“Don’t worry about me,” she snapped. “I’m like Voldemort. You know him, right? The villain from Harry Potter? I can get along fine with chunks of my soul missing, just like he can.”
Daniel flinched.
She took advantage of his stunned silence and started to go.
“There are other cellos,” he called after her. “You could rent one—”
She turned back, a bitter laugh rising from her throat, and it didn’t matter that they were in the middle of a wedding reception. As if it was that easy. Rent one. Please. As if he hadn’t robbed her of a big piece of her happiness and her ability to feel joy when he left town without a backward glance. As if their ugly breakup and her resulting despair hadn’t essentially ruined her two years of touring with the symphony.
The symphony. Huh. Funny to remember it now. Being a cellist with a symphony had always been her dream career, but had it brought her one moment of happiness after Daniel got done with her?
No, it had not.
As if she could play music when her heart had forever lost its ability to sing.
“Some things cannot be recaptured, Daniel.” She took a breath. Tried not to sound so shrill. “Do you get that? Some things leave your life and they’re gone forever. You can’t hang on to something that’s gone.”
He stood. Before she knew what had happened, he did it again, leaning toward her and bringing all his intensity and inescapable body heat with him. Much as she didn’t want to look up into his face, there was no escaping his all-seeing eyes or the huskiness of his voice.
“And some things are so ingrained in us that they never change.” His gaze swept her up and down, lingering on the deep vee of her cleavage and her lips before flicking back to her face. “Some things refuse to change no matter how much we want them to. Which makes us fools for trying. Don’t you think?”
No. She didn’t think. Didn’t want to think.
In that heated moment, when the intensity of his presence made her inner muscles clench for him, she wanted him between her legs. Here. Now.
She wanted it with every cell inside her body. Hell, even the missing chunks of her soul wanted it.
“Daniel…”
“Just forget it.”
Eyes flashing, he wheeled around and walked off without another word.
Chapter 3
Houston, he had a problem.
A big-ass monster of a nasty problem, one that was poised to take him down and grind him into a bloodied and unrecognizable pulp if he wasn’t careful.
On the plus side? The problem came in the sexiest little package he’d ever seen.
Instead of joining his brothers and parents at the big table inside—yeah, he’d catch hell from his mother for being aloof tonight after such a long absence from Journey’s End, but there was plenty of time for guilt trips at the family breakfast she planned for tomorrow morning—Daniel went outside and found a spot along the railing. Round paper lanterns bobbed overhead. The river lapped gently against the shore, its black ripples reflecting the full moon’s light like spilled diamonds.
It was blessedly quiet after the sensory and emotional overload inside, and the night’s chill felt nice against his overheated cheeks. A few breaths helped clear his head somewhat, but it was still full of Zoya.
Otherwise known as The Problem.
Thirty seconds with her and he realized why he’d left Journey’s End and put as many miles as possible between them for years.
Head-butting with his father, otherwise known as the Emperor, had also nudged him in the back and kept him far away, sure. Daniel had snuck into town for quick visits here and there over the years, but mostly he’d weaseled out of all kinds of family events. Cajoled his folks into visiting him on his turf out west whenever they could.
Had he missed his family? Of course. Every please come home call from his mother had tugged on his heartstrings and made him reconsider. Even so, he’d stood firm and stayed gone because he knew that Journey’s End was far too small to allow peaceful coexistence between him and Zoya.
But what was a semi-dutiful son to do when his father had a near-fatal heart attack and asked him to come home to run the family’s vineyard? Turn a blind eye and a cold shoulder? Even Daniel couldn’t do that, much as he’d been tempted. So he’d quit his high-paying job running someone else’s vineyard, packed his bags and come back here as soon as he could.
It wasn’t like he’d had much of a life back in Napa, anyway. All he’d said good-bye to were a ninety-hour-a-week career, a mostly empty house and a bewildered girlfriend of nearly a year who’d probably hoped he’d been thinking of putting a ring on it, or at least that he’d outline a plan for a long-distance relationship.
Now here he was, back in Journey’s End for a grand total of two hours and some change, and he was as fucked as he’d been the day he left. Maybe more. At least then he’d been young and optimistic. Hotheaded, but hopeful enough to think that, in a world full of women, it wouldn’t be that hard to find a couple to help him stop seeing Zoya around every corner, or catching whiffs of her perfume in every crowd.
Now he knew better.
As far as his heart and his dick were concerned?
Fourteen years later, it remained, and always had been, Zoya.
Zoya’s hair. Zoya’s petite figure. Her delicious ass, hips and legs. Her laughing eyes and stinging tongue. The way she wrapped him up in knots and then twisted those knots between her soft little hands until he couldn’t think or breathe worth a damn.
It had always been her.
Had there been Zoya-free periods? Of course. He might be pathetic, but he fought the darkness as best he could. Sometimes he’d make it one, two...hell, even six months before he caught the subtle fragrance of jasmine on the breeze and, before he knew it, rode a wave of sweet memories and longing that inevitably ended with him holding his bloodied heart in his hands.
That was the thing that made his current churning gut and blue balls so galling. It hadn’t been easy to avoid years of Christmas and Thanksgiving with his family, but he’d done it. Why? Because he’d known, on a cellular level, that he couldn’t manage seeing her. He’d also known he should decline the Emperor’s invitation to run the vineyard and winery, but he’d told his instincts to shut the hell up.
And look at him now, boy.
Seriously fucked, which was what always happened when you ignored your gut.
He leaned into the railing, gripping the wood hard enough to get splinters. Hell, maybe he should just vault the damn railing and drown himself in the river. Couldn’t be more painful than discovering he still desperately wanted a woman who’d never really loved him.
“What’s up, man?”
But seriously, who’d have thought that she’d...she’d…intensify like that? Her brown eyes? More intriguing and knowing. And the way she wore her hair now, short and wispy in a Halle Berry style, put her eyes on center stage. Her caramel skin? Glowing and unlined. Her body? Lush and toned, with ne’er an ounce of fat on it and a waist that, he knew from intimate experience, fit nicely between his hands.
“Harper. Wake up, man.”
What about the way her little black maid of honor dress clung to that ass and dipped low in front and dangerously lower in the back?
For God’s sake.
Daniel’s skin tightened, threatening to split open like an over-grilled sausage on Labor Day. He wanted that woman. God, he wanted. Still wanted. Always wanted.
Was he supposed to have a fighting chance here? Was this fair?
Wasn’t fourteen years long enough to obsess over her?
He could have done time for armed robbery and been free by now.
Adding insult to injury was the way his curiosity about her current life had him in a stranglehold. Was she with someone? She hadn’t answered that question, had she? Plus, look at how great she was with those twins. As though she’d been born to be a mom. Was motherhood on her mind now? Probably. None of them were getting any younger, were
they? Oh, and what about the way she’d given up music and started running her father’s business? How was that going?
How could Zoya still be Zoya without her music?
And how would he ever find out?
Daniel eased his death grip on the railing, seething.
Why had she refused to even sit down for a drink with him? Where was the civility in that? How was he supposed to satisfy his curiosity about her if she wouldn’t stick around for two seconds? And why did he feel like he had the divine right to know everything about her? How was he going to—
A hand appeared one inch in front of his face and snapped its fingers.
Startled, Daniel looked around and realized Sean was there. Had evidently been there for some time, watching him with an amused gleam in his eye.
“Figured you could use this,” Sean said, passing him a tumbler of Scotch.
Good old Sean. As a man with four brothers, Daniel hadn’t been in the market for another one when he and Sean met at a local cycling club in Napa, but life was funny, wasn’t it? He and Sean had clicked over their love of biking and travel and remained tight. Over the years, they’d taken group adventure vacations in Europe, South America and China. Hell, they’d even been to Nepal.
Sean’s career? Sous chef at a swanky Napa restaurant. When the owners had abruptly closed the doors and retired to Phoenix just as Daniel was wrapping up his California life to come back here, he’d suggested Sean tag along.
Sean, a native Cincinnatian whose own family issues had driven him far from home, had been happy to oblige.
Now here they both were.
Although, to be fair, Sean wasn’t fucked the way Daniel was. Lucky bastard.
“Thanks, man,” Daniel said, raising his glass in a toast before he drank it all in a single scorching gulp. “You read my mind.”
“It wasn’t hard.”
Daniel gave him a sharp glance. “Meaning?”
Incredulous look from Sean. “What’s gotten into you, man? You need to get your shit together. You want to go down in flames your first night back?”
“Fuck you,” Daniel said, putting his empty glass on the rail and sadly wishing he had a refill.
“Was her shit that good, man?”
Daniel glared him in the face, wishing it wouldn’t be quite so illegal to punch out all his best friend’s front teeth. “Yeah,” he said around his tight jaw. “It was exactly that good.”
Low whistle from Sean, who seemed to have gotten the whole grim picture. “You trying to get her back?”
This outrageous suggestion damn near made Daniel’s head explode off his shoulders. “I don’t want her back. I want her out of my system.”
“Been there, done that,” Sean muttered, resting his elbows on the rail and staring out at the water.
There it was again, Daniel thought, mirroring Sean’s posture as he tried to remember how many times Sean had made an oblique reference to the woman in Cincinnati who’d broken his heart years ago by taking up with his brother. Since Daniel was quite sure he’d head for the nearest clock tower with a rifle if Zoya ever hooked up with, say, his crazy brother Isaiah, he understood Sean’s pain. On the other hand . . .
“Don’t start with that self-pity crap, man. This isn’t about you,” Daniel reminded him. “No one wants to hear that. And since you obviously haven’t figured out the secret to getting a woman out of your system, how about you do us both a favor and shut the hell up?”
“Ease back, Anger Boy.”
Daniel fumed, wishing he’d never confessed to Sean, during a drunken and particularly stupid moment a while back, that his family’s nickname for him was Anger Boy. Much as he wanted to get a handle on his temper, it was so much easier to flare up like a firework.
“You want a piece of me right now? You want to go there?”
“Predictable, much?” Sean asked mildly, sipping his drink.
“’Cause I’m happy to go there. I don’t care if this is a wedding—”
“Somebody grab her!” shouted a frantic male voice several feet away.
Caught off guard, Daniel was still looking wildly around and trying to figure out what the hell the voice was talking about when Sean bent down, scooped something up and returned to standing with a little girl in his arms. It was Daniel’s niece, Ella.
“Whoa!” Sean cried, laughing. “Where do you think you’re going?”
“I’m Ella!” the toddler said happily. She wore a pink cloud of a dress with the frilly socks, shiny black shoes and bows in her Afro-puffed hair that made every little girl feel like a princess. “Ella! Ella! Ella!”
“I’m Sean. High five.” Sean held a hand up and she smacked it with her tiny palm before burying her face against Sean’s neck and collapsing into giggles. “Friendly thing, aren’t you?”
“Ella!” Daniel’s brother Edward raced up, looking frazzled. “You can’t run off like that. You know better.”
“No, Daddy,” Ella said from Sean’s shoulder.
“Don’t you no me,” Edward said darkly, exchanging a what can you do? look with Daniel. “Wait’ll you have a kid, man. Nothing takes years off your life like a kid jerking out of your grip and running off. Especially when there’s a giant river on the other side of the railing.”
Daniel looked out at the dark river. Then he looked at adorable Ella, whom he’d seen and held earlier and who was now gently smacking Sean’s face between her palms, and felt an odd pang of something he didn’t want to explore too closely.
It felt overwhelming. Primal. Undeniable.
He wanted his own little Ella. Had wanted one for quite some time.
More than that, she reminded him of another little girl he’d once loved…
Don’t go there, man, he warned himself. Now is not the time.
“Sean, this is Edward, my youngest brother,” Daniel said, trying to get his head back in the game. “This hooligan in training is his daughter Ella. As you know.”
“I’m Ella! Ella, Ella!”
“What’s up, man?” Sean switched Ella to his other hip so he could shake Edward’s hand. “This is a cutie you’ve got here.”
“Yeah? Well, thanks for saving her young life. You’re now responsible for half the quarter mil she’s going to cost me before she goes to college. Congratulations.”
“Eh. She’s worth it,” Sean said with a laugh. “Aren’t you, Ella?”
“I want cake, Daddy,” Ella said. “Cake, please.”
“You’ve already had cake,” Edward said.
“Cake, Daddy!”
“Sorry, little girl,” Edward said, then added, in a stage whisper to Daniel and Sean, “Run. While you still can.”
Daniel and Sean just had time to exchange quizzical looks before—
“Cake, Daddy, cake!”
“Come on, little girl.” With the sigh of an exhausted parent, Edward clapped his hands and opened his arms, trying to take Ella from Sean. “Let’s go before you really get started and clear the reception out.”
But Ella decided to try another desperate gambit. She tightened her grip on Sean and looked him deep in the face, all big teary eyes and trembling lower lip. “Cake, Sean? Please?”
Sean, who had innards of marshmallow fluff and cotton when it came to pretty females, no matter their age, wavered immediately. “Ah, Edward? Could Ella have some cake, please?”
“You see what I’m up against,” Edward muttered to Daniel. “The girl’s already had forty-two pieces of cake. And my life won’t be worth living when her mother finds out I let her have some P-U-N-C-H.”
“Please, Sean?” Another soulful look from Ella.
Sean, who looked like he was on the verge of breaking out in a cold sweat, eyeballed Edward. “I gotta tell you, man. I’m thinking about reporting you to child services for not giving this precious child what she wants.”
“You disgust me,” Edward said, lifting Ella out of Sean’s reluctant arms. “Have you no cojones?”
“Cojones!” Ella cried
. “Cojones!”
Edward’s face tightened and his eyes slowly rolled closed. “I’m a dead man.”
“Well, at least she’s off the C-A-K-E,” Daniel pointed out.
“Cojones! Cojones!”
Shaking his head, Edward headed for the door leading inside.
“Where’s Reeve?” Daniel called after him. “I wanted to meet her.”
“At the hospital. She’s on call tonight.”
“Tell her she’s got a great kid,” Sean said, looking a little bereft at the loss of Ella.
“Oh, Reeve’s not Ella’s mother. Amber is,” Edward said.
Daniel tried to never miss a golden opportunity to give his brothers shit. “Edward was voted the member of the family most likely to appear on an episode of Jerry Springer,” he told Sean.
Tight grin from Edward. “F-U-C-K. Y-O-U.”
“F-U-C-K!” cried Ella. “F-U-C-K!”
“You’re a regular genius,” Daniel told Edward, who looked absolutely stricken by this point. “Truly.”
“It’s a good thing you’re cute, little girl,” Edward told Ella.
“F-U-C-K!” Ella cried happily.
Beyond speech, Edward reached for the door.
“Bye, Sean,” Ella called in her tiny voice, waving over her father’s shoulder.
Sean’s entire face lit up as he waved back. “Bye, Ella. Hope I see you again.”
They disappeared inside, the door whooshing shut behind them.
“Wow. She’s a heartbreaker, isn’t she?” Sean said, staring after them.
Daniel, who felt that odd pang again, had no trouble answering. “You better believe it.”
With some apparent effort, Sean shook his head and refocused on the crisis at hand. “So what’s your plan for dealing with Zoya?”
“Plan?” All of Daniel’s adrenaline-buzzed ambivalence slammed back into him, especially when he caught a glimpse of Zoya laughing with Miranda inside. Renewed longing hit him like a mule kick to the gut. “Do I look like a person with a plan? Or do I look like a person who’s barely hanging on by the tips of his broken fingernails?”
“Well, you’d better come up with one,” Sean said gravely. “Because the way you’re going? You’re either going to marry that woman inside a year, or she’s going to make a fool out of you. There’s no middle ground. I’m getting a refill.”
Unforgettable Page 4
