The Marcelli Bride

Colleen walked into the living room. She carried a tray heavy with sandwiches, cookies, and the inevitable bottle of Marcelli wine. This one was a cab-merlot blend.

“Now what are you two girls talking about?” Colleen asked as she set the tray on the coffee table and sat in the wing chair opposite the sofa.

Paige waved her scrap of fabric. “That I was never very good at the domestic arts. All this lack of success is making me feel inadequate. I’m going to go clean my gun.”

Darcy watched her go, then turned to Joe’s mother. “I’m afraid I’m not any better at this. My stitches aren’t even.”

Colleen opened the bottle of wine and poured them each a glass. “I wouldn’t worry about it. At the rate we’re going, one of my granddaughters will have grown up and gotten engaged before Mia ever considers settling down.” She handed Darcy a glass, then relaxed in her chair. “I love Mia so much, but too many days with her around exhausts me.”

“She’s sure full of energy.”

“Among other things. I thought Lorenzo was going to have a heart attack when he realized Ian was sharing Mia’s room. We’d given him his own, of course, but young people today…” Colleen stopped and frowned. “My God. Did I actually say that? ‘Young people today’?” She closed her eyes. “I’m turning into my mother, only without the charming accent.”

Darcy laughed.

Colleen looked at her and smiled. “I suppose it was bound to happen.”

“We’re all getting older.”

“I’m afraid you won’t be able to claim that for some time,” Colleen said. “On the one hand Mia wears me out, on the other the house seems quiet without her. I’m glad we have you here with us, Darcy.”

The unexpected words surprised Darcy. She tried to be a good houseguest, but she knew she was a relative stranger here. “You’ve all been very kind.”

“Trust me. We’re not altruistic enough to be noble. We like having you around,” Colleen told her. “Although I’m not sure being an honorary Marcelli is as exciting as the life you’re used to. After all, you can go to the White House anytime you’d like.”

Darcy nodded because it was expected, but in truth she didn’t feel as if she could just drop in. Maybe to see Lauren, but not for any other reason. Certainly not to see her father. Appointments were required.

“It must be hard for the president,” Colleen said as she set down her glass of wine. “He’s been a widower for a long time, yet it can’t be easy for him to date.”

“Not really. There’s a lot of speculation about his love life, but he has always said he won’t get involved with anyone until he’s out of office.”

“I suppose that makes sense. How would he know if the woman was interested in him or what he could offer? Still, he must be lonely.”

Darcy reached for a small sandwich but didn’t bite into it. She’d never considered that her father also had to deal with hangers-on. Sure, in his regular life, but not romantically. Of course there would be women who would want to marry the president. A fair number probably wanted to just sleep with him, but she didn’t want to think about that. Talk about an ick factor.

“Of course he has his girls,” Colleen said. “Children are a blessing. And you’re both so close. You in town and Lauren right there in the private quarters.” She smiled. “I think you were smart to have your own place so you could keep your privacy.”

“It is nice,” Darcy said because she knew the truth was far less appealing. A part of her had been interested in living in the White House. She’d imagined a room across from her sister and plenty of moments to enjoy the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But she’d never been invited. When rooms had been assigned and living arrangements discussed, the assumption had been she would be staying in her D.C. apartment.

She’d kept her hurt to herself. She hadn’t wanted to upset Lauren or put her in the awkward position of having to petition their father on Darcy’s behalf.

“Do you go to many dinners and evenings there?” Colleen asked.

“Some. He hasn’t really started entertaining much yet. I received invitations when he was vice president, but I was still in graduate school and had to refuse a lot of them.”

Lauren had teased her about not wanting to come to anything but being unwilling to flat out say so. Lauren had said-

Darcy picked up her wine and took a sip. Was that what had happened? Had she said no so many times that they’d stopped asking? Did they think she wasn’t interested?

No, she told herself. That wasn’t possible. They had to know the truth. Didn’t they?

The days stayed warm and sunny. Joe knew from his nighttime reading that warm sunny days were best right before harvest. That the heat and light brought out the sugar in the grapes. Or did it keep sugar from being in the grapes? Damn. He’d just read about it the other night. Why couldn’t he remember?

Because this wasn’t his thing, he told himself. He wasn’t interested in wine or Marcelli land or grapes.

He rounded the corner of the house and saw Darcy in the shade, leaning against the back of a large jacaranda tree. Her eyes were closed, and her book had fallen off her lap. Just behind her were two agents, playing cards.

Joe nodded at them, then approached her. He crouched down at the edge of the blanket and waited until she opened her eyes and saw him.

“Hey,” she murmured, her voice low and her skin slightly flushed.

She wore a loose tank top and shorts, both black. Flipflops lay beside the blanket. Any makeup she’d applied that morning had faded, leaving her lips bare and only a shade or two darker than her cheeks.

She was gorgeous. Sexy, soft, and a thousand other things he shouldn’t think. If he did, the physical manifestation of his thoughts would inform everyone in visual range exactly what he had on his mind.

“Hey, yourself.” He sat next to her. “You’re still not sleeping.”

“Don’t go there, big guy. I’m too drowsy to fight with you today.”

“It’s not a fight if you do what I say.”

Her eyes widened as she laughed. “Do you think there’s even the tiniest chance that’s going to happen?”

“Not in this lifetime.”

“Or on this planet,” she told him. “I’m okay. And for your information, I’m sleeping better.”

“How much?”

“Maybe fifteen percent.”

“Not good enough.” Her hand lay beside his. He wanted to pick it up and touch it, maybe lace their fingers together. Which meant his brain had failed and he was in serious need of some combat time.

“You should talk to somebody,” he told her. “A professional. Even my SEAL teams need help now and then.”

“Okay. Maybe. When this is over and I’m back in D.C.”

He thought about pushing back, but if she saw someone sooner it would mean one more body who knew her location. That crowd was already too big for comfort.

“Brenna says the chardonnay grapes will be ready to harvest in a couple of weeks,” Darcy said. “I kind of want to be here to see that.”

He glanced around to make sure no one was listening, then lowered his voice. “I’ve been reading some of the books she left me. Harvest is a lot of work. There are-” He broke off at her smile. “What?” he demanded.

“Oooh, I could really blackmail you with the fact that you’re studying up on wine.”

“But you won’t. We’re in this together.”

The second the words were out, he wondered what he was talking about. Darcy should have been surprised, too, but instead of calling him on it, she changed the subject.

“I’ve never spent any time in this part of the country, and I have to say I’m sorry about that. I really love it here. I could get used to this kind of life.” She glanced at him. “I mean that at face value, so don’t get all weird on me.”

“I rarely get weird on anyone. I can see how it could be appealing.”