“I’m s-sorry,” Brenna whispered.
“It’s okay. I’m here.”
I’m here. When had he ever said those words to a woman? When had he last offered comfort? The situation between himself and Brenna Marcelli was more than a little complicated, but he couldn’t think about that. At this moment she wasn’t the enemy. She was simply Brenna.
Slowly her sobs faded. The tears fell less often and her breathing grew more relaxed. He continued to stroke her hair, liking the fresh smell of her shampoo and the way she curled up against him. She was familiar in the best way possible.
When she straightened, her face was blotchy and her eyes swollen. He dropped his hands as she wiped her face with her fingers.
“Sorry,” she murmured, not looking him in the eye. “I didn’t mean to get all weird.”
“Not a problem.”
He handed her a handkerchief. She used it to mop up the last of her tears. Her mouth was swollen, as if she’d been kissing someone. As if they’d been kissing.
Once the thought took root, he couldn’t seem to think about anything else. Nor could he stop himself from leaning close and pressing his lips to hers.
Her skin was damp and salty, and this close she smelled like sunshine and grapes. He wrapped his arms around her again. The passion that was never far below the surface made an instant and powerful appearance, but he ignored the heat and the pressure in his groin. Instead of deepening the kiss, he pulled back and looked into her eyes.
“You’re not incompetent,” he told her. “You’re gifted. I admire what you’re doing with Four Sisters, and if your grandfather doesn’t appreciate your vision for Marcelli Wines, then he’s a fool.” He brushed her hair off of her face. “For what it’s worth, you’ve impressed the hell out of me.”
As soon as he spoke the words, he realized he meant them. When he’d first loaned her the money, he hadn’t been sure what was going to happen, but now he knew she would be really big, if given half a chance. Ironically, he and her grandfather were the two men who held her fate in their hands.
The corners of her mouth turned up. “You sure know how to turn a girl’s head.”
“I’m telling the truth. Maybe that’s why Lorenzo is riding you so hard. He sees that you’ll do better than he did and it bugs him.”
“Maybe. But it’s a stupid reason to leave everything to Joe or sell out.” Her dark eyes clouded. “You don’t think he would really sell, do you?”
“We’ve already talked about that.” He rose and held out his hand. “Come on. You can help me with my homework. That will distract you from all these questions.”
She placed her fingers on his palm and stood. “What homework?”
“Remember Sophia’s diary?”
She nodded.
“I’m about three pages further along in it. You took Italian in high school, so it can’t be as bad as mine. We’ll work on it together.”
“I don’t know how much help I’ll be,” she told him. “But I’m game.”
An hour later he had to concede that her Italian was worse than his. They’d managed to work through half a page, and he wasn’t sure they’d gotten any of it right.
Brenna picked up the old book and flipped through the densely written pages. “We could be at this for the rest of our lives. Do you want the practice of translating it or do you just want to know what it says?”
“I have a choice?”
“Sure. Mia is the language expert in our family. She’s disgustingly fluent, both reading and writing. This wouldn’t take her very long.”
“Go for it.”
She closed the diary. “If she finds directions to a gold mine on Wild Sea lands, I can’t promise to share the information with you.”
“Fair enough.”
She took the book. He thought she might say she had to go, but instead of leaving, she leaned back in her chair.
“I told my grandfather about us.”
Nic wasn’t sure what “us” she meant. That she had borrowed money from him or that they had made love the other night? No, he told himself. She couldn’t have mentioned—
“That we used to go out,” she clarified. “That we’d met ten years ago and had become important to each other.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Me, too.” She placed the diary on the kitchen table. “He was going on and on about how horrible it was that I’d brought you to the party. Did I know who and what you were? Who your family was? That sort of thing. I snapped. I told him we’d gone out and that the sky hadn’t fallen.”
“I doubt that impressed him.”
She shrugged. “You’re right. He makes me crazy, but that’s hardly news. Unfortunately, he’s getting better at it. This thing with Joe…” She sighed. “I wish I could hate my brother, but I don’t. In his situation I don’t think I’d act any differently. Mia’s torturing him about his friends, which makes him squirm.”
“Which you enjoy.”
She grinned. “Absolutely.” She glanced at her watch. “Oh, hell. I need to get back.” She rose and touched his arm. “Thanks for listening and letting me blubber all over your shirt.”
Then she bent down and kissed him before heading for the back door.
His mouth burned where she’d brushed it with her own. The fact that she’d already left the house didn’t stop his body from responding. He’d always been a sucker where she was concerned.
He wiped the back of his hand across his mouth as if he could erase the fleeting contact. As if he could change things and make her not matter. She didn’t. She couldn’t. And yet…
Things were different. He couldn’t say how exactly, but he could feel them changing. Brenna’s comment about her grandfather’s questions reverberated. Did she know who and what he was?
Brenna didn’t. To her he was Nic, her next-door neighbor, an ex-lover, the guy who had offered to fund her dream for the future. She didn’t know anything about his plans for her family’s business. Brenna might be the better wine maker, but Lorenzo was the smarter businessman. It never hurt to find out too much about a potential enemy.
Not that Lorenzo knew. No one knew, save his handpicked front men. And Maggie, who disapproved. Maggie, who had spent the last seven years being his conscience. Only this time he wasn’t listening.
13
Late that afternoon Brenna tapped on Mia’s door. When there was no response, she knocked louder, then pounded on the wood. Finally Mia opened the door and grinned. Her baby sister wore headphones and was dancing to a wild beat only she could hear. In a tank top and shorts, without her makeup, she looked about fifteen.
“You scare me,” Brenna said as she stepped into the room. Mia clicked off the Discman and set the headphones on her desk.
“You’re just jealous because I have rhythm.” She proceeded to demonstrate a couple of dance steps that involved fast foot movement and flailing arms.
“I think what you have is a seizure.”
Mia stuck out her tongue and sank onto the unmade bed. As usual, her room was a disaster area. Books were piled three deep on the desk in the corner. Piles of clothes covered the bed, the dresser, and the only chair in the room, while several open CD cases formed a free-style hop-scotch pattern on the floor.
Brenna picked two bras, a skirt, and three T-shirts from the chair and tossed them at her sister.
“I’ve been to your apartment by school. You keep it relatively picked-up. Why do you live like a wild animal here at home?”
“I’m reverting.” Mia clutched a pillow to her chest. “When I’m away I’m an adult, but somehow here at the hacienda I find myself acting like a twelve-year-old.”
Brenna could think of several humorous and biting comments to make to that statement, but she was here to get Mia’s help. She held up the diary.
“What’s that?” Mia asked.
“Sophia Giovanni’s diary. Nic has been working on translating it, but his Italian is almost as bad as mine. I thought maybe you could take a look at it. There’s no rush.”
Mia took the old book from her, carefully turned the pages, and began to read. “Sometimes I walk to the edge of the ocean and let the spray wash my face. I imagine that I’m on a boat that will take me to the ends of the earth.”
Brenna stared at her. “You’re kidding?”
Mia looked up. “What? That she really wrote that or that I can translate it?”
“Both.” She sighed. “Never mind. Whenever you demonstrate your proficiency with languages, I remind myself that I can make better wine.”
Mia chuckled. “Oh, right. Because I make you so jealous.”
“Not jealous, exactly.” Sometimes Mia was brilliant enough to be intimidating. Not that she would share that thought with her baby sister.
Mia dropped the diary on the bed and shifted so she was sitting cross-legged. “Okay, so I can pick up a language really easily, but I’m always missing out on the fun stuff. Like you and Nic. When he was twenty, I was maybe seven or eight. No way was he ever going to notice me.”
“You weren’t interested in boys when you were seven or eight.”
“I know, but I am now.” She sighed dramatically. “Here I am in the fresh flower of my womanhood, and Nic is only interested in you.”
Brenna didn’t know what to deal with first. Mia’s “fresh flower of womanhood” or her assertion that Nic was interested in her. If only. He was…
Brenna didn’t know what he was, which was probably for the best.
“We have a business relationship,” she said primly.
Mia shook her head. “No way. Maybe it started that way when you got the loan, but you brought him to the engagement party. This is not something you do with a business associate.”
“He asked to be invited.”
“Why?”
Brenna shrugged. She had a feeling his request had something to do with their past, but she wasn’t going to bring that up.
“Maybe I just wanted to get back at Grandpa Lorenzo for making my life hell and leaving the winery to Joe.”
Mia pressed her lips together. “I wish I could do something about that. You know, talk to Grandpa.”
“You’d be wasting your breath, but I appreciate the sentiment.”
“Maybe we should kidnap Joe. If he didn’t show up back at the base or wherever he’s stationed, they’d send some guys to rescue him. Then we’d both win. Grandpa Lorenzo would think Joe was a flake and disinherit him, and I’d get access to a bunch of cute guys.”
Brenna laughed. “I like that plan. Let’s work on the details.”
Mia threw herself back on her bed. “Okay. How do we let the base know we only want really attractive single guys on the rescue team?”
“Since you broke up with David, all you think about is dating. Why is that? I thought you went out when you were in D.C.”
“I did and it whetted my appetite for the whole boy-girl touching thing. Which is why I’ve been after Joe’s friends, but he’s really uncooperative.”
“Who’s uncooperative?”
They both turned and saw the man in question standing in the doorway. He surveyed Mia’s room.
“This place is a mess.”
She sat up. “I know. It’s part of my charm.”
“You have a disorganized mind.”
“Maybe. But I’m still too adorable for words.”
“I can think of a few words.” He glanced at Brenna.
“Hey.”
“Hey, yourself.”
“Doing okay?” he asked.