21. Chapter 21

21

" Y ou're not trying to hurt yourself, are you?"

Ilaria lifted her head out of the water and whirled toward the source of the sardonic tone. Caelum stood next to a lounge chair on the pool deck, wearing swim trunks. He slipped off his t-shirt and flip-flops and walked toward the pool.

"I'm not that desperate yet," she replied, wiping water from her eyes.

"That's a relief," he said as he stood at the edge of the deep end. "I wouldn't want your dead body to ruin my swim." He cannonballed into the water, sending up a huge stream of water that splashed her in the face.

After the meeting with Soren and Galen, Ilaria had felt the need to cool down. Whether it was from the arguing or the heated look Soren gave her at the end, she didn't know. All she knew was that she had an urge to dunk herself into the pool and muffle the racket in her head.

Caelum burst above the surface of the water. "Any reason you were trying to set a record for longest breath held underwater?"

She made a disgruntled face. "Your brother's highhandedness. What else?" She slowly treaded water.

An amused look passed over Caelum's face. "Ah, yes. We're all familiar with that."

Ilaria had always been the closest to Caelum when they were growing up, being the same age. But more than anything, he was the one who best understood her. His intuitiveness and empathy calmed her down whenever she got a little too hotheaded.

But she wasn't sure she should complain to Caelum about Soren. He was his brother, after all, and blood loyalty ran deep in this family.

"I'm here to listen if you want to talk about it," Caelum offered, reading her mind as usual. He dunked himself back under the water.

She maneuvered into a back float, relishing the muffling of her ears in the water. "Well, how much do you know about my situation?" she asked when she heard his head pop back up.

"Enough to get the gist of it." Caelum worked for the family business, so she wasn't surprised.

Ilaria stood upright. "Soren insists on going back to Chicago with me. And he plans to find out who ordered my parents' murders. And he wants to get me situated to take over my family's business."

To most people, Soren's actions sounded perfectly reasonable. Who wouldn't want the MacGregor second-in-command to do all that?

"You don't want him to make all the decisions for you," Caelum interpreted succinctly. He had always understood her.

"Exactly," she grumbled. "He just can't help himself."

"No, he can't," Caelum agreed. "The problem is, he usually does know better. At least when it comes to business."

"Ugh." She smacked the top of the water with her arm in frustration.

Caelum grabbed the volleyball that was floating in the corner and hit it lightly to her. "Are you afraid of looking dumb in front of him?"

She hit the ball back to him and it flew far over his head. She hadn't thought of that. "Maybe a little," she admitted. "He has a way of making me feel really stupid. He gets this condescending look on his face that says, ‘Do you even know what the fuck you're doing?'"

Caelum laughed, leaping into the air to catch the ball. "Yep."

They hit the ball back and forth for a few minutes.

"But I have a feeling that you know what you're doing, more than you let on," he surmised. "And Soren will be surprised to learn that. So my guess is that you both will learn a lot from each other."

She likely would learn a lot from him. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that.

"Also keep in mind that he means well," Caelum continued. "He protects family. It's completely ingrained in him. Just ask Niema." He laughed. "I guess I look at it this way: I'm glad he's with me rather than against me." He smacked the ball high into the air and it landed on the deck, rolling under a lounge chair.

"You're getting that," Ilaria called, laughing. He had a point there; she would not want Soren as an enemy.

He heaved himself out of the pool, retrieved the ball, and then dive-bombed back into the pool.

"Hey!" Ilaria wiped at her face.

"Whoops," he said, grinning. He hit the ball back to her.

"I missed you, Caelum," she said fondly. "You always give me a different perspective." She cuffed the ball back in his direction.

"Well, I am pretty wise," he replied.

"You're like a wise, old owl," she grinned.

"Who are you calling old? You're the elder."

"Only by two weeks, smartass." She skimmed the top of the water with her arm, sending a wave of water at him and drenching him.

He returned the favor. She squealed, and they spent the next few minutes splashing each other.

"Okay, you win." Ilaria held up her hands, laughing and breathless.

He held up his arms in victory.

"How've you been feeling lately?" she asked.

"No panic attacks in the last year," he confirmed. Another testament to how well they knew each other that he knew what she was referring to.

Caelum had severe and debilitating panic attacks in his teens and twenties. Ilaria had witnessed them a few times and had felt terrified and helpless.

"That's great to hear, Caelum. Are you still seeing your therapist?" She asked out of concern, not to pry.

"Yep, and I've been going to a hypnotherapist for the last year," he informed her. "That could be the reason I've been attack free." He paused. "Maybe now I'll feel more comfortable dating." He looked away, slightly bashful.

"Yes!" Ilaria leapt across the pool to grab his arm. "You should be dating. A lot."

He chucked. "I don't want to date a lot. But it would be great to meet someone smart and nice who wouldn't mind a relationship."

"So what do you tell all those cute women who smile at you everywhere you go?" Caelum may be on the sweet and sensitive side, but he was a MacGregor, and they were all uncommonly beautiful.

He looked sheepish. "I pretend not to notice."

She laughed. "Arick would be shocked if he heard you right now."

"And he would call me a dumbass," Caelum admitted. "But I don't want just a casual fling. I don't want women to like me because I have the MacGregor name or the MacGregor looks. I want someone who likes me for me."

Ilaria hugged him. "She's a lucky girl, whoever she is, when you finally pick the one. Who knows, maybe it'll be Holly," she wiggled her brows at him, referring to his date next weekend.

He grinned. "Thanks."

"And we won't tell her about the prank Niema and I played on you that made you lose your pants," she laughed. "At least, not until you're married."

"What's this about the prank that made Caelum lose his pants?" Niema called out, walking onto the deck in a bikini, with Arick right behind her.

"Pool party!" Arick pumped his fist into the air. Then he launched himself into the deep end.

Niema slid into the pool slowly. "I can't get my hair wet. It took me too long to blow dry."

Arick came up with a mouthful of water and sprayed it at his sister's hair.

Her mouth gaped open in disbelief. "Oh, you are so dead." She slapped the surface of the water, sending a splash to his face.

He ducked under the surface before the splash reached him.

Not about to be deterred, Niema waited until he could no longer hold his breath. When he surfaced, she sent a wave at him and hit him squarely in the face. Niema laughed so hard she started crying until a return wave from Arick drenched her hair completely.

Ilaria and Caelum burst out laughing at her drowned rat appearance.

"If we're late to the festival because I have to do my hair again, it'll be your fault." Niema lunged at her brother and tried to shove his head under the water.

"You shouldn't go in the pool if you're trying to stay dry," he shouted. He grabbed the volleyball and lobbed it at her, and the four of them took turns hitting the ball.

"Ilaria, let's go to the Inverwick Tavern booth first," Niema suggested. "We'll grab beers, browse the other booths, and then when we're nice and sloshed go back to Inverwick Tavern and meet some guys."

"Sounds like a plan," Ilaria agreed.

"My goal is to get the phone numbers for five women tonight," Arick declared. "Hot women."

"I was going to say, you'll have no trouble getting numbers from five middle-aged women," Niema cracked.

"Holly's meeting me there," Caelum threw in.

"We get to meet her!" Ilaria cheered.

"Great," Arick remarked. "You two can quiz each on math problems over your burgers."

Caelum launched the volleyball and smacked Arick on the shoulder. "Oops," he shrugged.

Niema retrieved the ball and launched it back in the air. "Don't knock it just because math problems make your head hurt. Or frankly, anything that requires thinking."

Arick sent another stream of water her way and she squealed.

Soren walked up. "Just letting you all know we're leaving in an hour."

Niema made a mad dash for the ladder. "Dammit, I need to fix my hair!" She rushed inside without a backward glance.

Arick hauled himself up the side of the pool and headed to a chair. "Eh, I have time. It'll take me ten minutes."

"Guess I'll take a quick shower," Ilaria said. She waded to the pool ladder and climbed up, feeling the heat of Soren's eyes on her. She couldn't look at him, though. If she did, she wasn't sure what she would see, and she might not be able to look away.

She grabbed her towel from the chair and quickly wrapped herself with it. As she walked inside the house, she heard Arick mutter under his breath, "Jesus, just tell her," followed by "Ow!"

***

"Where are you from again?" asked the burly, bearded man in front of Ilaria, holding a large plastic cup of beer. They were standing in front of The Inverwick Tavern's booth.

"Chicago."

For the last five minutes, Ilaria had been trying to look interested in whatever he was saying. But besides slightly slurring his words, he kept cutting himself off and cursing at his friends standing nearby, one of whom Niema was talking to.

"Will you be in town for a while, love?" He stared down at her chest.

"Sorry, no."

"Then maybe I'll visit you in Chicago." He hiccupped and took another long drink from his cup. "Tell me what your name is again?"

She rolled her eyes; she hadn't told him her name. One glance at Niema told her she needed rescuing as well. Ilaria patted Mr. Burly Beard on the arm. "It doesn't really matter."

Then she went over to Niema and said to her companion, "We gotta go. Catch you later." And she grabbed Niema's arm and pulled her away.

Niema burst into giggles, trying not to spill the beer still in her hand. "God, thank you. I couldn't get a word in. Why do men think they're so interesting?"

Ilaria laughed. "Beats me. The guy I was talking to wouldn't even look me in the face. He stared at my chest the whole time."

Niema eyed said chest. "Well, let's be honest. It's hard not to notice your perfect breasts."

Ilaria grinned. "I'm flattered only because it's coming from you."

Niema was breathtaking as usual. Her sleeveless turquoise dress contrasted with her black hair—washed and blown to perfection—and highlighted her blue eyes. While it modestly covered her cleavage, it was short enough to show off her toned legs.

Ilaria, on the other hand, wore a slim-fitting dark green dress that perfected her olive skin tone and highlighted her curvy hips, breasts, and trim waist. She felt sexy and carefree.

Well, mostly carefree. The only thing—or person, rather—that kept her from being completely carefree was Soren, who stood nearby, acting like an ill-tempered bodyguard. Even with the assassin eliminated, he apparently still felt more reassured keeping an eye on her.

She did her best to ignore him, but she couldn't turn off her awareness of him. Anytime he was near, her senses and skin tingled. She didn't have to look at him to know that his gaze was locked on her.

Ilaria asked herself again: if he had no interest in her, why did he look at her like that? Like she was prey, and he was a predator, and he was starving. Which, of course, made her question her ability to read him.

Niema pulled her toward another booth run by The Celtic Vine, a local vineyard and winery. "Maybe we'll have better luck at the wine booth instead."

Several people were standing in front of the stall, but Niema cleared a path to the front. "Bingo," she whispered into Ilaria's ear. Three attractive men were standing behind the table, introducing customers to their wines and pouring samples. Their eyes all lit up when Niema and Ilaria arrived in front of them.

"Ladies," the one in the middle said, his eyes running over Niema appreciatively. "You're looking to try some wine, I presume?"

Niema leaned forward, resting her hands on the table. "Yes, we are—" She glanced at his name tag. "—Edward."

Edward gestured across the variety of bottles on the table. "May I ask your name? Anything in particular you're looking for?"

"Niema," she answered with a smile. "And I think anything bold and spicy should do the trick."

Edward grinned and selected a bottle. "I have the perfect choice." He poured a sip into two glasses and handed one to Niema. "And your name is?" he asked as he handed the other glass to Ilaria but nearly missed the mark because he was too busy staring at Niema.

She almost laughed. "Ilaria," she replied as she quickly grabbed the glass before he dropped it.

Edward pivoted his attention back to Niema. Ilaria took a sip from her glass; the wine was indeed bold and spicy. While she loved bold and spicy personalities, she leaned toward sweet and smooth wines.

She leaned down and glanced at the labels and then glanced up at the man standing next to Edward; handsome, but she felt no attraction. Good, he was wearing a wedding ring, she was relieved to see. She wouldn't have to make up any excuses.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Soren move to stand next to the table.

"Can I try a white?" she asked the man. "Something smooth and easy to drink." She was clearly not a wine connoisseur; she just knew what she liked.

"Of course. I'm Ross, by the way." He looked through the labels, picked up a bottle, and poured a taste into a new glass for her.

Ilaria took a sip. Perfect. Exactly the kind of wine she would drink at home. "This is delicious."

Ross looked pleased with her reaction. "This one's my wife's favorite."

"Definitely a winner." Especially a man who mentioned his wife to another woman. He was clearly besotted. "Your wife has good taste, I think." They both laughed.

"I would love to get a bottle," Ilaria said wistfully, "but I'm only visiting."

She suddenly felt her skin give an alarming tingle, and then a hard male body pressed up behind her. "They can ship it to wherever you want, love." Soren said into her ear, his voice deep and rumbling. "Ross," Soren greeted. "Nice to see you." He slipped his arm possessively around Ilaria's waist, hand pressed to her tummy.

"Soren, likewise." Ross looked a little nervous. Soren was the local celebrity around here. Everyone wanted to be his friend even while they were slightly terrified of him.

Ilaria's knees felt as if they were going to give way. Was he trying to screw with her mind? She gritted her teeth and stiffened her body, then turned her head slightly behind her. "What are you doing?" she bit out under her breath.

"I'm helping you ship your wine back home," he replied smoothly.

"I can manage, thank you," she said in a clipped tone. She noticed Niema had turned to them, a satisfied smirk evident on her face.

"Of course you can, love," he said. He leaned in to nuzzle her ear with his lip and she fought to stay upright. "Just let me get this for you, yeah?"

Ross quickly produced an address card and a pen. "Here you go. Just write down your address."

Ilaria stared daggers at Soren, and he grinned in response. She wouldn't make a scene in front of strangers, and he knew it. Cursing him silently, she leaned down to write her address. He kept his hand on her lower back. When she straightened, he moved his hand back to her tummy.

This is all for show. It's not real.

Ross took back the card and wrote the name of the variety. "And how many bottles would you like us to ship? Would you like to try any other varieties?"

"Let's go with a full case," Soren answered for her. "Six of the Chardonnay, two of this Riesling, two of this—" He pointed to each bottle. "—and one and one."

Ross quickly wrote them all down. "Should I put this on your account?" He looked at Soren, who was running his hand up and down Ilaria's arm, giving her goosebumps. She wanted to yank her arm away but everyone was looking.

Niema continued to watch, fascinated, Edward all but forgotten.

"Please." The thumb on the hand that was on her tummy was tracing small circles against the thin satin of her dress. She sucked in a deep breath and resisted the urge to close her eyes and tilt her head back.

"You're all set." Ross nodded at Soren. "Ilaria, nice to meet you."

"Thank you, Ross."

Soren walked her away from the stall, his hands still around her. Irritation mounting, she swatted his hands away. "What the hell was that?" she hissed.

"Just helping you buy some wine, love," he said. His face was calm. Too calm. She wanted to slap it off him.

"No, that's not just what you were doing," she snapped. "You were trying to prove something, weren't you?"

"Prove what? To whom?" He continued to watch her impassively.

"I don't know, but whatever it was, it was all for show." Her hands tightened into fists. "Stay away from me. Don't involve me in your games," she growled. "I am not a possession. And I'm certainly not yours." She whirled and stalked off.