She rubbed her temples. Those days had been among the worst of her life. She’d missed Nic with every breath.

“We were friends, nothing more,” she said. “I was shocked when he proposed, and refused. Then my parents found out and they told the Grands. Suddenly everyone but me thought marrying a guy entering medical school was a wonderful idea. You were gone, I was alone.” She swallowed and forced herself to raise her head and look at him. “I took the easy way out. Jeff seemed like the safe choice….”

Nic’s contempt was as real as the structure of the building. It leaped across the space between them and chilled her bones until they were so brittle she thought they might crack. Words of protest rose to her lips. She wanted to remind him that she’d been barely eighteen, and not very experienced in the ways of the world. That until meeting him, she’d been a good daughter, always doing what was right, what was expected. She wanted to say a lot of things, but knew they wouldn’t matter. Not anymore.

Nic’s gaze slid away. He leaned back. “The hell of it is you weren’t willing to give up the winery for me, but you gave it up for him.”

“I didn’t give it up. I lost it. Somewhere between my two or three jobs at a time to support us and the distance, I realized I couldn’t do it all. I never wanted things to turn out the way they did.”

She squared her shoulders and glared at him. “You talk about all of this like you’re the only victim. The truth is we both lost something important. You paid by being exiled by your grandfather. I paid, too. I had a lousy marriage. Okay, I said yes and I walked down that aisle of my own free will. I took the easy way out and I lived to regret it. I lost ten years of living my dream. I didn’t have the children I always wanted. In the end, because I got married and went away, my grandfather no longer trusts me with the winery. You’re back and running Wild Sea. You have everything you’ve ever wanted. There must be some comfort knowing that in the end, you won.”

Nic shifted on his chair and looked away. An emotion she couldn’t identify moved across his face, then was gone.

“I spent eighteen months cut off from the only family I’d ever known,” he said. “When I came back, Emilio was a stranger to me. We never reconciled. I don’t consider that a victory.”

Brenna didn’t doubt he’d been scared and angry when his grandfather had sent him away. Nic had gone to France and found work at different wineries there. He’d honed his skills, and when his grandfather had come looking for him, he’d been in a strong position to negotiate.

“What about when he begged you to return?” she asked. “He was forced to admit he was wrong and he needed you. My grandfather would never have done that. He would have let me go without a second thought.”

Nic’s mouth twisted. “Bullshit. Your grandmothers would have ganged up on him so fast, he would have been begging for mercy inside of a day. No Marcelli would ever let one of their own walk away. Family is everything to you people.”

Brenna straightened. Something in Nic’s voice, something in the tone and the way he spoke the words, sparked memories. All those years ago he’d always wanted to talk about her family. He’d enjoyed hearing about celebrations and arguments and their loud, loving Sunday dinners together. She remembered thinking he’d looked almost hungry to hear the stories.

Had he been living vicariously through her experiences? Had the Marcellis been the family he’d always wanted? Was his request to go to the engagement party a chance to thumb his nose at them, or had he wanted to see the one thing he’d never had?

“I can’t decide if you love my family or hate them,” she said.

Nic surprised her by saying, “Both.”

“You’re serious?”

He shrugged. “Hate is too strong a word. I resented their hold over you. I didn’t want you to choose them, but I always knew you would. Now it doesn’t matter.”

Didn’t it? She couldn’t believe he’d let the past go. Neither of them had. There was too much energy, too much anger and hurt still alive.

“I’m sorry,” she told him. “I’m sorry for what I did. I’m sorry for being immature, for letting you put yourself on the line and then turning my back on you. I’m sorry I chose Jeff and that I let what was really important get lost in my fear. I’m sorry you got sent away.”

She could do her “sorry” list for fifteen minutes, but it would get boring, so she stopped.

“Nic, I don’t know what to say.”

“Me, either.”

Maybe there wasn’t anything left to be spoken. Maybe there wasn’t anything left at all.

“No,” she whispered involuntarily. “This can’t be all there is. There has to be more.”

His eyes darkened. “You know what else there is.”

She blinked, not sure what he meant, then she got it. Sex. The attraction that was always there, drawing them together, making them want and ache and…

He stood and moved toward her. She rose as well, but only to back away. “No,” she whispered. “Not now. Not like this.”

He shrugged. “So walk away.”

He moved like a predator. Like a man willing to take what he wanted. She wasn’t afraid, not exactly. And damn it all to hell, she didn’t want to walk away.

Awareness rippled along her spine. Her skin prickled. Logic dictated that this was a mistake. Making love right now, like this, would be really dumb. She would leave. Right this second.

She drew in a deep breath to calm herself, but that turned out to be a mistake. The heady smells of fermentation reminded her of all the other times she and Nic had made love in this room. Ghosts of their passionate selves surrounded them. She felt more than heard their sighs of surrender.

One of them moved closer. She wanted to say it was him, but it could have been her. His gaze settled on her mouth.

“This is just a reaction to the emotionally intense conversation we just had,” she said desperately

He nodded. “Or chemistry. We’ve always had chemistry.”

“Uh-huh.”

This time she was sure he was the one who moved, because she was too stunned to get her leg muscles to react. Without thinking, she licked her lower lip. His gaze sharpened, then narrowed.

Her fingers itched to reach for the hem of her T-shirt and pull it off over her head. She wanted to be naked right this second. She wanted his hands everywhere on her body, his tongue in her mouth, and then she wanted him to take her hard and fast, right up against the wall.

What she should do was back away. Or tell him no. Saying no would be really, really smart.

She cleared her throat. “Do you think—”

“No,” he said, cutting her off.

“So shouldn’t we—”

“Absolutely.”

She had the feeling they were talking about different things.

He touched her face with his fingers and she was lost.

Maybe if he’d grabbed her, pulling her close and demanding, she might have been able to resist. Right now strong passion, strong anything, would be a little unsettling. But he didn’t demand or take or use. Instead he stroked her cheek with a light, gentle touch. His dark eyes smoldered with restrained passion, yet he moved as if he had all the time in the world. As if this moment was special and to be savored.

Her eyes fluttered closed. In the darkness of not seeing, she depended on her other senses to tell her what was happening.

She heard the low sound of his breathing, the brush of his shoes against the concrete floor as he stepped closer. She inhaled the scent of his body as it mingled and blended with the yeasty smell of the wine. She felt warm fingertips drifting down her cheek to her jaw and the sweep of his thumb across her throat.

Her heartbeat sped up. Blood raced through her body. Heat bubbled. Electric anticipation grounded her in place as she waited for the inevitable. The first kiss. The beginning of their—

His mouth pressed against hers. The warm, tender contact caught her unaware. She jumped slightly, even as her arms rose and closed around him. They pressed together, hard to soft—she wiggled her hips and shifted closer—very hard to soft. He settled his hands on her waist and his lips more firmly on hers. She tilted her head in a movement as familiar as breathing.

A few minutes ago she’d wanted sex—fast and hot and out of control. But now that he was touching her, she didn’t want that anymore. She wanted to make love with Nic. Maybe it was all the emotions they’d dredged up with their conversation. Maybe it was days and weeks of spending time together. Maybe, given their past, it was simply inevitable.

She surrendered herself to the moment and the man. When his tongue touched her bottom lip, she parted for him. Last time they’d plunged together, taking, wanting, needing. While the fire still burned within her, making her breasts ache and her thighs tremble, she wanted a slow seduction, not an explosion of uncontrollable need. Either Nic felt the same or he could read her mind.

Instead of sweeping inside her mouth to claim her, he slipped in with a gentle caress. They kissed leisurely, deeply, rediscovering favorite movements and old resurrected passions. She buried her fingers into the cool, silky strands of his thick hair. His hands moved from her waist to her hips, then slid together and drifted up her back. He circled his palms so he both soothed and excited. When he reached her shoulders, he stopped, then retreated to the middle of her back. Her body clenched in anticipation.

So much the same…so much different, she thought hazily as Nic broke the kiss. Even before he pressed his mouth to her throat, she’d dropped her head back, exposing herself to him. As his hands came around to her breasts, she grabbed his upper arms. When his fingers grazed her hard nipples, she was already holding on so that when her knees gave out, she wouldn’t fall.

Even so, the jolt of pleasure left her breathless. She ached there and between her legs. Heat spiraled through her belly, radiating in all directions. She felt her insides melting, as her most sensitive places became swollen and ready.

“Look at me,” he said.

Brenna opened her eyes, then blinked as if coming awake from a dream. Nic’s face was tight with need. As they stared at each other, a muscle twitched by his jaw. He looked exactly the same as he had ten minutes ago, save for the light of desire in his eyes. But as she watched, she would have sworn that parts of the younger man he’d been all those years ago were still visible.

At some point she’d dropped her arms to her sides. Now he picked up one hand and brought it to his mouth. Still looking at her, he licked the center of her palm, then bit gently on the fleshy pad by her thumb.

Goose bumps broke out all over. She shivered in both delight and anticipation. It was a game she knew well.

When he dropped her hand, she reached for his. But instead of bringing it to her mouth, she turned it palm up. He wore a T-shirt. Starting just below the hem of his sleeve, she ran her nails down the length of his arm. She moved slowly, scratching with the lightest touch she could manage. When she reached his hand, she circled the palm.

He managed to maintain complete control until she raised his hand and took his index finger in her mouth. As she closed her lips around the base and sucked, he flinched. When she circled his finger with her tongue, he groaned.

His turn was next. Brenna tried to brace herself for whatever he had in mind, but when he reached for the hem of her shirt, she knew she was going to be in trouble. He pulled the garment up and over her head in one smooth movement. Her bra quickly followed.

The night air was cool against her heated breasts, but she barely noticed. Not with Nic’s smoldering gaze settling on her. As much as she wanted to close her eyes, she knew she had to watch. That was part of the game.

Using the finger she’d recently had in her mouth, he brushed the very tip of her right nipple. She gasped as pleasure shot through her. He licked his left index finger and touched it to her left breast.