Initiate Me (7 page)

As I entered the main bar, I noticed Marco was already there taking a long draw on his beer. He placed the bottle down carefully on the counter before turning his attention back to his date who was playing pool with a bunch of young guys.

Damn, is she the same date he had last night or a different woman?
I could never keep up with his dates. This guy was unbelievable; he had women falling at his feet, whereas my sex life had turned sour the moment I caught my ex-fiancée going at it with another man, in
my
bedroom.
Stupid bitch.

Marco called out to me with a cocky grin on his face, “Not bad for a tired old man,” he said, twirling his beer around as he waited for his turn to play pool. “You’ve really turned this pub around, buddy. It got rave reviews in the local paper.”

“Well, I thought you’d be too distracted with all your female entertainment lately to even notice,” I teased him.

“Yeah, man, I’m just living ‘la vida loca’ and loving it,” Marco announced. “Why, are you jealous?”

I grinned. “Yeah, Marco, I am real jealous of the various floozies you keep dating. It’s a wonder you haven’t given your mother a coronary yet.”

“Hey, come on, give me some credit. I stick to the Brunetti rules. I
never
bring a woman home to the mansion; only to events and functions. I respect my parents’ wishes for that.” Marco sounded sincere. “I know my father only wants me to bring a woman home if I am sure I am going to marry her. That goes for all of us. Max did it and Mia and Miccah know the drill, too.”

“Well, aren’t you the golden boy, Marco.”

He snorted and pulled a face at me, snatching the pool cue from his date. “Watch the master at work. Six ball, right-side pocket.” He lined up the shot, sinking the ball in one smooth, easy motion. Handing the cue back, he returned to his beer.

I wasn’t going to let Marco know how tired I really was or the reason for it. Sleep had evaded me the previous night. I tossed and turned, hard and aching all night long with no easy solution to my problem.

“So, are you enjoying living upstairs, Zane?” Marco kicked his legs freely as he sat on a stool waiting for one of the younger guys to take a shot.

“Loving it,” I answered.

“I’m guessing you never made it to first base with my sister then, seeing as I can’t see her around and hanging off your arm?” Marco’s eyes twinkled with mischief. “Being the gentleman that you are, you obviously didn’t pursue her after all.”

I grunted and flashed him a dirty look.

Damn it, he could poke all he wanted, but no way would I would confess to Marco what went down with his sister and me the previous night. I didn’t trust myself to be close to her and not make a move on her. Hell, the way she’d acted, inviting me to teach her everything I know about sex and to admit she’d fantasised about me? Holy Hell, I didn’t trust myself to be alone with her and there was no use in begging for trouble. I hated that I had to hurt her; the expression in her eyes was almost enough to make me reconsider, if only to be allowed to wipe away her pain.

I had to admit it; Mia had grown up. But I couldn’t let her goad me into doing something she’d regret. She was too young to really know what she wanted for the long haul, and even though I was looking for a one-night stand, I sure as hell was not having it with her. The pain of rejection was for her own good, even though sticking to my guns choked something deep inside me.

“Of course, living here at the pub means you’ve got much more privacy than staying at one of the resort suites, like I do.” Marco jumped off the table with a whoop of delight. “Hey, buddy, you blew that shot,” he called out to one of the young guys. “You want to have a turn, Zane, or is your shoulder still giving you trouble?”

My shoulder injury was damn fine! It was my dick which was giving me trouble. Max still hadn’t forgiven himself for shooting me instead of that fucker, Tate Turner, who tormented Jada for months. Turner not only beat Jada once, but twice within an inch of her life; all because he wanted her shares in the Sinclair Winery. I was almost fully recovered thanks to Milan. She was in her final semester of her studies in Physiotherapy and had referred me to a great therapist who had recently opened a clinic in Nuriootpa, which is one of the main towns in the Barossa. It saved me travelling to and from Adelaide, which I certainly did not have time for these days.

As long as I did my exercises every day, I would regain complete mobility in my shoulder in a few more months. I continued to sip my beer and glanced around, letting the familiar refurnished décor soothe my tired nerves. It wasn’t even noon and I was already on my way to another round of beer.

The place was filling up. Jada wanted it to be very informal with drinks and simple nibbles, and she insisted on not making it a private function by allowing the pub to run exactly how it normally did on a Sunday. Sunday was one of the busiest days. On our side of the hall, people sat and talked, or played pool and relaxed. I had my manager set up the outdoor area for the farewell.

There was a section next door where the music was usually louder, the dance floor wide and the bar open late, but that didn’t open up until five pm. We were the only ones playing pool in the front bar, which was tucked away in the back corner of the pub where it was quiet and private.

I was getting up for my turn when I saw her. Mia breezed in the doorway, dark, silky hair floating around her head. She looked like an angel entering the room. The first thing I noticed were her breasts almost spilling out of her dress.

Most Sundays at the Brunetti mansion for family dinners, Mia was always in denim jeans or jean shorts with cotton shirts. Her hair was usually pulled back into a sensible ponytail while she helped cook and entertain guests around the house with her mother. She was a natural at entertaining.

However, at the pub, she wore a sundress which consisted of layers of flimsy material which lifted and floated in different directions as she sashayed forward. The clinging top left her smooth shoulders bare, the scooped neckline revealing deep cleavage of tanned, olive skin. The fluttering layers of the skirt slid over her smooth legs, stopping well above her knees. The whole thing was cut from shades of blue and silver, making her glow like an ocean breeze.

Milan and Blake were close behind Mia, and one of Marco’s young friends, Brandon, rushed forward to greet her. I bit back a growl as the little punk took her hand and placed it under his arm to escort her outside, his lips tight to her ear as he spoke. Mia’s gaze flicked to mine for a brief second before she laughed at something Brandon had said, then turned to everyone and greeted them all.

“Hi, boys. It’s great to see you’ve brought your friends with you, Marco,” Mia addressed her brother and nodded politely toward his date. Mia was always respectful; no matter how much she hated her brother’s constant change of partners, she was never rude to them.

As for Milan, she was no Mia; she was a shark ready to attack. If looks could kill, Marco’s date would have been dead a long time ago.

“Well, at least you have kept the same date for another day, Marco.” Milan directed her gaze at the poor girl standing at Marco’s side. “So, sweetie, you must have blown him really well last night for him to keep you around for another twenty-four hours. Trust me, you have made history.”

“Milan!” Mia pulled at Milan’s arms, dragging her toward the outdoor area. “Let’s go wait for Max and Jada outside.”

Marco was breathing heavily and trying to control his raging temper. Milan always got him riled up and both of them would usually end up fighting. Blake mumbled a curt apology to Marco and his date for Milan’s rudeness and went off after her.

“She needs a fucking leash,” Marco roared.

“Calm down. You should be used to her antics by now,” I told him. “Milan loves to stir the pot, and you know that, but you always take the bait.”

From the corner of my eye, I saw Mia lean down and kiss Brandon’s cheek, her hands resting on his arm. I tensed and had to restrain myself from running outside and smashing my fist into the guy’s face. If she was trying to make me jealous, it was fucking working!

There goes a relaxing afternoon amongst friends and family, to farewell the bride and groom.
I turned away and retrieved my beer.

At the rate the night was progressing, I’d be needing another one pretty damn quick.

***

MIA

“H
onestly, I cannot believe you said that to that poor girl,” I scolded Milan. “It was embarrassing.”

“For who, Mia? I, for one, am not embarrassed at all. Your brother is...is...is a PIG!”

“Oh, for God’s sake, you are behaving like a child again, Milan. Snap out of it and let it go. What’s it to you who Marco dates anyway?” I questioned her, knowing very well why it worried her. Milan was as stubborn as a mule and would never admit she was attracted to Marco. Ever. “Now, breathe and calm down.”

I hoped by the time her date, Blake, returned with our drinks she would be a lot calmer. Otherwise, the poor guy would be running in the other direction pretty fast!

“Fine, Miss Goody Two-Shoes. I’ll try to be more accepting.” Milan grabbed a wineglass from one of the waiters as they walked past us and drank it so quickly she spluttered some of the sparkling fluid all over herself. “Damn it. Now I need to go clean it up before it stains.”

I shook my head as Milan stormed off in a huff. It served her right; she could be such a party pooper and a pain in the arse sometimes. I really didn’t understand Milan anymore. Her attitude seemed to be getting worse, especially toward Marco; in fact, to most men in general.

I barely had time to take a sip of my raspberry cruiser when Max and Jada arrived followed by my parents and the Sinclairs. Not only were Max and Jada leaving for their honeymoon, but my parents were also travelling to visit relatives in Italy for six weeks. That meant I would have the whole house to myself, as long as Marco didn't come over to 'check-up' on me like he promised me he would. Hopefully he'd be too busy being CEO for the two weeks Max was away and not be too concerned about me.

That left me starting my internship first thing in the morning at The Brunetti Hotel and Spa Resorts, but unfortunately, I'd be working with Zane. Before, I had been so excited to start working in the family business, but after what happened with Zane, I was feeling more than scared. I was apprehensive and, worst of all, embarrassed.

Marco's friend and newly employed accountant at the resort, Brandon, was clinging to me like a vine. His fingers lingered on my side, and I pinched his wrist to prompt him to withdraw them. Brandon was good-looking and fun, but Zane...he made my body ache, he...

“Hey, angel. You’re looking good.”

Every muscle in my body tensed at hearing his low drawl from behind me.

Zane Mitchell.

Great, just great!
There was no way I could avoid him with the farewell being held at his pub. Damn him for being my brother's closest friend...and damn him for being the object of my unrequited love for the last nine years.

And furthermore, never in those nine years had I been anything more to him than Max's little sister. I barely held back a stifling, frustrated sigh. "My name is Mia, not angel,” I replied without turning to face him.

How dare he call me angel after last night!
He could take the nickname he'd given me and shove it where the sun doesn't shine. Especially when, in my fantasies, I imagined I was the only woman he couldn't live without.

I felt him move closer, his innate heat searing me even from several feet away. I'd always been overly attuned to him, instantly alert to his presence in a room. In the past, I always made excuses to hang out with my older brothers just to be near him. Most of the time I was with Milan, as Jada was off in Europe pursuing her modelling career.

When I was on my own, I always tried to be extra quiet, so no one would notice or remember I was there while they played footy outside or shot pool in the games room. I was always drawn to him; drinking him in and losing myself in the spark of his wicked green eyes. And of course, I'd memorised every inch of Zane's face from spending too much of my time staring at him when I didn’t think he was looking.

So at that moment, instead of looking at him, I forced myself to keep my gaze trained on the outdoor seating area, watching everyone else mingle and farewell Max and Jada as well as my parents.

Regardless of what I actually felt for Zane, my pride was hurt and I insisted I would do my best to act as if I didn’t care one way or another if he was there or not. I continued talking to Brandon; not the best idea, but I was desperate to avoid talking to Zane.

“I can’t believe Max actually got married." He paused, and I could hear the humour mixed with faint disdain in his voice as he finished. "Damn. I never saw that coming; Max finally taking the plunge.”

I was never one to have an outburst or to ever be rude to people; that was Milan’s style and most definitely not mine. But with the way I was feeling, I didn’t feel level-headed around Zane right at the moment.

It was impossible. My heart was breaking, and there he was trying to strike up a conversation with me. All I could do was try to contain the erratic beating of my heart as I thought about what it would feel like to be in his arms again.

Although he was beginning to infuriate me, he was so darn desirable at the same time. Even though I knew I had to be crazy for wanting him the way I did, I’d never been able to stop my feelings toward him.

God, I hated how out of control he made me feel. I had to try and resist him. I had to. I curled my fingers into fists as I felt myself losing the battle of acting aloof. I whirled around to face him.

Big mistake!

I melted at the sight of him.
Damn, he’s gorgeous
. He wore a pair of denim jeans which hugged his tight arse and his crisp, lime-green shirt accentuated the colour of his green eyes. His shirt was open just enough around his neck for me to catch a glimpse of his smooth, tanned chest. I knew he had tattoos; I’d seen them numerous times before, but just knowing they were hidden behind a thin layer of fabric sent a kick of forbidden desire rushing through me.