The Marcelli Bride
Page 26
They were escorted out of the cave and back to shore by the Coast Guard. Darcy had expected a Secret Service agent or two to be waiting, but what she saw instead was something closer to the staging area for a space shuttle launch. There were five or six ships cruising the immediate area. At least two dozen cars were parked along the sand. Three helicopters sat on the road, and two trucks filled with military personnel stood watch a hundred or so feet away.
Joe took her arm and helped her step onto the sand. She looked from the staring crowd back to him. “All this for me?” she asked, not able to believe it.
“Of course.”
“Wow.”
The fear had faded, but in its place was a shaky feeling. Too much emotion in too short a time, she told herself. She clung to Joe, her only stable point in a spinning world, and promised herself that as soon as she caught her breath she would deal with his amazing and unexpected declaration of love. She would have guessed he cared, but not that he could admit he actually loved her.
The crowd parted and her father hurried toward her. “Darcy!”
He held out his arms.
The unexpected gesture made her hesitate at first, then she rushed forward to hug him. He pulled her close and squeezed so hard, she could barely breathe.
“I was scared to death,” he murmured in her ear. “When I heard what had happened, I couldn’t believe it.”
“Me, either,” she said.
He cupped her face in his hands. “I don’t want anything to happen to you. I’d be lost without you.”
She read the truth in his eyes and felt sadness for all the time they’d wasted.
“I love you, Daddy,” she whispered.
He kissed her forehead. “I love you, too, Darcy. You’re my daughter. You know that, right?”
She nodded, too close to crying to speak. Her father put his arm around her and led her to the waiting SUV. Before she climbed in, she looked back for Joe, but he was gone.
“Where is he?” she asked. “Joe Larson.”
“Debriefing,” her father told her. “Don’t worry. You’ll see him later, and you can thank him for rescuing you.”
She planned to do a whole lot more than that but doubted her father wanted to hear about the details.
“Is Alex all right?” she asked as she slid onto the leather seat.
“Yes. He’s already out of surgery.”
“I’d like to go see him.”
“Of course. We’ll stop by the hospital on our way back to the Marcelli house.”
The Marcellis. She’d nearly forgotten. “The fire. Is everyone all right? Did they get it out?”
“Yes. Just as you were kidnapped, it started to rain. That put out the rest of it. A few acres were burned, but I was told they can be replanted.”
“Ian did that,” she said. “He started the fire as a diversion.”
“The authorities know.”
“You’re not letting that Jonathan person out of prison, are you?”
Her father pulled her close and put his arm around her. “Stop worrying, Darcy. I’m doing a good job of running the country. Just think about yourself and the fact that you’re safe now.”
She hadn’t been held by her father in more years than she could count, but the sensation was still familiar and comforting. Funny how she’d spent so much time looking for a place to belong and it had been waiting for her all along.
• • •
Mia sat alone in the house. She couldn’t remember the last occasion when she’d been the only person there. Usually Grandma Tessa or Grammy M were puttering around, but not this evening. Everyone had gone to the hospital to check on either Alex or Brenna. Mia had promised to come as soon as she could. But she’d needed to be alone. To think. To recover from the horror of what had happened.
Ian had betrayed her. He’d used her to do something horrific, and she’d never had a clue.
She’d trusted him, both in and out of her bed. She’d thought he was funny and smart, if a little too talkative. She’d been friends with him for nearly two years, lovers for three months, and she’d never guessed.
Paige had pointed out that she, Mia, was a civilian. She couldn’t be expected to know. But Mia was used to being smarter than that. No one had ever fooled her so completely.
She reached for her backpack and pulled out her wallet. Tucked inside was a plain white business card. There was no name on it—just a phone number. She’d been given the card one of the many times someone had approached her about becoming a clandestine operative for the government.
She stared at the number for a long time before dialing it.
It rang twice.
“Yes?”
“Hi. I’m, ah, Mia Marcelli. I was given this card a few months ago.”
“One moment, please.”
Mia heard the man typing on a keyboard. “Yes, Mia. I have your file. How can I help you?”
File? She had a file? “I’m interested in what you do. In being, you know, a spy.”
• • •
Paige sat by Alex and held his hand. He was still pretty out of it, but she wasn’t going to let go. Not until he told her to go away, which, based on how out of it he was, wouldn’t be happening anytime soon.
He stirred slightly. She rose and leaned over him.
“Hey, big guy. How are you feeling?”
His eyelids fluttered. “Paige?”
“I’m right here. You had surgery. They poked around and made sure you’re going to be okay. Apparently you got lucky. The bullet didn’t damage anything you couldn’t live without.”
“Good to know.” He stared into her eyes. “Where will you go?”
“After I leave the service?”
“Yeah.”
“Texas. There’s a little house I’ve been looking at outside of Austin. I’m thinking of getting my credentials and teaching.”
“You’d be good at that.” He opened his eyes and drew in a breath. “How small is the house?”
“About twelve hundred square feet.”
“Not much room for anyone else.”
Her heart stopped. She felt it stutter, then still completely. “I didn’t think there would be anyone interested. I haven’t bought the house yet. I could get something bigger, if you wanted.”
He squeezed her hand. “I remember when you told me you didn’t regret losing me. I want to be someone you’d regret losing.”
She bent down and kissed him. “I was mad,” she whispered. “I did regret losing you.”
One corner of his mouth turned up. “I doubt that, but it’s nice of you to say it. I want to change, Paige. I want to matter to you.”
Emotions flooded her. They came on so quickly, she didn’t know which one to experience first.
“You do matter. I love you, Alex.”
The curve turned into a smile. “I love you more. Because you’re a pain in the ass.”
“You act like you’ve got a stick up yours.”
“You’re too emotional.”
“You’re too by the book.”
He gazed at her. “Don’t ever change,” he said. “Promise.”
“I won’t, except I think I want to love you a little more each day. Are you all right with that?”
“Never better.”
• • •
Joe wasn’t sure what the other patients in the small hospital thought about the invasion. There were Marcellis everywhere, Secret Service agents, military personnel, the president, and his two daughters.
He’d been excused from his debriefing to visit Brenna, who’d just given birth. As he left her room, a marine stopped him and said the president would like to see him. Joe followed the man to a busy office on the ground floor of the building. But instead of hospital staff manning the phones7, there were agents and military officers.
Joe walked up to the president and saluted.
Ryan Jensen looked him over. “You’re the man who rescued my daughter.”
“Yes, sir.”
The room went silent. For a split second, no one spoke, no one pretended not to be listening. Then a phone rang and the various staff members returned to their work, although Joe had a good idea they were all still waiting to hear his answer.
Joe squared his shoulders, looked his commander in chief in the eye, and said, “I love her and I intend to ask her to marry me, sir. I don’t know if she’ll have me.”
Jensen didn’t blink. “I see. And if she were to agree, where would you live? On base?”
“No, sir. I’ll be leaving the navy to help run the Marcelli winery. I thought we could build a house near the hacienda. Darcy likes it there, sir. She likes my family. It’s a good place to raise children.”
Jensen’s gaze narrowed. “My daughter is an extremely special young woman. You’d better take damn good care of her.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
“Oh, Daddy.”
Joe turned and saw Darcy standing in the doorway. She looked from him to her father and sighed.
“Stop interrogating Joe. What if he doesn’t want to marry me? You can’t make him.”
“Want to bet?” the president asked.
“I doubt it’s an executive order any of us would be proud of,” she told him, then turned to Joe. “Don’t worry. I’ll get my father off your back.”
He crossed to her and took her hands in his. “I don’t want him off my back,” he said, staring into her eyes and knowing he would never get tired of looking at her. “I want him monitoring everything I do because then he can see how happy I’m going to make you. And because you deserve that. I love you, Darcy. I want to marry you. I want you to have the wedding of your dreams and a life so filled with happiness, you can’t stop telling people how lucky you are.”
A single tear trickled down her cheek. He brushed it away with his thumb. “Why are you crying?”
“Because I’m already so happy.” She threw herself at him. “I love you, Joe. I want to marry you. I want to get married in the gazebo on the winery grounds and have a dress made by the Marcelli women. I want to be a part of your family, and I want you to be a part of mine. I want to have kids and dogs and learn about wine and live with you until we’re older than Grammy M and Gabriel.”
He kissed her. “That’s a pretty big list.”
“You up to the task?”
“Absolutely. I can’t wait to get started.”
They kissed again and went on kissing until the sound of someone clearing his throat interrupted. Joe pulled back. “Think I should ask your dad’s blessing?” he asked with a grin.
Darcy nodded. “He’ll say yes, but it would be a nice gesture.”
He turned to the president, who eyed him with two parts suspicion and one part acceptance.
“Oh, did you hear about Brenna?” Darcy asked.
Joe chuckled. “Oh, yeah. Twins. Brace yourself. They run in the family.”
“We can handle it. We can handle anything.”
Also by Susan Mallery
The Seductive One
The Sassy One
The Sparkling One
Married for One Month
Sweet Success
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
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Copyright © 2005 by Susan Macias Redmond
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