The Marcelli Bride

9

Life got ugly for Darcy when her favorite black cotton pants wouldn’t zip up without her performing an inelegant shimmy on her back, on the bed. Once she sat up, breathing became impossible.

While she knew she had to put on a few pounds, she didn’t think gaining them directly in her stomach and hips was anyone’s idea of attractive. There was only one thing to do.

After rooting through one of her still-packed suitcases, she came across a pair of bicycle shorts, a black sports bra, and some serious-looking athletic shoes. They’d been designed by NASA or somebody equally scientific. Apparently if she put in some effort while wearing them, she could jump tall buildings and all that.

“Oh, yeah,” she muttered as she laced up the shoes. “This is me-working out.”

Ten minutes later she’d made her way to the Marcelli workout room. As all the equipment was relatively new and didn’t look very used, she wondered if the space had been created for Joe’s infrequent visits home. Somehow she couldn’t see Grandma Tessa taking twenty on the treadmill.

She bypassed the running machine and went directly to the elliptical. There she punched in one of the existing programs, set the tension for as easy as possible, and pushed the On button.

Exercising was bad enough, but this room made it worse with four walls of mirrors. She got to watch her face turn bright red, then admire the drops of sweat as they formed and dripped off her nose. Talk about fashion forward.

Oh God, she thought nearly six minutes into her workout. She couldn’t breathe. No way she’d gotten this out of shape. She was only twenty-six.

“On the outside,” she wheezed. “On the inside, I’m a hundred and nine. Why does healthy have to be so h-hard?”

She sucked in a breath as the machine increased the tension. According to the heart monitor, she’d barely broken triple digits on her heart rate, but her chest felt tight, and her legs were ready to quit in serious protest. Flames licked up her thighs, and not the exciting, sexy kind.

“Lauren does this every day,” she gasped. “And she runs. She’s sicker than I thought.”

At fifteen minutes into her twenty-minute program, she knew she was going to die. The Secret Service would come looking for her and find her sweaty but lifeless body bent over the machine. Paige would be sad, but everyone else would simply move on to the next assignment.

“I can’t do this. I ca-”

The workout room door opened and Joe walked in.

Suddenly things like breathing and painful muscles didn’t matter. Not when there was an entire buffet of eye candy, not only in person but reflected in the mirrors.

She instantly straightened so he wouldn’t know how close she’d come to quitting and sucked in her gut. A deep breath and a lot of effort allowed her to say, “Morning. How’s it going,” as if she weren’t completely winded.

Joe looked at her, then the door. He’d pretty much avoided everyone for the past twenty-four hours. Would he duck out now?

Apparently he needed the workout more than he wanted to be away from her. He grunted a greeting and walked to the treadmill. He, too, punched in a program, but he set his for warp speed. After about thirty seconds of a fast walk, he started jogging, then broke into a run.

Darcy had planned on doing her twenty minutes, then escaping to her room for some serious relaxation. But with Joe running so earnestly and his loose T-shirt flopping over thick, powerful muscles, she thought she might stay long enough to work with the set of free weights in the far corner.

Her machine beeped, freeing her from its torture. She patted her face with the towel she’d brought, then moved to the bench by the weights. It was in the perfect position, allowing her to see Joe from not only the front but also the back, which was reflected in the mirror.

“Missed you at dinner last night,” she said as she picked up two ten-pound weights and raised them to shoulder height. “Grammy M stopped by, which meant Grandma Tessa was in a snit. She wasn’t talking, but no one could tell because Ian babbled on and on about college and his studies and where he and Mia have been. He made Vegas sound boring, something I didn’t think was possible.”

Joe picked up the pace on the treadmill, which she took to mean that he was really enjoying their conversation.

“I’m here because of the pasta,” she continued. “It’s going all to my stomach, which is bad enough, but I know the next stop is my thighs.”

“You’re lifting wrong.”

She paused in midpush, the weights just above her head, her elbows bent.

“What?”

“Start with your palms facing in, then turn them out as you push up.”

She dropped the weights to her lap because it was too complicated to change position in midexercise. For a half second she considered ignoring his instructions. If she did it wrong again would he abandon the treadmill to sit next to her and show her how? Would he put his large, masculine hands on her damp, hot body and-

Whoa-stop that fantasy train right there. No more sexy thoughts about Joe, she told herself firmly. He wasn’t for her. He didn’t even like her. One kiss did not a relationship make.

She did a set of ten presses, then switched to bicep curls. He continued to run at a grueling pace designed to make her hurt just watching him.

“Why are you mad?” he asked.

“I’m not.”

“You’re scowling.”

She glanced in the mirror and realized he was right. She instantly relaxed her face and tried to think happy thoughts.

“Not a morning person?” he asked.

“I’m fine.”

“You haven’t had coffee yet.”

She didn’t ask how he knew. “I couldn’t fit into my pants. I figured I’d better start working out.”

“You need to gain weight.”

“Thanks for the news flash, but you’ve already berated me for that. You don’t get to do it again.”

He grinned. “It’s not like you can stop me.”

She felt the scowl reappear.

“Yell at me,” he said. “I can take it. Are you sleeping?”

“I’m not talking about that with you.”

“But it’s an interesting topic.”

He was trying to make her mad, and he was succeeding. “Let’s talk about you,” she snapped. “I may be a skinny insomniac with post-traumatic shock or some such crap, but at least I don’t go around hurting my grandmother’s feelings.”

“Good point.”

It didn’t feel like a good point. If anything, Darcy would say it felt small and mean-spirited. “I, ah…” Apologize, she told herself. The thing was, she didn’t do it very often, so she wasn’t very good at it. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why not? It’s true.”

That stunned her, but the shock was nothing when compared with what he said next. “I’ve been thinking about what you said. The food-is-love connection. You might be right.”

If she’d had any rhythm, she would have stood up and done a little victory dance. Instead she contented herself with a smug smile.

“Gee, thanks for the endorsement. I won’t let it go to my head. Besides, the concept is hardly revolutionary. Most mothers show love with food, mine always did. The Marcelli family is Italian, so they have that gene in spades.” She considered his past. “Didn’t your adoptive mother do the same thing?”

“I don’t remember. I was a kid when my parents died. I barely remember what they look like.”

The sadness inherent in the statement made her want to walk over and hug him. Both the jogging and her visceral reaction to him made that action impossible. Still, an ache settled in her midsection and made her more determined than ever to help him connect with his family.

“I’m sure she did the same thing,” Darcy told him. “I’m not sure we as women can help it.”

“Maybe,” he admitted, with obvious reluctance. “My ex used to make cookies for her kids when they had a bad day.”

“See?” She instantly wanted to ask more questions about his previous marriage but thought her obvious curiosity might destroy the moment.

She set down the weights and stood. “I know you’re ambivalent about your family, but what I don’t know is why. They only want to love you, Joe. What’s so bad about that?”

He hit the Stop button on the treadmill and glared at her. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

She shook her head as the moment died. “It’s too important.”

“Why do you care?”

“I’m a compassionate person, and don’t you dare laugh. It’s true.”

Joe didn’t doubt it. He might not enjoy his current assignment, but it wasn’t because of Darcy. Somehow the press had become convinced she was a prima dona bitch with an attitude, and they slanted all their stories that way. But it wasn’t true. Oh, sure, Darcy could use sarcasm like a weapon and she was verbally deadly when she was angry, but at heart, she was a complete pushover.

He wiped his face and neck, then stepped off the treadmill and headed for the mats covering the floor at the rear of the room.

“Come here,” he said.

Her expression turned suspicious. “Why?”

He held in a grin. “Don’t you trust me?”

“Not as much as you might think.”

“I know I can’t ask you to change the subject. For some reason you’re convinced you can heal me and make me want to bond with my family. So I’m trying to distract you.”

“Uh-huh. How?”

He crooked his index finger, beckoning her over. “Come on, Darcy. You know you want to.”

“I’m not sure I want to at all,” she said, but she began to move toward him. “Are you going to teach me some new exercises?”

“Nope. I’m going to teach you a few moves to ward off would-be attackers. Your Secret Service team should have done it already.”

“I’ve been to a few self-defense classes.”

“Not good enough. I’m going to teach you to fight dirty. Stand here.” He positioned her in front of him. “I’m going to grab you. I want you to try and break free.”

He leaned forward and wrapped both arms around her. The second he did, he knew he’d made a huge mistake.

She was hot and sweaty from her workout, which should have been a turnoff, but instead it made him think of other kinds of activity that could work up a sweat. He instantly pictured them rolling around together in bed, bodies sliding together, hands reaching, them both straining to-

He shook off the thought and did his best not to react. In nylon shorts there was no way he could hide a hard-on.

Focus, he told himself. He had to remember what was important.

“Elbow me in the midsection,” he said. “As hard as you can. And don’t worry, you can’t hurt me.”

She sucked in a breath, then rammed her elbow into his midsection. He barely felt it.

“Harder, Darcy. I’m the bad guy. Do it like you mean it.”

She hit him again, but it wasn’t much more than a slight blow. Her security wrist band barely moved. He released her. “Are you even trying?”

She huffed. “Yes. And let me say for the record-ouch.” She rubbed her arm.

He couldn’t help chuckling. “That was it? That was your big power play?”

Fury darkened her eyes and determination pulled at her mouth. Even all blotchy and damp, she was still pretty, he thought, amused by her temper. The sports bra and shorts left nothing to the imagination. She might be all female, but she was sadly lacking in curves. Still, he wanted her. Funny how it didn’t matter that she wasn’t his usual type.

“I want to do it again,” she said, turning her back to him.

He obliged her by stepping close and grabbing her. One of his hands was right below her left breast. He felt the heat of the modest swell, and it was all he could do not to reach up and cup the feminine flesh. Would her nipple get hard right away? Would it-

Bam! She nailed him hard in the gut, and he’d forgotten to prepare. Her bony elbow connected painfully with a rib. At the same time she stomped down hard on his foot, then turned to face him, both hands raised in fists.

“Better,” he said, ignoring the pain. “But don’t take on your attacker. Run like hell. My point is, you can’t use conventional methods to hurt a man who’s bigger and stronger. That’s what I wanted to demonstrate.”

She looked disappointed. “I didn’t hurt you?”

He ignored the fading pain in his midsection. “Do I look hurt?”

“I guess not.”

He pointed to her face. “Go for the eyes. Or the base of your palm to the base of the nose. Push hard, toward the eyes.” He explained a few other vulnerable points.

“What if there’s more than one?” she asked when he’d paused. “What do I do then?”

He remembered the attack that had brought her here in the first place. “How many were there?”

“Four. They grabbed me and tied me up before I could do anything.”

He reached out and put his hand on her shoulder. “You’re not going to win against four guys, Darcy. There’s nothing you could have done.”

“But you could have held off four guys?”

He shrugged. “I have years of training.”

“Could I learn?”

Would it help? Would it make her feel safer? “If you wanted to. First you need to get some muscle on your body. Those weights you were working with are fine to tone up, but you need to be pushing yourself.” He glanced over her frame. “You should be able to bench-press a hundred pounds and leg press double that.”

Her eyes widened. “Are you crazy? I’ll look like some kind of freak.”

“You won’t bulk up. Women don’t. Besides, muscle makes you tight and defined.” He shook his head. “What is it about women and looking muscular?”

“It’s cultural. As the half of the species rewarded for being bigger, you wouldn’t understand.”

“But you look fine.”

“You said I was too skinny.”

“You are.”

She sighed. “Let me guess. You like lots of curves on your women.”

He sensed this was a dangerous conversation and didn’t respond with more than a shrug.

“I knew it.”

“You look perfectly okay,” he said.

“Oh, wow. I can hardly breathe from the excited beating of my heart. What a compliment. I’ll treasure it always.”

He didn’t think she was upset, but he wasn’t sure. “You know you’re attractive, right?”

“I guess.”

Her unenthusiastic response and the way she averted her gaze made him wonder if she did. He moved a little closer.

“Darcy, you are. You have a pretty face, great eyes, and when you smile, it’s like you’re sharing a secret with the world.”

She ducked her head. “Thanks. I appreciate you saying that, but in my family, Lauren’s the pretty one. Not that I mind,” she added hastily.

“You need to get over your sister complex.”

She looked at him and rolled her eyes. “Gee, Dr. Larson, thanks for the psychological evaluation. But it’s not that simple. Life keeps getting in the way. For example, the first guy I ever slept with turned out to not be interested in me at all. He suffered through our relationship simply to get an invitation home for winter break where he hit on my sister. Lauren, being Lauren, refused to have anything to do with him, but that didn’t take away the sting.”

Why had he started this conversation?

“He’s a jerk, and you’re better off without him,” Joe told her.

“I know that, but it’s not the point. And at the time, it really hurt. There I was, heartbroken, and my sister was trying to make it better. She’s just a nice person.”

“She sounds perfect.”

Darcy nodded. “She is. Pretty much in everything she does. Everyone loves her.”

“Perfect can get boring.”

Darcy glared at him. “Don’t you say anything bad about my sister.”

He held up both hands and took a step back. “You have a pretty complex relationship with Lauren.”

“I know.” She sighed. “Sorry for snapping. Sometimes…” She smiled. “I’m a multifaceted person.”

And charming, he thought as he moved closer. Funny, vulnerable. And the president’s daughter. He was just the hired help. Getting involved would be crazy.

“Oh, wow,” she breathed as she stared up at him.

“I’m not going to kiss you,” he told her.

“I can see that.”

Darcy watched desire darken Joe’s eyes. He might claim he wasn’t going to kiss her, but she would bet a lot of money that he wanted to. She felt all shivery and hot and nervous. But she didn’t move away. Not even an inch. If there was the potential for some lip-lock, she wanted to be there for the whole thing.

He reached out and touched her cheek with his fingers. “I could lose my career over this,” he said quietly.

“No woman could ever be worth that.”

“Agreed.”

But he didn’t step away, and the thought thrilled her. He wanted her. She could feel it in the tension in his body. He wanted her. Not Lauren, he wasn’t interested in political favors. He was-

He leaned forward and claimed her mouth with his. There was heat and promise in that first brush of his lips. She relaxed into him, raising her arms to his shoulders, and let her body sag into his hardness. He pulled her close, angled his head, and swept his tongue against her bottom lip.

She parted without thinking. Need overwhelmed her, and the second he eased inside to claim her, she knew it wasn’t going to be enough. She wanted more. She wanted all of it.

Hunger swept through her, causing her to run her hands up and down his back, urging him closer. Her breasts flattened against his chest, her thighs nestled with his. She wanted to rub against him like a cat-she wanted him touching her everywhere.

Instead she had to content herself with a deep, sensual, perfect kiss. He claimed her mouth with a mastery that left her breathless. His tongue circled hers, teasing, arousing, delighting. His large hands stroked her back before moving lower to cup her rear. When he squeezed, she arched forward, bringing her belly in contact with his erection.

Her breath caught as she realized he was hard. She’d made him want her. Need swelled as did her nipples. They ached. She ached.

Not knowing what else to do, she slid her hands under his T-shirt until she touched bare skin. He was hot and slightly damp, and she found herself wanting to explore him all over. First with her fingers and then with her tongue. She wanted to taste him and consume him.

He pulled back with a suddenness that made her gasp. They stared at each other, both breathing hard. Joe’s eyes were dilated.

Silence filled the room. She waited for him to dismiss what had happened between them. Not because she believed he could, but because her luck with men just wasn’t that good. He stunned her when he gave her a half-grin, half-grimace and said, “It wasn’t supposed to be that great.”

“Yeah?” she asked, unable to keep from smiling.

“Yeah. You’re big trouble. Your father is my commander in chief.”

“Does that really matter?”

“It should.”

Which didn’t answer her question.

“You go first,” he said, motioning to the door.

Right. So they weren’t seen together.

“I’ll wait here,” he continued. “Until it’s safe.”

“I doubt anyone is lurking in the hallway.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He pointed at his crotch.

“Oh.” He was obviously hard, and it was damned impressive. “Right. You don’t want to flash that at Grandma Tessa.”

He winced. “Talking about her will help solve the problem.”

“I live to serve.”

Mia caught up with Darcy late that morning. “You have to come right now,” Mia said as she burst into Darcy’s room. “I’m convinced there’s something going on between Paige and Alex.”

“What? That’s crazy. Agents can’t be involved.”

“I don’t know what the rules are, but they’re always giving each other these smoldering looks. I’ve called a meeting of the Marcelli women and you have to be there. I mean, you’re one of us, now.”

Darcy didn’t think that was true, but she was delighted to be asked. “I’m in.”

“Cool.” Mia grinned. “Francesca is coming, too, so you can meet her and the twins. They’re at the insane age. Running around and getting into everything. There’s two of them and only seven of us. I’m not sure we’ll manage.”

Darcy laughed. “I think we can handle it.”

Mia shook her head. “Have you ever been around toddler twins? Trust me, every second is an adventure.”

It turned out Mia was telling the truth. Eric and Haley were two and a half and too adorable for words. They both had dark hair, and blue, blue eyes. Haley had the kind of curls women sell their souls for. They were also bundles of energy who refused to be contained.

The Marcelli women gathered in the large living room where Darcy met Francesca Reese for the first time. Brenna’s fraternal twin was tall and slender, with short, dark hair and beautiful features.

Brenna settled in a corner of the couch, then announced she would need help when it was time for her to stand up.

“Do you like her hair?” Brenna asked, pointing at Francesca.

Darcy nodded. “It’s really cute.”

“So typical. I cut my hair three years ago and I looked like a yak. She does it right after the twins were born and she’s a supermodel.” Brenna eyed the twins as they raced around the coffee table. “Please, God, no twins for me. I’d have to kill myself.”

Grammy M picked up her cup of tea. “Brenna, darlin’, be careful how you’re talkin’ to the Lord.”

“But I’m sincere. I’m really worried about the twin thing. I can’t have twins. I just can’t. I’ll be forced to send them back.”

“Good luck,” Colleen told her daughter. “They resist the process.” She glanced around. “This is nice, having my girls here. Except for Katie. I miss her. If only she lived closer.”

Grammy M smiled at Brenna. “See how a mother loves her children? You’ll do the same, twins or not.”

“I guess.” Brenna didn’t sound convinced.

Mia flopped down on the second sofa and reached for a cookie on one of the plates of food Grandma Tessa had brought into the room. There’d been a minor scuffle in the kitchen when Grammy M had shown up with brownies, but now Tessa’s cookies and Grammy M’s brownies sat at separate tables.

“Wouldn’t it show up in an ultrasound?” Mia asked as she munched. “Wouldn’t they see four arms or legs?”

“I’ve only had a couple to make sure things are all right. Nic and I don’t want to know the sex of the baby, and if you keep going, someone is bound to slip. It’s just that at one of the ultrasounds, the technician said there were two babies, but since then, we’ve only seen one.” Brenna tried to lean forward, then sagged back and held out her hand. “Someone give me a brownie, please. I need chocolate.”

Little Haley dove for the brownie Colleen picked up, slipped, and banged her head on the coffee table. She started crying, and Eric joined in, Darcy supposed, to be supportive. Francesca grabbed for one twin, Colleen took the other, and Brenna clutched her brownie.

Mia waited until the sobs had died down, then cleared her throat. “I’m sure you’re all wondering why I called this meeting.”

“You said it was because you thought Paige and Alex have something going on,” Darcy said.

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.”