Unmasking Juliet

by Teri Wilson

  Leo had the distinct feeling he might be waking up to a horse head in his bed in the very near future.

  He had no choice. He had to talk to Marco about Juliet...

  Soon.

  Marco was a Mezzanotte by way of marriage, not blood. So the way Leo saw it, he was the only one of the lot who might be reasonable about the situation. Emphasis on might. After last night, Leo had pretty much given up hope that anyone on either side of this vendetta possessed an ounce of sense. At least where the Mezzanotte-Arabella dispute was concerned.

  Two households, both alike in their overwhelming lack of dignity.

  He shook his head and considered his brother-in-law. “Meet me for a beer tonight, and I’ll tell you everything.” Well, almost everything. He was a gentleman, after all. “In the meantime, cover for me.”

  Leo unfastened the top two buttons of his white coat and began making his way out of the Mezzanotte tent. He’d had about enough of being a Mezzanotte for the day.

  “Cover for you?” Marco repeated, incredulous. “What is this? Starsky and Hutch?”

  “You said I needed a break. I’m taking one.” Leo gave him a single, firm nod. “Right now.”

  Marco released a weary exhale. “When will you be back? And in the meantime, what am I supposed to tell Uncle Joe about where you’ve gone?”

  “A while. And as for Uncle Joe, I’m sure you’ll think of something.” He only knew he had to get out of there. A little space would do a world of good.

  And if he could somehow arrange for Juliet Arabella to share that space with him, all the better. They were two consenting adults. They could fool around. It didn’t mean they were a couple. It didn’t have to mean anything.

  Unless they wanted it to.

  “See you later for that beer.” He tossed a wave at an exasperated-looking Marco—clearly, Leo would be paying for every last drop of alcohol consumed tonight. He broke into a jog in order to catch up with Alegra.

  She was sipping her chocolat chaud when he edged up beside her. For once she had a pleasant expression on her face. Actually, it bordered on one of ecstasy.

  “I see you’re enjoying my fancy-pants hot chocolate,” he said with a grin.

  She gave a start. Chocolat chaud spilled over the edge of her cup and dribbled down her hand.

  Cue her customary scowl.

  For some reason, it made Leo smile this time. “Caught you, didn’t I?”

  She rolled her eyes. “What do you want, Sparkle?”

  “A moment with your cousin.” Or an hour or two, give or take.

  She snorted. “Good luck with that.”

  “I don’t need luck. I’ve got you.”

  She stopped in her tracks and jammed her free hand on her hip. “First of all, any Mezzanotte who has a thing for an Arabella needs luck. Loads of it. And second, why don’t you take the arrogance down a notch? It’s not attractive.”

  He crossed his arms. “Neither is snorting.”

  “Insulting me isn’t going to get you any brownie points, you know.” She heaved out a sigh and ducked behind a large tent, out of view of the general public.

  Leo followed her.

  This wasn’t going nearly as well as he’d expected. He’d assumed he could reason with Alegra, which in retrospect seemed like a really stupid assumption. “Look, I know she doesn’t want me walking right up to her at a place like this. Perhaps you can help me arrange something. I’d really appreciate it.”

  She didn’t say anything at first, but merely swept her steely gaze up, down and back up again. Was it his imagination, or did her expression soften ever so slightly? “And why on earth would I help a Mezzanotte get cozy with an Arabella?”

  A question. Not a yes, not a no, but a question.

  Some of the tension in Leo’s head eased. Finally, he was getting somewhere. “Because this Mezzanotte wants to take a particular Arabella on a ride in a hot air balloon. Nothing evil, nothing sinister. Just a hot air balloon. And maybe some champagne.”

  “Oh.” A rare smile made its way to her lips. “That actually sounds nice.”

  Leo told himself it didn’t mean anything that as soon as he’d heard about his balloon ride prize, he’d imagined sharing it with Juliet. A quiet ride in the clouds, high above the complications and reality of their respective lives in Napa Valley, did sound nice. Better than nice, actually. It sounded like heaven.

  That didn’t mean he was a traitor. Or on the verge of proposing marriage. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. It was a ride in a hot air balloon. A perfectly harmless activity.

  A rather intimate one. And romantic. Definitely romantic.

  Maybe it does mean something, he told himself.

  Then he told himself to shut the hell up.

  “So, you’ll help me?”

  “Sure.” She nodded. “I’ll help you, Sparkle.”

  Relief—somewhat worrisome in its intensity—coursed through him. “Great.”

  Her smile broadened. “But it will cost you.”

  Of course it would. How could he have thought, even for a moment, that she would be anywhere close to cooperative? “Name your price.”

  She dropped her gaze to her cup of hot chocolate. “The secret ingredient. Tell me what it is, and I’ll help you arrange a meeting with Juliet.”

  No way in hell.

  His jaw tensed. “Not going to happen.”

  He turned to walk away, not that he actually intended to give up so easily. But as much as he liked the idea of some quiet time with Juliet, he wasn’t forking over his chocolat chaud recipe, and Juliet’s cousin needed to get that through her thick Arabella head.

  “Okay, fine. Come back. There might be something else I’d consider.” She looked around to make sure they were still alone and not being watched.

  He raised his brows and waited.

  “An iPad,” she said, sweeter than orange blossom honey.

  An iPad? Those things didn’t come cheap.

  But before she could change her mind, he heard himself agreeing. “Done.”

  He was down a round of beers for Marco and an iPad for Alegra Arabella. All because he wanted to spend an hour floating above Napa Valley with Juliet. Maybe it really was time to get his head examined.

  She nodded, clearly pleased with herself. “Okay, then. I can arrange a clandestine rendezvous.”

  Clandestine rendezvous. He was beginning to feel as if he was in a Jason Bourne movie. A smile tugged at his lips. “You really go for the spy lingo, don’t you?”

  “I call it as I see it.” She shrugged, and her giant hoop earrings grazed her shoulders. “Like I said, I can arrange a meeting, but I doubt she’ll get in the balloon. She doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.”

  That was humbling news. If there was any truth to it, which he suspected there was.

  At least some. They might have unfinished business in the intimacy department that he suspected kept her awake at night the way it did him, but he wasn’t the most convenient man she could have chosen. And then there was the unfortunate poisoning of her dog. “Is that so?”

  “No more Leo Mezzanotte. Her words, not mine. It’s kind of her new mantra.” Her eyes were wholly unapologetic. iPad or no iPad, Alegra wasn’t about to spare his feelings. Or his ego.

  It was a crime how little the latest in tablet technology could buy nowadays. “We’ll see about that. I can be a pretty persuasive guy when I set my mind to it.”

  “I can imagine.” She flushed, not unlike her cousin, then cleared her throat. “And one more thing. If you happen to get her up there, no strawberries. Champagne oftentimes comes with strawberries, but I don’t want her laying eyes on a single berry. Got it? I need you to promise that.”

  It was an odd request, but one that Leo could bear. “I
promise.”

  She seemed to consider things for a moment, then nodded. “Give me ten minutes.”

  Ten minutes. That seemed optimistic, but Leo wasn’t about to argue with her. “Will do. Meet me by the entrance to the festival.”

  She groaned. “Could you pick a more public area, genius?”

  He’d be willing to throw in an iTunes gift card if she’d abandon the sarcasm. Talking to her was exhausting on every possible level. “That’s where the balloon is. It’s the green-and-purple one with the Nuovo logo on the parachute.”

  “Fine.” She sauntered past him, in the direction of the Arabella booth. “See you in ten, Sparkle.”

  Leo sighed as he jerked loose the remainder of the buttons of his chef coat. Sooner or later, he and Alegra were going to have a chat about that nickname.

  But first, he had a date with Juliet Arabella.

  If he could convince her to go for a ride.

  * * *

  “I have something to tell you,” Alegra announced when she returned from the Mezzanottes’ tent, a half-empty cup of chocolat chaud in her hand.

  Juliet motioned toward the hot chocolate. “Please, let it be that you’ve already figured out what’s in there.”

  She didn’t see how it was possible, but a girl could dream, right?

  “What?” Alegra glanced at the cup in her hand, frowned, and looked back up. “Oh. No, I haven’t a clue. But you were right. It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She tilted her head back and swallowed what was left of the chocolat chaud.

  Juliet dropped her head in her hands. “Well, that was helpful.”

  Alegra gave her a playful hip bump. “Cheer up. I told you I have news.”

  “Spill. If this news is anything remotely cheerful, I’m all ears.” She straightened up and pasted on a smile. Ever since Cocoa had done her best to eat her body weight in chocolate, things had gone from bad to worse.

  Technically, the downward spiral had begun the night she’d made the fatal mistake of kissing Leo in the vineyard. She really didn’t want to believe that a simple kiss could have anything to do with all the bad luck that seemed to be coming her way. That was just crazy. The world didn’t work like that. But the more time she spent with Leo, the more things around her seemed to fall apart. It was as though they were defying the stars or something...and that was probably the single most absurd thought she’d ever had.

  She was losing it. The only thing she was absolutely clear about was that she’d never needed good news quite this badly before. “Well?”

  “I’ve arranged a secret meeting for you and Leo.” Alegra glanced at her bulky lime-green wristwatch. “We need to head over to the rendezvous spot in about eight minutes.”

  Juliet stared blankly. Surely she was hearing things. “I’m sorry. Is this some kind of joke? Because it’s not remotely funny.”

  Alegra shook her head. “It’s no joke. He wants to see you. Pretty badly, from what I can tell.”

  “And you agreed to help make that happen?” This made no sense at all. Not to mention that it was a flagrant violation of the No more Leo Mezzanotte policy. “I don’t understand. Just last night you tried to get Leo arrested. And weren’t you the one who said I was way too smart to get involved with a Mezzanotte?”

  “That’s when I thought you were thinking with your head and not your feminine bits,” she said dryly.

  Juliet opened her mouth to protest and promptly closed it. What could she say? Her feminine bits had been doing a lot of thinking lately. Far more than her brain. That was for sure.

  “There were more sparks flying between the two of you last night than I ever saw in the entire year you and George were together. The way I see it, you could probably use a good ravishing. And Leo certainly seems willing and able.” She glanced at her watch again. “You have six minutes to decide. Not to influence your decision or anything, but he seems to genuinely like you.”

  Juliet raised a dubious eyebrow. As appealing as being ravished by Leo-of-the-gorgeous-forearms sounded, something about this dramatic turnaround in Alegra’s attitude wasn’t making sense. “And how did you manage to glean that from a single cup of chocolat chaud?”

  Alegra shrugged. “The hot chocolate had nothing to do with it.”

  She was being evasive, which was definitely not normal for Alegra. Juliet glared at her. “What did, exactly?”

  “He might have promised to buy me an iPad if I could deliver you—” she checked her watch yet again, then looped her arm through Juliet’s “—right about now. Let’s go.”

  “An iPad? Are you kidding me?” Juliet snatched her arm free.

  So Leonardo Mezzanotte thought she could be bought with an iPad? Wasn’t that charming?

  “Relax. He can afford it. You should see how much business they’re doing over there. He’s making money hand over fist. An iPad is just a tiny drop in the Mezzanotte bucket. I should have held out for something bigger. Like a flat screen.” She gave Juliet’s arm another tug. “Are you coming or not?”

  “I can’t believe him.” Juliet shook her head. She tried to keep herself from thinking the obvious—Leo was a Mezzanotte. Of course he’d think he could steamroll over people just to get his way.

  But her thoughts went there, anyway.

  Isn’t that what his grandmother had done when she’d shared the Bellanotte chocolate recipe against her own grandmother’s wishes? And isn’t that what every other Mezzanotte had been doing since?

  “And I can’t believe you.” Juliet frowned at her cousin. “Since when do you sell me out like that?”

  “Chill out, would you? I’d have done it for free. Like I said, after witnessing the yawn-fest that was you and George, it’s kind of exciting to see you in such a state over someone. But Leo is a Mezzanotte, so I couldn’t very well pass up the opportunity to mess with him a little. I’m sure you understand.” Alegra batted her lashes innocently. “I’d like to take this opportunity to remind you that there’s an iPad on the line, though. And I could sure use one. Nearly as badly as you could use a roll in the sack with Leo.”

  A roll in the sack.

  To Juliet’s horror, those aforementioned feminine bits of hers gave a rebellious clench. Ugh.

  “Where is he?” she asked through gritted teeth.

  “Near the entrance to the winery. By the big Nuovo hot air balloon.” It was one of the few still tethered to the ground. The sky above them was dotted with balloons, their parachutes as colorful as a handful of jelly beans.

  Juliet untied her apron, yanked it over her head and tossed it next to the untouched chocolate strawberries.

  “So, you’re going?” Alegra asked hopefully.

  Good grief. Wasn’t she having enough trouble avoiding Leo without her own cousin trying to push them together? “Yes, I’m going. And I don’t require an escort.”

  “Great. Don’t worry about me. I can hold down the fort as long as you like.” Juliet could practically see visions of iPads dancing in her head.

  “Trust me. This won’t take long.” How long could it possibly take to tell him she had no intention of rendezvousing with him? This had to stop. He could rendezvous all he wanted with his shiny, new, gigantic trophy. They could go dancing and drink chocolat chaud together until the wee hours, for all Juliet cared.

  “You say that now....” Alegra gave her a knowing smile.

  “I’ll be back in less than five minutes. If not, I want you to come find me and drag me back to this booth. Kicking and screaming, if necessary.” She had to get a handle on this situation.

  “Yeah, I’ll get right on that,” Alegra said with a wry grin.

  Juliet let out a huff and stomped through the cool green grass toward the Nuovo balloon. With each step, she vowed she was putting an end to things once and for all. She had plenty to worry abo
ut right now, like explaining to her mother how she’d managed to make the rookie mistake of screwing up chocolate-covered strawberries, and figuring out how to get her chocolates back into restaurants without the help of Royal Gourmet. Not to mention the monumental task of identifying the secret ingredient in the chocolat chaud.

  Spending time sneaking around with a Mezzanotte was nowhere on her priority list.

  But when she arrived at the Nuovo balloon, the Mezzanotte waiting for her looked awfully list-worthy. He’d shed his chef coat and was dressed casually in faded jeans and a chambray button-down with the sleeves rolled up, exposing those delicious-looking arms. She had the sudden nonsensical urge to rest her cheek against that impressive chest of his and take a whiff. She’d be willing to bet he smelled like ripe grapes and damp Napa air.

  And chocolate. Obviously.

  “Juliet.” A smile creased his face, and her heart fluttered wildly in her chest.

  It couldn’t be normal, this intense physical reaction she experienced every time she was in his presence. In all the time she’d yearned to feel this way, she’d never imagined how frightening it would be. Feelings this powerful, this violent could only lead to violent ends.

  “Leo.” She squared her shoulders. “I heard you wanted to see me. Pretty badly, according to my cousin. Or should I refer to her as your minion now?”

  “Minion?” Blue eyes gazed coolly back at her. “That’s a bit extreme, don’t you think? Alegra and I have come to an understanding that makes it possible to tolerate one another. That’s a far cry from her becoming one of my flying monkeys.”

  “Do you have many of those? Flying monkeys?” She glanced at the balloons floating overhead, bobbing among the cottony clouds. Not a monkey in sight.

  “No. I’m really more of an independent villain. I prefer to do my own dirty work.” The spark in his gaze turned sultry.

  I’ll bet.

  She took a step backward. “You can’t do this. You just can’t. My affection isn’t for sale. Not to a Mezzanotte, not to anyone. I’m sure you wouldn’t understand, but it’s not a pleasant feeling to be controlled by someone with a fat checkbook.” Someone like George Alcott.