The Marcelli Bride

10

Still feeling the need to hide out after inadvertently dropping a bombshell on the family, Darcy retreated to her room and picked up the secure phone that had been installed the second day of her visit. She dialed a familiar number and was connected with her father’s personal assistant.

“It’s Darcy,” she said. “Is he available?”

“No, honey. He’s in a meeting with China. Want me to interrupt?”

Darcy glanced at her watch. It was nearly five here, which made it close to eight in D.C. As per usual, her father was working late.

“No. That’s okay. Tell him…” What? That she missed him? That would make him laugh. “Tell him I called.”

“Will do. Are you okay? Having a good time?”

Darcy looked around the room, at the familiar furnishings and the view of the vineyard just beyond her window.

“I’m having a great time,” she said.

Darcy’s bedroom door opened without warning and Joe stalked inside. She was about to point out that he should at least pretend to knock-what if she’d been naked-when she saw the slight twitch in his cheek and something that looked amazingly like the need to squash, beat, or maim in his eyes.

She put down the book she’d been reading and held up both hands in a gesture that some might take to be surrender.

“You never said it was a secret,” she pointed out, speaking quickly. “It didn’t occur to me they didn’t know. I mean, come on. It’s been three years and you never bothered to mention to your family that you’d been married? That’s not my fault.”

He closed the door and walked to the bed. She thought about scooting over and patting the mattress in invitation but doubted that was why he was here.

“You’re right,” he said, his voice tight and clipped, which could be caused by his clenched teeth. “I didn’t tell them.”

“And you didn’t say I shouldn’t say anything.”

“Right.”

“And you really should have mentioned it to them before this.”

He crossed to the single chair in the room and sank onto the cushion. “Apparently.”

“Are they hysterical?”

“Tessa’s done her rosary twice and is begging me to tell her that my ex is dead, because a dead wife is a whole lot better than divorce in her book. Grammy M and Colleen are hurt, and Brenna and Mia are mad. I haven’t talked with Marco or Lorenzo yet, but I’m sure they’ll give me an earful.”

He seemed surprised. Men, she thought. Sometimes they weren’t all that bright.

“They’re your family. You may not think of them as such, but they think of themselves that way. It’s not like you stubbed your toe and forgot to mention it. You were married. You had a whole other life.”

He shrugged. “I’m not married now. Haven’t been in a while.”

“What happened?” she asked. “I mean why did you guys split up?”

He stared at her without speaking. Darcy figured he was trying to intimidate her. While it kind of worked, she wanted to know more than she was afraid of him.

“It’s a logical question,” she told him. “You’d ask me the same thing if our positions were reversed.”

“No, I wouldn’t.”

“Okay. Your loss. So what happened?”

Joe leaned back in the chair and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “She couldn’t handle me having to leave without any notice and being gone for months at a time. I’d warned her what it would be like, and she said it was fine. But hearing about it and living it were different. One time I came home and she was gone.”

Darcy’s heart cracked a little in sympathy. “I’m sorry. That must have been horrible.”

“It wasn’t one of my best moments.” He shrugged. “I got over her quicker than I should have, which says something about the state of our relationship, but I really missed the kids.”

“How many?”

“Two. Eight and ten. They were great,” he said with a smile that told her he had a lot of good memories. “Later, when I realized who I missed the most, I wondered if they were the real reason I’d wanted to get married. To have an instant family.”

As soon as the words were out, he straightened, getting all stiff, as if he regretted the confession.

He’d wanted children in his life? She never would have guessed.

“That’s just so sad,” she told him.

“Whatever. I got over it.” He looked at her. “My family doesn’t need to know about the kids.”

“Not a problem. I won’t say anything. I didn’t mean to spill secrets about your divorce.”

“I know. I should have told them myself.”

But he hadn’t. Knowing him as she did, she could guess why. But what didn’t make sense was why he’d told her.

Shortly after midnight, Alex found himself walking restlessly through the small guesthouse. He should have been getting some sleep. He wasn’t on duty, and come morning there would be plenty to do. But he wasn’t sleepy and the light still shining under Paige’s door beckoned him like a siren’s call.

She’d changed, he acknowledged. Softened, but not in a way that interfered with her doing her job. In that respect, she was as focused as always. She seemed more balanced, more connected with people. The drive had faded, maybe disappeared. He would have bet on her staying as career driven as she’d been when he’d first met her, and it pissed him off that the change was due to another man.

He paused outside of her door and put his hand on the knob. Going in would be stupid and weak. Better to walk away. He’d managed to forget about her once before. In fact, after they’d split up and gone their separate ways, he’d barely thought about her at all. So what was the big deal now? He could-

He knocked on the door and opened it at the same time. Paige sat on her bed, reading. There was a glass of wine on the nightstand and soft music playing in the background.

She raised her eyebrows. “It’s a little late for business,” she said. “And we’re officially off duty.”

“I know.”

He started to back out of the room, but she gestured to the open bottle of wine on the dresser. “Help yourself,” she told him.

There was a second glass on the tray. Had she been expecting company? Expecting him?

After pouring himself a glass of chardonnay, he moved to the overstuffed chair in the corner of the room and sank down.

“The assignment’s going well,” he said into the silence.

Paige closed her book and set it beside her. She wore the same pajamas he’d seen her in before. A tank top over loose pants. No bra. The curve of her breast was clearly visible, as was the slight pucker of her nipple.

She picked up her wine and took a sip. “I agree. Darcy is relaxing, which is good. I had an interesting talk with Joe today. He thinks Darcy should receive some advanced self-defense training. Maybe get started in some form of martial arts. He also suggested I put together a workout program for her that will get her into some heavy weights.”

Alex wasn’t sure it would help. “She was taken by four men. Very few women would be able to stop that.”

“Agreed, but the training and additional strength would give her more of a sense of control. That might help her sleep at night.”

He worried more about the subject’s physical safety than her emotional state of mind. Still it couldn’t hurt.

“Whatever you want to do with her is fine with me,” he said.

“How thrilled I am to have my leader’s permission,” she said with a grin. “I know Darcy will do the dance of joy.”

He felt the teasing more than he should have. “Why were you telling me if not to get permission.”

“I was having a conversation, Alex. You might remember them.”

She thought he was too into the job. Not interesting enough. The assessment stung. He’d had to work his ass off to get his present assignment. She, of all people, should appreciate that.

“I know how to have a conversation,” he said. “Let’s have one. Do you miss being married?”

He wasn’t sure if the question surprised her, but it shocked the hell out of him. He’d planned on saying something about the winery. Those other words had come from nowhere.

“I miss Ben,” she said quietly. Her green eyes seemed to darken with what? Memories? Pain?

“A lot of people were surprised when you got married,” he said. Mostly him. “What happened?”

“The usual.” She smiled. “I met Ben and fell in love.”

She’d claimed to love him but there’d been no talk of marriage. No search for a happily ever after. Why? What had that Ben guy had that he, Alex, hadn’t?

“It screwed up your career,” he said.

“If you mean I didn’t get ahead as quickly as I could have, that’s true. On the other hand, I actually had a private life, and that was very important to me. Ben taught me life isn’t an all-or-nothing sport. There are points of compromise, and sometimes that’s even better than winning.”

On what planet? Alex drank more wine and wished they were talking about anything else.

“When I met Ben,” she continued, “I warned him I would work long hours and have to travel. He said he would rather have me around some of the time than not at all. It was a unique perspective.”

Alex didn’t know what to do with that information. “So, how did he die?”

“Lymphoma. He had it when we met, but he was in remission. Unfortunately, it came back and then he died.”

Alex stared at her. “You knew he was dying when you married him?”

“I knew the disease was likely to reoccur and that the odds of us growing old together were slim.”

“Why would you do that?”

Paige smiled. “Because I loved him. Because I would rather have had a short time with him than none at all.”

Annoyance flared into something bigger and hotter. “You were willing to give up your career for some guy who was dying, but you broke up with me because your career was all-important?”

“I told you, Ben taught me to compromise. Besides, you never wanted to marry me.”

“Oh, yeah? How do you know?”

One corner of her mouth turned up. “You never asked.”

This was not how he’d wanted the evening to go. He stood and put the glass back on her dresser. “I won’t bother you anymore,” he said stiffly.

“You’re not a bother.”

Anger gave energy to his stride as he walked to the door. “I’ll see you in the morning. Good night.”

“Alex, wait.”

But he didn’t. Instead he stepped into the hall and closed her door behind him.

He stood there in the darkness, but she didn’t come out. She didn’t beg him to return. And then he didn’t know why he’d left in the first place, but it was too late to change that now.

Joe walked through the winery. Funny how this was the one place he could usually find to be alone. No Grandma Tessa trying to feed him or talk about his ex-wife. No Brenna wanting to talk about grapes or his ex-wife, or Mia wanting to talk about God knows what, including his ex-wife, with Ian offering a hundred different opinions. No Darcy.

He didn’t have a specific complaint about her, except he was an idiot where she was concerned. He wasn’t supposed to even like her. She should be a nonperson. Simply the subject to be kept safe. Nothing more. But she was real and alive, and for some reason he’d yet to figure out, she got to him.

In an effort to distract himself, he walked into Lorenzo’s office. The old man wasn’t there-a good thing because Joe wasn’t interested in going another round on inheritance, his future, or changing his name from Larson to Marcelli.

He glanced at the old ledger books, the charts that detailed production, and the big map on the wall-the one that showed all the Marcelli land, and most of Wild Sea next door. He moved closer and traced the line of the coast, then studied the elegant script that spelled out the family name.

He wasn’t one of them, never had been, never would be. But no matter how many times he told them, they ignored him. It was as if they thought they could make him believe by their combined force of will. As if they could force him into what they saw as his destiny.

A familiar slow step caught his attention. He turned to the doorway and saw Lorenzo enter the room. The old man nodded at Joe, then made his way to his desk where he sat down heavily.

“There are too many women in this family,” he announced as he rested his cane against the desk. “There always have been. God could have blessed me with five grandsons, but instead he saw fit to surround me with women.” He leaned back in his chair and eyed Joe. “You had the right idea. Join the navy and leave the women behind.”

Joe grinned. “They’re letting women in the navy these days. Even on the ships.”

“Fools. It was better before. When a man could be alone with his thoughts. Now-all the talking. If Tessa is awake her lips are moving, and not in prayer.”

Joe held in his amusement. “At this point, she’s not going to change.”

Lorenzo nodded. “I know. She makes me tired. Of course you would know that. A man learns things when he takes a wife.”

Joe groaned. “Not you, too.”

“Of course me.” The old man shook his head. “You didn’t tell us.”

“It didn’t matter. The marriage was long over before I knew about the Marcellis.”

Before Joe could respond, Ian popped his head in the office. “Hey. There you are. I thought I’d find you here. Hi. We’re going to be heading out. Mia and I want to go down to San Diego for a few days before coming back here. Joe, you think you could get us on base? It would be really cool to see some of the ships and planes and stuff up close. I’d really like to.”

Ian stepped into the office and looked around. “Great place. Marcelli is the best. Everything is so interesting here. I really like the wine stuff. Mia doesn’t know much, but we’ve done tasting and watched the guys working. If I wasn’t going into government work, I think I’d want to work with wine. But here. Not in Napa or up there. I grew up here.” He spotted the map on the wall. “Cool. I know this part of the coast. My grandfather took me fishing out here all the time.”

Ian traced a spot on the map and grinned at Joe. “There are some caves here. A few are really deep. You can get a big boat in them. Some fill up with every tide, so you don’t want to be there at the wrong time. It could be really bad. But I liked the caves. You probably know all about swimming in caves, from being a SEAL. Right? Maybe you two could go fishing. Or if you wait until Mia and I come back, I could go with you.”

Ian actually paused for breath. Lorenzo looked shell-shocked while Joe took advantage of the lull. “Is that Mia calling you?” he asked.

“What? Oh, she doesn’t know I came in here. I’d better go find her. Thanks for everything. You guys have been great.” He shook hands with Lorenzo, then turned to Joe. “Mia thinks you’re terrific. She’s always talking about you and-”

Joe pulled his hand free. “Thanks. You’d better go find her. You know how Mia gets.”

“What? Oh, right.”

Ian disappeared. Joe crossed to the chair opposite Lorenzo’s and sank down. “Not my favorite guy.”

Lorenzo frowned. “What does she see in him?”

“Nothing.”

“Then why is she with him? I want Mia married and having babies, but not with that one.”

Joe agreed. “Mia isn’t interested in settling down right now. So she picks men who don’t challenge her. She could never be with someone she didn’t respect. That means she’s protected-she won’t fall in love with someone like Ian.”

Lorenzo stared at him. “You have considered this.”

He shrugged. “I’ve had a lot of free time since I got here.”

“You have been around the women too long. They are changing your brain. Come. We’ll go taste from the barrels. You can tell me what you think.”

Lorenzo slowly rose to his feet. Leaning heavily on the cane, he led the way into the barrel room, where he motioned for one of the workers to come along. Small samples of wine were poured and glasses handed around.

Joe braced himself for a volley of criticism. There was no way he could survive a barrel tasting with his limited knowledge. Despite three years of visits to the Marcellis, he still preferred beer to wine.

“You taste what will be there in the future,” Lorenzo said, swirling the liquid in his glass and studying it. “The hints of how the flower will blossom.” He inhaled the smell of the wine. “It is still young. Like a child. But when it grows, what will it become?”

Joe took a sip and grimaced. The flavor was too sharp, too thick, too much of everything. Before he could say anything, Lorenzo also tasted the wine.

“You see,” he said. “The blending has already begun.”

“Uh-huh.”

The old man’s eyes narrowed. “What do you taste?” he asked sharply.

Joe shrugged and told the truth. “Really bad wine.”

Lorenzo muttered something under his breath before saying, “You know nothing of us. Nothing of our wine. You should know. This should be who you are.”

Joe was tired of the argument, tired of the criticism. “Who’s fault is that?” he asked, allowing his temper to get the best of him. “If I remember correctly, you’re the one who made sure I was sent away, so don’t go blaming me for what I do and don’t know. You’re responsible, old man.”

“That was a long time ago,” Lorenzo snapped. “You know about us now. You should be here, married, having babies. You owe this family.”

Joe set down his glass. “I owe you nothing. After thirty years I find out about you. So what? I have a whole life that doesn’t include you or the Marcellis. You get that? I made my own way in the world. You came looking for me when it was finally convenient. You keep pushing, but I’m not interested.”

Lorenzo narrowed his gaze. “So now you say you don’t want your family. What kind of man thinks such a thing?”

“I do.”

“Because the navy is so wonderful? What happens when you get old, eh? They won’t want you anymore. But here, we will always want you.”

“That’s bullshit,” Joe yelled, matching Lorenzo’s rising voice. “You don’t want me. You want some stud service to continue the family name because you have an outdated concept of a woman’s place in the world. Brenna’s doing this a whole lot better than I ever could.”

“Wow.”

Joe turned and saw Darcy standing in the barrel room. She looked more amused than shocked by all the shouting.

“What do you want?” he demanded.

She folded her arms over her chest and leaned against the wall. “If anyone was curious about the two of you being related, this moment would satisfy them. You even yell the same. Anyway, Mia and Ian are packed up and leaving. I thought the two of you might want to say good-bye.”

Lorenzo shook his head. “That girl,” he said as he limped out of the room.

Darcy stayed where she was, watching Joe.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you for a screamer,” she said. “But you were matching him, decibel for decibel. It kinda kills my image of the cool, collected SEAL.”

“He pisses me off.”

“I guess.” Her mouth curved into a smile. “Who would have thought Grandpa Lorenzo could take on the big, bad military guy and win.”

He moved close and stared down at her. “I know forty-seven ways to kill you with my bare hands.”

“Uh-huh.” The smile widened. “And I can bring you to your knees with a single sentence.”

No way, he told himself, liking how she wasn’t intimidated by him or the argument.

“Prove it.”

She rested one hand on his chest, drew in a deep breath, and then sighed. “Joe, I think we should talk about our feelings.”