Tallulah Speed (Tallulah Cove Book 5)
Page 5
Unfortunately, although it had only been a short time, he had a feeling he had already started down that road.
Now he was the one careening around corners, barreling toward disaster, in a fast car with no brakes.
CHAPTER SIX
The Family You Make
FOR AS LONG AS VALENTINA could remember, there had been a tradition in her house: The last Friday of the month they had family dinner. Not just her and her dad, but everyone who worked for her father on the property and their families.
Over the years, Miss Camille had used those nights to teach Valentina how to cook, always telling her, “One day, you’ll have a man and children of your own, and nothing will give you greater satisfaction than filling their bellies.”
The man and children hadn’t come and seemed to be nowhere in sight. She had no clue how she would even fit that in with all of her other obligations, but on those Fridays, Valentina donned a blonde wig, large sunglasses, and subdued makeup to protect her privacy and rode into Mariana, a little town just east of Tallulah Cove and the last village before the climb into the mountains that served as a looming backdrop. Being just a bit farther from the Pacific Coast Highway, Mariana had less tourists, and a fair amount of the real estate served as vacation homes which meant once winter rolled around, the town slowed down to just die-hard locals. But during the season, she could visit the local farmers markets in the area and pick up the ingredients for elaborate dishes to fill the bellies of her chosen family without as much risk of getting discovered…and she could check on a little business while she was there.
That Friday, she picked up short ribs, pancetta, Brussels sprouts, a variety of root vegetables, spinach, tomatoes, several cheeses, crusty artisan bread, and the ingredients for decadent triple-layer chocolate cake for dessert.
Her security team, Mike and Sol, gave her a ride into town in their black Lincoln. It really wasn’t much different than having a limo or a car service, that is, until she walked around and had two shadows keeping pace with her.
That grated.
After her last food purchase, she handed off her bags to them. “If you boys could take these to the car for me, I would be grateful.”
Mike, the meatier of the two, shook his head. “We’re not leaving you.”
She blew out a breath in frustration. “Look, I only have one more stop into Giordano Winery. I own the damn place. I’m pretty sure you don’t need to protect me from my own employees in a public winery.”
They looked at each other, and Sol nodded. “We’re running these to the car, and we’ll be right back. Straight to the winery and stay put.”
She put a hand on her cocked hip. “You know I’m the one paying you, right?”
“Yup, and we’re doing exactly what you contracted us to do. Whether you like it or not,” Mike said.
Damn. “Fine. I’ll be right over there.” She pointed to Giordano’s tasting room. “I won’t be long.”
They nodded and watched her as she crossed the street. It wasn’t until she ducked into the doorway and glanced back out that they finally turned and headed to the car, their arms laden with bags.
The winery stood tucked in a line of buildings along the north side of Sierra Avenue. Dark wood floors gleamed. Exposed wood beams and top shelves with used wine barrels lined along the side walls added rustic charm to the small, yet luxurious tasting room. She’d clearly hired the right man to turn the vineyard and tasting room into a success.
“Val!”
“Luciano!” She wrapped her childhood pal, Camille’s son, the closest thing she had to a brother, in her arms and squeezed tight. “Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in three weeks.”
“I’ve been around, just busy preparing for our new varieties coming in soon.” She smoothed his charcoal hair away from his tan face. He’d been a rare sight in the past six years while attending school. Home now with his brand-new BA in business and MA in marketing, Luciano dove right in with the family business. Those dark eyes…they would be the demise of some beautiful lady one day.
“You look wonderful. So dapper.” She ran her hands over his silk dress shirt, like a mother hen, smoothing away wrinkles.
“So, what’s going on up at the house? I drove past the other day, and the gate was closed.”
She didn’t like where her mind went when she heard the words. He hadn’t told her he was dropping by. He always told her, even if his intention was to see his mother.
She hated that she let paranoia get to her.
No. She refused to believe it. Not him. Never him.
She kept her gaze on his shirt and picked a piece of imaginary lint off of his shoulder. Her lips were to be sealed, but surely a man who had grown up alongside her as a brother… “A series of unfortunate accidents with my cars. Probably nothing, but just in case, I’m locking the place up more.”
“Accident? Mom told me you blew a tire and had an engine fire.”
“Yes, well, you know, the cars have been sitting around for some time, and I like to drive them. I should have had George go over them before I started taking them out. You know when cars sit around, things go wrong.”
He gave her that narrow-eyed stare of his. He was four years younger, but as protective as any big brother. “So why didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “Can’t get in touch with him.”
He tilted his head. “That’s strange. Did you check with my mother?”
“No, why?”
He rubbed his chin with his thumb and forefinger. “Well, I caught them, you know.”
She gasped. “What? No way.”
“Yeah.”
“Wait, what were they…”
He held his hands up in surrender and winced. “Not going there. You can’t make me.”
“Next thing you’ll be pushing your fingertips in your ears, singing, ‘Lalalalalalalala.’”
“I’m not above doing that. My mother is sexless. Under those clothes, she’s not anatomically correct, like a Barbie doll. Hell, she might even have ‘Mattel’ stamped on her butt.”
Valentina laughed until tears ran down her cheeks. That was when Mike and Sol came in. When they saw her, they rushed to her side.
“What happened?” Mike asked, grabbing her arm.
“Let go of me. I was just laughing! God! Lighten up.”
Luciano glared at the men and stepped up to Mike, almost toe to toe, ready to do battle. “What the hell is going on? And who the hell are they?”
Valentina slid an arm between them and pushed them apart…well, as far as they would let her push them. “Protection.”
“Why do you need protection? What the hell is going on?”
“It’s nothing major. Seriously, as soon as I can tell you, I will. Look, are you coming to dinner tonight?”
He planted his feet and crossed his arms. “I don’t like this, Val.”
She clasped his elbow and kissed him on the cheek to soften him up. “I know. I’m sorry. Just come to dinner. There’s someone I want you to meet.”
“Don’t think you’re going to distract me by setting me up with a woman.”
“You can’t have him; he’s mine,” she said.
“A guy?”
She laughed. “That would be the he, yes.”
“Who?”
She winked. “My new mechanic.”
“Oh, I’m so going to dinner now.”
Relieved that he dropped the inquiry, she smiled as if her world hadn’t been turned upside down. “Good. Come on, boys. I have cooking to do.”
Relaxed and excited to feed the people she loved, Valentina stood at the island, barefoot, in white jeans and an ivory sweater that fell off her shoulder. She suffered through wearing an apron for the first steps. She seasoned and braised the short ribs, then put them in the oven to cook, slow and low. She cleaned, peeled, and chopped the parsnips, carrots, and potatoes then drizzled them with avocado oil and sprinkled them with a variety of seasonings to roast.
She pop
Voices drifted in from the entryway, and before long everyone was there, her gardening crew: Harvey, Ken, Brian, and Tara. Her housekeepers: Sally, Laura, and Amy. Camille was there, talking Luciano’s ear off about some cringe-worthy subject if his pained expression was any indication.
Even her bodyguards were there, without their intimidating suits, thank God. They stood around the kitchen and moved through to the sunroom while nibbling, drinking, and filling her house with happy laughter.
Dante and Jeremy stayed off to the side. Jeremy held a long-neck beer bottle in his hands while Dante sipped wine. They both scanned the crowd with shrewd eyes. They made a funny-looking pair, heads together like best friends. Dante looked like he’d stepped off the cover of GQ. Jeremy, the cover of an L.L. Bean catalog. Both hot, but in such different ways.
Well, enough of that shit.
She joined them with a glass of wine of her own. “You guys couldn’t be any more obvious if you stood here and declared it was Mrs. White, in the library, with the damn rope. Relax. I’m telling you, these people would not hurt me.”
Dante shook his head and downed the rest of his wine. “I’m not so sure…the P.I. found something.”
Valentina stiffened, not ready to hear it but needing to all the same. “What?”
“Someone called to find out how long they have to contest your father’s estate after the reading of his will.”
Valentina’s jaw dropped. A cold chill moved through her as the blood rushed through her veins, making her skin flush. “Who?”
“They don’t know. The assistant who took the call didn’t ask the caller’s name. Whoever it was knew the date that the will was read. That narrows things down but not among the people in this room,” Dante said with a frown.
“How long did they say someone has to contest the will?” Jeremy said.
“Until the end of the business day next Wednesday,” Dante said.
Valentina scanned the crew. Harvey had pulled out his half-dollar and cruised the room, pretending to pull it out from behind the ears of all the girls. Tara and Brian stood off in the corner, locked in some debate that had them comparing pictures they pulled up on their cell phones. Camille continued to freshen the platters because she had a hard time relinquishing control of the kitchen.
Mike and Sol had cleared a space on the island and stood bent over, their hands locked as they arm-wrestled. She kept her focus on them, the noise fading to a dull hum in the background. They weren’t really arm-wrestling. They sure as hell were making it look like it, but their focus lay with the people in the room.
Because despite the festivities around them, they hadn’t forgotten for a minute that someone wanted her dead.
It would do her good to keep that in the forefront of her mind.
Their seriousness just drove home the knowledge that her home, her family, it had all changed. Someone threatened her life, and in the meantime, their actions stole her family, her friends, and her foundation.
Tears welled up in her eyes. Nothing felt right anymore. She didn’t have a safe place. She didn’t have a family. The only person she was sure of was Jeremy. If she suspected everyone else, Dante had to be part of that.
She would swear her heart cracked and split clean in two.
“Valentina,” Jeremy said, reaching for her.
She pulled her arm away. If he touched her, if he was nice to her, she’d lose it right there in front of everyone. She couldn’t. She wouldn’t. She took a deep breath and let it out. “I’m fine, just give me a minute.”
Dante and Jeremy exchanged a look.
“Cut that crap out. That silent communication bonding shit you all developed after five damn minutes together pisses me off. I’ll be upset later, but right now, I have dinner to serve.” She tossed back the rest of her wine, wiped her eyes, blinked several times, plastered on a smile that would make June Cleaver proud, and served her dinner.
She stood leaning against the granite counter and pretended to taste her food. She smiled, she nodded; she laughed in all the right places while she died inside.
Luciano joined her, nudging her with his elbow. “You look like someone kicked your puppy. I know something’s up, but I won’t press it. In the meantime, can you at least introduce me to the mountain man over there so I can determine for myself if he’s good enough for you?”
“Sure. And Luciano?”
He met her gaze.
“The minute I can say something, you’re the first to know. Okay?”
“Good enough for now.”
Valentina didn’t have to do much to get Jeremy’s attention. His eyes had been on her all night. She nodded at him, and he broke away from Ken and Harvey to join her.
“Jeremy, this is Luciano. Camille’s son…we grew up together.”
Jeremy smiled, but she didn’t miss that alertness in his stance. She could practically see the wheels turning in his head. “Nice to meet you, Luciano,” he said, offering his hand.
“You, too. Val told me… well, actually, very little.” Luciano laughed, shaking Jeremy’s hand.
“Well, it’s not all that intriguing. She needed a car guy; I’m a car guy, so here I am.”
“And the way you watch her, is that part of your services?”
“Hey!” Valentina snapped.
Jeremy wrapped his arm around her. “It’s okay, he’s protecting you. I would be disappointed if he didn’t.” Jeremy gave his attention back to Luciano. “She’s a beautiful woman. Nothing wrong with admiring that beauty, as it would be a shame to let it go to waste.”
“Hmmm, not sure how I feel about that answer.”
“Well, how’s this one? She’s brilliant. She’s hardworking. She’s loved, and she didn’t come by that by being your typical supermodel. She earned it with her smarts, her kindness, her loving nature, and her unwavering strength. Looks fade, and when they do, she’s still going to be the most beautiful creature I’ve had the honor of knowing.”
Valentina’s mouth went dry. No one had ever said anything like that about her. God, what was she supposed to do with all of that?
This was all temporary. One day he’d go back to his life and she to hers, but damn it, she wanted to hold on to the one man who made her feel like he could love her for everything beyond her beauty.
CHAPTER SEVEN
The Fire
VALENTINA ROLLED OVER AND glanced at the clock for what had to be the tenth time since she had crawled into bed forty-five minutes earlier. She’d relax, start to feel her mind drift, and then bam…her eyes defied her and popped open to read the glowing red numbers.
She threw back her covers and jumped out of bed, circling her room, padding back and forth. She had wasted a brief time on the sadness of knowing someone she loved and trusted wanted to hurt her, but by the time everyone had gone home for the night and she’d shut off the lights in the spotless kitchen, that sadness had turned to white-hot anger.
So, out of the people surrounding her, who the hell was it? She had to look closer; out of all the unlikely people, who was more likely than the others?
Jesus, that question didn’t even make sense.
She paced the length of the room at the foot of her bed. She got to the end of the room, spun on her bare foot, and marched back to the other side. She did this over and over until a sheen of sweat had formed on her skin, and she stood there seething.
Dante?
No, damn it!
Camille?
Get real.
Luciano?
Her breath hitched.
Her mind didn’t dismiss him so easily. Why didn’t she dismiss him so easily?
He was practically her brother. He loved her, she loved him. He protected her. Look at the way he reacted to the hired security protecting her. He hardened, became aggressive and questioning.
He’d also given up rather quickly on demanding she confide in him what was going on, too.
“No,” she whispered.
Her door opened, and Jeremy pushed inside. “What’s wrong?”
The door clicked shut behind him, and he strode to her, his chest bare, those faded blue jeans he favored undone and hanging on his hips, by what she didn’t know. Just one shake and they would drop to his ankles.
Tripping on the edge of her carpet would do it.
Of course, he didn’t trip.
More’s the pity.
“I was just thinking about Luciano. My mind didn’t dismiss him as easily as the others.” She turned away from him. She hated the way her voice wavered. She swallowed hard, emotion thick in her throat as tears threatened.
“That’s good.”
She closed her eyes. A tear fell down her cheek. “Good? God, how can you say that? He’s family.”
“They all are, and one of them wants you gone. Don’t forget that.”
She whirled on him. “You really think I can? I wish I could forget. Even if for just a few minutes, damn it, I just want to forget.”
He met her, toe to toe. Sliding his rough, warm hands along the sides of her neck, he searched her face. Even barefoot, he stood taller than her. Not a lot, but enough. Odd, her face, her body had been plastered all over the world in various stages of undress, but this strong, rough and tumble man standing over her made her feel like a woman in a way no photo and no other man had.
Gliding his thumbs under her jaw, tilting her tear-stained face, he pressed his lips to trail the tears that flowed down her cheeks. He pulled away, his lips damp, the sight so intimate, so telling of him as a man, as a protector, that her heart gave way to the feelings she kept trying to deny.
She wanted to make a square peg fit in a round hole.
“I can make you forget, Valentina. Is that what you want?” The words, his deep, grating voice, they conspired to elicit shivers. His lips dragged over her jaw, sending tingles through her skin, waking her body up.
Just like that, with such a simple gesture, her skin became hyper-aware of every sensation. The way her tank top moved with her, dragging over her tight nipples, the heat and dampness settling between her thighs. The way her bikini underwear had shifted, riding high on her cheeks, leaving her skin exposed to the cool air, his gaze, and—oh God, yes, the hand he just rested there.
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