He shrugs. “I respect the skill. Doesn’t mean I won’t destroy them when I find them.”
“You need help?”
“No.” His lips quirk into a half-smirk. “I’ve got this. Go be with your wife.”
I look at him for a long minute. Wolfe is the guy who sees everything, misses nothing, and carries more than he lets anyone know, mainly because none of us would understand the kind of things that keep him up at night. Cillian walks over to us with a beer in his hand. He doesn’t say anything, just leans back against the railing. Wolfe’s shoulders relax slightly.
Those two have always understood each other in ways the rest of us don’t.
“You’ll tell me if it’s serious?” I ask.
Wolfe nods. “When I know more.”
I clap him on the back and head back to my wife where she stands with her parents.
“May I?” I ask, holding out a hand to Adriana. Maria and Francesco exchange a smile and nod.
I spin her around once, pulling her close. I breathe in her floral scent and nuzzle her ear. “Hungry for dessert?”
“Always,” she says in a husky voice. “But there are too many people around. And I’m not really into the whole voyeurism thing.”
I chuckle. “Okay, noted. The lady wants to enjoy her dessertwithout an audience present.” My eyes scan the space, falling on Cillian and Luna at the bar. “Uh-oh,” I say, twirling Adriana so she has a clear view. “What’s happening over there?”
Cillian flashes his easy smile at her and hands her a flute of champagne. Luna looks at the glass, then at him, then back at the glass like he’s just handed her a dead fish.
She says something. Cillian’s smile falters.
Then she turns and walks away without taking the drink, leaving my brother standing there holding two glasses like the rug was just pulled out from under him.
He’s not used to that kind of reaction from women. They normally melt at his feet. All it takes is a look and they’re pretty much ready to fall to their knees.
But not Luna DiMicheli. He watches her walk away, but his expression isn’t one of disappointment or shock.
It’s interest. He grins like she’s a challenge he needs to win. Then he guzzles the champagne down and orders another.
“Wow,” Adriana says. “What was that all about?”
“I don’t know. I’ll talk to him later,” I say, dipping my head. I trail my lips down the side of her neck.
She gives me a little push. “Talk to him now. I feel bad that he’s standing there all by himself after that rejection.”
I plant a kiss on her lips. “Okay, but don’t go too far.” I walk over to where my brother stands at the bar. “What the hell were you thinking, C? That was never gonna go anywhere.”
“Damn,” he says, shaking his head as he stares at her across the terrace. “She’s... intense.”
“She’s Adriana’s sister. Which makes her off-limits. Forever.”
Cillian takes a gulp of his drink. “She told me she’d rather lick the bottom of her shoe after stepping in dog shit than take a drink from me.”
“Sounds like she’s still pissed, and you’re unfortunately guilty by association. Just stay away from her.”
“I’m not doing anything.” He finally looks back at me. “I’m just saying. She’s not what I expected.”
“Leave it at that and move on.”
“I probably will.” He finishes the drink and gives me a wink. “Good luck with your honeymoon, brother.”
He walks away before I can say anything else. I watch him go, shaking my head.
