The Marcelli Bride

by Susan Mallery

  Marco nodded at the sales report posted on the wall by the door. “We’re having a good year. My father has done a great job with the winery for many years, but Brenna brings a touch of magic to the wines. She knows what our customers want.”

  “She’s working hard,” Joe acknowledged, wondering if he was about to get nailed again.

  Marco struck immediately. “She could use some help.”

  Joe regretted sitting down. “I’m sure she can hire a good manager to help after the baby’s born.”

  “It’s more than that,” Marco told him. “Joe, I know you love what you do with the navy, but in time that will end. You’ll put in your twenty and retire. Then what? Where will you go? We would like you to come here. You’re a Marcelli, Joe. You belong here.”

  Joe stood. “Look, Marco, I know what you want, what the whole family wants. It’s not going to happen. I appreciate that you’re trying. It’s great. You guys are terrific, but this isn’t my world and you’re not….” He hesitated, not sure he could say they weren’t his family again. Hadn’t he hurt enough people already that morning?

  “This isn’t for me,” he finished lamely.

  Marco nodded without speaking, but Joe saw the pain in his eyes. Whoever thought families were a good idea, he wondered as he excused himself and escaped into the quiet of the hallway. Give him a nice armed insurgence any day. At least there he would know what to do.

  • • •

  Paige faced the special agent in charge and prepared to do battle. “You’re not reporting Joe to his superior officer,” she said, going for a calm, but forceful, tone.

  “I am,” Alex said flatly. “What he did is inexcusable.”

  “I agree he screwed up, but that’s no reason to serve him up on a platter. I’m sure he was shocked by what happened.” She’d been shocked. It had been a long time since the president’s daughter had gotten involved with anyone, and if Paige were offering opinions, she would bet Joe was one of the good guys, but Joe and Darcy? It didn’t seem very likely.

  “He left her alone,” Alex reminded her.

  “No, he didn’t. Agent Briggs was with them.”

  “He didn’t know that. It’s my decision, and I’m not changing my mind.”

  He turned to leave, but Paige grabbed his arm to hold him in place. Temper flared in his dark blue eyes, but she had a feeling he wouldn’t shake her off.

  “It’s not about Joe,” she told him. “If you report him, you’ll have to explain the circumstances. You’ll have to talk about the fact that they kissed. Darcy will be humiliated. Give the girl a break.”

  “There are rules to follow,” Alex began.

  “Oh, and you’ve never once bent them?”

  “No.”

  Figures. “Try being human,” she said. “Just this once. You’ve already lectured Joe. He’s not going to screw up again.”

  “He shouldn’t have screwed up at all. He knows better. He can’t walk around thinking with his dick. He needs his brain engaged.”

  She looked at him and sighed. “I don’t remember you being this much of a bastard before.”

  “My only concern is Darcy’s safety.”

  “What about her happiness?”

  “She won’t be very happy when she’s dead.”

  He was right, Paige realized. They were talking about Darcy’s life, and there was no room for error. She released him.

  “Giving up?” he asked.

  She nodded. “Darcy is my primary concern. I want her alive and happy, but if I only have one choice, I’ll pick alive.”

  • • •

  Darcy curled up in the library. It was a quiet spot in the Marcelli house, and she liked the view she had of the vineyards out the east-facing window. She also liked that she was completely and totally alone, and not scared about it. When she’d returned from her visit with Grandpa Lorenzo, she’d informed Paige she would stay in for the rest of the afternoon, which meant she didn’t have to deal with any security.

  Now, as she leaned back in the big leather chair, she breathed in a sense of peace. Maybe it was knowing there were so many people around to keep her safe. Maybe it was because her brain still buzzed with the memory of Joe’s kiss. Maybe her astrological moon was rising into a better house. Whatever the reason, she didn’t care. Feeling good was fabulous.

  She picked up her book, then set it down again. She’d loved the feel of his body against hers. It had been a long time since a man had held her as if he meant it. She wouldn’t mind a repeat of the kiss and maybe a little bit of time spent playing the bases with Joe. Not that he was likely to offer, but a girl could dream.

  The door to the library opened and the star of her sexual fantasies walked in. He glanced around, then spotted her.

  “Oh. You’re here.”

  She smiled, not the least bit put out by his sullenness. From what she could tell, Joe hated everyone. His attitude wasn’t personal. “I’ve always admired a man who handled his abundance of charm with such grace. It’s so elegant.”

  “I’m having a bad day.”

  “Should I take that comment personally?”

  “What?” He closed the door behind him then crossed to the window. “No. It’s not about, you know.”

  You know? How interesting. The big, bad Navy SEAL couldn’t say kiss ? He prowled the room like a tiger, and she had the urge to tweak his tail.

  “I don’t know, actually. What are you talking about?”

  He glared at her. “Our kiss.”

  “Oh. That.”

  His eyebrows drew together, and she had a feeling he was going to start yelling at her. All that energy, she thought, more intrigued than afraid. He must have been one fine soldier.

  “I hate Ian,” he grumbled.

  The change of subject caught her off guard for a second. “He’s not so bad.”

  “He’s not sleeping with your sister.”

  “That’s true.” She tilted her head. “You’ve never claimed one of the Marcellis as family before.”

  “Don’t read anything into it. It’s just Mia’s a baby. She thinks she’s wild and tough, but she’s not.”

  “And you worry about her.”

  He stopped in midstride and glared.

  “Don’t worry,” she said. “My lips are sealed. Besides, even if I wasn’t interested in keeping your secrets, I don’t want to mess up a good thing. I like it here.”

  “Don’t sound so surprised.”

  “I am. I didn’t think I would. There are too many people and it’s so wide open here. But I like the whole family. You should try to appreciate what you have.”

  “Look, I’ve heard enough of that to last a lifetime.”

  “If you were smarter, you’d realize how lucky you are to have found the Marcellis.”

  “They found me.”

  “And you’ve been fighting them ever since.”

  He returned to the window. “Can we change the subject?”

  “We can, but I don’t want to. Besides, if you hate what we’re talking about, you could leave.”

  His silence told her he couldn’t. But why?

  “Are you hiding out here?” she asked.

  “I’m running out of places to go.”

  A feeling she understood. She uncoiled her legs and rested her feet on the floor. “Okay. I’ll stop torturing you for sport, but I won’t change the subject. You have a terrific family. You’re crazy if you don’t appreciate that.”

  He looked at her. “Why does it matter so much to you?”

  Because he had everything she’d ever wanted. “My family is small, and we’re not so close,” she said instead.

  “Then you take ’em. I want to get back to base.”

  “So the navy is your real home?” she asked.

  “Yeah.”

  “It must be nice to spend your day saving the world.”

  His gaze narrowed, as if he thought she might be teasing him. Darcy did her best to look innocent, although the excessive blinking
might have given her away. But before Joe could get all macho on her again, the door opened and Grandma Tessa stepped inside.

  “Joseph,” she said tentatively, her expression fearful. “I thought you’d come inside.” She nodded at Darcy. “I made sandwiches. You didn’t come to lunch.”

  He looked at her, then back out the window. “I’m not hungry.”

  Darcy winced as the old woman seemed to shrink two inches. “All right, Joseph.”

  Tessa turned and left.

  Darcy stood, walked over to Joe, and socked him in the arm as hard as she could. He looked at her.

  “What was that for?”

  “It’s for whatever you did to Grandma Tessa.”

  Joe stared hard at the view. “Get off of me.”

  She socked him again. He didn’t budge, but she really hurt her hand. “What did you do?” she demanded.

  “Nothing.”

  “Tell me or I’ll start talking about girl stuff.”

  He winced. “I can handle it.”

  Oh, no he couldn’t. She searched her memories for something that would bring him to his knees.

  “I was twelve when I got my first period,” she began.

  He swore. “Fine. I had a fight with Brenna. I told her the Marcellis weren’t my family. Tessa walked in and heard me.”

  She sucked in a breath. “That bites. How could you do that to her? She’s an old woman who loves you.”

  “I didn’t do it on purpose,” he yelled as he turned toward her. “Okay? I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.”

  She leaned toward him. “Well, don’t apologize to me. And don’t yell. Besides if you were really sorry, you would have taken her sandwich.”

  He opened his mouth, then closed it. “What?”

  “The sandwich.The sandwich. Man, you might know a whole bunch about guns and rescuing people but you don’t know anything about women, do you? Ever hear the expression ‘food is love’? Tessa is old-world Italian. She shows her affection by feeding her family. Every time she offers you food, she’s offering you love. When you reject the meal, you reject her.”

  “That’s stupid.”

  She really wanted to hit him again, but her knuckles still hurt. “No, it’s not. Just eat the food.”

  “I don’t want to,” he said as he walked out of the library. “This is all bullshit.”

  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.”