by Calista Fox
As she watched him clean up again, her gaze on his large hands, rock-hard biceps, and broad shoulders, she couldn’t think of much beyond her bare chest melded to his … and Vin’s pressed to her back. Their hands and mouths all over her.
What must that feel like?
And how was it that Holly McCormick had experienced it all—and Jewel had not?
She dragged her gaze from Rogen’s shirtless form, his well-defined pecs, his ripped abs on full display and making her mouth water, and went back to the sauce. Before sensory overload made it impossible for her to function.
Rogen said, “If I wouldn’t have answered Vin’s e-mail that day, the two of you would’ve stayed together. You’d still be together.”
Jewel found it oddly difficult to fully validate that notion.
“Maybe,” she said. “Vin’s very unpredictable. Impulsive. Daring. I’m not so sure staying in California and going to SFSU would have panned out for him. Chances are good he would have changed his mind when he realized all he was missing out on by not going to Yale with you.”
“But then he would have been missing out on you. I don’t think he would have chosen Yale, Jewel. Under different circumstances.”
“Doesn’t matter,” she said with a sigh. “Speculating doesn’t alter the course our lives took. It’s all in the past.”
“Really?” He gave her a pointed look. “Or is it all staring you in the face now?”
She moved away, unable to meet those mesmerizing blue eyes of his. Especially without seeing Vin’s piercing green ones as well, in her mind.
Wine was her current escape.
So she’d hoped.
Rogen joined her at the island and asked, “Did you want to end up with Vin?”
Her hand shook, so she set the glass aside. What a loaded question he’d lobbed her way!
“Jewel,” he prompted in a tight tone. “You didn’t tell me about the two of you when you’d intended to do just that. What did you really want when you visited me at Trinity? For me to change my mind about Yale? Come back to California?”
She blinked a couple of times. That was a dream she’d never allowed herself to weave, because it’d seemed too far-fetched. Why torture herself over something that would never be? And she and Vin had had plans to—
The doorbell rang.
Jewel and Rogen stared at each other for several suspended seconds.
Then Rogen tossed aside the dish towel he’d used to dry his hands and said, “I’ll get it. You—” He let out a strangled sound as disconcertion etched his strong visage. “Try to look a little less devastated.”
TEN
Vin had no fucking clue what Rogen and Jewel were up to, but he was cagey, regardless. It wasn’t so much that Jewel had called him on Rogen’s phone. Or that she’d mentioned a business venture. It was that Rogen was here at her house. That his Range Rover was parked in her driveway. That they were together.
Again.
In Vin’s mind, it made him ten kinds of a fool.
Again.
Because he’d wanted her the night of the gala—had even forsaken his own after-party with Holly in hopes of hooking up with Jewel. Yet she’d ended up in Rogen’s bed.
Again.
Vin had wanted her despite that. Had literally not been able to stop himself from taking her at Bristol’s. In a bathroom, goddamn it.
Yeah. That was classy.
But the woman sparked something so explosive and carnal within him that Vin couldn’t help but respond to it. And the fact that she never, ever said no to him … that was enough to make him do crazy-stupid shit like fuck her in a public restroom.
And drive into the city to see her.
When he knew she never, ever said no to Rogen, either.
Vin had always considered himself of decent intellect and sound reasoning. Then Jewel Catalano would show up in a short skirt and high heels … and he instantly became a colossal idiot.
He fell apart for her every single fucking time.
Therefore, he should have been relieved to see it was Rogen who answered the door, not Jewel, so that Vin had a few more minutes to bring his agitation down a notch or ten.
Except that Rogen was yanking the hem of his T-shirt down his stomach and the top button of his jeans was undone.
Vin scowled. “I see I’ve interrupted. You two have turned into horny rabbits?”
“It was just a blow job.”
“There’s no such thing when it comes to Jewel,” Vin said irritably as he stepped into the foyer. So much for dialing down the intensity of his emotions.
“You’re right about that,” Rogen said in an equally tight voice. “Nice technique, by the way.”
Vin shot him a look.
Rogen smirked.
Okay, there’s a little vindication.
Shedding his black leather jacket, Vin added the garment to Jewel’s and Rogen’s on the rack. Gloated inwardly over having taught Jewel a thing or two that likely made Rogen stew.
Granted, Rogen also benefited from the tutelage. But still. It had to rub him raw that she did certain things Vin’s way.
Then again … She likely did certain things Rogen’s way when she was with Vin.
That left Rogen one up on him, since he’d gotten the blow job tonight.
Ten kinds of a fool.
Gonna multiply that number with every minute that passes?
If he were as wise as he claimed to be, Vin would get his ass back in his Maserati and return to River Cross. Let Rogen have Jewel.
Precisely what you should do.
But then he entered the kitchen and she stepped into his arms and clung to him.
What the fuck?
Of course, he hugged her back. Held on tight. He might be a fool, but he’d never pass up a chance to hold her.
Though it really didn’t help matters that she wore a skimpy, curve-hugging black lace nightie that did everything to evoke a man’s desire. Made him hard in an instant.
She didn’t say anything, just kept her arms wrapped around him and her body pressed to his. Her face burrowed in the crook of his neck and Vin felt the distinct wetness of tears on his skin.
Aw, hell.
His throat tightened. His gut clenched. What happened to his heart was just too painful to accept. Because it meant he still cared about this woman. To the depths of his soul.
It wasn’t just lust. It was everything. Every little thing about Jewel Catalano. Some shit he couldn’t even begin to grasp or explain, but mostly … her very essence consumed him. Made him restless. Made him hot. Made him want to say whatever the hell he had to say in order to not be the source of her tears. To not be the bad guy to Rogen’s knight in shining armor.
He spared a glance at Rogen, who dragged a hand down his face, apparently experiencing some peculiar emotions himself. Then Rogen grabbed a mitt and crossed to the double oven along the back wall and pulled out a baking sheet with bread. He set the loaf on the counter and retrieved a stockpot from one of the large racks over the island.
Rogen shook his head, obviously lost in his own consternation. Eventually, he said to Vin, “I didn’t know the two of you were together when she came to see me at Trinity. That e-mail I sent you—”
“Fuck, Rogen. That was ten years ago.” And not anything Vin wanted to discuss with his best friend. Or anyone else, for that matter. Ever. “Let it pass.”
Vin unraveled himself from Jewel. Whisked away the trickles on her cheeks. Kissed her on the forehead. Then he said, “Tell me what’s happening now. With whatever business you two have drummed up.”
Because he honestly couldn’t rehash that day when Rogen had sent him the simplest, most innocent message—and it had turned Vin’s life upside down. Just when he’d righted it following his parents’ tragic and shocking deaths.
Jewel sniffled and went for a tissue. Rogen hacked off a chunk of bread and tore it into small pieces. Vin joined him and snagged one, dipping it into the spicily aromatic sauce. He sampled
it and told Jewel, “One of your best pots.”
She’d always been great with sauces.
“I know Bolognese is your favorite,” she said, pain still clouding her eyes. Continuing to hold Vin hostage.
Rogen told him, “We struck up our own deal related to the property.”
Vin bit back a groan. “No, you did not.”
“Yeah. We did.” Rogen let out a strained laugh. “It’s a bit on the risky side, but it’ll be worth it in the end.”
Jewel set the table in the bay window that created a good-size alcove. Rogen brought water to a boil on the stove and Vin washed his hands, then started collecting the dried pasta that would take only a minute or two to cook. For him, it was a bit unnerving how they were all so simpatico in the kitchen. Not tripping over one another or wondering what to do next. They just picked up whatever slack there was and the result was always some fantastically executed meal.
The kitchen staff at the estates had never been too thrilled when the trio would take over from time to time, but that was usually when a grandparent would swoop in and smooth the waters. And partake in the food.
Rogen said, “My father is going to renege on his verbal agreement.”
Vin glanced at Jewel. “Always get it in writing, sweetheart.”
“Yes, I know. Except…” She shook her head. “I didn’t have anything concrete until I hooked him with scotch that’s, like, a gazillion years old. It has sentimental value. And the entire transaction is contingent on me procuring that decanter, so … first things first.”
Vin tamped down the legal lecture. Instead, he said, “Without the senior Angelinis’ signatures, you’re back to square one.”
“We’ll get those signatures,” Rogen asserted. “I know my father’s plan and I’m going to prevent him from jerking her around. He’ll get his scotch and the money Jewel proposed. The signatures will follow. Including mine.”
Vin brought the wine and glasses over and took a seat at the table, opposite Rogen. Jewel set out bowls of the pasta and the sauce and served her guests.
“Not to harp,” Vin said, trying to keep all the errant feelings and tension from his voice—and not so sure he succeeded, “but I advised you against that, Rogen.”
“For good reason,” his friend conceded.
Temporarily derailed by Jewel’s sexy body—those curves and plumped-up breasts, not to mention an ass that never failed to tempt him—Vin suggested to her, “Perhaps you should put some clothes on. Let us drool over the Bolognese, not you.”
“I’m sure you both can handle it.” There was a hint of mischief in her tone, overriding whatever had made her cry on his shoulder. She brought over the bread, then sat between the two men.
They toasted and sipped before digging into their plates.
Rogen took a few bites before saying, “I came to Jewel to find out why she wants the property. For an inn.” He shared a smile with her, and Vin had to look away. Rogen added, “I want a vineyard. They go perfectly together. So why shouldn’t we go into business together? In one form or another.”
“Meaning?” Vin asked with a crooked brow, not certain he liked the direction in which this conversation was headed. For numerous reasons.
“Meaning,” Jewel chimed in, “we could either subdivide and Rogen could buy half of the land from me for his own purposes. Or…” She pulled in a long breath and stole a glance at Rogen before returning her attention to Vin. “We could partner up. Fifty-fifty in procuring the land, developing it, and managing the inn and the winery.”
“Jesus Christ.” Vin dropped his fork on his plate and reached for his wine. He sucked down a healthy amount. “You’re shitting me.”
“No,” Rogen and Jewel said in unison.
Vin piled a second heap of pasta on his plate and ladled the sauce over it. Jewel topped it with freshly grated Parmesan from a stainless-steel grater.
“Seriously, the best Bolognese I’ve ever had,” Vin commended her. “But, honestly? You two are fucking out of your minds.”
Jewel returned the grater to the table and pushed her food aside. She stood and paced. Her crimson-painted toes distracted Vin for a moment.
“It’s not going to be easy,” she said. “We already know that. And like Bay and Scarlet have told me a dozen times before, the whole idea is a house of cards. One false move and Rogen and I could come up empty-handed. But—” She halted abruptly and speared Vin with a solemn look. “No guts, no glory, right?”
She smiled. Though it was a bit shaky.
His stomach wrenched.
No, that might have been his heart.
Damn it.
Vin didn’t say anything for a while. Finished his pasta so that he didn’t immediately discount the business-plotting effort on Rogen and Jewel’s part. They were smart and worked for their respective family empires. Neither would hastily or recklessly come to terms with each other after all the Angelini–Catalano feuding. And all they’d been through personally.
Sure, Vin recognized that Rogen and Jewel’s history would play a part in their decision. The fact that they’d once been in love. Not to mention they obviously still held each other in high regard. The attraction and affection were clearly still there.
No doubt emotion influenced them, but again … Vin knew them well enough to know that neither would propose something this audacious if they didn’t fully believe they could pull it off.
Provided they procured the land.
Vin sat back and sipped some more, still contemplative.
Rogen said, “We could use your help, man. We need that property free of all the restrictions the current contracts have placed on it, and we need to make sure we have new contracts drawn up that are solid—so that Jewel and I don’t lose this opportunity because of a parental vendetta.”
“They’ll all go through the roof when they find out you want a joint venture,” Vin told him. “How many times did we hear your father say there will never be an Angelini and Catalano partnership again? He and Anthony even went to the extent of declaring you and Jewel will never marry, never have ‘mixed-blood’ heirs. Then you were sent off to Trinity, in hopes you’d get over each other.”
Vin shoved back his chair, took his plate to the sink, and rinsed it off.
Rogen said, “We were fourteen when I left for Trinity. Now we’re twenty-eight. He’s not shipping me anywhere. And if Jewel and I want to go into business together, then goddamn it, that’s what we’re going to do.”
“While I admire your spirit and tenacity,” Vin told them both, “I wouldn’t get my hopes up if I were you. And you’ll need to find an independent attorney, because this would be a conflict of interest for me.”
“Vin—” Jewel began.
He held up a hand. “I work for Angelini, Inc. For Gian Angelini, ultimately. And not only does he sign my paycheck, but he took me in after my parents’ plane crashed. I owe him a lot, Jewel.”
“And you’ve achieved a lot for him,” Rogen reminded Vin. “You’ve worked your ass off for him. For the family. I understand what you’re saying, because I face the same dilemma. But let’s not forget that, one, he’s willing to double-cross Jewel. Two, that land is a part of both our inheritances, so it will eventually pass to us. But it’ll continue to sit there for the next four decades. I’m not really interested in starting a vineyard when I’m seventy. Third, we—”
“Hey,” Vin said, cutting him off. “I’m aware of all the reasoning.”
“Maybe not,” Jewel interjected. “Because one thing that only Rogen and I might be considering is that proving we can be partners and build something together could be a great way to get our families to bury the hatchet.”
Vin’s gaze locked with hers. “And then you can marry Rogen.”
ELEVEN
Jewel stared at Vin, aghast.
“That just came out,” he said crossly, and turned away. He wrapped up the remainder of the bread as Jewel tried to wade through the dynamic in her kitchen. All the surface stu
ff they’d addressed—the new deal, the reasons it didn’t sit right with Vin to be involved—and the underlying issues. The room was sexually and emotionally charged. It was hard to ignore either, and it ratcheted her own internal tension.
Jewel said, “It’s not like you to blurt out something you haven’t fully given consideration to, Vin.” She tried to reel in her own emotions. “For the record, Rogen and I getting married is something that hasn’t been a topic of discussion since we were thirteen or fourteen. And what did we know at that age?”
Rogen shrugged. “Seemed to be a good plan at the time.”
“Sure,” she agreed. “And then a feud erupted and you wound up all the way across the country—then on another continent.”
“Be that as it may,” Vin interrupted, “you’re no longer subjected to the will of patriarchs when it comes to your love lives.”
“We’re not really subjected to anyone’s will when it comes to that,” Jewel tacked on to the sentiment. “Are we?” She gave both men a direct, knowing look.
Here they all were. Together. At pivotal crossroads.
Honestly, all the cards had been revealed, so what good did it serve them to avoid one extremely crucial element to their love triangle?
The truly wicked one. The one that was …
Wrong?
No. Enticing.
So very wrong?
No. So … Delicious.
Jewel grabbed her glass and headed out of the kitchen and into the living room. Flames from the fire cast flickering shadows over the furniture and against the walls. She hadn’t put on music and the quiet air made her hear every little thing—like Rogen and Vin joining her. Their breaths a bit heavy, as was hers.
Okay, perhaps she’d had a bit too much of the Sangiovese. Because her blood had turned molten, and exhilaration hummed through her.
Or maybe she’d just fully accepted the fact that she wanted—needed—them both.
They were two incredibly sensual, incredibly talented men. Both experts in varying techniques, so that Jewel always felt as though sex was a whole new experience with each of them.