Susan Mallery - The Marcelli Bride

Francesca smiled at her. “They’re your Secret Service agents, right?”

“Two of many,” Darcy said with a shrug.

Francesca rocked Haley. “You must get tired of having so many people around.”

“Yeah,” Brenna said. “I had plenty of that when I lived here.”

Tessa bustled into the room and scowled at her granddaughter. “We’re your family, and you’re lucky to have us.”

Brenna grinned. “I love you, too, Grandma Tessa.”

The old woman’s face softened into a smile.

“Hey, back to my agenda,” Mia said. “Paige and Alex. I haven’t actually seen them doing anything, but there are plenty of longing glances. It makes me wonder what’s up. Darcy. You’re the person most likely to know.”

Everyone looked at her. Darcy held her mug of tea like a shield. “Time out. I don’t know anything. I’ve had Paige on my security team before, but I’ve only just met Alex. To be honest, he’s so by the book, I can’t imagine him with a woman.”

“Still waters,” Colleen said. “Men like that can surprise you.”

Brenna, Francesca, and Mia looked at one another, then Mia said, “Mom, if that is any reference to your sex life with Dad, I beg you to stop. No one here wants to know. Especially your daughters. Yuck.”

Colleen’s smile turned smug. “All right, girls, don’t freak out.”

“I’m totally freaked,” Brenna said. “What about you?”

Francesca nodded. “It’s an image I never want in my brain.”

“Alex and Paige,” Mia said. “Stay focused, people.”

Darcy looked at her. “I don’t understand. Do you want to help them get together?”

“Of course.” Mia sat up straighter. “I figure we can trick them into being alone together.”

Interesting plan, Darcy thought. “But they’re already sharing the guesthouse. Doesn’t that mean they’re alone together every night?”

“Oh.” Mia sank back onto the sofa. “Good point. I guess they don’t need our help. So, Darcy, what do you think of Joe?”

Darcy immediately sensed the danger of the situation. Still, she faced the other women bravely and decided the best defense and all that.

“He’s great. What can you tell me about his ex-wife?”

She’d expected a few murmurs about how lovely she was or maybe shrugs when they said they’d never met her. She didn’t expect stunned silence, followed by forty-seven questions at once.

“Married?” Brenna asked. “When did he get married?”

“There’s an ex-wife?” Francesca asked. “Do we know her?”

“Tell me she’s dead,” Grandma Tessa said as she pulled her beads out of her pocket. “Better that than a divorce.”

“I wonder if she’ll tell us what he looked like naked,” Mia mused.

Joe wandered into the kitchen in the late afternoon. He crossed to the refrigerator before he realized Tessa was at the stove. She looked up when he entered but didn’t say anything. Still, the hurt in her eyes was enough to make him feel like a slug.

Dammit, what was he supposed to say to her? He couldn’t give her what she wanted, but that didn’t give him the excuse to be cruel.

He crossed to her and gave her a hug. “I’m sorry about what I said.”

She held him with a fierceness that surprised him. “It’s been three years, Joseph.” She stepped back and stared up at him. “How long? When are we family?”

He didn’t know how to answer that. He wasn’t going to lie, but he didn’t want to hurt her again.

She was so small and frail-she didn’t even come to his shoulder. Funny how she seemed so much bigger when she was bustling in the kitchen or bringing a grown man to his knees with one of her deadly cheek pinches.

Finally she turned away. “I’ll make you some pasta,” she said. “You didn’t eat lunch. You must be hungry.”

His first instinct was to say no, but then he remembered what Darcy had told him. About food being love.

“I’d like that,” he said and was rewarded with a glowing smile.

“Sit, sit. You’ll have bread, too. And salad. Maybe some wine. You like the red, yes?”

“That would be great. Thanks.”

She served the food, poured the wine, then sat down across from him. Later he would swear she waited until he’d taken the first forkful of food and his mouth was full.

“So, Joseph. Tell me about your wife.”

Still feeling the need to hide out after inadvertently dropping a bombshell on the family, Darcy retreated to her room and picked up the secure phone that had been installed the second day of her visit. She dialed a familiar number and was connected with her father’s personal assistant.

“It’s Darcy,” she said. “Is he available?”

“No, honey. He’s in a meeting with China. Want me to interrupt?”

Darcy glanced at her watch. It was nearly five here, which made it close to eight in D.C. As per usual, her father was working late.

“No. That’s okay. Tell him…” What? That she missed him? That would make him laugh. “Tell him I called.”

“Will do. Are you okay? Having a good time?”

Darcy looked around the room, at the familiar furnishings and the view of the vineyard just beyond her window.

“I’m having a great time,” she said.

Darcy’s bedroom door opened without warning and Joe stalked inside. She was about to point out that he should at least pretend to knock-what if she’d been naked-when she saw the slight twitch in his cheek and something that looked amazingly like the need to squash, beat, or maim in his eyes.

She put down the book she’d been reading and held up both hands in a gesture that some might take to be surrender.

“You never said it was a secret,” she pointed out, speaking quickly. “It didn’t occur to me they didn’t know. I mean, come on. It’s been three years and you never bothered to mention to your family that you’d been married? That’s not my fault.”

He closed the door and walked to the bed. She thought about scooting over and patting the mattress in invitation but doubted that was why he was here.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice tight and clipped, which could be caused by his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell them.”

“And you didn’t say I shouldn’t say anything.”

“Right.”

“And you really should have mentioned it to them before this.”

He crossed to the single chair in the room and sank onto the cushion. “Apparently.”

“Are they hysterical?”

“Tessa’s done her rosary twice and is begging me to tell her that my ex is dead, because a dead wife is a whole lot better than divorce in her book. Grammy M and Colleen are hurt, and Brenna and Mia are mad. I haven’t talked with Marco or Lorenzo yet, but I’m sure they’ll give me an earful.”

He seemed surprised. Men, she thought. Sometimes they weren’t all that bright.

“They’re your family. You may not think of them as such, but they think of themselves that way. It’s not like you stubbed your toe and forgot to mention it. You were married. You had a whole other life.”

He shrugged. “I’m not married now. Haven’t been in a while.”

“What happened?” she asked. “I mean why did you guys split up?”

He stared at her without speaking. Darcy figured he was trying to intimidate her. While it kind of worked, she wanted to know more than she was afraid of him.

“It’s a logical question,” she told him. “You’d ask me the same thing if our positions were reversed.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. Your loss. So what happened?”

Joe leaned back in the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “She couldn’t handle me having to leave without any notice and being gone for months at a time. I’d warned her what it would be like, and she said it was fine. But hearing about it and living it were different. One time I came home and she was gone.”

Darcy’s heart cracked a little in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”

“It wasn’t one of my best moments.” He shrugged. “I got over her quicker than I should have, which says something about the state of our relationship, but I really missed the kids.”

“How many?”

“Two. Eight and ten. They were great,” he said with a smile that told her he had a lot of good memories. “Later, when I realized who I missed the most, I wondered if they were the real reason I’d wanted to get married. To have an instant family.”

As soon as the words were out, he straightened, getting all stiff, as if he regretted the confession.

He’d wanted children in his life? She never would have guessed.

“That’s just so sad,” she told him.

“Whatever. I got over it.” He looked at her. “My family doesn’t need to know about the kids.”

“Not a problem. I won’t say anything. I didn’t mean to spill secrets about your divorce.”

“I know. I should have told them myself.”

But he hadn’t. Knowing him as she did, she could guess why. But what didn’t make sense was why he’d told her.

Shortly after midnight, Alex found himself walking restlessly through the small guesthouse. He should have been getting some sleep. He wasn’t on duty, and come morning there would be plenty to do. But he wasn’t sleepy and the light still shining under Paige’s door beckoned him like a siren’s call.

She’d changed, he acknowledged. Softened, but not in a way that interfered with her doing her job. In that respect, she was as focused as always. She seemed more balanced, more connected with people. The drive had faded, maybe disappeared. He would have bet on her staying as career driven as she’d been when he’d first met her, and it pissed him off that the change was due to another man.

He paused outside of her door and put his hand on the knob. Going in would be stupid and weak. Better to walk away. He’d managed to forget about her once before. In fact, after they’d split up and gone their separate ways, he’d barely thought about her at all. So what was the big deal now? He could-

He knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. Paige sat on her bed, reading. There was a glass of wine on the nightstand and soft music playing in the background.

She raised her eyebrows. “It’s a little late for business,” she said. “And we’re officially off duty.”

“I know.”

He started to back out of the room, but she gestured to the open bottle of wine on the dresser. “Help yourself,” she told him.

There was a second glass on the tray. Had she been expecting company? Expecting him?

After pouring himself a glass of chardonnay, he moved to the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and sank down.

“The assignment’s going well,” he said into the silence.

Paige closed her book and set it beside her. She wore the same pajamas he’d seen her in before. A tank top over loose pants. No bra. The curve of her breast was clearly visible, as was the slight pucker of her nipple.

She picked up her wine and took a sip. “I agree. Darcy is relaxing, which is good. I had an interesting talk with Joe today. He thinks Darcy should receive some advanced self-defense training. Maybe get started in some form of martial arts. He also suggested I put together a workout program for her that will get her into some heavy weights.”

Alex wasn’t sure it would help. “She was taken by four men. Very few women would be able to stop that.”

“Agreed, but the training and additional strength would give her more of a sense of control. That might help her sleep at night.”

He worried more about the subject’s physical safety than her emotional state of mind. Still it couldn’t hurt.

“Whatever you want to do with her is fine with me,” he said.

“How thrilled I am to have my leader’s permission,” she said with a grin. “I know Darcy will do the dance of joy.”

He felt the teasing more than he should have. “Why were you telling me if not to get permission.”

“I was having a conversation, Alex. You might remember them.”

She thought he was too into the job. Not interesting enough. The assessment stung. He’d had to work his ass off to get his present assignment. She, of all people, should appreciate that.