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“Delilah.” Vincent folds his arms, takes a step back, and looks her up and down. “That can’t be your real name. Right?” He grins at me, the knowing little shit. “It’s not, is it?”
When her mouth falls open, I hold up a hand to silence her. “Don’t bother answering that. He’s trying to get a rise out of you, is all. It’s what he’s best at.”
“Untrue,” he counters with a wide smile. He’s tanner than I’ve ever seen him, making his teeth look whiter than ever. “I’m good at a lot of things. Maybe we can discuss them.”
“No, thank you,” she growls, and I have to bite back a laugh at the way his eyebrows rise over those ridiculous sunglasses he’s wearing inside the house.
“Don’t tell me you finally decided to settle down.” He shoots me a knowing grin. “Is it easier to keep your latest squeeze living here? At least this one is a step up from some of the losers you’ve wasted time on before.”
“Do you ever stop talking?” I growl.
He pouts in response. “That’s how you greet me after a year?”
“Excuse me.” Delilah holds up a hand like she’s in school, waiting for the teacher to call on her. “Do I have to be here for this? Honestly, I was only looking around.”
“Go to your room, please.” For once, she doesn’t argue with me. Probably glad to get out of here. I wait until she’s long gone before closing the door, leaving me and my brother face to face for the first time in a year.
“So who is she, really?” He puffs out his chest and lowers his voice in what I imagine is meant to be an imitation of me. “Go to your room.”
“It’s none of your business.”
“She’s fucking gorgeous, brother.” He whistles before pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead. “I mean, I’ve been with my share of Italian beauties lately, but she makes them look like old crones.”
I wish I knew why there’s a tightness in my chest all of a sudden. I don’t like him talking about her for any reason, even complimentary. “Let’s change the subject.”
“Ah, so she’s important, huh? That’s why you don’t want me talking about her.”
“She’s not important,” I snap. “That’s what you care about after showing up unannounced? A cute piece of ass?”
“Sorry. I would give you a big hug and go on about how much I’ve missed you, but I didn’t think you would appreciate it.” He extends his arms, smirking as he walks my way. “Unless you’ve suddenly become the touchy-feely type. In which case, let’s do this.”
“Fuck off.” I give him a shove, but it’s nowhere near as hard as it could be. Certainly nowhere near as hard as he deserves. “Since when do you re-enter the country without so much as giving me a heads up?”
He drops the joking act, removing his sunglasses and looking me in the eye. “Since I didn’t think it would be wise to announce my return. Not after what I’ve been hearing. Why do you think I came back?”
“What do you mean, what you’ve been hearing? What did you hear all the way out there?”
“You think I was completely out of the loop in Italy?” He hooks the sunglasses around the neck of his polo shirt while heading for the bar. “I’ve had a finger on the pulse of the family business, trust me. And Bernardi is gathering his allies again.”
His casual announcement makes the hair on the back of my neck stand up. “And you know this for certain? He’s coming for us?”
That makes him pause in the middle of pouring his drink, but not for long. “Granted, I didn’t hear our name, specifically. Only that there’s been a lot more chatter lately.”
“And rather than get on the phone and discuss it with me, you got on a plane.”
“I missed home.” He grins my way before dropping the stopper in the whiskey bottle. “I missed your ugly face.”
Forget the fact that we’ve been mistaken for twins more times than I care to recall. All he needs is to look in the mirror and he’ll see my face. “Bullshit. Did somebody run you out of the country?”
His pinched expression tells me I might have wounded him, but he moves on quickly. “Why is it so hard for you to believe I’d want to come home and help?”
It’s a good thing Jock comes in when he does, or else I might have to say exactly what’s on my mind. Something tells me my brother wouldn’t want to hear it. Jock stops short at the sight of him, and for once he can’t conceal his surprise. “When did you get in?”
“Barely an hour ago. Don’t worry,” Vincent assures me. “I wasn’t tracked or traced or anything like that. I kept it as quiet as possible and used one of my fake passports.”
“You should have told me in advance. We could have made sure you slipped in unnoticed.”
“And I’m telling you, I already did. There’s nothing to worry about.”
