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 fiance 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 until 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.”
