Million-Dollar Marriage Merger Read online

  She had to sell Purple Fields.

  Three

  Tony debated whether to bring Rena flowers, remembering that she’d always loved the tulips that grew in the Carlino garden. “I like the purple ones best,” she’d said when they were teens. “They’re bright and happy, just waiting to put a smile on someone’s face.”

  But he knew giving Rena her favorite flowers wouldn’t put a smile on her face now. Nothing he could do—aside from vanishing off the face of the earth—would do that.

  He’d opted to knock on her door empty-handed, hoping that she hadn’t changed her mind about tonight.

  He’d sort of bulldozed her into this dinner date. What other choice did he have? He’d waited a respectable amount of time to approach her, allowing her time to heal from the shock of losing her husband. Yet, with a baby on the way and a failing business, Rena was in trouble. Tony didn’t think he could wait much longer.

  He’d promised David.

  He drove his Porsche through the Purple Fields gates for the second time today and parked in front of the gifts shop-wine-tasting room adjacent to the main house. The quaint shop attracted tourists during the late spring and summer months when the weather was mild and the scent of grapes flavored the air. Rena had worked there during high school, serving sandwiches and cheese and crackers to their customers.

  Tony ran a hand down his face, bracing himself for Rena’s wrath. She wouldn’t agree to his terms lightly, if at all. He got out of the car and walked the distance to the house. Using the metal knocker on the door, he gave three firm raps and waited. When she didn’t come, he knocked again, louder.

  “Rena,” he called out.

  He gazed over the grounds as the last remnants of evening light faded. Focusing intently, he glanced around at the other buildings and through the vineyards. There was no sign of her. Tony tried the doorknob, and to his surprise it opened.

  She’d left the door unlocked.

  He felt a surging sense of alarm. Rena lived alone now. It wasn’t like her not to be cautious. Without hesitation, he walked inside the house. The entry that led to the living room was dark. As he took a few steps inside, it seemed the entire house was dark. “Rena?”

  He made his way down the long hall and opened one door, peering inside to an empty room. He checked another room without success. When he got to the end of the hallway, he found the last door open. A small amount of moonlight illuminated the middle of the room where Rena slept on her bed.

  Tony winced, seeing her sleeping soundly, her chest lifting and falling peacefully, her raven hair spread across the pillow. A few strands curled around her face and contrasted against her creamy complexion. She wore the same austere dress he’d seen her in earlier today, but it couldn’t conceal the feminine slope of her breasts or the luscious curve of her hips.

  Tony had loved her once. He’d taken her virginity when she was eighteen. When she’d cried, overwhelmed by emotion, he’d clung to her and assured her of his love. Rena had given herself to him one hundred percent and though he’d tried to give her everything she needed from him, he couldn’t. He had another great passion—racing. It was in his blood. From the time he was a small boy, Tony needed to feel the wind at his back. He loved speed and thrilled at the danger of being wild and free. Later, he’d learned to harness his passion. He’d learned that precision and accuracy as well as spirit made you a winner.

  He’d achieved his goals without much struggle. He’d been born to race. But he’d also disappointed his father by not working alongside him as was expected by the eldest son, and he’d hurt the girl he’d admired and loved most in the world.

  Memories flashed again, of making love to Rena and how incredibly poignant and pure it’d been. But Tony’s mission here wasn’t to rehash the past but to move on to the future. Rena was David’s widow now, and the strain of his death was evident on her beautiful face, even in sleep.

  His first inclination was to quietly leave, locking the door behind him, but he found he couldn’t move, couldn’t lift his eyes away from her sad desolate face. So he stood at the threshold of her bedroom, watching her.

  It wasn’t long before she stirred, her movements lazy as she stretched out on the bed. Tony’s gaze moved to the point where her dress hiked up, exposing long beautiful legs and the hint of exquisite thighs.

  His body quickened, and he ground his teeth fighting off lusty sexual thoughts. Yet, quick snippets of memory emerged of hot delicious nights making love to her all those years ago.

  Rena opened her eyes and gasped when she spotted his figure in the doorway. Immediate fear and vulnerability entered her eyes. She sat straight up, and when she recognized him, anger replaced her fear. “What are you doing here?”

  “We had a date.”

  “A date?” To her credit, she did appear hazily confused. Then the anger resurfaced. “How’d you get in?”

  “The door was unlocked. Not a good habit, Rena. Anyone could have gotten into your house.”

  “Anyone did.”

  Tony chose to ignore the swipe.

  Rena swung her legs around and set her bare feet on the floor. She rubbed her forehead with both hands and shook her head. “I guess I fell asleep. What time is it?”

  “Eight-fifteen.”

  She looked up at him. “Were you standing there all that time?”

  “No,” he lied. “I just got here. I was fashionably late.”

  She closed her eyes briefly. “I don’t know what happened. I felt exhausted and fell into a deep sleep.”

  The baby, Tony thought. He’d had many a racing buddy speak about their wife’s exhaustion during their early pregnancy. “Maybe it’s all catching up with you. You’ve been through a lot this past month.”

  “You don’t know what I’ve been through.” She was being deliberately argumentative, and Tony didn’t take the bait.

  “How long before you can be ready?”

  Her brows furrowed. “Ready?”

  “For dinner.”

  “Oh, I don’t think so. Not tonight. I’m not—” she began to put her hand to her flat stomach, then caught herself “—feeling well.”

  “You’ll feel better once you eat. How long since you’ve eaten?”

  “I don’t know…. I had a salad for lunch around noon.”

  “You need to keep up your strength, Rena.”

  She opened her mouth to respond, then clamped it shut.

  “I’ll wait for you in the living room.”

  Tony turned and walked away, not really giving her a choice in the matter. There were many more things he’d have to force upon her before the evening was through.

  Rena got up from her bed, moving slowly as she replayed the events of the day in her mind. First, Tony had visited her this afternoon, a fact that still irked her. Yet he had something to say and he wouldn’t leave until he got it off his chest. That’s how Carlinos operated; they did what they darn well wanted, no matter how it affected other people. Bitter memories surfaced of her father standing up to Santo Carlino, but Rena shoved them out of her mind for the moment. She couldn’t go there now.

  Next came thoughts of her conversation with Mr. Zelinski at the bank. He’d been kind to her, confessing his hands were tied. She wouldn’t be getting the loan she desperately needed. She wouldn’t be able to pay her employees. Purple Fields was doomed.

  Her head began to pound. She felt faint. Though her appetite had been destroyed today, she admitted that she really should eat something. For the baby’s sake, if nothing else. She couldn’t afford to sink into depression. It wouldn’t be good for the unborn child she carried.

  As quick as her body allowed, she got ready, cringing at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was drawn, her hair wild, her clothes rumpled. She washed her face, applied a light tint of blush to her cheeks, some lipstick to her lips and brushed her hair back into a clip at the base of her neck—just to appear human again. She changed her clothes, throwing on a black pair of pants and a soft knit be
ige sweater that ruffled into a vee and looked stylish though comfortable. She slipped her feet into dark shoes and walked out of the room. Whatever Tony had in mind, she certainly wasn’t going to dress up for him.

  Tony closed the magazine he was reading and rose from the sofa when she strode in. She squirmed under his direct scrutiny. “You look better.”

  She didn’t comment yet noted genuine concern in his eyes. Why?

  He strode to the door and opened it. “Shall we go?”

  “Where are you taking me?”

  Tony’s expression flattened. He’d caught her meaning. “I’ve made arrangements, Rena. No one will see you with me.”

  If she weren’t so upset about everything, her face might have flamed from his acknowledgment. She lifted her chin. “How’s that possible?”

  “We own half of Alberto’s. It’s closed to the public tonight.”

  “You mean you had it closed for my benefit?”

  “You haven’t had any use for me since I returned. I didn’t think you’d like answering questions about being out with me tonight if anyone saw us.”

  Rena had almost forgotten that the Carlinos had their hands in other enterprises. They owned a few restaurants as well as the winery. They also owned stores in outlying areas that sold a line of products related to wine.

  “This isn’t a date, Tony. Just so we’re clear.”

  Tony nodded. “Very clear.”

  Rena strode past him and waited for him to exit her house before she locked the front door. She moved quickly, and once he beeped his car alarm, she didn’t wait for him to open the car door. She climbed into his Porsche and adjusted the seat belt.

  “Ready?” he asked unnecessarily. Once they made eye contact, he roared the engine to life. “It’s a nice night. Mind if I put the top down?”

  “No, I could use a good dose of fresh air.”

  It’s how Tony liked to drive, with the top down, the air hitting his face, mastering the car and the road beneath.

  He hit a button, and mechanically the car transformed. He drove the road to Napa surprisingly slowly, as if they were out for a Sunday drive. Every so often, he glanced her way. She couldn’t deny his courtesy.

  Or the fact that she thought him the most devastatingly handsome man she’d ever met. She’d thought so since they’d first met the day he entered public school at the age of sixteen. Up until that point, the Carlinos had gone to an elite private school. But Tony hated the regimented lifestyle, the solitude and discipline of being in an academy. Finally, his father had relented, granting his sons the right to go through the public school system.

  Tony had made a lasting impression on her, and they’d started out as friends. But the friendship had grown as they’d gotten closer, and Rena had become Tony’s steady girlfriend two years later.

  Despite his obvious wealth and place in Napa society.

  Despite the fact that Santo Carlino and her father had become bitter enemies.

  Despite the fact that Rena never truly believed she could have a lasting relationship with Tony.

  “Care for some music?” he asked, reaching for the CD player button.

  “If you don’t mind, I’d like to be quiet.”

  She didn’t want to rekindle memories of driving in Tony’s car with the top down and the music blasting. Of laughing and telling silly jokes, enjoying each other’s company.

  “Okay,” he said amiably.

  They drove in silence, Tony respecting her wishes. Shortly, he pulled into Alberto’s back parking lot. “I usually don’t resort to back alley entrance ways,” he said, with no hint of irritation. “Are you hungry?”

  “Yes, actually quite hungry.”

  “Good, the food is waiting for us.”

  Before she managed to undo her seat belt, Tony was there, opening the car door for her. He reached his hand inside, and rather than appearing incredibly stubborn in his eyes, she slid her hand in his while he helped her out. The Porsche sat so low to the ground she would have fumbled like an idiot anyway, trying to come up smoothly to a standing position.

  Sensations ripped through her instantly. The contact, the intimate way his large hand enveloped her smaller one, trampled any false feeling of ease she’d imagined. She fought the urge to whip her hand away. Instead, she came out of the car and stood fully erect before slipping her hand out of his. Composing herself, she thanked him quietly and followed him inside the restaurant.

  “This way,” he said and gestured to a corner booth lit by candlelight. True to his word, the entire restaurant was empty but for them. She sat down at one end of the circular booth, while he sat at the other.

  The few times Rena had come here, she’d always felt as though she’d wandered in from the streets in Tuscany with its old world furnishings and stone fountains. Alberto’s was one of finest restaurants in the county, serving gourmet fare and the best wines from Napa.

  “I had the chef prepare a variety of food. I wasn’t sure what you liked.”

  “You forgot that I loved pepperoni pizza?”

  Tony’s mouth twisted. “No one could inhale pizza like you, Rena. But I doubt it’s on the menu tonight. Let’s go into the kitchen and see what the chef conjured up for us.”

  Tony bounded up from the booth and waited. She rose and walked beside him until they reached the state-of-the-art kitchen. They found covered dishes on the immaculate steel counter along with fresh breads, salads and a variety of desserts sitting in the glass refrigerator.

  Tony lifted one cover and announced. “Veal scaloppine, still hot.”

  Rena looked on with interest.

  Tony lifted another cover. “Linguine arrabiatta, black tiger shrimps with bacon and garlic.”

  Steam rose up, and she leaned in closer. “Hmm, smells good.”

  He lifted two more covers displaying filetto di bue, an oven roasted filet mignon, which smelled heavenly but was too heavy for Rena’s tastes, and ravioli di zucca, which Tony explained was spinach ravioli with butternut and Amaretto filling. Since entering the aromatic kitchen, Rena’s appetite had returned wholeheartedly.

  “The ravioli looks good,” she said. “And that salad.” She pointed to a salad with baby greens, avocado, tangerines and candied walnuts.

  “Great,” Tony said lifting the covered dish of her choice. And one for him. “If you could grab that salad, we’ll eat. Soon as I find us a bottle of wine.”

  “Oh, no wine for me,” she announced. Tony glanced at her with a raised brow but didn’t question her. “I’ll have water.”

  “Your poison,” he said with a smile. He set the dishes down on the table and took off again, bringing back a bottle of Carlino Cabernet and a pitcher of water.

  They settled in for the meal in silence, Rena polishing off the delicious salad within minutes and Tony sipping his wine, eyeing her every move. “Quit looking at me.”

  “You’re the best looking thing in this place.”

  She squeezed her eyes shut. “Don’t, Tony.”

  He shrugged it off. “Just stating the obvious.”

  When he turned on the charm, he had enough for the entire Napa Valley and then some. “Do you mind telling me what’s so important that you couldn’t tell me earlier this afternoon?”

  “After dinner, Rena.”

  With her water glass to her lips, she asked, “Why?”

  “I want you to eat your meal.”

  She gathered her brows and shook her head. “Because…what you have to say might destroy my appetite?”

  Tony inhaled sharply then blew out the breath. “Because you’re hungry and exhausted, that’s why.”

  “Why the sudden concern about my well-being?”

  Tony softened his tone. “I’ve always cared about you, Rena.”

  “No, Tony. We’re not going there. Ever,” she emphasized. She wouldn’t go down that mental path. She and Tony had way too much history, and she thought she’d never heal from the wounds he’d inflicted.

  “Can’t you just for
get for a few minutes who I am and who you are? Can’t we break bread together quietly and enjoy a good meal?”

  Rena relented but still questioned Tony’s mysterious behavior. “Fine. I’ll eat before the ravioli gets cold.”

  “That’s a girl.”

  She shot him a look.

  He raised his hands up in surrender. “Sorry.” Then he dug into his filet mignon with gusto and sipped wine until he’d drained two goblets.

  After finishing their entrées, Tony cleared the dishes himself, refusing Rena’s help. He needed time to collect his thoughts and figure out how he was going to propose marriage to his best friend’s new widow and not come off sounding callous and cruel. There was only one route to take and that was to tell her the truth.

  Hell, he hadn’t ever really thought about marriage to anyone but Rena Fairfield. As teenagers, they’d spent many a night daydreaming of the time when they’d marry. But then Rena’s mother became ill, and Tony had been given a real opportunity to pursue his dream of racing stock cars. Leaving Rena behind to care for her ailing mother and help her father run Purple Fields had been the only black spot in an otherwise shining accomplishment. Begging her to join him served no purpose. She couldn’t leave. She had family obligations. She loved making wine. She loved Purple Fields. She was born to live in Napa, where Tony had been born to race.

  He’d hurt her. No, he’d nearly destroyed her.

  Each time he’d called her from the racing circuit, she’d become more and more distant. Until one day, she asked him not to call anymore. Two years later, she’d married David. He hadn’t been invited to the wedding.

  Tony covered a tray with tiramisu, spumoni ice cream and chocolate-coated cannolis. He returned to Rena and answered her skepticism as she watched him place the food on the table. “What? Regardless of what you think, I wasn’t born with a silver spoon. We had to do chores at the house. My father was a stickler for pulling your own weight.”

  “I would think you’re one who is used to being served.”

  “I am. I won’t deny it. Life is good now. I’m wealthy and can afford—”