Haven (2 page)

I returned his fake smile and offered my cheek, inviting a brotherly,
hello
smooch. “Sorry I’m late. Nice suit.”

He leaned down to kiss the air next to my cheeks. “Nice dress.” An automatic response. He straightened, mugging for the cameras.

My smile faltered. “Yes, it is.”

He didn’t notice, but I
had
made an effort for his event, donning my favorite little black dress. Fine, tailored silk cap sleeves and empire waist, it looked killer with my dark eyes and pale skin. I’d even left my long hair wavy—though I preferred to tame my dark tresses stick-straight with a flat-iron—the way he liked it. Matching black strappy sandals took me from five-seven to near six feet, a good height adjustment when hanging out with my six-five brother.

After the ribbon-cutting, Lorenzo gripped my arm and ushered me away from my friends. Mark and Ren moved to intercept, but a nod from me and they backed off. I could handle my brother.

“Lorenzo, chill on the arm squeezing,” I hissed.

“Where have you been?” He pulled me into the room across the hall from the new Italian gallery.

No paintings here, mostly pottery, masks, and some ancient tools and tapestries. The room was off limits tonight and two security guards stepped forward. One look from my brother returned them to their duties.

“We had a little problem at the house with—”

“You were late,” he growled, releasing me.

I rubbed the soreness from my abused arm. I tried to play nice, tell him about the witch, but as usual, his big brother domineering act angered me and I snapped. “You’re lucky I showed up at all. You can lose the attitude if you want me to stick around.”

I brushed past him, but he caught my arm. Pain spiked in my head. I jerked from his grasp and massaged my temples. Pesky hangover.

“Hey, you okay,
sorellina
?”

The gentle tone and the
little sister
endearment surprised and further irritated me. “Don’t pretend to care, Lorenzo.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No? Then what is?” I fumed. “Is it fair I’m here working the media circus on my birthday? Is it fair you’re a bossy bully of a brother? Is it fair Mom and Dad
died
and left us stuck with each other?”

Oh, low blow. Hadn’t meant to say that, but hangover plus witch attack plus overbearing brother equaled one unhappy birthday girl.

He winced. “Carina, stop.”

But I couldn’t. Guilt warred with hurt and the latter won out. “Stop what? Telling the truth? Say it
doesn’t
hurt my feelings you forgot my birthday? Say we’re one big merry band of orphans? Speaking of, where are Dom and Tony? Why am I the only
sibling you’re yelling at for being late?”

“Their flight was delayed. They
will
be here, Carina. And we didn’t forget your birthday.”

I crossed my arms. “Riiiiight. And the forecast calls for snow tomorrow in San Francisco.”

Lorenzo held up his hands. “I’m sorry. Let’s start over.”

My mouth fell open. “Did you just
apologize
?”

He waved away my comment. “Forget about the ceremony and the media. It’s not important. We need to talk about—”

My eyes widened. “Forget the...not important? Who
are
you and what have you done with my brother?”

“
Sorellina,
please focus.”

Oh-kaaaay. I closed my mouth and blinked at him.

“We need to talk about a family
matter.” His serious gaze locked with mine. “About the past and your faulty memory. And there’s someone you need to meet.”

Again with the meeting of strangers. “Have you been talking to Faith?”

“What? No, I—” Something behind me caught his attention. He stiffened. “
Merda
!”

Curious, I tried to find the source of his upset amidst the sea of people chatting and drinking. Nothing stood out.

“Stay here.” He stepped past me, jaw set, eyes narrowed.

“No. Wait.” Big brother wanted to bolt. Normally it might delight me, but he needed to know about the witch attack. If she wasn’t some crazed loner and belonged to a bigger operation targeting our family... “I need to tell you why I was late.”

“It’s not important.” He continued to glare at something, or someone, in the crowd.

“Oh, I beg to differ. I wasn’t goofing around. A witch broke into my house.”

“What?” Lorenzo’s angry eyes focused on me.

“I knocked her out and probably broke her nose and then Faith had some weird psychic vision about cracked doors and someone spying on me. The police came and—”

He pulled me into a bear hug. I froze, stunned.

After a lengthy, awkward-for-me silence, he stepped back and gripped my shoulders, giving me serious, make-me-squirm eye contact. “I don’t always show it, but I love you,
sorellina
. We all do. When Dom and Tony arrive we’ll talk about the past and you and where we go from here. As for the attack, it wasn’t random. You’re a target now and I—
we
need to be vigilant. But it’s going to be all right. We’ll make it all right. Just trust me and stay put until I return.”

He ordered the security guards to watch me then disappeared into the crowd.
Vigilant
. The same thing Faith said. And to hear him say he loved me? How odd.

Though he’d played surrogate parent for the past twenty years—since ages fifteen and five, respectively—he’d never been one for affectionate displays. At least not during my teen years. No idea how he’d behaved during my childhood. That part of my life formed a big black hole. No memories, no feelings, nothing.

Did I want to know what my mind lacked? Not really. I’m more of a live-in-the-now kind of girl
.
Still, I
was
curious about whom Lorenzo—and Faith—expected me to meet.

So, on my twenty-fifth birthday, a day meant for celebration, I found myself with family
secrets to unravel, mysterious strangers to meet, and unknown dangers to avoid. Unease slithered up my spine and my head throbbed yet again. I was a pawn in a game I hadn’t even known I played.

I didn’t like it one bit.

~ * ~

I didn’t wait for my brother. At the room’s entrance, I spotted Adrian, my friend and Haven business-slash-sometimes-bed-partner.

He gave me a wave and his patented don’t-worry-be-happy grin. I waved back and gave him an appreciative once-over. He epitomized the cute California boy with his tan and muscular body, shoulder-length, white-blond hair, and sky blue eyes, but his clothes were all business. Custom-made Italian suits were
de rigueur
for my partner, and today he wore a dark navy pin stripe with a light blue shirt. No tie. Impeccable and striking. At five-eight, he stood an inch taller than me—without my current super heels, that is—but his confident attitude made him appear taller. He was super smart, too. Our thriving club attested to his cleverness.

I nodded at the security guards who parted to let him inside. He kissed my cheeks, hands gliding along my bare arms. “Hey, babe.”

I relaxed at his touch. “Hey, yourself. What are you doing here?”

His lips curled upward. “Would you believe me if I said I came for the art?”

I rolled my eyes. “As if.” His presence meant networking with the suits, or prowling for cute playmates. I put my money on the latter. “Trolling for fling material?”

His grin widened. “Aw, babe, you know I’m only
here for you.”

“Ha. Don’t even go there, Adrian.”

A seductive chuckle accompanied soft kisses planted on my hand. His eyes rolled up to watch my reaction.

Sexy man. “You look totally hot today.”

“Thanks, babe.” He stopped the lip service—much to my disappointment—and released me. “Mark and Ren are right outside.” He motioned at the hall. “They told me what happened.”

“You mean the witch thing?”

The humor drained from his face. “Yeah, about that.”

I raised a brow.

“I think I know the witch who attacked you.”

I crossed my arms. “Oh?”

“I think it was Tiffany, this girl I dallied with, recently.” He ran a hand through his hair.

“Tiffany?” I smirked. “Of course, Witch Barbie is a Tiffany. And since when do you boff witches? Especially criminal ones?”

“That’s the thing. The Tiffany I know is a high-end wedding or event planner or something.”

“Or something? I see you two talked a lot,” I scoffed.

“Seriously, Rina, she’s totally upscale. Drives a Porsche. Lives in a swanky condo downtown. I had no idea she was so...”

“Insane?”

He gave me a rueful nod. “Guess I shouldn’t have told her about you.”

Ignoring the pang of jealousy, I focused on the important bit
.
“What about me, exactly?”

“That we’re exclusive.”

“We’re not exclusive.”

He rubbed my arm. “Yes, but when I told her—”

“You mean when you
lied
to her.”

“But I could be exclusive with you.” He trailed a knuckle down my cheek.

I rolled my eyes. “Dream on, player.”

“I could try.” He batted his pretty blue eyes, making me laugh.

“You?” I bopped his chest. “Stop using me as your break-up excuse or I’ll kick your butt from here to Italy,
capisci
?”

He grinned, a quick flash of white teeth against his dark tan. “Message received.”

“Good.” I snaked my arm through his and nudged us toward the doorway. “Now go get your flirty groove on, ’cause I know you want to.” And I wanted to find my other friends.

We stepped into the busy hall. The crowd around us meandered toward the café where a classical guitar quartet would soon perform. Mark hovered nearby, his attention on me, while Ren leaned over a giggling, lanky legged skirt. One of his hands rested on the wall above her blonde head, the other played with a strand of her stick-straight hair. Despite the distraction, his Rina radar still worked because he caught my stare and nodded.

Adrian stroked my arms. “I am sorry about Tiffany.”

His touch pleased me, as usual. “Apology accepted. Honestly, I think the fact you had a one or two-night stand with her is just a bizarre coincidence. There’s some bigger danger in play here. According to Faith and Lorenzo, anyway.”

“Oh yeah?”

Knowledge flickered in his eyes, secret knowledge, but I didn’t feel like pursuing it. “Yes, but I don’t want to talk about it. It’s my birthday, dammit, and so far it has been a whole lot of
not
fun.”

“Aw, babe, happy birthday.”

He leaned in for a kiss, but I pressed my hand against his mouth. I liked kissing him, but not in public with paparazzi lurking everywhere. I refused to give them a show.

Touching his lips was my mistake. He nipped my fingertips and his tongue darted out to lick and tease. A twinge of need awakened in my core.

“Don’t, Adrian.” My treacherous body swayed toward his. “I have to go now.” My voice sounded breathy and unconvincing. He curved his free hand around my waist, drawing me closer to take advantage of his small victory.

Turn around.

I froze, my moment of weakness chased away by a jolt of adrenaline. I resisted Adrian’s pull. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?”

Silence.

“Nothing, I guess.” A wave of energy rolled into me, curled itself possessively around my body, and gave me one hell of a head rush. “Oh, wow.” I bit my lip, bracing against reaction.

Adrian tightened his grip on my waist. “Rina?”

Mark and Ren stalked over, faces grim.

“Did—? Do you—?” My mouth was so dry I could barely speak. “Do you guys feel that?”

Adrian squeezed, capturing my wandering attention, concern etched in the stern set of his jaw. “Feel what? What’s wrong?”

I started to tell them the Invisible Man hugged me against an electrified fence, but a second wave of energy bowled into me, making me tingle from head to toe. The sensation walked the line between pleasure and pain. A moan escaped me.

Mark took me from Adrian. “That’s it. We’re out of here.” He tried to pick me up, but I shook my head. Bad idea. Dizziness took the hall, and me, for a little spin.

Turn around. Turn. Around.

Was it a voice or instinct urging me on? Either way, the desire proved irresistible. I pulled away from Mark, pivoted, and forgot how to breathe.

The electric energy pulled back. The dizziness abated. All extraneous noise and people drained out of my perception until there was only
Him
.

Tall, fit, and bad-boy handsome with skin like pale honey, his thick, walnut brown hair hung tousled in a sexy, I-just-got-out-of-bed way. A hip, black, button-down shirt accentuated a sculpted upper body before it tucked into slacks painted on long, lean legs. The whole package made my mouth water.

Hot. Yummy. Totally my type.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

His mouth twitched in a hint of a smile as if he heard me—impossible given the distance between us. Heat spread, loosening my muscles, and my pulse sped up. Nerves. What’s wrong with me? Guys never made me nervous, not even gorgeous ones.

I nibbled my lower lip, mind racing to make sense of my reaction. His gaze tracked the movement then slid back up. The heat from his stare hit me full force, driving a shaft of need through me. Energy rocked me again, a warm, electric breeze bathing my skin. My eyes widened in comprehension. The energy came from him.

Mark gripped my arm, ending my staring contest with the hot stranger. “We’re out of here,” he repeated, his posture stiff and screaming hostility toward the stranger.