The Seductive One

They’d made love in this room. They’d shared bodies and hearts, and until this moment he hadn’t known how much that meant to him. Now there were only ghosts and echoes of what could have been. He’d fallen in love and he’d been too blind to see his feelings for what they were. He’d put away the past, but had lost the future.



Even without Marcelli Wines, Wild Sea would go on. The company would grow and prosper. The Giovanni family would never want for anything. As he had wanted, Nic had created a legacy that would continue indefinitely.



He sank into the chair and rested his head in his hands. Oh, yeah, he should be damn proud. He’d created a legacy for one. There were no children to carry on the family name, no wife to come home to. He lived with a dog. At the end of the day he stood alone.



For years he’d told himself that was what he wanted. That he needed no one. But he’d been lying. He ached for Brenna. Her voice, her laughter, her touch, her grit and determination, her fearlessness, her love, gave his life purpose. He’d never loved anyone else because he’d never stopped loving her. They were a part of each other. She’d seen that, but he’d been blinded by pride and ambition. Now they were all he had to keep himself warm at night.



The fault, the blame, the responsibility was all his. There was no delegating this disaster.



For the first time Nic wondered if Salvatore had ever regretted his act of revenge. He’d exacted a price for his best friend’s betrayal. Had he ever considered the cost too high? Had Salvatore lost more than he had gained?



For nearly a hundred years the Marcellis and Giovannis had been linked. First by friendship and dreams, and later by hatred and destruction. What was that old saying? Those who do not learn from the past are destined to repeat it. Well, Nic had finally learned, even if his great-grandfather had not. Success through destruction or revenge was an empty victory, and the price was paid by generations. He couldn’t change what Salvatore had done, nor could he undo his own reckless behavior. But he could make amends. They might not win back Brenna, but they would end the feud. Maybe that was the best he could hope for.



• • •



Twelve-year-old Kelly, Francesca’s soon-to-be stepdaughter, bounced in her seat. “So you, like, own the whole winery?” she asked. “You’re rich?”



Mia wrinkled her nose as she threaded a bead onto the needle. “We all own it equally, but Brenna gets to run things.” She turned to Katie. “Can we fire her if her head gets too big?”



“Don’t sweat it,” Brenna told her. “I have an anti-big-head clause in my contract.”



Mia shook her head. “I’m not sure that’s going to be enough.”



Brenna smiled because Mia was trying to be funny, and if she could convince her sisters that everything was fine, maybe they’d stop hovering around her.



They were trying to be kind. She understood they were concerned about her and wanted to help. But there wasn’t anything for them to do just now. She alone could endure and recover. In time she wouldn’t hurt so much.



Francesca finished beading the piece of lace and set it on the coffee table in front of her. “Look at the bright side, Mia. If Brenna gets out of hand, we can always threaten to take over those ocean-front four acres where she’s growing her precious Pinot grapes. Imagine the views we’d have from our front windows.”



“Not in this lifetime,” Brenna growled.



Katie grinned. “Good idea. I’ll talk to Grandpa about it,” she said in a mock whisper.



Kelly glanced at Francesca’s watch. “It’s been fifteen minutes,” she said. “The cookies should be cool enough to frost. May I be excused?”



“Of course.” Francesca smiled at Kelly. “While beading lace can be pretty exciting, I know it doesn’t compare with icing cookies. Why don’t you bring us a plate of them when you’re finished.”



“Okay.”



Kelly stood and dropped her piece of lace onto the loveseat, then raced into the kitchen.



Francesca glanced toward the kitchen, then back at Brenna. She lowered her voice.



“How are you doing?”



“Fine.” Brenna forced a smile. “You don’t have to worry about me. I’m going to be okay. I have the winery and my family. I feel very loved and supported.” She glanced at her sisters and saw none of them looked convinced. She made an X over her heart. “I swear.”



“I should get in touch with Joe,” Mia grumbled. “He’d know what to do.”



Francesca shook her head. “Joe can’t help with the real problem.”



She exchanged a look with Katie that told Brenna the two of them had been talking about her.



Brenna sighed. “Okay. Out with it.”



Katie shrugged at Francesca. Brenna’s twin sighed.



“We know you’re still in love with him.”



Brenna didn’t consider that a news flash. “So?”



“So what happens now?”



“As far as I can tell, nothing happens. I keep moving forward. I work, I plan, I recover.”



“Do you want him back?”



Trust Francesca to cut to the heart of the matter. Did she want Nic back in her life? “Yes,” she said, then sighed. “How sick is that? The man betrayed me in the worst way possible, and I still want to be with him.”



“You’re not going to, though, are you?” Mia asked. “I mean he was so awful. Trying to buy the winery like that and using you. You’ve got to be mad at him.”



Brenna nodded. “Furious.”



Francesca looked at Mia. “It’s not that simple. Loving someone can be a complicated, multilayered situation. You hate the act, but still love the man.”



“I’ll get over it,” Brenna promised, then hoped she wasn’t lying.



“You don’t have to help with the dresses,” Katie said. “Not if it’s uncomfortable.”



“Hey, I’m still a member of this family,” Brenna reminded her. “I want to work on the dresses. I want you both to be wildly happy with the men you’re going to marry. I’m thrilled for you both, and I can’t wait to dance at your wedding. I just need a little time.”



None of her sisters looked convinced, but they dropped the subject. Mia talked about the classes she would be taking when school started the following week, and Katie told funny stories about an office party she’d catered. Brenna listened and nodded, laughing where she was supposed to and adding a comment now and then. She thought she did a pretty good imitation of someone getting by. Her goal was to never let them know how much she hurt inside. Forgetting Jeff had been a snap, which went to show how little she’d cared about her ex-husband. She knew loving Nic was a slick road to hell, but she couldn’t figure out how to make the feelings go away.



Give it time, she told herself. Time and wisdom and possibly an ocean of tears.



By early October the vines were ready for their winter rest. Brenna and her grandfather strolled through the rows of plants. A bright afternoon sun warmed the temperature into the low seventies, but as always, Brenna felt cold. She didn’t sleep much these days and food didn’t appeal to her. The previous night she’d actually not been in the mood for dinner. If she kept this up for long, she would be able to give Francesca a run for her money as the skinny sister.



“I tasted your Pinot yesterday,” her grandfather said. “Still too soon to tell, but I think maybe you were right about that land.”



Brenna pressed a hand to her chest. “Careful, Grandpa. Too many shocks like that and my heart will fail.”



He ignored her. “I think maybe we find another few acres right on the coast and plant some more. With the fog to keep the vines cool and salt air to add that touch of magic, we could create something very special.”



She turned and stared at him. “You want to buy land? Non-Marcelli acreage and put our name on the grapes?”



His gaze narrowed. “You never showed me the proper respect as a girl. As a woman, you’re no better at it.”



“Probably not, but that’s so beside the point. Wow. I don’t know what to think. Last week you let me make the final choice on the Chardonnay labels. So maybe next year I can use more of the premium Chardonnay for my white-wine blend?”



“You want it all,” he grumbled.



“What’s the point in wanting only half of it?”



The old man grinned proudly. “That’s my girl.”



Brenna chuckled. She and her grandfather still argued, but not as much as they once had. Now he listened to her opinions. In return, she was more open to the values of the old ways. While a part of her resented that he’d felt the need to test her, most of her understood his somewhat twisted reasoning. He was a traditional man. Leaving a woman in charge was a big step for him.



He pulled a book out of his jacket pocket and tapped the cover. “I’ve been reading this.”



Brenna recognized Sophia’s diary. Mia had brought it back with them when they’d gone to talk to their grandfather.



Seeing the old, battered cover made her think of Nic, but it took so little to bring him to mind.



“Mia already told you what Sophia wrote,” she said.



“I wanted to see the truth for myself.” He put the diary back in his pocket. “Who is to say which wrong is less hurtful? Antonio loved his best friend’s wife. A sin perhaps, but the greater sin was acting on that love. Sophia was not faithful to her husband. Salvatore insisted on her naming the man who betrayed him, then punished them both. Friends torn apart by a night of passion and a night of revenge. Families growing up to hate each other. The past circles around us, molding us. We seek to hold the past in our hands, but it cannot be caught. Perhaps it can only be set free.”



He glanced at her. “Maybe it is time to let old grudges go.”



Brenna stared at him. “You can’t mean that.”



“Why not?”



Because her grandfather and the feud had been woven into a single entity for as long as she could remember. Because hating the Giovanni family had helped define who she was as a person. Because if loving Nic hadn’t meant defying her family, she would have married him ten years ago.



It was too little too late, she thought sadly. She’d been given control of the winery, been told the feud should end, and now neither could ease the ache inside her heart.



She started to head back to the house, only to realize she didn’t recognize where they were. At some point in their walk, they’d left Marcelli land and walked onto Wild Sea property.



“The fence is gone,” she said. “All of it.”



She turned in a slow circle, searching for the thick posts and lengths of wire, but they had disappeared.



“Nicholas came to see me.”



Her grandfather spoke matter-of-factly. As if a visit by Nic was no big deal.



Brenna gaped at him. “He what?”



“Came to see me. We talked.” The old man shrugged. “About the past, and the future. How anger and revenge destroyed so much. He wanted to apologize for his great-grandfather. To make up for what went before.”



Nic had visited her grandfather? When? Why hadn’t anyone told her?



“He gave me this to give to you.”



Her grandfather held out a piece of paper. Brenna took it and tried to read it, but the words blurred together. Her chest ached and her stomach felt as if it were test-driving a new roller coaster.



“I don’t…” She gave back the paper.



Her grandfather smiled. “The land, Brenna. He’s deeded you all the land where Salvatore had grafted in the European vines. He couldn’t give you back what his grandfather had killed, so he’s giving you what he has. Not to me. Not to the Marcelli family. Just to you.”



She didn’t know what to think, she couldn’t think. It was too much. It didn’t make sense. Terror and hope and confusion swirled together in her mind. Then suddenly she saw a silhouette in the distance. She was too far away to see his features, but she knew him.