by Cassie Wild
He shook his head at me. “I’ve already got them, Miss Daria.”
He continued on to the door and I turned dazed eyes to Isabel before peeking over her shoulder to gaze up at the house. “Isabel, this place is…wow.”
She shrugged. “It’s home. But I prefer New York.”
“Why?” I couldn’t imagine not wanting to live in a place like this.
“Because I’ve got actual freedom there.” She rolled her eyes. “Or to some extent, at least. My family can’t hover over me from over a thousand miles away. When I’m here …” She gave me another expressive roll of her eyes. “It’s just too much.”
I offered her a sad smile. “Hey, at least you have family.”
Her eyes met mine and she grimaced. “I guess it sounds terrible to somebody who lost both of her moms.”
“I barely remember my real mother,” I said softly with a shake of my head. I’d been taken from her and placed in a private school when I’d been only four. My teachers wanted to enroll me in the best school in Moscow. It was a life-changing experience but it meant I lost my birth mother. Then later when I lost Kiska, it might have destroyed me if I hadn’t found such a true friend in Isabel.
“I’m sorry,” Isabel said. She threw her arm around my shoulder and pulled me in for a hug, pressing her head to mine.
“It’s okay. It happened a long time ago,” I told her. I tipped back my head to stare up at the big house in front of us. Perhaps I’d meet the rest of the family, the brothers and their families who would shelter me during the wedding celebrations. “So, are you going to invite your best friend inside to see your home?”
“Bet your ass. Come on.”
As we started toward the steps, I took in the absolute size of the place once more. “Just what is it your parents do, Isabel?” I asked softly.
“Oh, this and that,” she said in an airy voice. “Come on. Let’s get you up to your room, then I’ll show you around.”
Two
Brooks
My younger brother was getting married.
Sean Downing, my baby brother and the perennial kid, was tying himself down to one woman.
Part of me wanted to tell him not to do it. He was way too young at twenty-two. Hell, I was twenty-seven and the thought of tying myself down to one woman was practically anathema.
That didn’t keep me from being there to support him.
As his best man, it was my job to be there for him through thick and thin, good and bad, drunken hangovers and all that shit.
So that’s what I’d do.
I pulled my car up behind the big Castellano estate where the wedding was to take place. For expediency’s sake, the wedding party was staying here for the weekend. I personally would rather be at a hotel, but I hadn’t argued when the plans were announced.
We’d get away for a while tonight at the bachelor party. I did have a couple of rooms reserved at the hotel where the party was to take place, just in case. I didn’t want anybody driving drunk. Who knows, maybe I’d hook up with a cute bridesmaid and we could sneak off to a hotel so I didn’t have to spend the rest of the weekend around the soon-to-be in-laws.
Sean’s in-laws. Sure, there would be a family connection between me and the Castellanos, but I didn’t plan on letting that change how I’d dealt with them in the past.
I didn’t trust them and I didn’t particularly like them, either.
After parking the car, I climbed out on to the enormous circular drive.
One of the servants was there and offered to hold my keys. Although there were several other cars parked close to the house, I suspected most of the guests had parked in the big, multi-level garage located just off to my left.
“You can park it, but keep the keys handy,” I said.
“Of course, Mr. Downing.” The man gave me a polite nod and took the keys. “Do you have luggage?”
In response, I opened the trunk and pulled out the suit bag that held my tux, as well as a small rolling suitcase.
“We can get those up to your room for you.” He waved at somebody behind me, but I shook my head.
“I’ll deal with my own stuff, thanks.” It was an old paranoia, but when you lived in a family like mine, some healthy paranoia was a good thing.
“Of course.” He gave another polite nod, then gestured at another servant. “Jorge can show you to your room.”
I turned to find two men—one of them being Jorge, I assumed—standing behind me.
One of them was big—like big-as-a-mountain big, dwarfing me even though I stood a solid six foot two. I had no idea who he was and he gave me an impartial look as I started toward them. The guy had to be seven feet tall. I bet he weighed over three hundred pounds and it all looked like muscle. He wasn’t somebody I’d like to meet in a dark alley. And that was probably his purpose here—muscle, just in case anybody stepped out of line.
Knowing what I knew about the Castellanos, they probably needed hired muscle like this.
My family had their own share of hired muscle, so I recognized the type.
As I walked up the steps, I shifted my attention to the other man—Jorge—I guessed he was.
He was far shorter than the other guy and a few inches shorter than me. Yet he moved with a controlled grace that told me he was far from helpless. Probably most of the servants here at the estate doubled as personal security for the family.
“Mr. Downing,” he said, giving me a small half-bow. “I am Jorge. If there’s anything we can do to make your stay more pleasant, please … let me know. Shall I show you to your room?”
“Sounds good to me.” I was supposed to be meeting up with my brothers here in another twenty minutes, and I needed to hit the bathroom first.
Jorge escorted me through the house, pointing out the kitchen and the library, telling me both were open to me at any hour of the day.
“It will be a bit crazed tomorrow, though,” he warned me. “The caterers are already on site getting things ready. Tomorrow is when the madness really hits. If you desire some light refreshment or anything else, you can ring me from the house phone and I’ll see to it personally, should you prefer to avoid the madness.”
“That sounds good to me,” I told him. “Thank you.”
He led me up a set of stairs, pointing out various rooms and objects d’art. I could have told him it wasn’t necessary. I wasn’t really a tour type, but I held my tongue and nodded at all the bullshit I didn’t care about. After all, this was my brother’s wedding.
I could behave myself for that.
“Are you going to tell me what’s up tonight with the bachelor party?” Sean asked for about the hundredth time.
I shared a grin with my older brother, Declan. As always, Declan was quiet to the point of brooding. Like me, though, he was here to support Sean. He was the one to look to the youngest of the clan and say, “You’ll find out tonight. You asked us to plan everything for you, so plan it, we did.”
Oh, hell, had we ever planned it. It was more work getting something like that organized than I would have thought, but tonight, it would all pay off.
It had been a few hours since I’d arrived at the Castellanos’ estate and once I’d gotten settled into my room, I’d been escorted to a game room where my other two brothers were already hard at a game of pool. I watched them trash-talk each other for a while, then stepped up to join in.
I kicked both of their asses and we’d decided to call it quits when Jorge knocked on the door. “Gentlemen,” he said, bowing and scraping to each of us, “a light lunch will be served shortly.” He directed us to the buffet and left us alone.
Our host’s idea of a light lunch was anything but. However, I was hungrier than hell and more than happy to eat almost anything they put in front of me.
Now well over an hour had passed since the remains of lunch had been cleared away and we were left to our own devices.
We’d spent the past few hours going over everything for the wedding, trying on our tuxed
os … again … just so Sean could assure his bride every detail had been taken care of and there was nothing to worry about.
I bit back a smirk as he explained why everybody was trying on the tuxes a third time and he’d given me a look. If you ever get married, man, you’ll understand. Women take this shit seriously.
Once we’d done enough so that Sean felt secure in reassuring Isabel, we settled down to bullshit about women and the world. Now, as the afternoon wore on and the start time for the rehearsal dinner—followed by the bachelor party—drew near, I found myself studying my baby brother.
He was a good-looking kid—okay, at twenty-two, he probably no longer really qualified as a kid, but I didn’t know if I’d ever look at him as anything but my baby brother.
His hair was a little longer than mine, and if it got much longer, it would start to curl, something he’d always hated. The shade was a little lighter than my own dark brown. Both of us had blue eyes, but in the right light, Sean’s almost appeared more purple than blue.
We looked alike, though. There was no denying the family connection between us. Or between us and my older brother, Declan, for that matter.
The similarities ended at our physical appearance, though. The three of us couldn’t be any more different, and not because I was still scratching my head over the choices he’d made.
I couldn’t believe he’d gone and proposed to Isabel Castellanos.
Hell, I couldn’t believe he’d fallen for anybody enough to even consider a monogamous relationship, but Isabel was a whole other ballpark. I didn’t dislike her or anything—I really didn’t know her well enough to form much of an opinion.
She did seem a little spoiled, but like Sean, she was the baby of the family. Maybe that was one of the things they’d bonded over. I had no idea.
He was crazy about her, though. It would take an idiot to miss that fact.
I knew my father had been part of the reason Sean had pursued the relationship as doggedly as he had, but I also knew my brother. If Sean hadn’t been crazy about Isabel, he wouldn’t even consider getting married, no matter how much it helped the family.
As I thought of my family, my own thoughts turned a little grimmer, a little darker.
I’d do a lot for my family—had done a lot, including giving up the career I’d been focused on for a good portion of my life, starting back in high school. I loved my parents and brothers. I was loyal to them.
But one thing was certain—there was no way in hell I’d tie myself down and get married for them.
Logically, I knew that wasn’t the only reason that Sean was getting married. This was Sean, after all. Impulsive, a little self-centered, a little spoiled. But he wasn’t going to make his life choices based on something that would benefit the family.
I, on the other hand ...
Maybe you should be more like Sean. I brushed the thought aside even as it formed.
I was me and I took my responsibilities seriously. Because I did, Sean and my sister, Briar, didn’t have to. They had lives outside the family business.
Somebody touched my shoulder and I looked up to see Declan eying me oddly. “You okay?” he asked. “You’re staring at your whisky like it wants to bite you.”
With a wry grin, I said, “I’m just trying to come to grips with the fact that Sean’s getting married.”
“You’ve had a good long while to get used to it,” Sean said, balling up a napkin and throwing it at me. “So … deal with it already.”
I flipped him off.
He grinned back at me, good-natured as ever.
“Has everybody else involved in the wedding arrived?” I asked, reaching for my whisky. “We’re on a time table for the bachelor party. I don’t want to fall behind because somebody’s running late for the rehearsal dinner.”
“Pretty much everybody is here,” Sean told me. “The only other person we were waiting on besides you and Declan is a friend of Isabel’s, one of the bridesmaids. She was flying in from New York but she should be here by now.”
I nodded, happy to hear it.
Polishing off the rest of my whisky, I put the glass down, then stood. “I want to get in a shower before the … festivities begin, so if you’ll excuse me …”
I nodded at my brothers and set off to find my bedroom in the massive house.
Three
Daria
Our entire apartment could practically fit in Isabel’s bedroom. My jaw all but dragged the floor as she ushered me inside. “Come on, let me show you around a little. Jorge or Angela will have already made sure your bags are in your room.”
I let her pull me deeper inside.
My heart lurched with envy at the window seat, surrounded on the other side by bookshelves. Even under the padded bench of the seat were shelves, all stuffed with books.
I’d never had time to enjoy reading up until I’d come to school in America and Isabel was a huge part of the reason I’d come to love it as much as I did. She’d shared books with me, introduced me to new authors and genres I’d never even thought I’d enjoy.
Now, I was as big a book junkie as she was. “You’ve practically got your own library here,” I murmured, moving to stroke my fingers down the ragged spine of a book that looked particularly well-loved.
“I miss my books,” she said with a heavy sigh. “I’ve bought most of them as e-books now, so I can read my favorites on my tablet. But nothing is the same as holding a book in my hands.”
“Here I was thinking you had a lot of books in the apartment.” I flashed her a grin. “It’s a good thing this is so far from the school, otherwise you might never drag me out.”
She winked at me. “If there’s anything you want to borrow, just ask.”
We wandered through the rest of the rooms, a small sitting area just to the left of her little reading nook, the bed that took up almost the entire far wall, then she escorted me into her bathroom. She gave me an arch look as she announced, “Now you’ll see why I’m always complaining about our bathroom. I miss this.”
This turned out to be a bathroom that was the same size as my bedroom back in New York, complete with a separate shower, a toilet that was tucked in its own little space behind a private door, and a huge, sunken tub with jets. I almost swooned with envy.
“I think,” I said slowly, “if I had a bathroom like this, and all those books out there, I might never, ever leave.”
Isabel grinned at me. “When I’m here, I sometimes lock myself in here for hours, only leaving to get food so I don’t starve to death.” She heaved out a heavy sigh. “I’ll miss this place.”
I glanced at her.
She shrugged. “Sean and I are going to find a place of our own once I’m done with school.”
I almost asked her what she planned to do about her dancing, but decided not to. I’d always gotten the impression that she was at the school to please her family as much as anything else.
“Come on.” She gestured toward the door as we wandered back into her bedroom. “Let me show you where you’ll be staying.”
We were halfway up the steps when Isabel’s phone buzzed. She pulled it out and heaved out a sigh. “It’s Blythe, the wedding planner. She needs me in the kitchen.” With an absent wave of her hand, she pointed up the steps. “Your room is up there—take a right at the top of the stairs, then another right. Your bedroom is the last door on the left. I’ll find you soon, okay?”
I nodded and continued on up as she whirled around to race downstairs. Moving slowly, I took everything in – from the plush carpet to the exquisite pieces of art hanging on the walls. I didn’t know much about art but everything I saw looked expensive.
I found the bedroom easily and slid inside.
My mouth dropped as I took it in. It was almost the same size as Isabel’s room and in front of the window there was a padded seat. A little reading nook. I thought longingly of the book I had tucked into my bag for the flight down here and wondered if maybe I’d have a chance to curl up
and read for a little while.
Shifting my attention to the rest of the room, I breathed out a slow sigh and told myself I wasn’t going to fall on that wide bed, covered with an embroidered comforter of deep, deep blue and laugh giddily.
I might have done it, though. Except a door on the far side opened and a man came through it.
I had to fight the urge to gape at him.
He was naked, save for the towel wrapped around his waist.
He was also gorgeous, so gorgeous I almost swallowed my tongue as I stood there staring at him. Water beaded and rolled down his neck, then on down to a chest so perfectly chiseled, it should be classified as a work of art. A few inches below the low-slung towel, right at his navel, there was a faint line of dark hair and it disappeared behind the towel. The muscles in his arms and what I could see of his legs were clearly defined.
I was a ballerina—the men I danced with were some of the most fit in the world.
This guy could have given them a run for their money.
He looked at me, puzzled.
“What are you doing in my room?” I asked, not knowing what else to say.
“It’s my room,” he replied, a charming grin curling his lips upward.
“But Isabel …” I stopped and shook my head. She must have told me the wrong room. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d given bad directions. I’d gotten lost on the way to pick up a pizza once, thanks to her directions.
“I must be…” I waved a hand toward the open door and the other bedrooms that must be in the hallway. “Out there somewhere.”
He continued to study me. “Russian?”
I nodded cautiously, keeping my eyes locked on his face, not daring to let them stray any lower. I’d seen men wearing less … in movies. But this was the first time I’d ever been this close to a real, live man wearing next to nothing. Heat suffused my cheeks and I doggedly ignored it. “I’m over here for school,” I told him.
