The Marcelli Bride

12

Man, oh man, did Joe know how to kiss. Darcy closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the sensation of his warm mouth on hers. Despite the fact that they’d kissed before, he didn’t attack or assume. Instead he coaxed her into responding. Gentle brushes of flesh against flesh had her wishing for more before he even offered.

He let her get used to the feel of his hard body, his arms around her. He let her inhale the scent of him and melt in his heat. Only then did he lightly nip her lower lip.

He followed the shape of her mouth, tracing the line slowly, so slowly that she finally grabbed him by the back of his head and pulled him close.

Even as he swept inside her mouth, he chuckled. She felt the rumble low in his chest and smiled in return. They were good together, she thought hazily, right before the passion exploded.

The need came without warning. One second she’d been enjoying his kiss, the next she was desperate. Hunger claimed her. Large, powerful, and nearly out of control, it made her cling, reach, seek. She wanted him touching her everywhere, she wanted him naked and ready. Right here, right now.

“Joe,” she breathed, not sure what to say.

He raised his head slightly, and she saw the fire in his eyes. They stared at each other for two heartbeats, then fell together in a frenzy of wanting that left them both breathless.

He kissed her again, but this time he wasn’t kidding. He claimed her, stroking the inside of her mouth with a fervency that made her shake.

She closed her lips and sucked on his tongue. He groaned, then lowered his hands to her hips, where he pulled her against him. She went willingly, wanting to know he was aroused. Her belly brushed against his erection and her insides clenched.

She clung to him, even as she tried to pull at his T-shirt. Bare skin, she thought frantically. She needed bare skin.

He pulled back enough to press his mouth to her cheek, then her jaw. He moved down the side of her neck until he reached her collarbone. The warm, damp trail of kisses made her tremble. At the same time he reached for the front of her sleeveless blouse and began to work the buttons.

“Yes,” she whispered, giving up on his T-shirt and helping him get her undressed.

Even as they fumbled with tiny buttons and impossible fastenings, they kissed, noses bumping, lips missing. In the heat of the moment, perfection didn’t matter.

When her blouse was finally open, he reached for the front clasp of her black bra and opened it one-handed. She had a half second to be impressed with his technique before he bent down and claimed her left breast with his mouth.

The combination of hot, wet kisses, a sucking pressure, and her own building need nearly made her scream. She grabbed his head to hold him in place.

“Don’t stop,” she breathed. “Please, don’t stop.”

Ribbons of pleasure wove their way through her, circling around her breasts before heading to that growing ache between her legs. She felt herself swell and dampen. She wanted him inside her now. Right this second. She couldn’t wait-

He moved to her other breast and flicked his tongue against the tight nipple. She gasped her pleasure. He did it again, then straightened. Before she could protest, he replaced his mouth with his very skilled fingers and kissed her.

Oh, yeah, she thought as she circled his tongue with hers and sank into the pleasure. This was good. Better than good. It was amazing.

He dropped his hands to the waistband of her shorts and unfastened them. Somewhere along the way, she’d already kicked off her sandals.

“I want you,” he breathed into her ear. His breath was hot and tickled in the most erotic way possible. “I want you, Darcy. Hot, wet, and screaming when I make you come.”

Her eyes widened. No one had ever talked to her during sex before. She’d always found the event to be silent and fairly unsatisfying. It looked as if all that was about to change.

A shiver of anticipation rippled through her.

“I can’t promise to scream,” she whispered as he pushed down her shorts and panties.

He pulled back a little and stared at her. His eyes were the color of stormy midnight, his expression predatory. He was a man who wanted a woman and meant to have her. Thrill joined anticipation.

“Can you promise to come?” he asked as he slipped his hand between her thighs.

Someone had given him a schematic, she thought happily as he went directly to her very favorite spot and began to tease it. Electricity shot through her, making her want to get to the finish right away as much as she wanted to make it last forever. He circled and rubbed and then slid his fingers inside of her while his thumb kept up the intimate dance.

“Darcy?”

She forced her eyes open. “What?”

“Can you come?”

The first flicker of promise tightened her muscles. “As long as you keep doing that.”

He gave her a slow, sexy smile designed to bring her to her knees. But before she could stumble, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her onto the desk.

“I’ll go you one better,” he said and slipped between her thighs.

Even as his arousal filled her, stretching her and touching nerve endings starved for a little attention, he returned his fingers to her most sensitive spot. As if that wasn’t enough, he leaned in and kissed her. Talk about multitasking, she thought, as her brain began to shut down in a delicious overload of sensation.

There was heat everywhere. Heat and hunger and the promise of perfect release. Muscles tensed in anticipation. Her body ached. She parted her legs more, then wrapped them around his hips to bring him in closer still.

In and out, in and out. The friction against her slick, swollen center was exactly right. She could feel his tension and knew he was close, but he held back, waiting on her.

“Almost,” she breathed against his mouth. “Joe.”

He stared at her, willing her to come for him. Willing her to scream.

Brenna hauled herself up the back stairs and waddled into the kitchen. She wanted to stalk, but it wasn’t going to happen. Until she gave birth to the planet-size baby she carried, her stalking days were behind her. Along with her dancing days, her running days, and her sleeping days.

“I hate gestating,” she said as she leaned against the counter.

Grandma Tessa smiled in sympathy. “The babies make it worth it.”

Brenna glared at her. “There are no babies. Just so we’re clear. There’s the one baby. Singular.”

Her mother crossed to her and touched her forehead. “Are you feeling all right? You’re flushed.”

“I’m crabby. It’s Joe. He’s being stubborn and pigheaded. I know they’re the same, but it’s annoying. He’s annoying. I hate him.” She sighed. “Okay, not really.”

Her mother offered her a glass of water and she took a sip. Because she needed more pressure on her bladder these days.

“We were talking in the storeroom. Arguing. He won’t listen.”

“He’s stubborn,” Colleen said.

Brenna looked at her mother. “He told Darcy his wife left because of the time he was gone.”

Colleen and Grandma Tessa shared a glance. The older woman reached for her rosary.

“It could be true,” Colleen said. “He believes it. I saw it in his eyes when he told us.”

“That’s not why,” Brenna said. “She left because he wouldn’t let her in. He wouldn’t love her.”

Grandma Tessa shook her head. “We don’t know that.”

“What if that’s the way he is? What if he can’t change.” Her eyes burned with tears. Damn hormones. “I love him. We all do.”

“And we’re going to keep loving him,” Colleen said.

“I know. I wish…” Brenna reached for the intercom. She wanted to tell him to get in here so she could sock him in the stomach, then hug him. Schizophrenic love at its best.

She pushed the intercom and heard a curious sound.

It wasn’t conversation. Not exactly. It was…breathing. Hot, heavy breathing.

She released the intercom and jumped back.

Colleen frowned as Grandma Tessa reached for her beads.

“Dear Lord,” her grandmother said. “What was it? Some giant beast in the storeroom?”

It didn’t sound like an animal to Brenna. “I don’t get it,” she said. “I left Joe in there and passed Darcy on the way…” Understanding dawned. But as soon as the thought formed, she pushed it away.

No. It wasn’t possible. Her stiff-necked brother would never loosen up enough to-

She pushed the intercom again and heard Lieutenant Commander Joseph Larson say something very dirty.

“Oh my God,” Brenna shrieked.

She backed away from the intercom. She looked from her stunned mother to her equally shocked grandmother and began to laugh.

Colleen grinned. “Guess Joe found himself a girl.”

“In the storeroom?” Tessa asked, sounding outraged. “It’s immoral.”

“It’s fun,” Brenna said. “I always hoped he’d find someone, but the president’s daughter? What on earth is he thinking?”

Darcy braced herself on the table and bucked against Joe. So close. So close. He rubbed her center, moving faster and faster until she had no choice but to fly into her release.

She wanted to warn him, to say something, but she couldn’t speak. Her muscles convulsed as she came over and over again. Pleasure poured through her, a river of release. It was good. It was better than good-it was damn close to perfect.

Joe straightened and looked at Darcy. Her eyes were wide, and she was still breathing hard. He tucked her hair behind her ears then leaned in and kissed the tip of her nose.

“Not bad for somebody famous,” he said.

As he’d expected, she grinned, then swatted his arm.

“Not bad for some macho, paramilitary type,” she told him.

“There’s no ‘para’ about it. I am military.”

“Yeah, yeah, like that’s going to impress me.”

He touched her chin so she had to meet his gaze. “You screamed.”

Color rose on her cheeks. “Did not.”

She was right. She hadn’t screamed. But she’d grabbed on to him as if she never wanted to let go, and she’d taken him on the ride of his life.

Reluctantly he stepped back and reached for his jeans.

“Ah, the postcoital cleanup,” she said as she lowered herself to the floor, then reached for her panties and shorts.

He supposed he should feel awkward about what they’d just done. It hadn’t been planned, and he didn’t usually give in to impulses like that. If anyone found out…

He didn’t want to think about that, even though he was going to have to-eventually. But right now there were other issues.

“You’re looking serious.” She finished fastening her bra, then started with the buttons on her blouse. “Regrets?”

“No.” He pulled her close and lightly kissed her. She held on tight. “Questions.”

“Such as?”

“You on any birth control?”

He watched her closely, knowing he would be able to guess by her expression. Instead of panic, he saw something very close to smug victory.

“I’m on the Pill. Aren’t you lucky,” she said, leaning against him.

“Damn straight.” He stroked her short hair. “I usually take precautions. You messed with my mind.”

“Little ol’ me?”

“No one else here.” He felt her tremble. “Darcy? You okay?”

She nodded but wouldn’t look at him. He touched his finger to her chin and raised her head.

“What?” he asked.

She looked defiant, shy, and embarrassed. An amazing trick.

“I’m being sophisticated and worldly,” she said. “Don’t mess that up.”

And then he got it. He lashed out when he felt threatened; she used humor. He thought about her life-the public scrutiny, the Secret Service agents.

“Hard to date when you’re the president’s daughter?” he asked quietly.

“You have no idea.”

He kissed her. “The guys in D.C. are idiots. And not just the ones in office.”

“Thanks.”

“I mean it.”

She raised herself on tiptoe and kissed him. “I know.” A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth. “You’ve just had sex with the youngest daughter of your commander in chief. I think you need to propose now. It’s really the least you can do.”

He wanted to pull her close again, but he respected her need to stay strong.

“Wouldn’t you get nervous if I did?” he said. “It’s almost worth it to see.”

“Almost isn’t the same.” She stepped back and smoothed down the front of her blouse. “How do I look?”

“Sexy.”

She dismissed him with a flick of her hand. “I don’t care about that. Do I look normal? I don’t want anyone guessing what just happened. We have your family to think of, and my security team. Trust me, none of them need to know.”

“Agreed.”

He studied her, taking in the swell of her breasts a whole lot more than the straightness of her clothes, then motioned for her to turn around.

When she’d completed a full circle, she held her arms out at her sides and said, “Well?”

“Perfect,” he said. He moved in and claimed her in a hot, deep kiss that soon had his body ready for round two.

She moaned. “Good idea. Bad timing, but a great idea. We got lucky once. Do you realize the odds of someone walking in on us?”

Amazing how he almost didn’t care.

“I’ll go first,” she said as she pushed away and started for the door. “Wait a few seconds before following.” Her gaze dropped to his crotch, where he knew she could see he was hard again. “Or longer.”

Darcy felt like the beautiful young princess in a classic fairy tale. It was only a matter of time until the birds broke into song and the little woodland creatures gathered supplies to make her a fabulous ball gown.

It was the sex. Parts of her body ached from the physical activities, but it was the kind of ache that made her smile and want to do it again. For that she could thank Joe.

He’d been great. Not just with the mechanics, although he could certainly earn a merit badge in technique and stamina, but with how he’d acted.

He’d made her feel comfortable, both during and after. He’d joked and he’d held her, and best of all, he’d wanted her again. Guys might be able to fake a lot of things, but not an erection that size!

Life was good, she thought as she headed toward the main building of the winery. Who knew getting kidnapped would turn out to be so beneficial for her personal life?

Still smiling, Darcy entered the main building of the winery. She felt more than saw the Secret Service agents behind her, but she ignored them. Today nothing could get in the way of her good mood.

“There you are,” Grandpa Lorenzo said as she started down the hallway. He stood at the entrance to his office. “I’ve been looking for you, Darcy. Come in.”

He sounded so stern and disapproving, she instantly felt guilty. It was all she could do to keep from rushing to his side, grabbing his arm, and promising she would always keep her room clean. Instead she followed him into his office and took the chair he pointed at.

He stared at her for a long time. Darcy stared back, noting the gray in his hair and how tired he looked. Then she ran through a list of possible infractions but couldn’t come up with a single one.

“So, you like the winery,” he said.

She hadn’t had a clue as to what he wanted to talk about, but her liking the winery hadn’t been on the short list.

“Yes,” she said. “Of course. It’s beautiful here, and the process of making wine fascinates me. I know I’m an imposition to your family, but I can’t help hoping I’m here through part of the harvest. I’d like to see the picking and the pressing.”

Lorenzo smiled. “You have the love in your veins. It’s like that for some. You don’t always have to be born into it. You’re young, there’s still time. You could study and be a part of all this.”

She wasn’t so sure about that. She had a feeling that as nice as the Marcelli family had been to her, they wouldn’t be all that sorry to get their lives back. No one enjoyed having Secret Service agents running around on their property.

“Tessa cleaned your room the other day and found this.”

He set something on his desk. It took Darcy a second to realize it was her portfolio. Lorenzo withdrew several large sheets from her sketch pad.

At least they were only drawings, she thought, surprised that Tessa had gone through her stuff and embarrassed that something so private had been viewed by others. Note to self-don’t start a diary while in the Marcelli home.

She drew in a deep breath, preparing herself to take Lorenzo and his wife on about violating her privacy, when he said, “I like these. This one the most.”

He tapped one of the designs, then turned it toward her. “You can make me more like this?”

She stared at the page of wine labels she’d been toying with. There were several incarnations, using the Marcelli name as the centerpiece in some and the house in the others. Lorenzo pointed to the one with the house.

“I like this one. I like the different colors. You’ve done pale for chardonnay, and darker for merlot. So the labels are all the same, but different, yes?”

She nodded slowly. “You like these?”

“Very much. The work Brenna brings me.” He shook his head. “Amateurs. Yes, they draw, they design, but they don’t feel the wine in their blood. They don’t know the land, the work, the grapes. You, Darcy, you feel it in here.” He pounded his chest. “We’ll use these for the new Marcelli labels.”

“W-what?”

“For the wine. Brenna will like them, too. She’s a smart girl. She’ll know how you have to draw them so we can turn them into labels. Stand up to her on the price. She’ll try to talk you down, but this time, I think, we pay more, eh?”

He wanted her labels? On Marcelli wine bottles? “On all of them?” she asked tentatively.

“Yes. For all. You will be a part of us, then.”

Darcy sprang from her seat and raced around the desk. She threw herself at Lorenzo, who gathered her close and hugged her. He was thin and frail under his loose clothes, but he still squeezed her until she couldn’t breathe.

It felt good, she thought happily. It felt great.

When he released her, she grinned. “This is my first real design job. I’ve been trying to find work, but it’s hard. No advertising agency wants to hire me. What client is going to be comfortable complaining about a design by the president’s daughter? So I went back to college to get my master’s degree. I thought that would help, but it hasn’t yet. Until now.”

Lorenzo squeezed her hand. “This isn’t about your education, child. It’s about what you feel in your heart. That’s what’s important. Never forget that.”

Joe finished his afternoon briefing with the security team and headed back for the house. Marco joined him a few feet from the back door and asked him to wait.

“We have to talk,” Marco told him.

Until that moment, Joe had been having a good day. Making love with Darcy might not have been the smartest thing he’d ever done, but it had been one of the best. He’d enjoyed every second of her company. And he hadn’t wanted to go-an unusual situation for a man who generally preferred to be alone.

“What’s up?” he asked.

Marco shook his head. “Next time you might want to make sure the intercom is off.”

Joe felt sucker punched. “You know?”

“Everybody knows.”