gone … and Nico was here.
She stood motionless, a little dazed, and glad now for the support of his arm at her waist as her body clamored for more—more of the kiss, more Nico.
Then he released her, stood back and swept a hand toward the entrance. “After you.”
She walked in on unsteady legs, a little in front of him, and though she only looked forward, her whole attention remained riveted on the man behind her, as he’d no doubt intended. The kiss might have been devoid of emotion, but her entire body had reacted to the touch of his lips. Was still reacting, from the warmth rising under her skin, to her aching breasts.
But through her physical reaction, she had the worst feeling regarding the way he’d repeated her words about respecting Kent—he’d taken it as a challenge. What he’d do about it was anyone’s guess, it was hard to know anything with this new Nico—he wasn’t the openhearted, giving and impulsive boy she’d once loved. He’d become a rich, handsome, cold enigma.
One she was still finding difficult to resist, and more so by the hour.
As she stepped through the door to the function room already filled with guests, a huge display caught her eye. A photo of Kent dominated the room, twice as big as life-size. An assortment of flowers sat in baskets at its base, and tributes to his life and achievements lined the wall.
On the other side of the room was the publicity for the new white wine, Trio, a blend of three grape varieties. Arrangements of olive green bottles covered the tables and a banner of the blend’s label was strung across the room.
The strains of modern classical music filled the air and open fires blazed in the six fireplaces built into the walls. The crowd was broken into small clusters of people, their conversations more subdued than at other launches she’d attended, but given the circumstances, she supposed that was to be expected. Nico had joined a group of three men in tuxedos on the other side of the gathering, but she knew he watched her from the corner of his eye. She felt it.
She looked back to the tribute to her late husband. The man who’d made her life a misery.
Noela, Kent’s former secretary, glided across from a group nearby and grasped Beth’s hands, offering a sympathetic smile. “We’re so pleased you could make it tonight, Mrs. Jordan.”
Grateful for the friendly greeting—a greeting without the hidden meaning Nico’s words often took—Beth returned the smile. “Thank you, Noela.”
“We asked Mr. Jordan if he’d like to say a few words about his brother, and he’s kindly agreed. I know you’re probably not up to it, but if you’d like, then you’d be more than welcome to speak, as well.”
Beth’s mouth went dry. “Speak?”
“About your husband.” Noela squeezed her hands. “Only if you want to.”
“Um, no—” Beth swallowed hard “—I don’t think I could.” She was having enough trouble keeping her secrets from Nico without having to convince a whole roomful of people that she was grieving for Kent.
“That’s understandable, I knew it would be too soon. I’ll just go and get everyone together for Mr. Jordan.” After one final squeeze of her hands, Noela slipped away.
Beth’s stomach twisted as she watched Noela pass through the crowd, pointing toward a podium at the front of the room, guiding people across. What would Nico say to these people about a brother who had tormented him his whole life? It was hard to imagine why he’d even agreed to speak—he could only have been thinking of Jordan Wines and keeping up appearances.
Her eyes sought Nico through the people milling about and found him near the podium, talking to Andrew, the acting winemaker. At that moment, Nico looked up, met her gaze and arched an eyebrow. Her pulse stuttered. He was planning something.
Noela took the podium and waited until the mur-murings of the crowd died down. “Thank you all for coming tonight. As you’ll be aware, we’re not only launching our latest wine blend, Trio, but we’re paying tribute to the blend’s creator, Kent Jordan, who passed away recently. Kent’s brother Nico Jordan has flown out from Australia, and has generously offered to share some memories of his brother with us tonight.”
Polite clapping rippled through the crowd as Nico walked the short distance to the podium, his face appropriately somber.
He looked around the crowd, taking them in, nodding as he acknowledged their support. Then he found her, blinked slowly, and held her gaze as he began speaking. “On behalf of Kent’s family, I’m touched that you’ve come here tonight to show your respect for my brother.”
Beth froze. He’d opened his remarks with her phrase about respecting his brother. He was planning something. She folded her arms tightly under her breasts, hoping against hope he would behave decently.
“Losing Kent has been a tragedy to our family,” his deep voice rumbled across the room, “made worse by our father being too sick to travel to the funeral. Since I stayed with him to offer comfort in his grief, I’m glad for the opportunity tonight to say a few words about a brother unlike any other.”
Nico turned, making connections with people in the audience—a consummate public speaker. But she knew he was speaking to her tonight. She dragged in a breath, held it, on edge about what was to come.
“Kent was a formidable force, a man who always achieved his goals, letting nobody and nothing stand in his way. He pursued his beautiful wife with that same sense of purpose, not being deterred until he had his ring on her finger.” His gaze speared hers and she almost swayed on her feet with the shock. She knew he’d planned something, but he’d dared to reference the way she’d left him? Sheer force of will made her stand taller and meet his gaze without flinching. Even though no one else would understand his meaning, it still galled her that he’d be so bold.
Nico continued in the same deceptively solemn tone. “It’s tragic that such a young and strong marriage has been severed.” Eyes from around the room turned to her, and she met some of them, accepting their sympathy, concealing the rising tension in her body.
“In fact,” Nico said, eyes not leaving her, “I don’t feel I can properly pay tribute to my brother without his beautiful wife here with me. Beth, if you wouldn’t mind?” He held out a hand to her and the entire room turned, offering encouraging smiles, propelling her forward.
Her heart raced double-time, her hands were damp, but there was nothing she could do—short of rudeness—to avoid joining Nico at the podium.
She closed her eyes for a long moment, finding the composure she’d need, then the crowd parted for her and she walked to the front of the room. When she reached him, he pulled her close, placing a brotherly arm around her shoulders, but his eyes were full of the devil.
“Nico, please—” she whispered but he turned back to the crowd, some of whom were discreetly wiping away tears at the beauty and the heartbreak of the scene before them.
“The depths of emotion that Kent’s dear wife and I share right now can’t be put into words.” His hand moved from her shoulder to her neck, a kind, comforting move … except for the thumb that moved in sensual circles at the nape of her neck, hidden from the crowd, but sending shivers across her skin.
“Kent’s death was a shock for all his friends and family. And for those of us left behind,
