The Marcelli Bride

by Susan Mallery

  She couldn’t think, couldn’t speak; she could only react, tilting her head slightly so he could kiss her more. Because it felt good.Better than good.

  His lips were an impossible combination of yielding and firm. He held her with just the right amount of possession. Heat surrounded her, melting all the hard edges and drying her tears. She raised her hands to his shoulders and allowed herself to be swept away by the soft pressure.

  He didn’t deepen the kiss, but she was okay with that. It had been a long time since she’d wanted a man, so long she’d almost forgotten what it felt like to feel the first fluttering of desire low in her belly. Her breasts went from simply a sticky-out part of her body to exquisitely sensitive, and her legs actually got weak.

  When he stepped back, she didn’t know what to say. Embarrassment battled with self-preservation. When in doubt, be a bitch. But before she could say anything to shatter the moment, she caught a glimpse of something dark and powerful in his eyes.

  Need.

  He hadn’t just kissed her to stop her crying. He’d kissed her because he’d wanted to. The revelation kept her mouth shut and opened her mind to a thousand amazing possibilities.

  “Hell,” he muttered.

  She nodded in agreement. Talk about a complication.

  “I’m—” He shook his head, as if not sure what to say. Then he turned on his heel and walked away.

  Darcy watched him go. When he had disappeared into the grove of trees they’d been heading for in the first place, she picked up her sketch book and pencils and started for the house. Around her, the morning stirred to life. She heard birds and someone driving up to the winery.

  What on earth had just happened? She’d spilled her guts to Joe, and then he’d kissed her. Even more amazing, she’d felt it. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d allowed herself to engage sexually. The few physical relationships she’d had in her past had all ended badly. It had seemed smarter to not go there again.

  But now, with Joe, she found herself anticipating the next time she would see him. Oh, sure, it would be awkward, but they’d get over it. Besides, she would have the thrill of knowing he’d wanted to kiss her. Which made for a very good day.

  • • •

  Joe avoided the house for the next couple of hours, but he knew he couldn’t stay away forever. What the hell had he been thinking? Talk about letting the little head run his life. Darcy was supposed to be under his protection, not in his arms. Was he looking for ways to screw up his career more? Because if he was, he’d found a hell of a good way to do it.

  Angry with himself for being an ass, her for being so damn tempting, and the world in general because he was stuck here, he stalked into the house and found Brenna sitting in the kitchen. She had a plate of pasta in front of her and several slices of bread next to her glass of milk.

  “Morning,” she said cheerfully when she saw him.

  He glanced at the clock. It was barely ten-thirty.

  She followed his gaze. “Hey, I’m eating for the team. Don’t you dare get coffee,” she ordered when he started toward the pot.

  “What? If you can’t have any, no one else gets to?” he asked as he poured himself a mug.

  “Exactly. Oh, man. It’s great, isn’t it?”

  He took a long, slow drink. “Not bad.”

  She groaned. “Pig.” Then she stabbed several pieces of penne and chewed on them.

  “You’ll be able to drink coffee soon,” he told her.

  “Not if I’m breast-feeding. And I plan to, for at least a while. I mean I think I can have a little, but it won’t be the same. I miss my pot of coffee. And wine. And pretty much everything else I had to give up. This had better be an amazing baby, because if it’s not, I’m writing a letter of complaint.”

  “I can’t wait to see who you mail it to.”

  She grinned. “I’m Catholic, big guy. I have access to spiritual management you can only dream about.”

  “So I’ve heard.”

  He pulled out a chair and settled across from her. “Is this a late breakfast or an early lunch?”

  “It’s my meal in between. I’ve been starving for days. Not sure why. Maybe the baby’s having a growth spurt. Do they do that?”

  “Do I look like I know?”

  “Not especially. I brought you something.” She pointed to the stack of books on the table. “Since you’re stuck here for a while I thought you’d like a chance to find enlightenment.”

  He glanced at the books and saw several of them were textbooks on wine making and grape growing.

  This was Brenna—subtle as an explosion. Too bad he wasn’t interested in playing the game.

  “Not for me,” he said.

  “Oh, come on, Joe. You could look them over. Read a few pages. You might find yourself fascinated.”

  “Brenna, don’t push me on this.”

  “Why not? I’m pregnant. It’s not as if you can threaten me physically. Besides, it’s time you accepted who you are—a Marcelli. Wine is cool.”

  He swore under his breath, then pushed to his feet. “I’m not interested and I’m never going to be interested. Not in this place, the land, or the wine. Just so we’re all clear on the subject. This isn’t my home, and you’re not my family.”

  A flick of movement caught his attention. He turned and saw Grandma Tessa standing in the doorway that led to the dining room. Her eyes were wide and filled with pain.

  Perfect, Joe thought grimly. The day was going just perfect.

  He hesitated, not sure what to say, then he figured there weren’t any words and he stalked out of the house.

  • • •

  Darcy wandered through the various rooms of the winery. Although Brenna had given a very detailed tour, she couldn’t remember what all the equipment was for. The various barrels were marked, but not in any language she recognized. She supposed there was a code that explained what was inside, when it had been put in the barrel, and maybe even when it was supposed to come out.

  All so interesting, she thought, breathing in the thick scent of grapes and wine and something yeasty—almost like bread. She found herself wanting to know more about the process and how the decisions were made.

  “So you’re intrigued.”

  She turned and found Grandpa Lorenzo standing behind her. “I’ll admit it,” she told him with a smile. “I didn’t realize how much I didn’t know about wine until I got here. I don’t drink it much at home, and when I go out, someone else usually picks.”

  “Without wine, there can’t be life,” the elderly man told her. “Come. I will show you.”

  He leaned heavily on his cane as he led the way into another room filled with large, stainless steel vats.

  “The white wines,” he said. “Chardonnays and blends. Different kinds of barrels give a different taste.”

  “But how can metal give a taste at all?” she asked.

  “You are right. The wine is different because it doesn’t have the flavors of the wood. We play tricks with the grapes. We tease them and coax them. Sometimes they listen, sometimes they do not. Like children. We know what is best, but there are times everyone has to learn on his own.”

  He led her into a room filled with all kinds of equipment and a narrow conveyor belt that looked like a snake. “We bottle here. You will come and watch. It’s very interesting. Brenna can’t stand to be here. She says the treatment is too hard on the wine and it makes her sad to see it battered.”

  He pointed out where the barrels were emptied and how the liquid flowed into the bottles. Labels were applied, corks pushed in, then sealed with foil coverings.

  “So many things can go wrong,” Lorenzo told her. “The bottles don’t move, the wine doesn’t pour, the labels are crooked. But we persevere and then we have this….”

  He opened a door, and she saw cases of wine nearly stacked to the ceiling. They were everywhere, leaving only enough space for a small table, a phone, and an intercom.

  “My retreat,�
� he said. “When I want to be alone. I like the room when it’s like this—crowded before the trucks come to take the wine away. In a few days it will be empty. I spend my afternoons out here. Tessa worries about me. I’m too old to be alone.” He touched the intercom. “I call her from here. It buzzes in the kitchen. But still she worries. An old woman.”

  Darcy heard the love in his voice, and it made her feel warm inside. They had to have been married fifty or sixty years, yet there was still caring, still affection.

  “You’re very lucky,” she said.

  “You would think so, eh, but look at this.” He opened one of the cases and pulled out a bottle of chardonnay. He pointed at the label. “The same one for too many years. But can we get a new one? No. Brenna brings me designs. They’re so bad. Animals and flowers. We are Marcelli Wines. We have a proud tradition.”

  His voice lowered and his expression softened. “Now she has a baby of her own to keep her busy. So the labels will stay, and we will go on.”

  “I can’t believe she runs two wineries,” Darcy said. “That’s pretty amazing.”

  “Yes. Too much, sometimes, but she’s stubborn. When I wouldn’t let her run Marcelli, she started her own label. Foolish girl. But the first releases are out. She scored high and sold everything within a week.”

  There was pride in his voice. Darcy understood that Grandpa Lorenzo would be an exacting boss, but she wouldn’t mind dealing with the old man. For him, family was everything.

  “You have a sister?” he asked.

  “Yes. Lauren.”

  Lorenzo nodded. “And your mother?”

  “She died when I was sixteen. My father never remarried. In politics it’s difficult to find the time to have a personal life.”

  “Still, a man shouldn’t be alone. It’s not right. Look at my Joe. Alone for too many years.”

  Darcy laughed. “You’re not subtle, are you?”

  “I’m an old man who wants to see his only grandson married. He’s a handsome fellow. Strong. He would be a good provider.”

  Darcy grinned. “Yes, and he seems to have very nice teeth. I’m sure he’ll be a good breeder.”

  Lorenzo smiled. “You tease me.”

  “A little. I don’t think Joe is interested in me that way.” Although he had just kissed her. Hmm, the lip-pressing did sort of make things more intriguing.

  “You could make him interested,” Lorenzo said. “You have ways.”

  “Not as many as you’d think.”

  “Darcy?”

  She heard someone calling her name. A familiar someone. Male, tall, and with good teeth.

  “We’re in here,” she yelled.

  Joe walked into the storage room. “Paige and Alex were going crazy. You disappeared.”

  “Oh, sorry. Your grandfather and I were just talking.”

  “About you,” Lorenzo said. “About your heritage.”

  Joe shook his head. “Not now, old man. Let me get Darcy back to her Secret Service team.”

  “What about this family?” Lorenzo demanded, banging his cane on the wooden floor. “What about your duty to it? You should be married and having babies.”

  “Okay, gotta go,” Darcy said, taking that as her cue to leave. She waved and hurried out of the room. Oh, yeah. Hanging with Alex and Paige was much less pressure than dealing with Joe’s inability to get along with his family.

  Joe watched Darcy duck out. Lucky her. She could simply walk away.

  “I’m not interested in getting married,” he said calmly.

  “So we all know. And what will happen when you are? What will you call her?”

  Joe frowned. “My wife?”

  “Will she be a Larson? That is not your real name. You are a Marcelli. You should take back the family name. Be proud you are one of us.”

  “Not in this lifetime,” Joe growled as he turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Change his name? He was Joe Larson, always had been. It was bad enough the old man pressured him about getting married, and now Brenna expected him to learn more about the winery.

  The need to run, to bolt for freedom, quickened his step, but there wasn’t anywhere to go. As long as Darcy Jensen was in residence, he was trapped.

  He’d barely made it to the barrel room of the winery when he ran into Alex Vanmeter. The head of security didn’t look happy as he glared at Joe and announced, “We have to talk.”

  8

  Alex led Joe around to the back of the winery and checked to make sure they were alone. Then he turned on Joe and let loose.

  “What were you thinking?” the agent demanded. Fury tightened his features and sharpened his voice. “You are our liaison with the family. You’re a goddamn trained SEAL. You’re supposed to be protecting Darcy, not putting her in danger. You have no right to prance around here, sucking face with the president’s daughter.”

  Joe groaned. Between his family and Darcy, he was in the seventh level of hell and sinking fast.

  He didn’t have to ask how Alex knew about the kiss. No doubt the agent on duty had followed them and seen the whole thing.

  “Do you know what we’re up against?” Alex demanded. “This is not an easy location to keep secure.”

  “Then you shouldn’t have picked it,” Joe told him. “I’m doing my job, and that’s all you get from me. Darcy can kiss who she wants. It’s not putting her at risk, so you can stop the lecture.”

  Alex’s expression hardened. “You’re right, Lieutenant Commander. Kissing her didn’t put her at risk, but walking off and leaving her alone sure did.”

  Joe stiffened. Alex was right. Joe had reacted in the moment, both by kissing her and then by stalking off. He’d needed to get away, to figure out what he thought he was doing. In that moment he hadn’t considered who Darcy was or why she was here. If that other agent hadn’t been there…

  He swore long and loudly.

  “My thoughts exactly,” Alex said. “I’ll be e-mailing a report to your commanding officer. I don’t imagine you’ll be with us much longer.”

  Joe knew he’d more than earned the action. He heard a flushing sound, followed by the visual of his career slipping down the toilet. The hell of it was, this time he had no one to blame but himself.

  “In your position, I would do exactly the same,” he said quietly. “You’re right. I left the subject unprotected. If your man hadn’t been there, she would have been completely exposed and vulnerable. It won’t happen again.”

  Alex didn’t look convinced. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Because I don’t make the same mistake twice. Because I know my job.”

  Alex shook his head. “Fine. Then remember to do it the next time you’re alone with Darcy.”

  He turned and walked away.

  Joe stared after him. What was wrong with him? He knew better. Why had he reacted to Darcy? Why had he kissed her?

  It wasn’t just because she was a woman. He’d worked with women before. Dozens of times. A lot of them had been prettier, smarter, or sexier, and he’d never once lost sight of his objective. Enemy operatives had attempted to seduce him with some highly erotic practices, and he’d ignored them all.

  So why Darcy?

  “Joe! There you are.”

  Mia rounded the corner of the building with Ian in tow. Joe’s bad mood worsened when he saw the tall, thin young man. There was something about Ian that got on his nerves. Reason number one surfaced the second the lanky blond caught sight of him.

  “Hey, Joe,” Ian said cheerfully. “How’s it going? We’ve been walking around the winery. It’s so great here. I’ve never been to a winery before.” He chuckled. “I’ve never been much of a wine drinker. But yesterday afternoon Mia took me over to the tasting room. It’s really nice there. I like the garden and all the grass around it. She said you guys have weddings there. It would be beautiful for a wedding. Anyway, we had lots of different wines. We tried all the merlots and had a couple of the Four Sisters pinots. Those were really great. Mia told
me all about Brenna starting her own winery. That’s really cool. That she would do that. You’re in the navy, right? A SEAL? I saw that movie. Navy SEALs. It was great. Macho. Didn’t that one guy get shot? Huh. I guess if they’d had you along, that wouldn’t have happened? Oh, the Secret Service cleared me. But I guess you knew that. I’m still here.”

  When he paused for breath, Mia jumped in. “So how are things?”

  Joe shrugged. “Fine.” He stared at Ian. What did she see in the guy? Mia caught his gaze and grinned, as if she could read his mind. She mouthed something that looked very much like “he’s really good in bed,” which he didn’t want to know.

  “I haven’t had a chance to talk to Darcy,” Ian said. “What’s she like? She’s prettier in person, don’t you think? Of course I really like Lauren. She’s always helping with those sick kids and it was really sad when her husband died. It was in that ice storm, wasn’t it? When D.C. was shut down and his car went off the road. I saw their whole wedding. I was in high school and my mom had this big party and all her friends came over and watched. She made these funny sandwiches and a little wedding cake. It was really good, with a chocolate filling.”

  Joe started backing away. “I, ah, gotta write a report,” he said, interrupting Ian’s flow of conversation. “See you guys around.”

  With that, he ducked into a rear door of the winery and wandered the halls as he headed toward the front of the building. As he rounded a corner, he saw Marco sitting in an office and knocked on the open door.

  “Joe! Come in. What are you doing here?”

  “Escaping Ian. Mia’s had some interesting guys before but never anyone like him,” he said, taking a seat.

  “I know.” Marco leaned back in his chair. “I’m never fond of anyone my youngest daughter is sleeping with, but Ian is worse than most. I try to tell myself that he’s basically a nice guy, even though he never stops talking. Besides, your mother likes him, as does mine.”

  Joe didn’t react to Colleen being called his mother, or the guilt he felt over what had happened with Tessa. Instead he focused on the topic at hand. “Then they’re too easy.”