited for Antonio to return for her, but he didn’t. When Salvatore came back, talking about his success and asking for Sophia’s hand in marriage, her father agreed.”

“She wasn’t consulted?”

He shook his head.

Brenna rolled her eyes. “That is just so typical. Let me guess. They got married and Antonio showed up the next day.”

“Just about. She tried to put off the wedding, but her parents wouldn’t let her. The night before her wedding, she vowed to put her love for Antonio behind her and swore she would be a good wife.”

Brenna shook her head. “I never heard about any of this. Do you think Sophia is the reason for the feud? Did the two friends fight about loving her or something?”

“It can’t be that. Sophia and Salvatore married in the late 1920s. Salvatore and Antonio went to Europe during the Second World War to collect the European cuttings. They grew fine for a couple of years before the Marcelli vines died out and Antonio accused Salvatore of destroying them. Who would wait over fifteen years for revenge? From what I’ve heard about my great-grandfather, Salvatore wasn’t the patient type. If he’d suspected something, he would have taken care of business a whole lot earlier.”

“Good point. Still, it’s very strange.” Brenna looked at him. “I wonder what would have happened if Antonio had married Sophia.”

“Neither of us would have existed.”

She sighed. “Families are so complicated. My grandfather is getting completely weird on me. Your parents walked out when you were still a kid and-” She pressed her lips together. “Sorry. I know you don’t like to talk about your folks.”

He swore. Once, years ago, he’d made the mistake of telling what had happened with his parents. He’d admitted his ambivalence. How he’d refused to miss them, yet couldn’t help wondering what would have been different if they’d stuck around. Brenna had understood. She’d held him and somehow being in her arms had eased the confusion. He’d trusted her. Not a smart move, considering what had happened later.

Silence stretched between them. Nic glanced at his watch. He was going to be late for his meeting. He should-

“Did I tell you Francesca and Katie are having a double wedding?” Brenna asked in what he guessed was an attempt to change the subject. “It’s going to be over Thanksgiving. Things should be interesting, what with Francesca being pregnant and all. At least we know she and Sam are a fertile couple. Anyway, because that’s not enough work, they’re having a double engagement party, too. It’s gotten to the point where I’m afraid to walk into the house. If everyone isn’t knee-deep in beading lace, there are tastings for various menu selections and arguments about invitations. I think they should just elope.”

“Unlikely.”

“Tell me about it. I work all day for my grandfather and then all night on my new business. I’m exhausted, which means when I bead lace for the wedding gowns everyone is making, I end up sticking myself. It’s not fun.”

“You’ll enjoy the party.”

“If I’m awake for it.”

She shoved her hands into her back pockets, which made her chest stick out. He tried not to notice.

“It’s the family stuff,” she said. “Sometimes I think it’s really twisted, but it’s a part of who I am. I can’t seem to escape it.”

“I remember.”

She winced. “Sorry.”

“No problem. I can see that very little has changed.”

Her gaze narrowed. “That’s not fair.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

It had always been true. Family was the most important thing in Brenna’s life. He would bet that wasn’t different. In fact, to prove it, if only to himself, he would conduct an experiment to see exactly how far he could push her before she snapped.

“Are you taking anyone?” he asked.

“As in a date?” She laughed. “That would require a social life, which I don’t have. Not that I’m complaining. I would rather have the beginnings of a winery than a man.”

“On behalf of my gender, thanks for the compliment.”

“You know what I mean.”

He did, but that wasn’t important. “If you’re not seeing anyone, then you could invite me.”

Invite Nic? Brenna blinked several times. Invite Nic? Sure. Of course. She didn’t have a date and he was available. It was the perfect solution.

Not.

Take Nic? A Giovanni? Great-grandson of the hated Salvatore Giovanni? She stared at him, unable to think of a single thing to say. He couldn’t be serious. He had to know that it was impossible. He had to remember-

She sucked in a breath. Of course he remembered and maybe that was the point. All those years ago she had been so worried about what her family would think if they knew she was involved with Nic. He’d wanted her to tell them, to declare her feelings for him. She’d wanted that, too-sort of. But she’d been afraid of what they would say. Of what would happen. The reality had terrified her.

It might have been ten years, but she could still feel that cold fear swirling in her stomach.

The humor faded from Nic’s face. “Don’t sweat it. I was kidding.”

Was he? She still didn’t know what to say. “It’s not going to be a really big party,” she blurted out. “Just family and friends.”

Oh, right. That had certainly made things all better. What? If there were going to be a lot of strangers there, she would be more comfortable inviting him?

She reached out to touch his arm. “Nic, I’m-”

“I know. Whatever.” He glanced at his watch. “I’m late for a meeting.” He jerked his head toward the grapes. “Congratulations. You picked a winner.”

He walked to his motorcycle and pulled on his helmet. Before she could think of a single rational, intelligent explanation for how she was acting, he was gone.

“That went well,” she muttered and kicked at the dirt.

What was going on here? Was Nic actually serious about going to the party with her? They weren’t seeing each other-not in the dating sense. She wasn’t sure she would even categorize their relationship as “friendship.” They had business dealings and more sexual chemistry than should be legal, but little else. She sighed. Okay, they had a past that would make a soap-opera writer jealous, but no one was talking about that.

She turned toward the road and stared at the bend where Nic had disappeared. Telling herself to forget the whole thing wasn’t going to work, mostly because she found herself wanting to take him to the party.

How strange was that? Did she think that one family social event would make up for all she’d done-or not done-in the past?

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she said firmly.

She crossed to her car and pulled open the door. If she didn’t know better she would have sworn he’d been playing with her when he’d first mentioned going to the party, but something had changed. It was almost as if her inability to say yes had hurt him.

No way. Nic hurt by her? Now? Right.

Except he’d almost looked…wounded.

She slid into her car and pulled the door shut. What was going on? Were they both experiencing flashbacks? Were the blasts from the past confusing an already complicated situation?

Until she and Nic had met up again, she had believed with every fiber of her being that she was long over him. That what they’d once had didn’t matter. After close contact of the Nic kind, she knew better. There were some things that simply didn’t go away, regardless of the passage of time. Those life-altering moments lingered, and Lord knew that every second with Nic had changed her life.

Talk about a complication. If only she could forget the past, things would be a lot easier between them. Forgetting Nic would be-

Impossible, she thought. Even if it was smart, she didn’t want to. She liked that they’d been young and in love. She liked that he had been her first time. She liked remembering how his hands had trembled when he’d undressed her and how his dark eyes had promised to make everything perfect between them.

And he had. He’d been tender and caring. She could still see the expression on his face as he’d entered her. He’d been much more experienced, but he’d lost it in about thirty seconds after declaring it had never been like that for him before.

She remembered the first time he’d told her he loved her. They’d been sitting out in the vineyards on a warm summer night. The stars had bathed them with a soft, sparkly light as they’d made love on an old blanket. Afterward, Nic had pulled her to her feet. They’d both still been naked and she’d shivered a little. He’d touched her face, her shoulders, her breasts, and had kissed each of her palms. Then he’d placed her hand on his chest, right over his heart.

“I love you, Brenna,” he said, his expression intense, his voice thick with emotion. “I’ve wanted to tell you for a long time, but I wanted to wait until the perfect moment. I’ll love you forever. With my heart, my mind, and my body.”

She’d started to cry and he’d held her. Finally she’d managed to whisper that she loved him, too. For always. At seventeen, eternity had seemed possible.

Brenna turned off the coastal road and headed back for the hacienda. She had to blink against the burning in her eyes as she recalled Nic leaving to go back to college. She’d done her best to be brave. He’d been so sensible, promising that he would love her but saying he wasn’t going to tie her down. He wanted her to enjoy her senior year of high school.

She’d known what he’d meant. She’d been free to date other guys, none of whom had interested her. How could they? She was in love with Nic.

The year had crawled by. They’d managed to steal a few hours together over Christmas, but nothing after that. He’d been working and unable to get away more. Brenna had been so afraid he wouldn’t still love her come the summer. They’d met out in the vineyards, at a prearranged time. She’d practiced acting casual in case he told her he didn’t love her anymore.