The Marcelli Bride

by Susan Mallery

  Wanting slammed into her like a shot from a .45. Need joined it, making her hungry and weak and suddenly afraid.

  Then time righted itself and she was back in the kitchen, a very different person than she’d been before.

  “This isn’t a game, Paige. This is deadly serious.”

  She nodded, not sure if he meant the situation with Darcy, the trouble with Mia, or what was happening between him and her.

  He dropped his hand, grabbed his iced tea, and walked away. She was left alone in the kitchen, shaken, aroused, and confused as hell.

  • • •

  Darcy sat in front of the window, doing her best to draw the vineyard. The problem was her view was limited by a couple of large trees. As much as she would like to walk outside and find the perfect spot for an afternoon of drawing, she wasn’t sure she was willing to put up with the security entourage that would accompany her. Their silent but very real presence wouldn’t do much for her creativity.

  Before she could decide if the pain was worth the price, someone knocked on the door. Before she could say anything, it burst open and Mia bounced into the room.

  “I can’t believe you’re here,” the younger Marcelli said as she jumped onto the bed and stretched out. “It’s very exciting. I’m the youngest. You knew that, right? Mom made one last attempt to have a son, and I came along. They’ve hidden their disappointment pretty well. And now they adore me, so they’re stuck, right? Plus they have Joe. So, you’re here. Wow. How are you adjusting? Was it too horrible being kidnapped? I’ll bet you were brave. You look like the brave type. I would have screamed and begged and really embarrassed myself, I just know it. Do you like having Secret Service agents all around? I met Alex. He’s hunky.” She glanced around, as if checking that they were alone, then lowered her voice. “Do you, like, get to have sex with the agents? Is that too personal? Should I wait a couple of days before asking that?”

  Darcy put down her pencil and stared at her visitor. “Honest to God, I have no idea what to say to you.”

  Mia tucked her hands behind her head and beamed. “I know. I often have that effect on people, but they love me anyway.”

  “I can only imagine.”

  Mia sat up. “They searched the car. I turned into the driveway, and these men appeared from nowhere. They had guns and ordered me to stop. I had to show them ID, then they searched the car. I think they were looking for a bomb or something. Then they said we could drive up to the house but not to get out of the Jeep until we were instructed to. It’s like being in a spy movie. And the worst part is I can’t tell anyone. That seriously sucks.”

  Darcy felt as if she could barely catch her breath. She’d thought that Brenna was high energy, but Brenna had nothing on Mia.

  “I guess I can talk about it with Ian,” Mia continued. “Of course I can’t talk to him about Alex.” She grinned. “You didn’t answer my question about sex with the agents, did you?”

  “No. And that’s my answer. No. Haven’t, wouldn’t, don’t want to.”

  “But he’s very hunky.”

  “Maybe. I can’t imagine him naked, though. He’s too uptight.”

  Mia sighed and flopped back on the bed. “Oh, I can clearly see him naked, and it’s a very nice picture, let me tell you. Yum.” She raised her head. “You know I’m just playing, right? I say a lot of stuff to make people nervous, but I don’t really mean it. Ian and I are together—at least for now. I wouldn’t cheat on him or anything.”

  “I’m sure Alex will be relieved to hear that.”

  Mia grinned. “You’re not going to tell him are you?”

  “Nope. Let him suffer.”

  “Good. So what do you think of us?”

  “I like the family,” Darcy said and meant it. “Everyone has made me feel really welcome.”

  “We’re like that. The Grands are so cool, and my folks are, too. Are Grammy M and Grandma Tessa still not talking?”

  “They don’t seem to get along.”

  “I hate that.” Mia scooted around so her head was at the foot of the bed, then she flopped over onto her stomach. “I wish they’d make up. But they’re both so stubborn. Maybe having Joe here will help. They adore him. We all do. Not that he’s so crazy about us.”

  The bright light in her eyes faded. “Have you heard how he came to be here?”

  “I know that he was given up for adoption and then found years later.”

  “Yeah. It’s totally horrible that my mom had to do that. Now Joe’s here, but he’s not a part of us, you know. He won’t let anyone get close. I make him crazy, which is fun, but it’s not the same as being, you know, emotionally intimate. Brenna’s the one he gets along with the best, but he holds back from everyone. He doesn’t have a girlfriend.”

  She paused expectantly.

  Darcy did her best to look innocent. “Oh. Should I be taking notes?”

  Mia giggled. “No, but are you interested?”

  “I barely know the man.”

  “What does that matter?”

  “Amazingly enough, it matters to me.”

  “Oh, well. Maybe next time. You should think about it, though. I’ll bet he’s great in bed.” Mia wrinkled her nose. “You know, I don’t think I can talk about Joe’s sex life. As intriguing as it would be, he’s my brother, and there’s a serious ick factor.”

  “I’m sure your family will be delighted to know you have limits.”

  Mia sat up. “I don’t want limits. But there it is. The thought of my brother having sex is gross. So if you guys do it, I don’t want to know.”

  Darcy made an X over her heart. “My lips will be sealed.”

  “He’s probably gorgeous,” Mia added thoughtfully. “Joe naked. I wonder if he has any scars, you know, from wounds and stuff.”

  There was a noise in the hall. Both Darcy and Mia turned toward the open door. Joe stood there. Darcy couldn’t read the expression on his face, but it seemed to be an intriguing combination of horror and fear.

  Mia sighed. “He heard the naked part,” she said in a mock whisper.

  Darcy did her best not to laugh. “Possibly even the sex part.” She cleared her throat. “Hi, Joe. We were just talking about you.”

  Joe’s dark gaze locked with her own. For a second, she would have sworn he’d vowed payback. Then he turned on his heel and left.

  Mia started to laugh. Darcy joined in. She laughed until tears filled her eyes and she could barely breathe. Until that minute she would have said getting kidnapped was one of the worst things that had ever happened to her, but suddenly, she wondered if maybe it hadn’t been so bad after all.

  7

  Darcy was up early because, well, not sleeping had a way of making a person face the dawn. She stood at her bedroom window, watching pale light creep across the vineyards. Suddenly her fingers itched for a pencil. She wanted to capture the moment, the changing light, the way the dew sparkled on the leaves.

  She would never make it as an artist, she acknowledged, pulling on jeans and a T-shirt, then quickly brushing her hair. It was the reason she’d studied graphic arts and advertising in college. But not having an abundance of talent didn’t stop her from wanting to capture the world with a quick sketch on a perfect morning.

  She collected her supplies, then quietly made her way downstairs. The house was still. Reasonable, normal people wouldn’t be up for at least another hour. Which meant she could sneak outside and enjoy the morning in solitude.

  As the thought formed, she felt a tendril of fear snake along her spine. Did she want to be alone? Was it safe?

  “Not going there,” Darcy muttered. She pushed the questions away, along with the chill, and focused on the chance to just be for an hour or so.

  But when she stepped outside, she saw an unfamiliar Secret Service agent in a car by the back door. He got out of the car as soon as he saw her.

  “Morning, Ms. Jensen.”

  “Morning. And it’s Darcy.”

  He nodded. “How can I help y
ou?”

  Part of her wanted to forget it. To just go back into the house and wait until all this was over. But a stronger voice in her head told her that she couldn’t wait much longer without going crazy. She had to start doing something.

  “I want to draw the vineyard this morning,” she said, holding up her sketch pad. “I’m guessing it will take about an hour.”

  “Okay. Give me a second.” He picked up a walkie-talkie and spoke into it.

  No doubt getting permission, she thought glumly. What if they said no?

  Before she could decide on a course of action, she felt a slight prickling between her shoulder blades. She turned and saw Joe coming out of the house.

  Contradictory emotions warred within her. Part of her wondered why she couldn’t spend five minutes alone outside of her bedroom. Another part of her acknowledged that if someone had to disturb the quiet, she wouldn’t mind if it was Joe.

  “You’re up early,” she said.

  “Old habits,” he told her.

  She waited for him to comment on her being awake as well, but he didn’t. Instead he nodded at the pad and pencils.

  “Hoping for inspiration?” he asked.

  “I was, but it’s turning out to be a big deal.”

  The Secret Service agent put down the walkie-talkie. “Okay, I’m ready,” he said, then spoke into his ever-present wrist communicator. “Pigeon is leaving. Repeat, Pigeon is leaving.”

  Joe raised his eyebrows.

  “Don’t say it,” Darcy told him. “My father is Falcon, my sister is Swan, and I’m Pigeon. Does the Secret Service have a sense of humor or what?”

  Joe stepped toward the other man. “Why don’t you stay here,” he told him. “I’ll go with our bird friend while she draws.”

  The agent frowned. “I’m supposed to be with Ms. Jensen, ah, Darcy, as protection.”

  “Check with Paige,” Joe said. “She’ll clear it.” Then, without waiting for approval, he returned to Darcy’s side and pointed toward the vineyard. “Let’s go.”

  “Pretty smooth,” she said when they were out of earshot and walking through vines heavy with grapes. “You said to contact Paige, not Alex, knowing she’s the softer touch.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “What makes you think it’s easier for me to have you along than the other agent?”

  “I don’t call you Ms. Jensen.”

  She smiled. “Good point.” And in truth, she didn’t mind having Joe around.

  “Where are we going?” he asked.

  “Not a clue. We’ll walk until I find inspiration.”

  They continued walking, she in front, he right behind. Dew spattered her arms and soaked her jeans. There was a peacefulness to the quiet, and a sense of safety. As if nothing bad could ever happen here.

  At the other end of that plot of grapes they found a narrow dirt track. Darcy paused to survey the miles of grapes and a cluster of trees to the west.

  “That way,” she said, pointing. As they followed the path, they were able to walk side by side.

  “I talked to my sister last night,” she said. “They’re holding her on some farm in the Midwest. She’s surrounded by cornfields. When I told her about the wine, she was very jealous.”

  Joe looked at her. “You shouldn’t discuss your location, even on a secure line.”

  Darcy grinned. She liked messing with him—it was a little like pulling a tiger’s tail—dangerous but very exhilarating.

  “You think?” she asked with a grin. “Don’t worry, my little SEAL friend. I told her I was in Washington state. They make wine there, too. But as you’re a part of all this, I’m guessing you already know that.”

  He shrugged.

  She studied him. “How much, exactly, do you know about wine?”

  “I’m a beer drinker myself.”

  She winced. “That can’t be good. Aren’t you interested in wine?”

  “No.”

  “But it’s your heritage. It’s in your blood.”

  “I want salt water in my blood.”

  The man was nothing if not consistent, she thought. Still, to have so much right there for the taking. “I envy you,” she said quietly. “It’s just my father, my sister, and me. And I don’t get along all that well with Mr. President.” For reasons she had never discussed with anyone. “Which means it’s pretty much Lauren and me. We’re close, although we’re not that much alike. She’s perfect and I’m—”

  As she spoke, she stumbled on a loose rock in the road. Before she could catch her balance on her own, Joe grabbed her arm and pulled her upright.

  They stood there, in the center of the road, his hand on her arm, his fingers touching bare skin. They were close enough for her to feel the heat from his body and his slow, steady breathing. She could see the various colors of brown that colored his irises and the faint scar on the edge of his jaw.

  Her stomach clenched in anticipation, which was crazy. Nothing was going to happen.

  But for the moment, that single heartbeat of time, she wanted it to. She wanted him to…oh, who knew. Kiss her? Say something sweet? She wasn’t particularly picky, as long as he acknowledged the connection between them.

  But he didn’t, and she started to feel awkward. She pulled free of his grasp.

  “Obviously Lauren is the perfect one,” she said with a laugh that didn’t exactly sound real. “I’m the clumsy one.”

  “You’re still not sleeping.”

  “I know. Some. A little.”

  “Hardly at all.”

  Annoyance replaced her awareness of him. “Haven’t we already had this particular conversation? If you recall, it didn’t end well.”

  “If the objective isn’t achieved on the first mission, the team doesn’t give up.”

  She glared at him. “There are so many things wrong with that statement, I don’t know where to begin. For one thing, you’re not a team, and I’m sure as hell not a mission.”

  He shifted uncomfortably. “You know what I mean.”

  “I do, and it’s insulting.”

  “Darcy, you can’t avoid what happened forever. It’s not going away until you deal with it. The longer you wait the harder it gets.”

  She didn’t want to hear that. She wanted to continue to think that the fear would one day just be gone.

  “Go away,” she said, turning her back on him.

  He put his hand on her shoulder and moved her until they were facing each other again. “No can do. Look, I understand. You think I don’t, but you’re wrong. I’ve been scared and alone and bad things have happened to me, too. I can help.”

  She refused to cooperate. Instead of speaking, she pressed her lips together.

  He looked at her. “You’re stubborn.”

  “It’s one of my best qualities.”

  “Want to take a poll on that?” He lowered his hand from her shoulder and sighed heavily. “Here’s the thing,” he said. “I’ve had years of training and experience. You didn’t have any. When I walk into a dangerous situation I expect trouble, but you were just minding your own business at the mall. Those bastards grabbed you with no warning, and the people whose job it is to protect you screwed up. They weren’t there and they didn’t notice. You were totally and completely alone.”

  She honestly hadn’t believed anyone could understand what it had been like, but with a few words, he showed her that he got it.

  “Tell me what happened,” he said gently.

  She hesitated, then the words came tumbling out. “I w-was in the back of the store and walking to the dressing rooms. They grabbed me. I didn’t have time to scream. They put tape on my mouth and tied my hands behind me, then threw me in the back of a van.”

  She didn’t want to talk about it, she told herself, but she couldn’t stop the words from spilling out. Somehow she was walking and telling him everything. About the van and how dirty it was, how she’d tried to get to her panic button but couldn’t. About the warehouse and being tied to the chair and scar
ed, so scared, they were going to kill her.

  “I tried to get away,” she said. “But there was nowhere to go, and the chair didn’t make things easy. Then I tried to stay calm. I was afraid I was going to throw up, and I didn’t want that. Then the guy in charge showed up. He looked at me and he said—”

  She stopped in the middle of the path. Suddenly it was too hard to hold on to her pencils and sketch pad. They dropped to the ground. She rubbed at her still-healing wrists and wished away the rest of the pain.

  “What?” Joe asked, his voice more gentle than she’d ever heard it before. “What did he say?”

  Oh, God. Tears burned. Weak, stupid tears. She would not give in. Not now.

  “I—He said that I wasn’t the one they wanted.” She summoned anger and glared at him. “There. Are you happy? He said not this one. No one cares about this one. I was a mistake. Then they took me back to the mall, dumped me on the loading dock, and drove away.”

  Jesus. Joe didn’t know what to say to that. What could anyone say? Darcy stared at him, her expression defiant. She was angry, but it was a thin veneer that could crack at any time, and he sure didn’t want to be around when it did.

  Before he could figure out how to respond, she started talking again.

  “I love my sister,” she said, her voice shaking. “Lauren is my best friend. She understands me and loves me. I admire her so much. But the thing is…the very worst thing is, sometimes I hate her.” More tears filled Darcy’s eyes. “I hate her because I’m weak and small and jealous. And then I feel so horrible, because I want to be like her and I don’t know how and everyone loves her best. I’m jealous of my own sister. What does that say about me? What?”

  The last word came on a sob. Joe felt both trapped and deeply inadequate to the task. What was it about a crying woman that reduced most men to cowards? He wanted to bolt, but he couldn’t, so he did the only thing that made sense to him. He pulled her close and kissed her.

  The shock of Joe’s lips on hers was enough to stop Darcy’s tears. One second she’d been in an uncontrolled free fall of self-loathing, and the next she was pressed against a man made entirely of rock, his arms around her body and his mouth very much on hers.