by Calista Fox
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For my readers. I love writing steamy romances for you and giving you a sexy alpha hero to get your pulse racing. Here are two of them, to double your reading pleasure—Rogen Angelini and Vin D’Angelo … and the heroine, Jewel Catalano, who has a heart big enough to love them both.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I would have been excited to write one billionaire ménage story, but was given the opportunity to write three! The Lovers’ Triangle series is a sexy foray into the world of the polyamorous. But beyond the sensuousness and the seductions, there are very real and sometimes raw emotions my characters have to face and fears they must overcome in order to fulfill their hearts’ desires. One of my favorite things about working with my editor, Monique Patterson, is that she’s very astute when it comes to getting to the heart of the matter in a romance. And when it comes to three characters entangled in that romance, I felt I had the absolute right partner to guide me through the process. So, once again, I offer my gratitude to Miss Patterson—it is always fantastic working with you!
My agent, Sarah Younger, is the one who pitched the initial series idea and wove it into a higher concept with Monique. Something I love about Sarah is that she knows I will do everything in my power to go the extra mile for my editor and for my readers. I deeply appreciate her faith in me, and that she embraces the way I enthusiastically bend and flex with changing romantic elements. This series has been an enthralling one to write that has certainly challenged me—and I’ve loved every moment of it!
As usual, I have to thank everyone at St. Martin’s Press who touches the book, keeps the entire process neat and orderly, and never leaves a tie dangling. From the cover art that I always love to the PR and marketing efforts to keeping all of my editing stages on track, I am always in great hands. You all make it much easier to breathe when I’m under tight deadlines!
Finally, I’ve met so many new and incredible readers since my first St. Martin’s Press series, Burned Deep, launched, and I look forward to hearing from more of you! I write from the heart in hopes of sparking something in the people holding my books in their hands. I also have an amazing family/friend support group standing behind me, and I thank all of you.
This series started out as a three-book deal. I was so happy to pull out an old idea I hadn’t fully developed of wine country royalty vying over land in a Montague/Capuletesque feud, and loved writing Rogen, Jewel, and Vin’s story. A modern-day Romeo and Juliet saga with a ménage twist! When I was asked to write five spin-off billionaire ménage romances (my Bayfront Billionaires) that are offered in e-book format, I got to expand this universe of hot, dynamic heroes and the heroines who love them. I sincerely hope you enjoy reading about their journeys as much as I’ve enjoyed writing them!
ONE
“You realize you’re crashing the Angelinis’ party, despite having an invitation.”
Jewel Catalano glanced up from the gorgeous ecru-colored and gold-embossed gala announcement she held in her hot little hands. A very unexpected gift from her assistant, Cameron Valens, who sat next to her in the back of a limo as they traveled the rising and falling slopes of road that cut through endless acres of ripe, rowed vineyards and tree-lined, grass-covered hills leading to the wine community of River Cross, California. Home to two internationally acclaimed vineyards that had sparked the town’s growth and stimulated its economy over the past century: the Catalano winery and the Angelini distillery.
Both cellars of exceptional reputation. Both owners bitter rivals.
“If I’m going to make a major power play for that deadlocked land the Angelinis co-own with my parents,” Jewel contended, “this is my only hope for gaining an audience with Gian Angelini and attempting to strike a deal.”
“You have a bargaining chip to take into the lion’s den?”
Jewel smiled, even though her stomach knotted over how accurate a picture Cameron painted. Yet Jewel truly did have an ace up her sleeve. “Came across it while I was in Paris. I intend to make an offer the Angelinis can’t refuse.”
She’d spent the past six years trying to ascertain what Gian Angelini didn’t have that he might want to get his hands on. Jewel believed she’d finally hit upon it.
As a Senior Vice President of Acquisitions for Catalano Enterprises, Jewel thrived on securing rare possessions to help seal her most lucrative deals. Her experience was that transactions didn’t always boil down to how much money one offered during negotiations. Sometimes it helped to find whatever unicorn was most elusive to the person on the other side of the table and use that to sweeten the pot.
Luckily, she had help in this area from two lifelong friends, Bayli Styles and Scarlet Drake. Bayli was a research hound, and Scarlet had the uncanny ability—and all the right connections—to track down unique treasures. Jewel just had to provide the scent and the girls picked up the trail.
“You are tenacious. I’ll give you that much,” Jewel’s assistant said in her smoky voice. “Gian Angelini is not a man I’d want to go toe to toe with.”
“I’m not exactly looking forward to invading his turf, especially unannounced. But what choice do I have? He hasn’t taken any of my calls or answered my e-mails. When we’re in a roomful of people, however, he won’t be able to ignore me. He might be intimidating as hell, but he has impeccable manners when in the midst of polite society.”
“I still wouldn’t want to be in your Jimmy Choo shoes.”
With a snicker, Jewel said, “I don’t blame you. Thanks, by the way, for finagling this invitation from the printer.”
“How convenient that I’m sleeping with him.” Cameron winked.
“Indeed.” Jewel laughed softly. “And I appreciate you bringing all these documents I needed to sign.” She handed over the stack of papers and Cameron tucked them into a slim black leather portfolio.
Jewel’s assistant had come in from San Francisco, where Catalano Enterprises was headquartered, to meet her at the private hangar on the edge of River Cross that housed CE’s corporate jets so that they could catch up on business.
Jewel had been in France for nearly a week, working a different deal to procure the only building left on Paris’s stunning Avenue des Lamond not owned by CE. Her father, Anthony Catalano, had plans to develop an even more prestigious Champs-Élysées. She was convinced he wouldn’t be satisfied until he’d left his footprint on every major city in the world.
Jewel’s main objective was more localized. She didn’t need her own Champs-Élysées or Taj Mahal. Just a small slice of heaven that was rightfully hers.
Well, almost rightfully hers. For Jewel was heir to property that also belonged to the Angelini estate, making their one and only beneficiary, Rogen, equally entitled.
And it wasn’t exactly a small slice. The massive acreage Jewel wanted full custody of for her own business purposes stretched between the Catala
no estate and the one owned by the Angelinis.
But the tract of land was tied up in messy legalities and a vicious feud between her family and Rogen’s. So all that prime real estate sat undisturbed and undeveloped. A complete waste, in Jewel’s mind.
A thought that festered 24/7 in the back of her head.
The very reason she was currently in River Cross.
“You really think you can sway Gian Angelini?” Cameron asked. She was an attractive woman of forty-six with sophisticatedly coiffed short brown hair and an eye for fashion.
By contrast, Jewel had long sleek blond hair and sapphire eyes that caught the light in the reflection as her gaze shifted to the side windows while she considered the probability of pulling off this latest endeavor.
The driver of the limo took the turn toward the northwestern portion of the county, winding through the manicured township of stylish boutiques, restaurants, and wine bars, with bistro sets dotting pavered patios. There were plenty of lush, verdant courtyards boasting fountains and freshly varnished park benches.
The sun began its gradual descent on the horizon, casting vibrant shades of blood orange, vermilion, and gold across the landscape, turning the mountain range in the distance into a fiery sentinel looming above the river that ran along the base, then weaving its way through the countryside.
Though Jewel had lived in San Francisco since she was eighteen, she’d always loved the elegantly rustic community of River Cross. Yet as the limo traveled farther north she turned away from the mesmeric scenery—before they passed the Angelini estate and distillery on their way to her family’s manor. Her stomach already churned enough over her decision to attend the gala this evening. A tricky, potentially volatile affair that left her on edge and slightly breathless.
She didn’t need to torment herself further over what she might encounter when she set foot on Angelini property for the first time in fifteen years. The mere thought called forth voices from the past. Handsome faces. Stolen kisses. Love, longing, and loss.
Trying to reel in emotions that threatened to get the best of her, Jewel returned to her previous conversation with Cameron, saying, “I believe I can get Gian to see that it makes no sense to keep the land in a stranglehold because of one argument.” Which had erupted over venomous accusations and tenuous emotions shortly after the Angelinis’ young daughter had passed, when Jewel was thirteen. “My parents and Gian and Rose-Marie Angelini used to be the best of friends. Now they despise each other.”
“Such a shame. Do you ever speak with their son?”
“Not in years.”
Rogen was her age, twenty-eight. They’d been close growing up. More than that, really. He’d been her first … everything.
But he’d spent half of his life away from River Cross, only having moved back about six months ago, or so the grapevine reported. Actually, there’d been quite a few rumors whispered of late by a high school friend or two of Jewel’s, mostly about how Rogen’s best friend, Vincent D’Angelo, had returned as well and the two men were currently pleasing several of the pampered “ladies who lunch.” It was hinted the men were experts at doing this at the same time.
Jewel waved a dismissive hand at the gossips. But, admittedly, certain forbidden thoughts cropped up. She fought their elusive pull, including the old memories creeping in on her now.
She tried to shake the remembrance of her past with Rogen from her head. Yet she couldn’t block the mental flash of his vibrant cerulean eyes and wicked grin, which instantly ignited her nerve endings.
Precisely why she didn’t allow herself to indulge in reveries of him.
That and the fact that their family situations did not bode well for any sort of wishful reconciliation. Both fathers had held their grudge to such great extent, they’d done everything in their power to separate Jewel and Rogen when they were teenagers. Gian had shipped his son off to the highest-ranking prep school in the country, Trinity, in Manhattan. Jewel had been prohibited from seeing him, though they’d found sequestered moments together when Rogen had flown in for holidays. Until their junior year. That was when the Angelinis had begun vacationing in Europe, not giving Rogen much chance to come home.
For the most part, Jewel had had to rely on the out of sight, out of mind mentality … or she’d never get past her heartbreak. Both of them. Because her disconnection from Rogen had eventually led her into Vin’s arms. That had gone horrifically wrong around graduation. She hadn’t seen him since. Didn’t speak to him.
And though she’d secretly visited Rogen once at Trinity and then one more time in Italy during a college break, she’d opted to sever the ties with him, too. It’d been excruciating to see each other on such a limited basis. To have to be so sneaky about it. That had never felt right.
Then again, her split from Vin hadn’t sat well with her, either. But it was all a complicated mess that had never been straightened out. Just like the family feud that had started with mourning, morphed into misunderstandings, and then exploded into a vindictive backlash—with the two heirs, Rogen and Jewel, caught in the cross fire. And Vin suffering along with them.
Diverting her thoughts as the limo passed through the massive gates of the Catalano estate, she told Cameron, “Take the car back into the city and enjoy a night out with Spence, on me.” They wove their way through the plush setting of velvety-green grass, voluptuous trees, and gently flowing streams before pulling under the vast porte cochere of the main house.
The driver opened the door for Jewel.
“I’ll see you in the office on Monday morning,” she told her assistant.
“Wait.” Cameron gingerly clasped Jewel’s arm, a hint of warning in her tone. “What about your parents?”
“Not here to grill me over why I’m in River Cross. Thank God. Daddy’s plane hasn’t landed yet from his trip to Aspen and I arranged a day at the spa for Mother.”
“Clever girl,” Cameron said with a conspiratorial grin.
Jewel nodded. It was a huge relief her parents wouldn’t be around to talk her out of attending a party she wasn’t actually invited to. They would make the attempt to thwart her efforts not just because of the difficulty and sensitivity of this impending real estate negotiation—if they suspected anything, that was, because Jewel hadn’t told them her plans, they’d come about so quickly—but also because Rogen would be there.
Her breath caught at the prospect of seeing him after so many years. Chased by a blazing fire in her veins that Vin could be on hand as well. He was the family’s Chief General Counsel now. She’d read that in the Wall Street Journal.
Vin was the last person she wanted to run into this evening. One smug word out of his mouth and she knew her temper would flare. She couldn’t afford that. Jewel had to play this hand calmly and coolly. Which basically meant avoiding Vin D’Angelo at all costs.
It also meant she had to continue greasing the wheels in order to get what she wanted. So she told Cameron, “Send over two cases of our Meritage to the Angelinis, my compliments.” It was the Catalanos’ prized merlot-sauvignon-cabernet blend. “Mrs. Angelini has always favored that variety. We used to provide it for all of her events as a hostess gift. Back in the day.”
“Consider everything taken care of.” Cameron’s manicured fingers slid away, though the concern still rimmed her hazel eyes. “And good luck with your new mission.”
“Thank you.” Jewel exited the car. Adrenaline over the prospect of coming to acceptable terms with Gian mixed with anxiety over seeing Rogen.
And possibly Vin.
She couldn’t argue with the wary voice inside her head that told her this might all be a gigantic mistake on her part. But no one else was making a move on that land. It was high time someone did.
Even if it put her in a prickly situation with three men she wasn’t exactly primed and ready to confront …
But Jewel lived and breathed the adage of no guts, no glory.
She prayed her motto would not fail her tonight!
&nbs
p; * * *
“If I recall correctly,” Vin D’Angelo said to Rogen Angelini as Vin checked his diamond-studded cuff links to ensure they were secure, “there’s a gala about to commence in half an hour. And you’re still in jeans. Dusty jeans and boots, to be exact.” He sniffed the air and added, “You also smell like the stables.”
“Smart-ass.” Rogen dropped his saddlebags on the kitchen table in his three-bedroom house on the Angelini estate and extracted several containers. “I was out riding the adjacent property, collecting more soil samples to keep testing what grapes will grow best on that land. What hybrids I can work with.”
“First of all,” Vin said in his deep, lawyerly voice, “there’s a no trespassing without written consent clause in the contracts your parents and the Catalanos signed when they jointly purchased the property. It even applies to you.”
Rogen smirked.
“Second,” Vin continued, unfazed, “Anthony Catalano will never consent to a sale—and the binding agreements specifically state that Catalanos can only sell their portion of the land to Angelinis and vice versa. Which clearly is never going to happen. So testing the soil is pretty much a waste of time.”
“Doesn’t hurt to be prepared for any opportunity that might come along, my friend.” Rogen had wanted to grow on that property since he could walk the lot line.
Perhaps a slight exaggeration, but still. It was his dream.
“The only thing you need to be concerned about right now is this ostentatious shindig your mother is throwing,” Vin reminded him. “There are over six hundred VIPs from San Diego to San Francisco—and all the Sans and Santas in between—about to fill the mansion and spill out onto the grounds. The Golden Boy son needs to look a little less Lone Ranger and a lot more James Bond.”
“I’ll leave the latter to you. You’ve got that whole Pierce Brosnan thing going on.”
Vin stood six-foot-four and had dark, strategically tousled hair. He had deep-green eyes and broad shoulders women seemed to go for.
