Kiss the Bride (12 page)

She could guess the answer to the last question. The blackmailer must have seen her picture with Delaney in the recent
Society Bride
article on society weddings. Why, oh, why had she allowed herself to be photographed for a national magazine?

Her stomach roiled again and she closed her eyes, fighting back the nausea. So much time had passed, she’d foolishly thought she was safe.

Idiot. You can never, ever let down your guard. There’s no room for mistakes. Not now, not ever.

Not with the secret she harbored.

But here was this letter, threatening to ruin the life she’d built. Threatening to destroy not only her marriage, but her daughter’s chance at happiness. Honey simply could not allow that to happen.

She would meet with the blackmailer and she would pay.

What other choice did she have?

The following day, Delaney took Tish with her to video Lucia’s house.

Luckily, Tish had been able to rearrange her schedule so she could film the “before” video of the house so Delaney
and Lucia’s family could get started on the renovations as quickly as possible. Time was of the essence, both for Lucia’s financial situation and for entry in the
American Home Design
contest. They had four weeks to get the house renovated and decorated before the July 9 deadline.

When they arrived at Lucia’s house, Delaney was surprised to find so many cars in the driveway. She parked along the curb behind Nick’s red pickup truck, and her stomach did a loopy little swoon.

She spun her engagement ring on her finger.
Remember what you swore to yourself last night? Get over your attraction to the guy. You’re taken.

“This house totally rocks,” Tish exclaimed. “I can see why you’re so excited. It’s got such great potential.”

“I know,” Delaney breathed.

Tish collected her equipment while Delaney gathered up the briefcase chock-full of plans, computer printouts, and sketches she’d prepared after she’d returned home the night before. Tish filmed everything as they went up the walkway. The tiled roof, the palm trees, the pink flamingos on the lawn.

Delaney rang the doorbell and a gorgeous black-haired woman in her late twenties, with coltishly long legs, answered the door. She looked a lot like Nick, possessing the same intelligent brown eyes and long, thick, dark lashes.

“Hi,” she said, greeting them. “You must be Delaney. I’m Gina, Nick’s baby sister; come on in. Most everyone is in the kitchen waiting for you to film the house before we start packing up Nana’s things.”

“Packing?” Delaney asked.

“Nana’s moving over to Trudie’s while the renovations are going on. She put a retainer down on the condo this
morning, and Nick’s taking her to apply for a bank loan tomorrow afternoon. With any luck, you guys will be finished renovating this house before she has to close on the condo.”

Feeling concerned that Gina had unrealistic expectations about what she could achieve, Delaney touched the other woman’s arm. “You do understand that the house might not sell immediately.”

“Don’t be modest. Nana and Trudie swear you’re a miracle worker. Our family has complete faith in you.”

Did that include Nick? she wondered. Yesterday, he hadn’t struck her as being very trusting.

“That’s more than you can say about your own mother,” Tish whispered to Delaney as they followed Gina into the kitchen.

They found the place pleasantly chaotic with a dozen people all talking, teasing, and laughing at once.

“This is Delaney, everyone,” Gina introduced her.

They all applauded.

Delaney blushed.

Gina introduced her to everyone. Cousins and siblings, aunts and uncles, plus Gina’s own identical twin seven-year-old boys, Zack and Jack.

There were too many Vinettis for Delaney to keep straight. But she was happy to meet Nick’s dad. Vincent Vinetti was a big bear of a man who owned his own shrimp boat and was still handsome in middle age. He clapped her on the shoulder. “We appreciate so much what you’re doing for my mother.”

Some of the relatives hugged her. Some shook her hand. They all told her how much they valued her help. Oddly, she felt more welcome in this roomful of strangers than she did in her own home.

That wasn’t fair. By nature her family just weren’t huggers and touchers. They didn’t get together in big groups, although her father’s brothers and their children lived in the Houston area. She should not compare the phlegmatic Cartwrights to the lively Vinettis. It was apples and persimmons.

Delaney introduced Tish, and she also received a rousing welcome.

“Jeez.” Tish pulled Delaney aside. “You didn’t tell me you’d formed your own fan club.”

“What can I say? They’re an affectionate group.”

“Apparently. Can you keep the fan club entertained while I start filming the house unencumbered by onlookers?” Tish asked.

“I’ll handle it.”

With her camera rolling, Tish disappeared back the way they’d come in.

“Where’s Nick?” Delaney found herself asking Gina, then cringed inwardly. Why had she asked about him?

“He went with my husband, Chuck, to rent a moving van.”

Well, that was a relief. She had a little extra time to compose herself before she saw Nick again.

Delaney’s eyes found Lucia’s in the crowded room and she held up her briefcase. “I’ve got the renovation plans with me to show everyone.”

“Tony, get up, please,” Lucia instructed the lanky young man in his late teens sitting to her right. “Let Delaney sit here.”

Tony popped up and Lucia patted the chair beside her. “Sit, sit.”

“Would you like something to drink?” Gina asked Delaney as she settled in next to Lucia.

“A cannoli?” someone else offered.

Delaney smiled and nodded. Who wouldn’t be happy around this bunch?

“Coffee, tea, soda, water?” Gina offered.

“Whatever you’ve got on hand will be fine.”

“We’ve got it all on hand.”

“Coffee would be nice, and one of those cannoli does sound delicious.”

“They’re to die for,” Gina said. “Nana baked them fresh this morning.”

Delaney tried to remember the last time her mother had baked anything from scratch and came up with that disloyal feeling again. To distract herself, she took the plans from her briefcase and spread them on the table.

Everyone crowded around for a look. It was a bit disconcerting to have a dozen pairs of eyes peering over her shoulder. But as she explained what needed to be done to the property in order to achieve top dollar, everyone seemed to approve of her plans. Consensus by committee, just the way she liked doing things. Heartened by the unanimous acceptance, she looked up to see tears shining in Lucia’s eyes.

Anxiety had her fingering the papers. “Oh, my goodness, there’s something you don’t like. Please, if you don’t agree with my proposal, tell me and I’ll change it.”

Lucia shook her head, pulled a handkerchief from her pocket, and dabbed at her eyes. “Your proposal is wonderful. That’s not why I’m crying.”

“The reality of leaving your home is finally hitting you.”

“Yes.” Lucia pressed her lips together in an attempt to stay the tears from spilling down her cheeks. “Leo and I had such wonderful memories here. I can’t believe it’s over.”

“Are you sure selling the house is really what you want to do?” Delaney had to ask.

Lucia nodded. “I have to let go in order to move on. It’s the right thing to do.”

Delaney looked into the older woman’s eyes and knew Lucia needed to talk about Leo. Her family surrounded her, yes, and she could talk to them, but they knew all her stories. Lucia needed a fresh audience.

“Tell me about your husband.” Delaney placed her hand on top of the older woman’s.

Soon Lucia was regaling her with stories of her life in this house with her husband, Leo. The children they’d raised, the hard times they’d endured, the fun they’d had, the love that had grown deeper and richer with each passing year.

“How did Leo propose to you?” Delaney asked.

A smile flitted across her face. “He didn’t.”

“You proposed to him?”

Lucia looked scandalized. “No, no. I was a demure girl. I would never have done something so bold.”

“So how did you two ever get together?”

There was that knowing smile again. “He kidnapped me from the chapel on my wedding day.”

“What?!” Now it was Delaney’s turn to look scandalized. “You married your kidnapper?”

Lucia giggled. “It was very romantic. I was engaged to marry the man of my parents’ choosing. They were very old-fashioned. Frank’s family had money, and my father had a struggling business.”

“Your parents were basically selling you to Frank?”

“It sounds so bad when you put it like that,” Lucia said, “and I’m certain that’s not the way they intended it. They just wanted to make sure I would be taken care of.”

“Did you love Frank?” ’

“I tried,” Lucia said. “And then, a week before the wedding I met Leo at a party, and I just knew he was the one for me. But he was a penniless student who came from a poor family, and my parents would not hear of me marrying him. Leo knew what my papa was like. That he would never give him my hand in marriage. I felt so much family pressure to marry Frank. I’d known him since I was a child. We’d grown up in the same small village together, and I was not a young woman who voiced her own opinions. I’d been taught to be a dutiful daughter.”

Dutiful.

That was exactly how she felt. Dutiful and damned. Delaney fingered her engagement ring and thought of Evan. He was off in Guatemala helping people, and she was here having serious doubts about their relationship.

“Leo knew there was only one way he could have me. So he kidnapped me from the chapel on my wedding day. We took jobs on a cruise ship to get to America, and the captain married us at sea.”

One of Lucia’s daughters started singing “That’s Amore,” and soon everyone joined in. Singing and crying and laughing.

Including Lucia.

“Come on, Delaney,” Lucia invited. “Sing with us.”

To her knowledge, no one in her family had ever broken into impromptu song, much less the whole bunch of them singing in unison. She liked it, even though it felt like she had a walk-on part in
Moonstruck.
She half expected Nicolas Cage to saunter through the doorway at any minute.

Instead, it was Nick Vinetti who came traipsing through the back door.

“People, people,” he said. “ ‘That’s Amore’? You must be talking about the time Grampa kidnapped Nana. Knock it off. Eighty percent of you are off key. Face facts, you guys ain’t the Von Trapps.”

And then he spied Delaney. He stopped talking and stabbed her with his gaze.

Wham!

She felt it deep inside her. The forbidden pull. The taboo attraction. It made him all the more desirable.

“That certainly is a beautiful engagement ring that you’re wearing,” Gina said. “So tell us, Delaney, about the man you’re going to marry.”

“Yeah,” Nick said, still holding her gaze. “Tell us. Everyone likes the story of a good romance.” His tone was sardonic. The look in his eyes inscrutable.

“I… I… think we should go over the renovation plans. Map out the tasks in phases. The sooner we get to work, the sooner we sell the house and the sooner Lucia gets the money for her condo,” Delaney said.

Lucia got up from her chair. “Here, Nick, take my seat. You’re going to be the one doing most of the work. See what Delaney has come up with.”

Before she could protest—and how could she?—Nick plunked down beside her.

She reached for the papers, eager to have something to occupy her hands and purposefully ignored the nutmegy scent of his cologne. Clearing her throat, she launched into a thorough explanation of what she felt needed to be done to achieve the highest selling price for the house and the estimated cost of materials if the Vinettis provided all the manpower.

Nick took the papers from her and studied the list for a long time. It wasn’t going to be as easy to persuade him as
the rest of the family. “Why should we strip off the wallpaper and paint all the walls white?”

“Wallpaper dates a place. It’s a fact of the real estate business, plain white walls sell better.”

“But plain white walls have no zip. Nothing to make it special,” he said. “No magic.”

“That’s precisely the point. The more people who can imagine themselves living here, the quicker the house will sell. We could do an off-white if you prefer. Ecru. French Vanilla. Eggshell.”

He leaned forward. “Let me guess. The walls in your house are all stark white.”

She took offense at the way he said it. Like he was criticizing her for having no personality. She raised her head to scowl at him, but got distracted by his face. His hair was wind-tossed, his jaw strong and stubborn, his eyes dark and challenging. “As a matter of fact they are. Do you have a problem with that?”

“Noncommittal.”

“Excuse me?”