Susan Mallery - The Marcelli Bride

Darcy turned to look at the SUV in front of theirs. To the casual observer, their little convoy was nothing more than three vehicles on the same road. No one else would know there were a total of seven agents and one relative of the president leaving the navy base that morning.

“Where’s Lauren going?” she asked.

Alex glanced at her. His dark blue eyes never wavered. “I’m not at liberty to say.”

“Because I’m a security risk?”

“Because the fewer people who know, the better. You don’t want anything happening to your sister.”

He made it a statement rather than a question, but it was still true.

Darcy leaned back in the leather seat and wondered what would happen now. How long would she be kept isolated for her own good, and when could she get back to her regular life, such as it was? She’d already called and canceled her interview in New York. There was no way she could make it, and she wasn’t allowed to explain the reason why. Normal was something the rest of the world took for granted. What she wouldn’t give to be one of them, even for a little while.

Alex glanced at her. “Have you slept since the kidnapping?”

“Of course,” she lied, not wanting to talk to him about it. Alex Vanmeter might be exactly the right person to keep her safe, but he wasn’t the warm and friendly type. Besides, she didn’t generally confide in people she’d just met. With enough concealer and the right light, she could keep her lack of sleep a secret until she was able to close her eyes without feeling the fear.

The lead SUV signaled a turn. Darcy glanced out the window and realized they were leaving the freeway and heading into what looked like a very picturesque part of Tuscany.

“They grow grapes here?” she asked as she stared at acres and acres of vineyards.

“Yes. The Marcelli family has owned this land over eighty years. Four generations of winemakers.”

“Marcelli.” The name was vaguely familiar. “As in Marcelli Wines?”

He nodded.

“This is where I’ll be staying?” she asked.

“Yes. The family was pleased to cooperate. You should be safe here.”

Darcy looked at the heavy, lush grapevines, the tall trees lining the road, and the vineyard sparkling in the distance.

“Not bad duty,” she said, picturing an old-style bed-and-breakfast with a view of the ocean. No doubt she and her Secret Service team would take over a wing of the building. There wouldn’t be much to do, but she could catch up on her reading. Lying low had never looked so good.

Fifteen minutes later they turned off the road and onto a long driveway. Darcy didn’t see any signs for a hotel or a bed-and-breakfast. Instead she saw what looked like a large, pale yellow, three-story house decorated with wrought iron balconies. There were several outbuildings, plenty of trees, and a colorful garden complete with a path and small benches.

“What’s with the house?” she asked as the SUV pulled to a stop.

“The Marcelli family has lived here since it was built in the late twenties,” Alex said.

They must own the B and B, too. Made sense.

Alex stepped out of the SUV and waited for her to do the same. Darcy climbed out and looked around. The air was still and warm, scented with fruit. Make that grapes, she thought as the back door opened and several people hurried down the stairs to the driveway.

There was an older couple, a not so old couple, an amazingly good-looking guy, some Secret Service agents-easily recognizable by the sunglasses and the dark suits-and Special Agent Paige Newberry.

“Paige,” Darcy said, grateful to see at least one familiar face. “At least one person here knows what she’s doing.”

“Hi, Darcy.” Paige stepped forward and smiled. “How was your trip?”

“Good. Long.”

Darcy was conscious of everyone watching her. She smoothed the front of her casual black and white sundress. Aware that first impressions mattered, she’d dressed carefully, using makeup, putting on sandals, and digging out another of her bargain handbags that matched.

She knew her sister would have had something disarming to say, and that in a matter of minutes the entire cast of the Make Room for Lauren ensemble would have been delighted to be a part of her life. Darcy hadn’t received the gift of small talk. Still, she would play the professional political family member, even if she wasn’t that good at it.

“Good morning,” she said, telling herself to smile to cover her nervousness as she spoke. “I’m Darcy Jensen.”

“Of course you are,” the older man said as he thumped his cane on the ground. “This is all a bunch of nonsense if you ask me. She’s here. We’re here. Now let’s get inside before someone gets sunstroke.”

“Lorenzo!” The elderly woman at his side scolded him. “She’s the president’s daughter. Show a little respect.”

Paige stepped between them. “Darcy, allow me to present Mr. and Mrs. Lorenzo Marcelli. They own the winery and all the property here.” Paige pointed to the slightly younger couple. “This is their son, Marco, and his wife, Colleen. And Lieutenant Commander Joe Larson.” Paige hesitated. “He’s a former SEAL and our naval liaison with the family.”

“Because I’m in danger of being kidnapped and taken out to sea?” Darcy asked. “That’s comforting. Be sure someone stocks me up with Dramamine. Any other surprises?”

“That’s not why I’m here-” the lieutenant commander said, but he was interrupted when Mrs. Marcelli senior stepped forward.

“I’m Tessa,” she said with a smile. “You should call me Grandma Tessa. Everyone does.” She grabbed Darcy’s upper arms as she studied her. “You’re much prettier in person than in the pictures. You should smile more. Welcome. It’s good to have you here.”

Then, before Darcy could react to the comment or the advice, the small, elderly woman reached up and pinched her cheek. The squeeze sent pain shooting through her entire face and made her eyes water.

“Mama, not so hard,” Marco said, putting his arm around his mother and pulling her back. “Don’t scare our guest off.” He smiled. “Paige said we were to call you by your first name. Are you comfortable with that?”

Darcy nodded, still caught up in the pain in her cheek. That little old lady could twist wood with that grip.

Darcy shook hands with Marco, his wife, and most of the Secret Service team. Last up was Joe Larson.

He was tall-maybe six feet-and muscled. Not as big, pound for pound, as Alex, but still a lot of man. He might be navy, but she would bet he could give any member of her team a run for his, or her, money.

A former SEAL was good, she thought. He’d probably killed bad guys before. She would have to remember to stick close to him.

“Lieutenant Commander,” she said as she stared into eyes as dark as a storm. They shook hands.

“We should probably get inside,” Paige said.

The elder Marcelli led the way, followed by his wife. Darcy motioned for Marco and Colleen to follow.

Darcy paused at the bottom of the steps. “I don’t get it. Are we staying here?”

“Yes,” Paige told her. “You’ll be in the main house with the family. Alex and I are in the guesthouse.”

Darcy couldn’t believe it. “Here? Have you looked around? Open fields. How are you going to keep me safe? There have to be a thousand places for people to hide.”

“They’re not open fields, they’re vineyards,” Alex said.

She glared at him. “Thanks for the clarification. I’ll be doing a crossword puzzle later. You can stop by and help.”

Paige touched her arm. “Darcy, this is a good location for you. There’s plenty of protection, but you won’t feel trapped or isolated. Plus the family is pretty cool.”