Seductive One

by Susan Mallery

  Brenna was not in the mood to face her grandfather again, but she didn’t have a choice. Mia dragged her into the house and found him in the library, sitting at his desk.

  “We have to talk,” Mia said. “You’re not going to believe what I found out.”

  “I must speak as well,” he said. His gaze settled on Brenna.

  She had the thought that he looked old. Concern threaded its way through her until she reminded herself that he was going to sell the winery and destroy her world.

  “Grandpa, this is important,” Mia protested.

  “So is this. It’s about the sale.”

  Mia’s mouth dropped open. “What sale?” She sucked in a breath. “No. You can’t. Brenna’s going to run the winery.”

  Brenna appreciated the support. Unfortunately it wouldn’t have any influence on her grandfather. She ached everywhere. As much as she wanted to crawl in bed and pull the covers over her head until this all went away, she refused to show weakness again. She braced herself for the next blow and vowed she would handle it just fine.

  “Have you already signed the papers?” she asked, pleased when her voice didn’t shake.

  “No. The men who approached me aren’t the ones interested in the winery. They are a front. Very respectable, very generous. A man could go a lifetime without hearing such a fine offer.”

  Brenna didn’t know if he was trying to make her feel worse, but if he was, he was succeeding. She swallowed the lump in her throat. “So?”

  “So I do not deal with faceless corporations. I made a few phone calls to the bank who would handle the loan. A friend talks to another friend. Eventually I have a name.”

  Maybe it was her imagination, but she would have sworn his hard expression softened a little. She didn’t think that was good news.

  Brenna clutched the back of the chair in front of her. She repeated to herself that she would handle it. Everything would be fine. There was no name her grandfather could say that would hurt her more than she’d already been hurt.

  No name except one.

  Her grandfather nodded. “You already know.”

  She shook her head. It couldn’t be possible.

  “Nicholas Giovanni.”

  18

  “No!” Mia cried, her voice thick with outrage. “Not Nic. He couldn’t. We were just…” She threw down the diary. “He just can’t be the one.”

  Brenna didn’t know what to think. Or maybe she simply couldn’t form coherent thoughts. She wouldn’t have guessed it was possible to be more stunned, more hurt, more disbelieving than she’d been before. Nic buying the winery? Nic going about it in secret, hiding?

  Betrayal was both bitter and cold, she realized as ice swept through her. Muscles trembled, then refused to support her weight. She leaned heavily against the chair she’d been holding, before she staggered around so she could drop onto the seat.

  Her vision blurred as she covered her face with her hands. No. He couldn’t. Over the past few weeks they’d spent so much time together. They’d talked and laughed and made love. They’d-

  She straightened with a gasp of horror. She’d apologized for her behavior. She’d said she loved him.

  “You have to be wrong,” she told her grandfather.

  “I’m not. He’s been planning this for a long time. It’s all in place. His offer, the financing, everything.”

  But…it couldn’t be.

  “I trusted him,” she whispered. With everything. Her heart and her dreams. Oh, no. The loan-in the form of a callable note. Her wine, her plans.

  “Oh, Grandpa, it’s even worse.” She forced out the words when all she wanted to do was run so far and fast that she could forget everything that had happened in the past few hours. “I’ve done something.”

  Mia looked at her, then her eyes widened in comprehension. “Brenna, you don’t think…”

  Brenna nodded slowly. “It had to be part of his plan.”

  “What was part of his plan?” her grandfather asked.

  “I was a fool,” she said. “I’m sorry. He made it so easy and I wanted it so much, I refused to consider that he was being anything but kind and generous.”

  She felt both helpless and stupid, and she had no one to blame but herself. “I went to Nic for a million-dollar loan and he gave it to me. It’s a callable note.”

  She braced herself for the explosion, but her grandfather only sighed heavily. “A lot of money,” he said calmly. “A smart move on Nic’s part. If I balk, he calls in the note. Even if I make good on the money, he can ruin your reputation. So he plays on my feelings for my granddaughter. He thought of everything.”

  Brenna doubted he’d planned on her falling for him again, but no doubt he’d simply considered that a lucky bonus. Being heartbroken was one thing, but a heartbroken idiot was unbearable.

  “I’m sorry,” she murmured.

  Mia stepped close and squeezed her shoulder. “I thought the past was twisted, but this is even worse.”

  Their grandfather turned his attention to her. “What do you know of the past?”

  “A lot more than I did a couple of days ago.” Mia leaned toward the desk and slapped the top of the book she’d dropped. “Sophia Giovanni’s diary. It starts before she married Salvatore and finishes up shortly after the death of her stillborn child. She writes about everything, including why Salvatore poisoned the Marcelli vines.”

  Her grandfather put his hand on top of Mia’s on the diary. The color drained from his face and his fingers trembled.

  “It is all here? The truth?”

  Mia nodded.

  “So many lives changed,” he said quietly. “So much bad blood. More wrongs on top of pain.”

  “You knew the truth?” Brenna asked. “You knew all this time and never said anything?”

  “I put it together over the years. A word here, a whisper there. I was a boy when it all happened.”

  Brenna thought of all the times she and her sisters had decided their grandfather was crazy for worrying about an old family tale. “If we’d known what really happened…”

  He shook his head. “What would it have changed? The young and the old have fought since the beginning of time. It is the way of things.”

  Maybe, Brenna thought. She felt cold and broken, as if she’d fallen from a great height. Her heart had shriveled into hard, brittle pieces. She wanted to cry, she wanted to scream. She wanted to hit something…or someone.

  Footsteps clicked in the hallway. “Where are you?” Grandma Tessa called as she approached. “Dinner’s ready. What? Mary-Margaret and I prepare the food and no one eats?”

  She walked into the library. “Lorenzo, you come and eat. Mia, Brenna.” She hesitated. “What is it? What’s wrong?”

  Her husband spoke to her in Italian. Mia probably understood, but while Brenna didn’t know what he was saying, she could guess at the content. Even before he’d finished, Grandma Tessa reached for her rosary and began fingering the beads.

  All Brenna could think about was escape. Too many feelings swirled inside of her. She couldn’t name them all, but she sensed they were about to spiral out of control.

  She stood. Grandma Tessa was at her side and hugged her close. “Sweet, sweet girl. You come. We put you to bed, and in the morning you’ll see. Things, they aren’t so bad. Maybe some pasta, eh? To fill your tummy.”

  Brenna hugged her close. “No pasta. I don’t want to eat.”

  What she wanted instead was revenge. Damn Nic for what he’d done to her. And damn his whole family. How dare he play with her? Use her? They’d had sex…she’d given him her heart.

  “I hate him,” she whispered.

  “Who?” her grandmother asked. “Brenna, hate is a sin.”

  “Be quiet, Tessa,” Lorenzo said. “Let the girl be.”

  One small part of Brenna’s brain acknowledged her grandfather’s support, but she couldn’t deal with that right now. Rage swept through her until she thought she might explode.

  Th
e need to move filled her. She headed for the hallway, but before she’d reached it, she heard a familiar sound outside. The sound of a motorcycle.

  The anger in her grew to a life force.

  “I’ll kill him,” she said.

  “All that Italian blood coursing through your veins,” Mia said, taking her arm. “I’m in favor of you telling him exactly what you think, but not right now. You’re too raw.”

  “I’m not raw. I’m empowered. I could rip him apart with my bare hands.”

  “There’s a visual.”

  Mia tugged on her arm, and Brenna let herself be led to the back of the house. “Come on, Sis. You need a drink.”

  “I need to destroy him.”

  “Later. Let Grandma Tessa handle him.”

  Brenna started to protest, but an odd thing happened when she sat down in one of the kitchen chairs. She couldn’t get up. In a matter of seconds her entire body shook as if she were having a seizure. Then she was crying. Great gulping sobs that nearly split her in two.

  “Oh, Mia,” she gasped.

  Her sister sank down next to her and pulled her close.

  “It hurts,” Brenna sobbed. “Oh, God, it hurts so much.”

  “I know. I’m sorry.”

  “I loved him.”

  Mia squeezed her tight.

  Brenna was grateful that her sister didn’t offer any pat phrases of comfort. The truth was, there weren’t any words left that would heal this wound. She’d trusted Nic with her dreams and her heart, and he’d never been interested in either. Instead he’d wanted to destroy her and her family.

  How could she have been so wrong about him? How could she have been such a fool?

  Sometime close to midnight Brenna told herself she couldn’t cry forever. Eventually she would run out of tears, although that didn’t seem close to happening anytime soon. She felt drained and puffy and more than a little sorry for herself. Every twenty minutes or so, a fresh wave of anger gave her energy, but then the sadness drowned it out, and she was left feeling broken again.

  In the past few hours she’d tried to figure out which was worse-her stupidity or Nic’s betrayal. So far it was a toss-up. How could she have been so blind? Hadn’t she learned anything by being married to Jeff and having him leave her? And how could Nic have turned out to be such incredible slime? Worse, he was slime that was damn good in bed.

  Her life had just hit bottom. Not only was she a moron, but she was a moron with a million-dollar debt.

  Mia stuck her head in. “I know you don’t feel like it, but the Grands are fussing, so I said I’d bring you up a tray.”

  Brenna nodded. “That’s fine. Just put it on the dresser.” She sniffed, then pushed herself into a sitting position on the bed. “What are they doing up?”

  “Worrying about you.” Mia set the tray on the dresser, then approached the bed. “We’re all worried.”

  Brenna pulled a tissue from the box and wiped her face. “That’s sweet, but not necessary. I’ve already figured out I’m not going to die because of this. I can’t sleep, I can’t eat, but that won’t last very long. Eventually I’ll snap out of it. Maybe I’ll lose ten pounds in the process.”

  Mia settled on the edge of the mattress. “I’m sorry. Do you want me to call Joe and have him bomb Nic’s house?”

  “Maybe.” Brenna blew her nose. “No, that would be a bad idea. I wouldn’t want Max hurt. I’ll have to figure out my own form of revenge. If I had a chance with Four Sisters, I would go the success route. Man, I would love to rub his nose in it by winning awards and becoming the darling of the wine community.”

  “That could still happen,” Mia said.

  “Not likely. I have a feeling an attorney is going to come calling in the morning. Nic’s going to want his money back.” And she had no way to repay him.

  She looked at her baby sister. “I told him I loved him. Can you believe it? Right before you drove up, I actually said that. Do I have lousy timing or what? Actually I have lousy taste in men.”

  Mia’s mouth twisted. “I never knew he was such a bastard.”

  “Me, either. I hate him.”

  There was another knock on the door. Brenna was surprised when her grandfather walked into the room.

  “Isn’t anyone sleeping tonight?” she asked.

  “I sent Tessa and Mary-Margaret to bed. Mia, it’s time for you to be there, as well.”

  Mia rolled her eyes, then kissed Brenna’s cheek. “If you want to talk later, come wake me up. I’m happy to listen.”

  “Thanks.”

  Her sister stood and left. Grandpa Lorenzo took her seat on the bed. He took her hand in his and patted her fingers.

  “You have been crying,” he announced.

  Brenna did her best to smile. “I already knew that.”

  “About the boy or the money?”

  “Both.” More Nic than the money, which just proved how stupid she was. A sensible person would be more upset about the loan.

  “A million dollars is a lot to cry over. What did you do with it? I know you didn’t buy a new car.”

  She started to laugh, then tears filled her eyes. She brushed them away. “I wanted to start a winery,” she whispered, despite the pain in her chest. “Ridiculous, huh?” She braced herself for the explosion of temper.

  But instead of yelling, her grandfather only shrugged. “Not ridiculous. Not a surprise. How far did you get?”

  The calm response caught her off guard. She blinked away the tears. “Pretty far. I bought those four acres of Pinot grapes I told you about, along with crops. I’m doing a cuvée, a Chardonnay, a Pinot, and a Cab.”

  “Very ambitious.”

  “I wanted Four Sisters to be up and running in two to four years. I figured I knew enough people to get my wines in the right places once it was ready. There would be a few lean years, but once I was through them, I could keep expanding.”

  His dark eyes never wavered. “Four Sisters?”

  She nodded.

  “Where is your wine?”

  “At Nic’s.” She explained how he’d loaned her equipment, a building, and storage facilities. She outlined his seemingly generous offers, only now realizing how each one got her deeper and deeper in debt.

  “I should have realized,” she said. “I should have seen what he was doing.”

  “How? He’s a smart man. Driven. Competitive. I suspect he didn’t plan to use you until you showed up wanting the loan. Then you were an opportunity he could not resist.”

  She’d been easy both in and out of bed. Easy and easily fooled.

  “Did you try getting your loan from the banks?” he asked.

  She nodded. “And the Small Business Administration. I had no collateral, no formal education. They weren’t impressed.”

  “What about your father? Marco has money in trust. He could have made the loan.”

  In hindsight going to her father made a lot of sense. “I thought…” She cleared her throat. “I didn’t want to make him choose between you and me. There’s been so much fighting already. I knew you’d be mad.”

  “Do I look mad?”

  She eyed him. “No. You actually look okay.”

  “See. I’m not so bad.”

  “I didn’t think you were bad.”

  “Just stubborn and set in my ways?”

  Despite everything, she smiled. “Pretty much.”

  Her grandfather squeezed her hand. “I understand.” He leaned close and kissed her forehead. “Now you sleep. Things will look better in the morning.”

  Brenna doubted that was true, but she was ready to be alone so she didn’t argue. She slid down on the bed and closed her eyes. Her grandfather clicked off the light as he left the room.

  Once she was by herself, her eyes popped open and she stared into the darkness. Morning wouldn’t bring relief. Instead it would simply be one more day to survive knowing she’d been a fool for love and a sucker for her dreams.

  Nic waited until after nine the followin
g morning before calling to talk to Brenna. The previous evening when he tried to see her, Grandma Tessa had claimed she was ill. He knew that finding out about what had really happened between the Marcellis and the Giovannis all those years ago had been a shock, but he doubted it had been enough to make her sick. He reminded himself that Brenna had also learned that her grandfather might be willing to sell Marcelli. Still, she’d always been tough.

  He had to speak with her. He hadn’t slept and had nearly gone over there a dozen times in the night. Only the thought of embarrassing her in front of her family had stopped him. But he couldn’t wait any longer. He had to tell her the truth, explain what had happened and why. Make her understand.

  He waited impatiently through three rings. Finally the phone was answered.

  “Marcelli residence.”

  At least Lorenzo hadn’t picked up. He thought he recognized the voice. “Mia?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s Nic. I’d like to speak with Brenna. I came by to see her last night, and your grandmother said she wasn’t feeling well.”

  “She wasn’t.”

  He frowned. “Did she catch a bug?”

  “No, but you could say she escaped from one. Or would worm be a more descriptive term?”

  He got a hollow feeling inside. “Mia, what are you talking about?”

  “You, Nic. The charming, successful Nicholas Giovanni. I would have thought with all your land and money you would be beyond using any means to get what you want, but I guess I’d be wrong. I mean you’re the great-grandson of a weasel bastard; why wouldn’t you be just as devious and backstabbing?”

  Shit! “You know.”

  “That you’ve been planning to buy Marcelli Wines using a front of respectable businessmen because you knew my grandfather would never sell to the likes of you? If you mean that, then yes, we know. We all know. It was quite the surprise. I’ve gotten over it, but Brenna’s having a more difficult time. I wonder why. Hmm, you think maybe for her it got a little personal? You think she’s having a little trouble with the whole betrayal thing?”