Not to worry, he told himself. What he felt didn’t matter. As long as he didn’t act on it, he was fine. No woman was worth his career, certainly not this one.
“Brenna,” Lorenzo said loudly. “You ordered too many barrels. We have no use for them.”
“Oh, they’re not all for us,” she told him. “The extras are for Nic.”
Nic looked at his wife with an expression of long-suffering. “I have more than enough barrels.”
“No, you don’t. You need to age more of your chardonnay in wood, not stainless steel. Then you blend the two together.”
“Brenna, Wild Sea is my winery.”
“Yes, my love, but that doesn’t seem to prevent you from doing it all wrong. Take the extra barrels and use them. You’ll see a big increase in the quality of the reserve chardonnay.”
Darcy leaned toward him. “Why does it matter what they’re stored in?” she asked.
Joe shrugged. “I haven’t a clue.”
As soon as he spoke, he knew he should have kept his mouth shut. But it was too late. Lorenzo set down his fork.
“You should know,” he growled. “You are the firstborn grandchild. The only boy. This could have all been yours. But no. You resist. Why? So you can play soldier?”
“Pop, stop it,” Marco said.
“Don’t worry about it,” Joe told him. He was used to the old man’s complaints. They didn’t bother him.
“If he would just try. Give it a chance.”
“Not interested,” Joe told him.
“I don’t know anything about wine,” Darcy said. “Except that you’re supposed to have red with beef. How big is the Marcelli winery?”
Joe narrowed his gaze. Had she stepped in to deflect the attention from him? Why the hell would she bother?
“More acres than you’d want to walk. I can take you on a tour,” Brenna said. “In a manner of speaking. We’ll have to use carts, what with me being unable to waddle very far, but there’s still a lot to see.”
“Sounds like fun,” Darcy said. “If it’s not too much trouble.”
Brenna grinned. “Are you kidding? I love the chance to show off everything I know about wine.” She patted Nic’s hand. “I’ll explain the difference between the quality we shoot for here at Marcelli Wines and the volume they’re so proud of at Wild Sea.”
“Bite me,” Nic said with a grin.
“I believe that’s what got us into trouble in the first place,” his wife told him. She turned back to Darcy. “Does tomorrow morning work for you?”
“I’m not exactly filling my social calendar these days,” Darcy told her. “Name the time.”
That evening, Alex walked into the small guesthouse. He’d been avoiding it for the past couple of hours, but he’d run out of work and been forced to return.
The space itself wasn’t too bad. He’d turned the dining room into a command center. Computers and monitors covered the table and spilled onto the chairs. A large map of the Marcelli and Wild Sea property covered most of one wall. That left the living room as the only place to sit outside of the two bedrooms.
The rest of the team would be housed at a nearby hotel, but he and Paige would share the house and the single bathroom. He’d suffered through worse, of course. He’d slept in tents, cars, and out in the open, all in the name of getting the job done. The difference was he hadn’t done it in such close quarters with Paige.
The bathroom door opened and she walked out. Her hair was damp, and she’d traded in her dark suit for a loose pair of pajama bottoms and a tank top. No bra. Her nipples were clearly visible through the thin, ribbed fabric.
It had been a long time since they’d shared a roof, and he expected her to run for cover when she saw him. When she didn’t do anything but nod, he was determined to show he didn’t care, either.
“They’re in for the night at the house,” he said. “Richards had the first shift. He’ll let us know if he spots anything.”
“I don’t think there’s going to be trouble, but it’s best to be sure,” she said as she walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. “Did you taste the pasta Grandma Tessa sent over? It’s spectacular. I’m going to have to add a couple of miles to my run every morning or I won’t fit into my clothes.”
As she spoke, she bent over and pulled out a covered bowl. He wasn’t so much interested in the food as in the way the pajama fabric stretched over her ass. He couldn’t figure out if she was just being herself or if this was all a carefully constructed plan to drive him insane.
“We need to clear the air,” he said, hating how stiff he sounded.
She straightened and faced him. “Is there a problem?”
“You tell me. We started out in the same training class.”
“Ah.” She reached for a bowl and scooped pasta into it. “You’re worried that I’m bitter. Don’t sweat it, Alex. You had a couple of lucky breaks, where you got to strut your stuff. You’re good, and I’m okay with that.”
He hated her causal acceptance. “You used to be driven. You used to want it all.” He remembered it had been a mutual decision for them to end things. They’d both been more interested in their careers than in each other.
“Not anymore.” She put the small bowl in the microwave and punched in a time. “I guess I’ve mellowed with age. These days I’m looking for more balance in my life.”
She was saying all the right things, and he hated that. “You get that from your husband?”
Her green eyes narrowed. “Yes. Not so much from his life as from his death.”
Alex instantly felt like a jerk. “I’m sorry,” he said.
“Thanks, but I’m okay with it now. I still miss him, but I mostly remember the good times.”
With that she took her pasta from the microwave and walked to her room.
He watched her go and wondered what she remembered from their time together.
5
She dressed in black cargo pants and a black tank top, then carefully slathered on sunscreen. Somehow over the past couple of years she’d gotten incredibly pale. Unfortunately the lack of color only emphasized the dark circles under her eyes. Another couple of nights without sleep and even her concealer wouldn’t work.
It wasn’t that she didn’t want to sleep, it’s that the second she closed her eyes, she felt them grabbing her again. Her wrists throbbed as she remembered the rope. Fear tightened her throat and left her unable to breathe. Far better to give up sleep than face the demons in the dark.
After slipping on sandals, she hurried downstairs where she found Joe waiting in the kitchen. There were no other Marcellis around. Just Joe sitting at the kitchen table and a tempting pot of coffee on the counter.
He glanced up from the paper. “Morning.”
He looked neither friendly nor happy to see her, so she nodded a greeting and beelined for her morning jolt of caffeine. After adding the right amount of milk and sweetener, she joined him at the table and gingerly took the entertainment section of the paper.
“Not interested in what’s going on in the world?” he asked from behind the paper.
“I already did a half hour of CNN while I was getting ready,” she said. “That’s about as much current events as I can stand. Besides, if it’s really important, the White House sends me a briefing.”
He set down the paper and raised his eyebrows. He’d showered and shaved. His hair was military short, his skin tanned, and his shoulders broad enough to carry the weight of the world on them. He looked good. Capable.
