Revenge at Bella Terra

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Revenge at Bella Terra Page 20

by Christina Dodd


  Police Chief Bryan DuPey was there in his rumpled uniform, looking more relaxed, but still weary and worn.

  Chloë had met his wife. Now she knew why.

  Wyatt Vincent wore a tan suit and a white shirt, and his midnight tie was loosened around his neck. He held a glass of wine and wore a genial expression, and when his blue eyes met Chloë’s, he lifted his glass in a toast. “Here’s the bride,” he announced.

  Finnegan Balfour turned sadly to face her. “I was hopin’ I’d be the one to charm you,” he said.

  “You do charm me,” she said flirtatiously, but when he moved closer, she slipped away to Eli’s side.

  For all that he was handsome, Finnegan was a little odd. His uniform was perfectly ironed and so precisely creased, he didn’t seem like a real cop; he seemed like an actor playing a cop on an old TV sitcom, and he watched her closely, as if he knew her better than she knew herself.

  Eli put his arm around her, drew her close, and turned her to face a large, middle-aged, Hispanic officer. “I don’t think you’ve met Terry Gonzales.”

  The officer had hands the size of trash-can lids; her hand disappeared in his, but he shook it gently and in a deadpan voice said, “If this boy ever gives you trouble, you let me know.”

  She thanked him; then as they turned away, she whispered to Eli, “All Terry needed to do was call me ‘little lady’ and I would have thought I was back in Texas.”

  Eli grinned. “I’ve known Terry for years. He’s a good guy. Come and meet our lone female in uniform.”

  Robin Webster was about Chloë’s age. She was pretty. She filled out her uniform well. And in her eyes Chloë saw a cynicism so raw it hurt to see. Something had happened to Robin that sent her into law enforcement, and it hadn’t been good.

  “With all of you here, I have to wonder what’s up?” Chloë asked her. “Did the criminals take the night off?”

  “Wyatt threw a party to thank the Bella Terra Police Department for our patronage. We dined in the private room off the restaurant, and when we finished, we were waiting in the lobby for the wives and we heard your good news.” Robin was polite, if not enthusiastic. “Congratulations.”

  “Thank you. We’re very happy.” Chloë didn’t know why she felt the need to tell Robin they were happy; maybe it was that cynicism that spoke so loudly.

  “And please, let me assure you.” Robin smiled tightly. “There are officers on the beat, and I’m going back to the department as soon as I can leave here. I’ve had nothing to drink; you’re still safe from crime.”

  “I didn’t mean . . .” Clearly, Chloë had misspoken. “I’m sorry if I gave offense. It was a bad joke.”

  “No offense taken.” Robin gave way to Mason Watson. “Here’s the coroner to offer his congratulations.”

  “She’s a good cop,” Eli said in Chloë’s ear. “But known to be a little touchy.”

  The coroner clapped Eli on the shoulder hard; he’d had a little too much to drink, and he spoke a little too loudly. “I never thought you’d convince any girl to take you off the market. And you got that rare treasure, an intelligent woman. Good job, Eli!”

  Nearby, Nonna sighed loudly.

  “Mason, your social skills suck,” Eli said.

  “What?” The gleam in Mason’s eyes dimmed. “What did I say?”

  “Nothing anyone’s concerned about,” Chloë said soothingly.

  DuPey nudged Mason out of the way and shook Eli’s hand, then shook Chloë’s, then shook Eli’s again. “I certainly want to make sure I offer my congratulations, too. I’ve been hoping for this for years.”

  Chloë construed that to mean that his wife had been holding Eli up as the man she should have married.

  Mason shoved back at DuPey and, putting both his hands on Chloë’s shoulders, he leaned into her. “Just be careful. In my business, they always say corpses come in threes. So far this spring, I’ve had two on my slab. Make sure you’re not the third one.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Chloë promised, and stepped away from his high-octane whiskey breath.

  Eli signaled his brothers.

  But Mason babbled on. “I’m just saying that because the Di Luca brides seem to have a way of getting in trouble. First Nonna, then Brooke . . . They lived through it. But the third time’s a charm!”

  “Come on, Mason.” Noah took him by one arm. “Let’s arrange for a hotel room for you.”

  “Good idea.” Rafe took his other arm. “Come on. We’ll hand you over to Victor and he’ll put you to bed.”

  As they led Mason away, he told them earnestly, “I don’t care what they say around town. You guys are really nice.”

  They got him into the lobby, where Victor took charge.

  As they returned to the Luna Grande, Eli nodded his thanks.

  Karina walked in, the other wives hot on her tail. “I see you all have heard Eli and Zoe’s really good news,” Karina announced. “Bryan, have you seen Zoe’s ring?”

  “Chloë,” Brooke corrected.

  Karina blinked at her as if confused. “Right. Chloë. Such a big stone. And pink!”

  “Pink?” Terry frowned in confusion. “Do they even make pink diamonds?”

  “I can’t imagine Eli Di Luca is going to give his bride a fake.” DuPey was positively jovial.

  “It’s a pink sapphire,” Karina corrected. “That’s just as good as a diamond. Really!”

  DuPey caught his wife around the waist and squeezed.

  She turned to him in surprise, but something about the way he looked at her made her shut her mouth.

  He spoke to the group. “I want to thank Wyatt for inviting us to such a great gathering. It’s been a pleasure working with him, and I know we’ve all learned a lot.”

  Wyatt nodded and put down his glass. “It has been a pleasure working with the Bella Terra Police Department.”

  “We need to leave these good people to finish their dessert and coffee, and go to work now”—DuPey nodded at Robin, then at the others—“or prepare for work when the shifts are up.” He lifted a hand to Eli and pushed Karina ahead of him and out the door.

  The rest of the force followed, waving and calling their good-byes.

  The silence that followed was profound.

  Finally Noah asked, “Does she still have the hots for you, Eli?”

  “Impossible,” Rafe said.

  The two brothers guffawed.

  “Yes, except . . .” Francesca frowned. “Women like that—they’re dangerous in their way. Chloë should be cautious around her.”

  Francesca projected a knowledge of human nature that Chloë respected. She asked, “For how long?”

  “Forever,” Francesca said.

  Chapter 36

  The evening had been cheerful and loud, full of good food and fine wines, and many toasts to the newly married couple. Eli was pleased to see Chloë join easily with his family, and after her first moment of surprise, she seemed touched that he had thought of and arranged for the party.

  The ring had been a resounding success, with Rafe smacking him on the back of the head for his extravagance and grumbling that Brooke would want one next, and Brooke smacking him on the back of the head and telling him that if she wanted one, she would buy it herself.

  But while on the surface all seemed cheerful, Eli was aware of unhappy rumblings among the Di Lucas. His brothers and his grandmother were suspicious, and not in a good way. Which led him to wonder when he had become the kind of man who would generate those kinds of suspicions.

  When the dessert plates had been removed and the port consumed, Nonna started to rise, then sank back in her chair with a laugh. “I think a little fresh air is in order. I broke my own rule. Eli, I toasted your marriage a little too often with your wonderful wine.”

  Ever the nurse, Olivia came to her feet. “I’ll get you some water.”

  “Dear, don’t bother yourself,” Nonna said.

  “Dehydration is the leading cause of falls in the elderly,” Olivia repl
ied.

  “Then I’m all right, because I’m not elderly.” Nonna sounded a little firmer than usual, even annoyed.

  Olivia sank back into her chair, pink cheeked.

  “Eli, would you walk with me?” Nonna asked.

  “Of course.” Eli stood at once and went to her side.

  “Shall I come along, too? Sadly, I would probably benefit from some fresh air, too.” Chloë was rosy cheeked and smiling.

  But Noah came to his feet. “You stay and enjoy yourself with the girls. I’ll come along. I’m the only one who’s gone up against Bianchin and won, so I’ll be able to protect Eli if someone attacks.”

  That brought a jeer from Rafe and Bao, but as Nonna, Noah, and Eli went out the door, the party settled back into its former exuberance.

  Nonna walked toward the back of the hotel, where lighted paths led to the private cottages and the guests were few. As soon as they were alone, she stopped, looked around, then faced Eli. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  He didn’t ever remember her using that tone of voice with him. “What do you mean?”

  “Why did you marry that girl?” she asked.

  A chill went up his spine. “Because she and I . . . got involved.”

  “No. No. You have friends, but hold them at arm’s length. You have family, but never tell us what you’re thinking. You invited this girl to your house. You never invite anyone, not even me.”

  Eli realized he might have hurt her feelings.

  Her eyes sparkled with ire. “In less than three weeks, you’re married? Are you trying to tell me you fell in love in three weeks?”

  Eli had never believed his grandmother would see beyond her joy at having another grandson married, much less that she would be angry. He didn’t know what to say. “We have a lot in common.”

  Noah moved to stand at Nonna’s right shoulder. “What is wrong, Eli? I heard rumors—”

  “What kind of rumors?” Eli asked.

  “Rumors that the winery is in trouble,” Noah said.

  Eli couldn’t believe this—and he sure as hell wasn’t going to take it from his youngest brother. “I got married. People do it all the time.”

  “Not you,” Noah said. “I like Chloë, and she doesn’t deserve being used for whatever damned reason you’re using her. Look, I’m a businessman. I run the Bella Terra resort, and I run it well. Once I heard the rumor about the winery, I started thinking, and let’s face it, your accountant left town a little abruptly.”

  “This is none of your business,” Eli said stiffly. “I’ve treated Chloë with honor, as every woman deserves, and I’ll be a good husband to her.”

  Two guests walked toward them.

  Noah cleared his throat.

  Eli and Nonna moved aside, smiled stiffly, nodded.

  The guests stared curiously as they passed.

  When they were out of earshot, Nonna returned to the attack. “Don’t try that innocent act with me, Eli. I’m your grandmother. I raised you. I know how to tell when you’re lying, and you’re lying right now.” Her eyes were snapping. “Is Noah right? Did you marry her for money?”

  Eli couldn’t keep eye contact.

  When he looked away, Noah said, “My God, Eli!” He ran his fingers through his hair, paced away, paced back. “I’m your brother. You think I wouldn’t have helped you out? Is it really money? Because, bestselling author or not, I can’t believe Chloë has enough to rescue Di Luca Wines if that’s what needs to be done.”

  “Her father’s wealthy,” Eli said. “He offered me a deal.”

  “You married . . . You married . . .” Noah was stammering.

  Noah never stammered.

  “Didn’t I teach you better than that, Eliseo? Did you really marry this girl for her father’s fortune?” Nonna sounded brokenhearted.

  “I’ll be a good husband to her,” Eli repeated.

  “As if that cures anything.” Nonna touched her forehead as if to stop the ache within.

  “Chloë thinks you love her,” Noah said.

  “How do you know that?” Eli recognized that he was getting defensive, but how could he help it? They were attacking him . . . and saying things he knew to be true. Things he had hoped to hide.

  “Just look at her!” Nonna gestured back toward the hotel. “She sparkles for you. When she finds out, what do you think is going to happen? Do you think she will forgive such a bitter betrayal?”

  “She won’t find out.”

  “You’re a fool, Eli Di Luca,” Nonna said.

  Noah shook his head in disbelief. “It’s bound to come out sooner or later.”

  Even as the guilt rose in him, Eli tried to explain again. “I respect her. I like her. Marriages have been built on less.”

  “Not our marriages. We are Di Lucas,” Noah said.

  “I gave up my family to marry your grandfather. My mother cried the day of the wedding. After that, I saw her only when my grandfather was out of town. But Nonno and I—we loved, and it was worth the pain and loss, although to this day . . . I miss my mother.” Nonna put her hand on Eli’s arm. “What’s going to fill in the gaps in Chloë’s life when she discovers you love your wines more than you love her?”

  Eli wanted to jerk away, to free himself from these reproaches and go back to his belief that he could make things right for Chloë. “I have a responsibility to the family to be the best vintner there is and make a success of the winery.”

  “I never taught you to believe such a thing,” Nonna said. “Never.”

  “No.” He thought of Abuela, old, stern, smoking her little cigars. “It wasn’t you.”

  “Look, Eli, I know you had a tough time in Chile. You stalk around here like some wounded prima donna, but you aren’t the only Di Luca who ever suffered.” Noah knew what he was talking about. “Stop with the anguish, already, and suck it up.”

  “I don’t act like a wounded prima . . .” Eli stopped and thought. “That’s not even the right gender.”

  “You suffer in a silence so loud it’s deafening. Grow up,” Noah said in palpable disgust. “Just grow up.”

  The two of them squared off.

  “Boys,” Nonna said softly and firmly. “That’s enough.”

  She didn’t use that tone very often, and both of them backed away.

  “Eli, I want you to know how disappointed I am in you.” Nonna shook her finger at him. “Marriage is a blessed sacrament and you used it for personal gain. I hope and pray somehow this union survives such a betrayal. But Noah’s right. I remember when you came home from Chile, so distrustful, so silent, so turned in on yourself. I thought it was a bad idea to insist that you talk about your experiences. I thought living with your brothers and Nonno and me would show you the way to open yourself up. I think now I was wrong, and I’m sorry for you.” She whisked a tear off her cheek. “But mostly I’m sorry for Chloë. If you’re going to make this a real marriage, you’re going to have to put Chloë first, and that means delving inside yourself for the emotions you hold so tightly in check. It means growing into the man you should have been before the cold and the loneliness stripped you of your humanity.” Putting her arm around him, she hugged him tight. “I love you, dear, but if—when—Chloë finds out, she’s going to say this is unforgivable. She’ll be right. I hope you’re prepared for that. I hope you know the right thing to do then.”

  She let him go and started toward the hotel.

  Noah lingered for a second. “You’re my older brother and I’ve always respected you. I wish you hadn’t smashed that to bits. I’d rather think the world of you . . . than not.” He caught up with Nonna and escorted her back inside.

  Eli looked up at the stars and wondered if they were right and if Chloë would somehow discover the truth. Because he had been alone before and survived, but now, somehow, life without Chloë would be unbearable.

  Chapter 37

  “That was a wonderful party, Eli.” In the bedroom, Chloë spun with her arms up in the air, her sk
irt lifting as she whirled. Collapsing on the bed, she smiled at the ceiling. “And this is a wonderful ring.” She lifted her hand and stared at it. “I love it sooo much.”

  His wife was a little tipsy. Taking her ankle, he held it and slipped off her shoe. “I’m glad you liked the party and the ring.”

  “I can tell I’m going to like being married to you. Do you know why?”

  “I’m not sure.” He repeated the shoe removal process on her other foot and tossed the heels toward the closet.

  “Good parties, great jewelry, and”—she popped up like a jack-in-the-box—“you!”

  He put one knee on the bed beside her, pushed her back onto the mattress, looked into her eyes, and said, “Remember that. No matter what happens, remember that.” Leaning his head to hers, he kissed her with all his skill and all his restraint, and then made slow, controlled, exquisite love to her until dawn tinted the sky.

  Chloë sat at Eli’s desk. She stared at the marble figurine of Bacchus, the god of wine, at his smiling, foolish face, and she breathed deeply.

  She’d told herself the same thing for the past three days.

  Eli’s family knew about the wedding. They had known for three days. It was only a matter of time before her father found out, and then her mother would find out. If Chloë didn’t tell her first, she’d be hurt....

  She had to tell her mother.

  She had to tell her now.

  She didn’t want to.

  As Chloë had explained to Eli, she loved her mother, but her mother’s choice to be cynical and distrusting made Chloë dread her reaction to their hurried wedding. Frankly, her mother was going to spit hissy all over Texas.

  But once this task was done, Chloë could call Papa and tell him, and as angry as her mother would be, Papa would be precisely that amount of thrilled.

  No matter what, though, she wasn’t giving Eli up. He was her husband. She was keeping him until death did them part. She thought about the way he held her last night and every night. Although she wished he would stop being so careful with her. He acted as if she were made of crystal, easily shattered, and although she thrilled when he caressed her, when he created a world where only the two of them existed, twisting in the slow rise of passion, she missed that raw, untamed virility he’d let loose that first night. When she thought of him, of the courtship he’d so carefully constructed for her—it was those moments on the floor, trapped between the sofa and the coffee table, that made her toes curl.

 

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