by Joanne Rock
“You bring my mother into this, I guarantee I’m not going quietly.” He was doing his damnedest to keep a lid on his temper, but what was wrong with this guy? Wasn’t he carrying the badass big brother thing a little too far? Hugh said he was willing to go, damn it. “Just let me tell Giselle I’m leaving and I’ll be hauling ass out of your driveway before you can say—” the words “hockey goon” teetered on his lips, but he managed to keep them locked down in deference to Giselle “—game over. So if you’ll just let me grab my things—”
He shifted toward Giselle’s room, but the big brother in a snit wasn’t having it. He snarled out a warning growl, his overinflated shoulders shadowing every movement of Hugh’s.
Hissing out a sigh between his teeth, he changed tactics. “Look, I understand you’re only protecting someone you care about. And I think it’s great that you don’t want to see your sister hurt. But did it ever occur to you that maybe she’d be hurt more if I don’t say goodbye?”
On the other side of the bedroom door, Giselle’s heart melted at Hugh’s sweet words. Never in all her years had Nico failed to scare the living daylights out of any male who showed interest in her, yet Hugh seemed to be standing down all six foot five pissed-off inches of him. She’d about rocketed out of her bed when she’d heard the yelling and cursing in the hallway. And she’d made a mad dash for enough clothing to be able to go out there and keep Nico from killing Hugh. But by the time she’d wriggled into shorts and a big T-shirt, she realized Hugh was actually conversing with her bully big brother.
Amazing.
She stepped out into the hallway, not surprised to find them standing toe to toe, expressions grim. Nico still wore his coaching clothes while Hugh at least had the foresight to pull on shorts, if nothing else. Thankfully no punches were being thrown, a miracle she attributed to Hugh’s cool head and his way with words. Apparently neither of them even noticed her arrival since nobody turned her way. She spied a bruise purpling just above Nico’s nose.
“Nico, this is my guest.” She tilted her head into his range of vision, directly in front of Hugh. It was like entering a testosterone force field with a whole host of unspoken male dynamics pinging back and forth. Ignoring the high tensions, she forced herself to remain calm. Cool. In control. “If you had called me from the road to let me know you were coming home early, I would have been able to warn you.”
Which was not exactly the full truth. If she’d had any notion her brother would show up here, she wouldn’t have opted to spend time at the Cesare house.
He spared her a glance but didn’t back up a step. “I came home because I heard about the articles running in the Herald. I figured you’d be upset.” His eyes narrowed. Flicked back to Hugh. “Is this guy capitalizing on a weak moment?”
Her calm and cool vanished. How was it that siblings knew exactly which buttons to push to make you the most furious? “Are you implying I’m such a spineless twit that I would throw myself into a man’s arms just because of a little adversity in my life?”
Nico did back up a step then. Wise man. “All I’m saying is that I don’t like coming home to find some strange guy walking around the house in the middle of the night.”
Hugh cleared his throat. “Definitely not a good kind of adrenaline rush.”
Great. Now even Hugh was siding with her lunatic sibling?
She frowned at Nico and prepared to offer up a sharp retort, but then she caught the waning strains of worry in his expression.
“I’m sorry we caught you by surprise. Nico, this is Hugh Duncan, a local journalist.” She didn’t want to wade through the fact that Hugh also happened to be penning the articles that were causing her grief lately, opting instead to plow through the rest of the awkward introductions. “Hugh, this is my brother Nico Cesare, goalie coach with the Florida Panthers.”
Hugh nodded his acknowledgement while Nico scowled at him as if trying to decide which limb to break first. Still, Hugh made an attempt at being polite. “Congratulations on the coaching gig. Must be nice to stay with the team you took to the Stanley Cup finals.”
Giselle winced, knowing Nico was still reeling with the fact that he’d never be able to play hockey at his former capacity again. As she wondered how they could escape the uncomfortable scene, Hugh came to her rescue by edging past them.
“Well, it seems like you two have some catching up to do.” He squeezed Giselle’s shoulder as he moved toward the door to her bedroom. “I’ll just grab my things and be out of your way.”
“Hugh, wait.” She started to follow him into the bedroom when Nico hauled her backward.
“If I see my baby sister in her bedroom with a half-naked man I don’t even know, I’m gonna lose it.” He rested his chin on top of her head as calmly as if she wasn’t kicking him in the shin.
“I like him, Nico,” she bit out the words low enough that Hugh wouldn’t hear. Silly because Hugh obviously knew she liked him given everything they’d done together the night before. “Give me two freaking seconds to say goodbye.”
When Nico didn’t let go, she had no choice but to resort to an Indian burn, a surefire childhood fighting tactic that even made her big, bad brothers falter. Still.
Buying herself a small window of freedom while Nico cursed his new injury and ducked into the bathroom to put his arm under cold water, Giselle slid into her bedroom where she found Hugh dressed and ready to go. He snitched a handful of raspberries from the leftovers on her nightstand and popped them into his mouth one at a time.
“I don’t think I’ll ever look at fruit in the same way after tonight.” The wicked grin he flashed her put her at ease. Apparently he wasn’t too upset about nearly getting pummeled by her brother.
“Sorry about what happened. He was supposed to be on the road with his team all week and—”
“Florida’s playing on the West Coast for two more games. It couldn’t have been easy for him to take the time to get back here.” He tossed the last berry into his mouth. “He must have been really worried about you.”
“You don’t think he’s a total maniac for the whole scene in the hallway?” She hadn’t brought many men around her brothers before, but the few that she had while in college had practically run screaming in the other direction.
He reached to touch her hair, smoothed his fingers over the tiny braid she’d forgotten he put there. “I think you’re lucky to have a family who’s always got your back. My family split to the four winds a long time ago.”
Lucky? She’d never get lucky again now that her brother was back in town. But she kept the thought to herself, knowing their time together was short. “I’ll probably head over to the club today. It’s my night off, but now that my brother’s here, I’ll be better off there. I’ve got a recipe that needs some work anyhow.”
And she still hadn’t called the restaurant reviewer. Lainie would be disappointed in her—with reason—if she didn’t hold up her end of the publicity campaign efforts for Club Paradise. But, man, it wasn’t easy to put herself, her cooking, on the line that way.
“This goodbye is taking too damn long,” Nico shouted from the hallway.
Which made her realize she had to start putting herself on the line in more ways than one if she ever wanted the freedom to make her own mistakes. And she was going to start as soon as she and Nico were alone.
Arching up on her toes, she kissed Hugh’s warm, stubble-covered cheek. “Thank you for following me yesterday.”
“My pleasure.” He pressed her close for a moment before releasing her again. “And I’m sorry about the grief my articles are giving you.”
Unwittingly, Hugh reminded her of yet another arena of her life where she needed to start getting tougher. Stronger. She mentally rolled on the boxing gloves for another round with Lainie since they would probably need to discuss the latest developments with the Robert Flynn news coverage.
Still, she didn’t plan to let it get the best of her. And she wouldn’t allow Lainie to skip out on the w
ords that needed to be said between them this time.
Taking a deep breath, she smiled at Hugh as he reached for the door. “That’s okay. I’m going to handle it.”
SHE COULD DO THIS, DAMN IT.
Moments after she saw Hugh out the front door, Giselle wandered back to the kitchen to face down her first challenge. If she could assert herself with Nico today, maybe she’d have enough courage to go in for round two with Lainie later. God, could she be dealing with stronger personalities? If she had any sense she would have sicced the two of them on each other a long time ago. Let them wear one another out with their endless stores of confidence and mutual need to be in charge.
But for now, she would face them down individually to prove to herself she could be her own woman.
She found Nico in the kitchen seated on the countertop beside one mango and sniffing the other one that had been on the cutting board. When he spied her entering the room he juggled both of the fruits in the air.
“These smell fantastic. Does Florida have mango groves?” He surely asked her a question about the food because he was trying to be nice. Thoughtful. He knew how much she loved discussing recipes and preparation methods.
In the past, she would have allowed him to win her over by accepting the olive branch. Not today.
“Hugh brought them for me from the Cayman Islands. Apparently they are in season down there.” She marched over to the counter and picked up a knife. “Want me to cut you a slice?”
He dropped the fruit back on the counter with a thud. “The Cayman Islands? Isn’t that where the paper said sleazebag Flynn is calling home these days?”
“Hugh is the newspaper reporter writing the articles on the sleazebag.” Information which was sure to give her brother another round of apoplectic fits.
“Run that by me again?”
“You heard me. Hugh is the reporter who chased down Robert.”
“Holy sh—I mean, how in the hell did you end up boffing the guy who is raking your life over hot coals? Have you read the stuff he’s writing, Giselle, or have you gone into denial about what this means?” He stared at her with the earnest eyes he’d inherited from their father, eyes that could flirt with a vengeance but also showcased his sincerity when the situation called for it. And right now, Nico’s gaze displayed the genuine fear, worry, she knew her father would have had for her if he’d been there.
“I know what it means. It means there’s no easy out for the mess I made for Lainie Reynolds last year. It means I can’t sweep my affair with the sleazebag under the rug just because he had the good manners to get the hell out of the country after it happened.”
“This Lainie chick is sort of senior partner in your management group?” For all the time Nico had spent at Club Paradise over the last few months looking out for his sister, he hadn’t really absorbed much about her job or workplace, other than to decide it was too risqué an environment for her. But he hadn’t been paying much attention to the rest of the world since the hamstring injury that kept him from taking his NHL career to the top.
“Yes. And she also happens to be the woman Robert was married to at the time I dated him. Have you been paying any attention this year?”
Nico slid off the counter and foraged in the refrigerator for food. “Lot on my mind, Giselle. Besides, I work hard to zone out when it comes to the whys and wherefores of your dating life.”
Executing a dramatic shudder of disgust, he hauled out the complete contents of the deli drawer Giselle had just replenished and slapped a stack of meats and cheeses on the counter.
“Well I’ve decided I’m not going to run and hide from my mistakes anymore. If Hugh’s articles lure Robert back to South Beach—”
“Then I’ll kick Flynn’s ass like I wanted to the first time.”
“I’ll work twice as hard at the resort to counteract the potential public backlash.” By having the best restaurant reviews on the strip, for one thing. And maybe she could find a way to publicly denounce Robert and his actions. To somehow highlight the severing of ties between the former management group and the current owners.
Lainie would definitely be all for it. And Giselle did owe the woman whatever recompense she could offer, especially since Lainie had refused to hear out an apology.
“You already spend too much time in the middle of sin city central. Do you know how tough it is to see you hanging out around all the naked floor shows and the erotic artwork? Plus I hear most of the rooms come with an option for handcuffs.” He whipped a splot of mustard onto his sandwich and used his knife like a stick making a slap shot across the Italian bread. Mustard flew everywhere, followed by mayonnaise.
“Nico, we’ve been over this.” She yanked the knife away from him before he hurt somebody with it. “You think it sucks to see me working at Club Paradise, but have you considered that it also hurts me to think you’re not proud of what I do? That you’re embarrassed of what I’ve worked my tail off to achieve? I’m not asking you to love the resort, but do you have to pan it at every given opportunity? There’s a lot of me in those walls—from the thoughtfully designed late-night menu of aphrodisiac delicacies to the kinds of erotic artwork we’ve chosen for every guest room. When you criticize the club, you’re criticizing me, too.”
He frowned. “I thought aphrodisiacs were a myth.”
“Don’t change the subject, smart-ass. Do you hear what I’m saying to you?” She thunked his forehead with two fingers, careful to avoid the bruise just above his nose as she checked for hollowness. “Anyone in there?”
He seized her fingers, tugging her hand back down. “I hear you. I’m just…processing.”
“Well, process this—I adore you, big brother, and I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, but I can’t have you and Renzo showing up at the nightclub every night. I can’t have you checking in on me and picking fights with guys I’m dating.”
“Tonight was different—”
“Tonight wasn’t the first time you’ve tried to send one of my boyfriends running.”
“It’s just that I worry about you, damn it. Haven’t I always taken good care of you? You know how many premature grays you’ve given me and Vito and Renzo?” He ducked his head so she could see all of twelve gray hairs at each temple. “They’ve been there ever since you turned thirteen.”
The year her father died. The year she got breasts. The year her three older brothers realized they didn’t have a clue how to talk to her about anything happening in her life at the time.
“Girls go through puberty every day. It’s not the end of the world you all made it out to be.”
He snorted and finished making his sandwich. “Yeah, well, we weren’t sure at the time. Remember how I had to go down to the school to talk some sense into the kid who snapped your bra strap?”
“He cried for something like two days straight after that.” She tucked the lunch meats back in their packages and stuffed them in the refrigerator as he finished up with each kind. “Have you ever heard of moderation?”
“And don’t forget who told you about the facts of life. You think that was a walk in the park for college guys? Even mature, responsible Vito didn’t have a clue how to touch that one, but he stepped in and gave you the straight scoop?”
“You summed it up well in those three typed lines you slid under my door, Nico. Thank you.” Sighing, she wondered where in the hell they were going with this ridiculous conversation. “If I haven’t told you lately, I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me.”
He shrugged. Shuffled his feet before leaning a hip into the kitchen counter. “Shit, Giselle. I’m not asking for props, I’m just trying to let you know I don’t mean to give you a hard time. When you’ve been looking out for someone for so long, it’s hard to let go.”
She didn’t have a chance of hanging on to her anger in light of all that sincerity. That love. Sometimes she forgot her brothers weren’t just on her case because they wanted to make her life hell. Bottom line, they did
n’t want to see her hurt.
Stretching up on her toes she planted a smooch on his shoulder. “I know you’re only trying to help. But can you just think about what I said? Try to give me a little more breathing room.”
He debated the request over at least three huge bites of a ham, turkey, roast beef and pastrami sandwich. Finally he nodded. “I’ll talk to Renzo about it.”
Smiling, she gave him a squeeze. “Thank you.”
“But if this Hugh character tries to snap your bra or, God forbid, anything worse, I’m still going to be gunning for him.”
11
HUGH RAN FROM THE seventy-year-old lady in accounting who’d been gunning for him all day.
Down two flights of steps, and then winding through the serpentine maze of desks and cubicles on another full floor of editorial, he figured there was no way in hell she could navigate those steps as fast as him, but already he heard her asking one of the health and medical reporters if he’d seen Hugh.
Could he help it if his expenses were high this month? His editor gave him the green light to use whatever resources necessary to work the Robert Flynn story, yet the lady in accounting always acted like every dime spent by the Miami Herald had been personally pried out of her purse.
Which was why he’d decided to dodge her through a sea of reporters on the lifestyles floor. His editor could deal with her later. Right now, he needed to hide out by the food critics just a little longer before he could—
A sweet trill of soft feminine laughter assailed his ears, scattering his thoughts.
The laughter reminded him so much of Giselle and the infectious delight she took in the small things in life. Assuring himself he was only imagining the sound of her voice, he followed the direction from which it originated anyhow.
He’d been thinking about her ever since he’d left the Cesare house at the crack of dawn. He’d seen dangerous hints of vulnerability in her in those moments before he left. She’d warned him that she was a traditional girl at heart, yet he’d showed up at her doorstep to woo her with mangoes instead of flowers. And he knew damn well he’d never be able to offer her anything beyond a temporary good time given his commitment to his career. And even if she could be satisfied with a gypsy lifestyle, the idea of long-term relationships still gave him hives thanks to his extended family’s inability to make any marriage work.
