by Calista Fox
Rogen was his direct opposite. A couple inches shorter, though still over six feet, with short, dark blond hair and blue eyes. He currently sported two days’ of stubble along his strong jawline. He was solidly built and athletic, whereas Vin was more sculpted in a refined, sophisticated way.
“I do look damn good in a tux,” Vin conceded as he admired himself in the mirror mounted on the wall beyond the kitchen table.
“Spare me,” Rogen said, the sarcasm dripping from his tone. “Your ego won’t fit in this house with the both of us.”
His best friend chuckled under his breath. “Good point.”
“Who’d you decide to bring as the date du jour?” Rogen asked.
Vin flashed a mischievous grin. “As it turns out, Holly McCormick is back in town. She’ll be on my arm this evening.”
“And no doubt in your bed.”
“Feel free to join us. You know how insatiable she is.”
“The woman doesn’t have an off switch.”
“She certainly enjoys her multiple orgasms. And we enjoy giving them to her.” He winked.
“Tempting,” Rogen mused. “Chances are very good I’ll be taking you up on that offer.”
Several months ago, he and Vin had swapped their corporate offices at Angelini, Inc. headquarters in Tuscany for ones in River Cross. That was when they’d met Holly and spent one overly decadent night in her casita, pleasuring her until the sun came up. And she’d still wanted more.
The ménage had been a going-away present for her, at both men’s suggestion. Holly hadn’t even batted a lash at the risqué proposition. She was a curvy redhead with a hearty sexual appetite and zero inhibitions, which had made for a very memorable evening, with Rogen and Vin working in tandem to get her off. Repeatedly.
Though Holly was not, by any stretch of the imagination, their first foray into threesome territory. Being such close friends all their lives and having such vastly different personalities and dispositions lent to their special talent and innate desire to share a woman in that way.
The discovery of their particular gift had come sophomore year at Yale. Rather accidentally, since Rogen had been at the library when Vin had gotten Amber Halston between the sheets. Rogen had slipped into the dorm room to grab some study notes just as Amber had been hitting her high notes. Things had escalated from there.
Both men had maintained a modicum of discretion with their forbidden affairs in college. When they’d started working in the Italy offices after Rogen received his MBA and Vin graduated from law school, they’d come upon several gorgeous European women who were more than amenable to a ménage à trois.
Both Rogen and Vin had immediately realized that making a woman come with two pairs of hands and lips on her body and two cocks to satisfy her was a heady rush. And they were damn good at racking up the orgasms.
But always on a temporary basis.
“Holly’s aware you’re not looking for any sort of commitment, right?” Rogen had to lob the cautionary sentiment out there, since women flocked to Vin’s commanding presence and latched on quickly. Held on tight.
Rogen had his fair share of admirers, but he’d been told on numerous occasions that he exuded a razor vibe that apparently told women he wasn’t interested in a permanent love connection without him even saying a word.
“I trust my reputation precedes me,” Vin said. “I have neither the time nor the desire to get involved. In fact, this is the first night I’ve taken off in weeks. Your family keeps me busy, no doubt there.”
“Dad doesn’t believe in resting on his laurels. Conquer the world is his current mission.”
“Are you sure it’s not to rank even higher on the Forbes billionaires list?”
“It does annoy him that he flip-flops with Anthony Catalano on that damn list.”
“Well, I’ll bet he’s feeling a bit of vindication, throwing another extravaganza the Catalanos aren’t invited to.”
“They wouldn’t come if they were invited, out of sheer principle. Neither side cares about appearances when it comes to this feud, which I think everyone has long since forgotten how it even started.” He shook his head. “It’d be nice if they just fucking got over it already.”
“That’d certainly make things easier on the heirs.” Vin scowled. “Or maybe not. You and Jewel are nothing but a rose garden filled with thorns.”
Rogen didn’t allow himself to travel the path of wishful thinking when it came to her. Despite wanting to see her. Jewel Catalano lived in the city and, from what he’d heard, she didn’t visit River Cross all that often.
A moot point, really. They were long over. Still, Rogen would be lying to himself if he denied she was the reason he didn’t date any more seriously than Vin did. Both men had been hooked on her in one way or another since they were kids. And both men knew all that had ever brought to either of their lives was more complication.
Vin didn’t typically speak of Jewel, and Rogen respected his privacy on the matter. Rogen had no idea what had happened between the two of them after he had been sent to Trinity, a year after the dispute over the untouched land had flared. The exile from California had happened right around the time Rogen and Jewel had fallen in love—a huge source of contention for their parents, who’d proven they would do anything to keep the two away from each other. And had succeeded, for the most part.
Rogen had his suspicions as to how Jewel and Vin’s friendship had progressed after he’d left but wasn’t really sure he wanted to know the actual details. Vin’s intensity when the subject came up was a loud and clear warning for Rogen to avoid the topic entirely. Vin clearly felt the same. Hence the scowl.
Rogen said, “I’d better get around. I’ll see you in a little while.”
“I’m taking one of the limos to pick up Holly. We’ll be along shortly.”
“Don’t get that particular party started without me.” He grinned.
Vin chuckled again, on his way out the door. Rogen hit the shower and shaved. As Chief Operating Officer of Angelini, Inc., which housed its auxiliary offices within the estate, Rogen was usually on the clean-cut side. But he didn’t mind the scruffy jaw when working the vineyard or doing his soil testing.
He dressed in an Armani tux, then raked a hand through his hair, making it stand a little on end. He took an all-terrain Rhino to the service entrance of the mansion and joined the festivities as they were getting under way.
He grabbed a glass of champagne from a passing server. There were numerous food stations and seafood towers, plus hot- and cold-passed hors d’oeuvres. Free-flowing champagne and the distillery’s top-notch cognacs.
A pianist and a harpist were set up in one of the courtyards. A steel-drum band played in the gardens. An eighteen-piece orchestra took requests on the event lawn. And a contemporary band rocked the grand ballroom.
Tree trunks outside were all lit with clear twinkling lights. Candles burned in hurricanes and decorative lanterns. Inside, the chandeliers glowed brilliantly, sending glittery rays across the cream-colored marble floors. All of the rooms designated for entertaining flowed into one another, making it easy for groups to mix and mingle.
Rogen greeted guests, accepted pecks on the cheek, shook hands, and chatted everyone up as he moved toward the spacious great room by the entryway. There he dropped off his empty glass and was served another before strolling closer to the foyer to ensure there was a welcoming committee at the front door.
He drew up short when he caught sight of a striking blonde wearing a one-shouldered sparkling dress in ice blue that set off her sapphire irises. She stood on the landing of the steps that led down into the great room, adjacent to the twin staircases that stretched and curved to the second floor and beyond to two more floors.
Rogen did a double take. He absorbed the sight of her from head to toe, including the slit in the left side of her dress that started at her slim ankle and ran clear up to the top of her shapely thigh, where a diamond-encrusted brooch was pinned.
&nbs
p; His cock sprang to life. His pulse shot through the roof.
It was her.
Rogen handed over his crystal flute to another server and worked his way through the crowd, his heart hammering. He took the three steps up to the landing and asked, “Are you a mirage?”
Jewel gave him a beautiful bright-white smile. “Not that I’m aware of.”
“Because I’ve fantasized about you appearing out of thin air when I least expect it.”
“Sorry to catch you off-guard. It couldn’t be helped.”
“Do you hear me complaining?”
Her smile softened. “I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about me showing up.”
“Like I just took a dive out of an airplane and am free-falling without a chute.”
“Interesting.” She stared up at him, her big blue eyes shimmering under the chandeliers. “I know the feeling.” Her voice was low and evocative. Breathy.
“Good.” He mentally shook his head. Maybe it wasn’t so good they still reacted so strongly to each other. Especially after what Vin had said about the thorns. Rogen changed the subject. “I don’t recall seeing your name on the guest list.”
“Nor would you. I’m crashing. For a good cause, I promise.”
“I don’t care that you’re crashing,” Rogen said with conviction in his tone. “It’s fucking incredible to see you, Jewel.”
So much for changing the subject …
But, damn—it’d been seven long years since he’d last seen her.
His gaze slid over her from head to toe and back up. Slowly, as he once again took in the long, sculpted leg on display, the gentle rounding of her hips, the dip of her waist where the material clung to her feminine curves, her enticing breasts, her bare shoulders.
He soaked in all that creamy, silky-looking skin. The long column of her neck. Her full, glossy lips, which were slightly parted as she drew in wispy breaths.
Shiny blond hair was swept away from her delicate features to fall in a sleek curtain between her shoulder blades. Her dark irises continued to glow seductively.
Rogen’s chest pulled tight. His cock pulsed with erratic beats.
“You’re sensational,” he said, completely blown away by the sight of her.
The corners of her mouth quivered. A hint of mist covered her eyes. “I’m not really sure I prepared myself enough for a reunion.”
Her fingers curled around her silver satin clutch as though that would keep her from touching him.
Frustration tore through him. Rogen burned for her touch. Instantly. Fervently.
“Jesus, Jewel,” he murmured. “You could stop a man’s heart looking like that.”
“Rogen…” She stared deep into his eyes. Searching them. Likely looking for all the elusive answers even he’d never found when it came to the two of them.
“I’ve missed you,” they said in unison. Each took a stride closer to the other, then instinctively stepped back.
Rogen let out a low growl, annoyed with himself. “We’re not fucking teenagers, Jewel. If I want to hug you, it’s no one’s goddamn business but mine.”
“I know. You’re right. Of course.”
He closed the gap. His head dipped and his lips brushed over her cheek. He inhaled her rich, sultry scent. And everything inside of Rogen went haywire.
“Fuck,” he muttered. Moved a bit away from her. Shoved a hand through his hair. His gaze roved her body again and his jaw clenched.
Jewel seemed to swallow down a lump of emotion before she said, “You look good. C-O-O of Angelini, Inc., suits you. So does the tux.”
“I prefer my jeans, but what can you do?” He tried to lighten the suddenly tense moment. Yet every muscle in his body was rigid with wanting her. That rapidly. That painfully.
She gave him another pretty smile, though it looked a bit strained. Like she felt the electric current of their unwavering attraction—and the tormenting tension it elicited.
“How’d the California cowboy make it through an East Coast prep school and Ivy League college?” she asked.
“That’s the last thing I want to talk about.” He stepped toward her again, held her gaze, and continued the free fall. “Tell me why you’re here. And it’d better have something to do with being desperate to see me.”
Desire flashed in her eyes. Along with something deeper, darker. Something elusive. Alluring. Soul stirring.
Yet a heartbeat later—
“Yes, Jewel. Please do tell us why you’re here.”
Rogen winced at his mother’s smooth, cultured voice shattering the private moment he’d shared with Jewel. Too fleeting a span of time.
His father added, “This is quite a surprise, young lady.”
Jewel’s soft features hardened—a soldier preparing for battle. Regret replaced the desire in her sapphire irises. She appeared reluctant to drag her gaze from Rogen but turned her attention to his parents. “I apologize for the intrusion. I need to speak with you, Mr. Angelini. It’s important.”
Rogen’s parents exchanged a curious look.
His mother said, “I trust everyone’s well at your estate?”
“Yes, of course. We’re all perfectly healthy. I hope the same goes for your family.”
“It does,” his mother assured Jewel. “And thank you for the meritage. That was … considerate.” That last word seemed to push the boundaries of civility where Rogen’s mother was concerned.
Jewel pretended not to notice. “I was pleased to hear that you were entertaining. Your parties have always been the talk of the Valley.”
“I plan to host them more regularly.”
“That’s wonderful.”
Though the conversation was cordial, there was no mistaking the underlying hostility on his parents’ part, the contained aggression and bitterness exuding from them. It infuriated Rogen that they directed their angst toward Jewel. Like him, she was but a victim of circumstance when it came to the dispute.
But Rogen’s admiration for her surged as Jewel squared her shoulders and lifted her chin. She boldly told his father, “I only need a few minutes of your time. Then I’ll leave.”
Rogen didn’t like the sound of that. Though he was dying to know what business Jewel was here to discuss, he was mostly agitated that she intended to make a hasty retreat.
Hoping to stall her exit, he suggested, “Why don’t I get us all some champagne?”
He headed off for a tray of glasses, his mind whirling over how to get Jewel to stick around awhile longer.
This was the first time since he’d returned to River Cross that he’d had the chance to see her, to talk to her. He sure as hell wouldn’t let the opportunity to spend more time with her slip through his fingers.
His family and a fifteen-year feud be damned!
TWO
Jewel gave herself a quick mental pep talk to try to bring her anxiety down. She wasn’t sure what was more unnerving—Rogen looking too stunning for words in his tux, the fact that he’d kissed her and he exuded raw, sensual male heat, or the stare-down from his parents.
Deep breaths, Jewel. You can do this.
She respectfully asked, “May we step into your office, Mr. Angelini?”
Mrs. Angelini looked on the verge of protesting, but her husband raised a hand to stop her and said, “Ten minutes are all I can spare, Jewel. I have guests.”
“Of course.” She slid a glance to the matriarch of the family, her wheat-colored hair elegantly styled, her attractive face perfectly made up. Rose-Marie Angelini was a slim, statuesque woman who favored blue dresses and always dripped diamonds. Her husband was a sturdy sort, as tall as Rogen, with dark blond hair that had grayed at the temples. Gian Angelini was handsome in his own right but didn’t hold a candle to the rugged good looks of his son.
That man had an earthy quality to him that made Jewel want to strip him bare and crawl all over him.
But that was currently neither here nor there.
Focus!
She’d won the opportunity
she’d brazenly come for. She couldn’t afford to spoil it by getting lost in thoughts of Rogen naked and sinking deep into her.
Which spawned a dull ache and a slow burn that spread from her belly to her core. Her pussy clenched with memories of being filled and stretched by Rogen as he set a sexy, enticing pace that always made her lose herself in the feel of him, the smell of him. Her love for him.
But that was all in the past.
Come on, Jewel. Pull yourself together.
She fought the allure of Rogen. Her sudden need for him. Fully realizing that, indeed, she had made a tragic mistake by coming this evening. She danced much too close to the flame where he was concerned. But at least she’d scored an audience with Mr. Angelini.
That was the ultimate goal—not ending up in Rogen’s bed at the end of the night.
Because that would never happen, she told herself. No matter how tempting he was.
She made another apology to Mrs. Angelini for the interruption and followed Gian through the maze of marbled corridors to the back of the mansion.
The last time Jewel had been here was right after nine-year-old Taylor Angelini had died. The funeral service had been heart wrenching, most of it spent with Jewel standing graveside between Rogen and Vin, the three holding hands, not even trying to fight back tears.
During the wake in this very house, they’d left the adults and the other kids to escape to Rogen’s room and put the bleak atmosphere behind them. As always, they’d settled on the big bed, Rogen and Jewel listening to music, Vin reading a book. Vin was always reading a book.
Jewel recalled how stark and grim the mansion had seemed when she and Vin had left in the morning, having fallen asleep in Rogen’s room, exhausted from the emotional turmoil. The house staff had appeared somber. There’d been a lot of watery eyes and quiet consoling. Above that, the mansion had a fragile air to it. The entire place had felt brittle, like they were all standing on a treacherously thin patch of ice that could crack at any moment. Pull everyone under.
That was very reason Jewel was pleased the Angelinis had eventually begun entertaining once more. It’d taken over a decade for them to host a party, but Jewel supposed it was difficult to hear laughter echo through the vast hallways and know it would never again be your daughter’s.
