by T. M. Cromer
“Not again! Please don’t ask. You don’t happen to have a spare set of scrubs I can borrow, do you?”
Tony studied her briefly and broke out in a wide grin. “Sure. I sense a good story, but it can wait until dinner. Mama called a family meeting. Did you get her messages?”
“Messages? As in plural?” Hope groaned inwardly. That meant her mother had been trying to reach her for a while now. If she didn’t get an immediate response, she’d try all the siblings multiple times until she received answers.
Hope patted her jeans and her jacket pockets. No phone. “Crap. I must have left it at the bar. Can you text Val to see if he picked it up?”
“Will do. Come on, there’s a lull in the madness, and I’m between patients. Let’s get you cleaned up. Oh, and dinner is at seven.”
After she’d washed up and changed, Tony lead her back to the waiting room. The two of them killed time and caught up on the current happenings in St. Helena from the past week.
“Did you hear Mrs. Stevenson struck her husband in the head with a hammer?” Tony asked around a bite of cupcake he’d found in the doctor’s lounge.
“No!” Hope gasped. “I hadn’t heard. Did he…” She trailed off. The thought of poor, sweet Mr. Stevenson being dead made her sad. He was eighty if he was a day, and his crazy wife was roughly the same age.
“He’s fine. She happened to hit the plate he’s had in his head since the Korean war. Plus Mrs. Stevenson only weighs about ninety pounds soaking wet. She has no upper arm strength.”
She breathed a sigh of relief. “Tell me they put that nutty, old bat in a home.”
“Nope. The mister refused to allow it. Claims she’s the same today as she was the day he married her. He loves her.”
“What is that, like the fourth time she’s tried to kill him this year?”
“Third. But yeah, I do worry that one day she’ll succeed,” Tony said, resignation heavy in his voice. He jumped up when his phone buzzed. “Got to run. See ya tonight.”
Some days it was still hard to believe her oldest brother was a doctor. The guy had pulled wings off of butterflies when he was a kid, for goodness sake. She grinned and shook her head at how well they’d all turned out. Five kids with no father? It had been iffy. Her poor mother. They all cut their mom slack for that reason.
“What are you smiling about? Our kiss, I hope.” Leaning against the door frame was Royce, his wrist in a temporary cast.
“No. And we never kissed. Stop saying we did. You fainted like a little girl.”
“We can correct that.” His hopeful countenance had her laughing.
“Do your corny lines really work?” she asked, curious in spite of herself.
“I’ll let you know later tonight,” he said smoothly.
Ugh, she’d asked for that one.
“Okay, Romeo, let’s get you back to your girlfriend.”
Hope was fishing with that line and received an odd look for her efforts. Instead of letting her pass, he blocked her path.
“I’m Ashley’s agent. I don’t sleep with my models. It’s bad business.”
“Agent? Oh crap! We have a meeting today…” she checked the time on the wall clock behind him. “… in five minutes.”
“You’re H.M. Fiore?”
“I am. I never put two and two together with your name earlier. I’m sorry.”
“No worries.” He gave a woozy shrug and nearly fell over.
“You okay? What’d they give you? An elephant tranquilizer?”
The shift in conversation was too much for his drugged brain to handle. She could see the pain medication was starting to take effect.
“We can reschedule the meeting for another time,” she offered and led him out to Tony’s car. Her brother had swapped keys with her earlier because he was on duty for another three hours and figured she’d need to drive Royce to the Napa Grand Hotel at some point. Now that she was attempting to get him back to his room safely, she had to admit she appreciated her brother’s thoughtfulness.
Hope ran into Marco DeLuca in the lobby of his hotel. “Hey, Marc. I have a stray puppy here. Think you can have a staff member see he gets to his room okay?”
Royce’s outraged gasp had her biting her lip to avoid giving into her laughter.
“Heartless woman! You’d abandon me in my time of need?”
The lips, so close to her ear, sent a shiver down her spine. Even high on meds, the man was lethal to her system.
“Definitely.”
Marco watched their interaction, deadpan expression in place. What impression was she giving to the good people of her town this afternoon?
“I’m sorry, Hope. I have to admit to being short staffed today.”
The lie was so obvious, Hope couldn’t even get angry. She made a point to count off on her fingers every staff member in a twenty foot radius. “I am going to sic your grandmother on you. You, sir, are a liar!”
A grin and a very Italian shrug was all the concern he gave her threat. “ChiChi would understand. Don’t leave the poor man weaving on his feet, Hope. Take him to bed.”
She sucked in a breath. Marco was the master of innuendos. This one was as subtle as a sledgehammer. She’d known him her whole life, and he’d always been a mischievous devil. More than once, she’d envied his lovely wife, Lexi. Hope had to be the only female resident under the age of thirty, other than his relatives, that hadn’t slept with the gorgeous Marco before he and Lexi hooked up. However, she’d never begrudge them their happiness. Their love was obvious for all to see. Someday, she wanted something so rare and beautiful to call her own.
Royce wasn’t as wasted as Hope believed. Could he be faulted for playing it up a bit in an attempt to get her nurturing side to kick in? He suspected the savvy hotel owner had seen through his ploy and was trying to help a brother out. The slight smirk gave the other man away. Unfortunately, his adorable companion was quick to pick up on it.
For once in his career, Royce intended to break his steadfast rule of not mixing business with pleasure. He had a feeling, running down to the very marrow of his bones, that this lone woman was worth it. Now, if he could only convince her to take a chance and go out with him.
His stomach chose that moment to roar to life. In all the commotion, he’d forgotten to eat lunch. He couldn’t remember a time in his life when he’d gone so long without eating.
Marco anticipated his wishes and informed them room service would bring something to take the edge off, complimentary of the hotel due to their lack of staff and all. He would have high-fived the man if he’d had a spare limb. Hope snorted and tugged him toward the elevator.
“Enjoy your…meal,” Marco called out before the doors connected.
“That man! If he doesn’t have enough staff to help you to your room, how does he have enough for room service?”
“I don’t know, but I like him,” Royce laughed.
“Pfft, you would.”
“Come closer so I can put my arm around you. I need support.”
Based on her next words, she wasn’t buying his helpless routine. “It’s your wrist that’s broken, not your leg. Stop trying to pull mine.”
“In that case, come closer so I can put my arm around you. I want to feel you up.”
Hope pressed her lips tightly together. Because he saw the twinkle before she cast her eyes to the floor, he knew she wasn’t immune.
“I’ve known you all of three hours, Royce. It’s not happening,” she warned, getting behind him to shove him once they reached his floor. “Where’s your room key?”
He felt the pressure of her fingers in his back pocket. He waited for her to search the other before he spoke up.
“You can check the front of my jeans next.”
“Jesus, you’re worse than a dirty old man. The key. Now.”
“Sure you don’t want to hunt for it?”
“Do you want a second broken wrist?”
“Left shirt pocket.”
He allowed her
to usher him into his suite with little fuss. There was always time to make another move. Although her threat to his person should have urged caution, he found it to be a turn on. Let the games begin.
Chapter 3
“Can you help me remove this?” A lift of his right arm had her sympathy. Royce had been right earlier today when he’d believed her to be a marshmallow on the inside.
Hope eyed him with something akin to suspicion before she stepped forward to assist with unbuttoning and removing his shirt. When she would have moved away, he smiled mischievously and gestured to his pants. Her narrowed-eyed look squashed that idea.
“Can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Yes, I can. I—”
The rest of what she would have said was left unfinished due to the knock on his door. She opened it to reveal an irate Ashley.
“Oh! I’m sorry, I didn’t realize you were here with Royce,” she said to Hope. The attempt to be civil was admirable. Ashley wasn’t one to let emotions rule her if it could be helped. Too many years in the public eye had taught her to hold her cards close to her chest. Her eyes caught his injury and she let out an exclamation. “What happened?”
As Ashley came farther into the room, Hope inched her way out the door. If she left now, Royce feared he’d be firmly placed in the business colleague section of her mind. “Hope, wait!”
“I think I should go. Ashley can help you from here on out,” she said, firm in her resolve to leave.
“Have dinner with me tonight.”
He invaded her space, hoping the hours he spent in the gym building up his pecs, triceps, and biceps would pay off. A grin had to be curbed as the move did exactly what he’d wanted. Her eyes went huge and focused on his bare chest while her mouth dropped open in a perfect O.
Ashley walked up beside him, ruining his plan. “We’ve been invited to dinner at the vineyard tonight by Isabella Fiore. She wants to discuss her expectations for the catalog and ads.”
Hope’s wide cocoa eyes found his after a lengthy perusal of his assets. “Guess I’ll see you tonight. While I admit it would be a shame, you are probably going to want to put on a shirt for dinner.”
With that, she winked and swept out the door. Royce was struck dumb watching her sashay down the hall. Damn. The woman was built like a wet dream. Her curves went on for days. Ashley’s chin rested on his shoulder, joining him in observing the retreating Hope. “You don’t want to go there. She’s nice enough, but the whole Fiore family is trouble if you ask me.”
“I didn’t ask you,” he said, ending the discussion before it began.
He waited until the elevator doors shut Hope from view before addressing why Ashley had interrupted. “What has you so upset?”
“Three guesses. First two don’t count.”
She plucked at her shirt sleeve - a clear indication that something had her turned inside out. In all the years he’d known her, she’d remained mostly unruffled except for when it came to Valentino Fiore.
“He wasn’t as thrilled to see you as you’d hoped?” he asked, pulling on a clean shirt.
Her instantaneous rage threw him.
“That asshole! He was the one to call it quits. Him, not me! But do you think he could be civil? No! He told me he wants me to void the contract. Said he’ll still pay me since all I care about is money and fame - his words, not mine. But either way he wants me gone.” Her rant ended in tears. “What’s wrong with wanting a career? With not wanting to stay in a small town, marry and produce a ton of babies like his mother?”
“What do you want to do? I mean, if he still wants to pay out the contract, I have no problem with you walking away.” Lies, all lies. If they left now, he’d miss a golden opportunity to get close to Hope. So yeah, he did have a problem with walking away. A huge one. But Ashley was the talent, and if she wanted to quit, he’d support her decision.
“Fuck him. I’ve never bailed on a commitment yet, and I don’t intend to start now.”
Her fierceness made her more beautiful. One of the many things that made her special. It had been Royce’s lucky day when he discovered her six years ago. He’d signed her on the spot. But he’d also caused the breakup of her long term relationship with Val Fiore. Of course, it had been her decision to move to New York. Yet, he’d been the one instrumental in convincing her she’d be more successful in the Big City, where most of the action happened, instead of St. Helena where nothing but wine did. She’d tried to talk Val into going with her, but he refused to leave his family or the land he loved so much.
Val had gone so far as to throw down the ultimatum of him or New York. Royce could’ve told him those tactics never worked. A handful of his own past girlfriends had tried, and failed, using that method of manipulation.
“It’s not your fault, Ash,” Royce said gently. “He should have been supportive of your career choice. Not petty and jealous.”
Her fire fizzled out. “I never thought he’d be that hateful ex, ya know?”
The question was rhetorical, and he remained quiet. Whatever she was going through, she needed to work it out on her own. Advice was great, but in his experience, women followed their heart. Most times to their own detriment. He wasn’t going to be the fall guy.
Room service arrived, along with his relief at the interruption. Perhaps they could move to a safer subject. He raised the lids and gave an appreciative sniff. Marco DeLuca was the man! Royce shoveled a forkful of pure ambrosia into his mouth and closed his eyes in delight.
“I told Val you were my boyfriend.”
Just like that, the food turned to dust in his mouth.
“Why would you do that? Have you lost your mind?” he asked, stunned by the stupidity of her actions. Ashley was one of the smartest people he’d ever met - until now. He silently kissed burning up the sheets with Hope goodbye. No way would she let him touch her with a ten-foot pole once she heard what Ashley had claimed. She’d think he was a player.
“He… I… He was so arrogant. I wanted to put him in his place. I didn’t know how else to do it,” she explained anxiously. “I’m sorry, Royce.”
“She’ll never go out with me now,” he said, resigned.
“I’m sorry,” she said again.
“It’s okay.” No it wasn’t, but what could he do about it? He shoved a plate in her direction. “Eat something. I’m going to go wash up and try to catch some Zs before the dinner from hell tonight.”
“Do you want me to tell her the truth?” Her big blue eyes, so unhappy and torn, stared up at him. How could he say yes? She was like a kid sister to him after all this time, and he’d do anything for her.
“No, we’re only going to be here a few weeks tops. It doesn’t matter.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
She squealed and threw herself at him, forgetful of his broken wrist. His string of curses left her apologetic. He ushered her through the connecting door to her own suite.
“Go and leave me in peace. And don’t worry about Val. It’s going to be fine.”
***
Famous last words, and all that bullshit. That was the refrain running through Royce’s brain as he sat on the ground, trying to stem the flow of blood from his lip. He’d forgotten Hope packed a hell of a punch.
“Don’t sleep with your models, my ass,” she snarled before stomping away.
As the moisture from the rain soaked ground seeped through his jeans to his briefs, he shook his head. This day was getting better and better. He felt a twitch starting behind his right eyelid.
They’d arrived promptly at seven only to be greeted outside by the Fiore Fiends as he dubbed them. He’d never seen two siblings more enraged. Val had dragged Ashley away to dish on “what a cheating ass she had for a boyfriend,” while Hope confronted and decked him for his earlier “lie.”
Jean clad legs appeared in his line of sight. He followed them up to find another Fiore grinning down at him. Introductions were never made so he was clueless as to who it wa
s. But the large brown eyes and dark wavy hair were a dead giveaway.
“Sure you want to stay for dinner?”
“Wouldn’t miss it. Should I be worried about being poisoned?”
“Not from Hope. Mama on the other hand… She won’t be too happy you’ve made two of her brood upset,” the other man told him, half serious.
“Great.”
“Come on. I have some scrub bottoms you can change into. As muddy as this ground is, I imagine you’re soaked through. I’m Tony by the way.”
“Thanks,” Royce said, curious as to why Hope’s older brother was being so nice. “Should I be worried about Greeks bearing gifts? Or in this case Italians?”
His question startled a laugh out of Tony. “Not this Italian. Although, I wouldn’t accept anything from any of the others if I were you. Oh, and don’t call Mama Mrs. if you can help it. Fiore is her family name. I wouldn’t want you to piss her off more than necessary.”
“Was she never married to your father?”
“Oh no, she was, but she dropped his name when he left and had our names legally changed. But enough of that. Let’s get some ice for that lip. My sister packs a helluva punch, huh?”
A hard pat on the back propelled him forward. Royce wondered what the hell he’d gotten himself into.
Chapter 4
How could she have been so stupid as to fall for his smarmy good looks and patently false charm? Hope glared at Royce where he sat at the other end of the table, eyeing his plate warily. One by one, he studied them all, frowning at a grinning Tony. Looks like Tony hadn’t really graduated from pulling the wings off butterflies after all. His torture didn’t look all that evolved. She smirked. If anyone deserved it, it was that two-timing, scum-sucking…
Hope glanced up sharply when she recalled the last few minutes spent in Royce’s room today. He’d asked her to dinner — right in front of Ashley! That meant either their relationship was open or Ashley had lied to Val. Of the two scenarios, the latter seemed the most logical now that she’d had time to calm down. But why had he not denied it? Why continue on with this farce?
