Sweet On You

chapter Eighteen



Daniela slipped into sassy red heels that were going to kill her feet in an hour. But Nico would love them, and he was taking her to the opera tonight, so she figured he deserved some sort of reward.

He hated opera. He hadn't said as much, but she could tell it wasn't his thing. She'd grown up with it. Of course, her brother had grown up with it too, and he hated it, so maybe it was a guy thing.

Nico didn't talk about his childhood—ever. But if she had to guess, she'd have said knife fights in alleyways were the evening entertainments he enjoyed, not opera.

She went downstairs, swinging her purse. Whatever his childhood, he'd made the most of himself. He was successful, determined, and caring, though he'd deny that.

She liked him.

It was sweet now, but she wasn't sure how long it'd last. She couldn't tell how he felt about the fact that she was buying the building. Since the day Chris Ludlow had consented to sell her the building, they'd had a tacit agreement not to discuss it. Would his male ego get over her winning? She wouldn't be sure until she signed the paperwork and it was hers. He said he hated to lose—did he like her enough to overcome that?

Tonight wasn't the night to think about that. One day at a time, she told herself as she reached the first floor.

"Hello, Daniela."

She shrieked, whirling to find her brother sitting in the front room. His tie was loosened and the first couple buttons of his shirt were undone. His feet rested on a table in front of him, and he held a tumbler with whiskey in his hand. He'd turned on the fireplace next to him.

"Tony?" She walked slowly into the room, not believing her eyes. "What are you doing here?"

He smiled but it held no amusement. "Not happy to see me?"

"Actually, no, I'm not." She put her hands on her hips. "Did Marley know you were coming out?"

"No."

"So..." She shook her head. "Why are you here?"

"Someone has to stop this spring break episode you and Marley have going."

She glanced at the glass in his hand. "How much have you been drinking?"

"I've been wondering the same about you."

"Oh, no, you don't." Pointing a finger at him, she shook her head. "You aren't allowed to come into my house and talk to me like I'm a five year old who can't take care of herself."

"I can when you've been acting like a child." He swirled the ice in the glass. "And this is my house, actually. I'm renting it for you."

Tossing her hair over her shoulder, she glared at him. "Next you'll tell me you're cutting me off from my own money."

"If that's what it takes to get you back on track."

She gasped. "You bastard."

Exhaling, he rubbed his eyes, as though he were exhausted. "Daniela, don't act like I'm the bad guy here. I just want what's best for you."

"You have no idea what's best for me."

"I know that a soup kitchen isn't it." He crossed his arms. "Ever since you moved to San Francisco, you've run unchecked. I've come here to get you back on path."

"I think I can manage my life without your help."

"That's not the impression I get. As far as I can tell, you're determined to destroy everything we've worked so hard to build."

"I didn't realize you were in the kitchen, slaving over the hot oven with me."

"That's not the point, Daniela, and you know it."

His tone was harsh and hurt. She blinked back sudden tears, trying not to remember how he used to call her Dani. She cleared the nostalgia from her throat. "What is the point?"

"You have to accept the Food Network deal." He leaned forward, every bit the aggressive businessman his clients paid a fortune for. "It's unprecedented. It'll make you set for life. Then if you want to fritter your life away—"

"I'm frittering my life away now," she cried.

"Stop being so melodramatic." He set the glass down and reached for the briefcase next to him. "I brought the paperwork for the network—"

She crossed her arms. "I'm not signing anything."

"As your representative—"

"You're fired."

That stopped him cold. Then he shook his head and spoke to her in that paternal tone that made her want to throw something at his head. "Stop acting like a child, Daniela."

"I'm not acting like anything. I'm dead serious. I don't want you to represent me anymore."

"Who are you going to get then?" he asked, his voice rising.

"No one. I don't want to be a TV star. I just love to bake."

"Are you going through an early midlife crisis?"

She narrowed her eyes. "If you ask me if I'm PMS'ing, I'll throw something at you. Something heavy. Like the bookend you got me for Christmas last year. Or maybe the ugly vase my birthday flowers came in. Remember that one?"

He shook his head. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"No kidding, because you didn't even order the flowers yourself," she yelled. "Somewhere along the way you stopped being my brother and just became management. Well, I'm done with management. I'd like my brother back."

"Daniela, you're being nonsensical."

"Antonio, you're being an idiot." With one last glare at him, she stormed out.

She heard his heavy footsteps come after her. "Where are you going?" he demanded.

"Out."

"Are you going through some sort of belated rebellious period? Because you hiding things is growing old."

"I'm not hiding anything," she lied, thinking of Nico.

"What about the man you're seeing? Assuming that's why you're going out dressed like that."

Whirling around, she glared at him with her hands on her hips. How had he known? Was Marley spying on her? "Be careful."

He glared right back. "You're the one who needs to be careful. You look like—"

"Like what?"

"Like a harlot."

She burst out laughing. "Harlot? Have you been reading Chaucer?"

"I'm glad you think it's funny." Anger made his features harsh. "You know Nonna is probably turning over in her grave over how you look."

"Nonna would be the first one to cheer me on." She would too. She'd have said Brava, Daniela! and told her to feed Nico tiramisu. Nonna thought tiramisu was a great aphrodisiac. "I know exactly what's going on here, and it's not going to work, so knock it off."

"Who's the guy?" her brother persisted.

"None of your business." She lifted her chin.

"It's absolutely my business. I'm your brother."

Daniela snorted.

"What does that mean?"

"If you don't know, why don't you have your secretary clue you in? Or maybe Marley, since you're using her as your mole these days." She strode to the door, yanked it open, and walked outside.

She was still flushed and fuming when her cab pulled up to the opera house. Not even seeing Nico leaning against the façade in front cooled her ire.

In fact, seeing him in his tux had the opposite effect on her, rising her temperature up even more. He looked dashing—the suit fit him perfectly—but there was still that air of danger that turned her on.

Sights set on him, she strutted up the steps, grabbed him by the lapel, and kissed him hard.

His hands gripped the back of her dress, holding her to him. When she lifted her head, he said, "Am I being punished for something? If I am, tell me what I did so I can do it again."

She wiped her lipstick from his lips. "You haven't been bad yet, but I'm hoping later."

"Then I can't wait for the opera," he murmured, hand on her back as he escorted her inside.





Daniela lay sweating, face down on Nico's bed, her feet dangling over the edge. The only things she still had on were those uncomfortable heels.

But they were so worth the pain. She smiled tiredly against the silky sheets.

Nico rolled onto his side, against her. He pushed her hair aside and kissed the nape of her neck. "You want to tell me what had you so angry earlier. I don't think it was me this time."

"Amazing, isn't it?" She sighed and turned to face him. "My brother Antonio decided to make a surprise visit."

"How long since you've seen him?"

"Three months."

"But you aren't happy."

"He's come here to manage me." She turned onto her back and stared at the ceiling. "He thinks I'm out of control."

"Are you?"

"Only around you," she joked. Then she sobered. "But maybe I'm supposed to be a little out of control. For the first time in forever, I feel like I'm being myself. Tony doesn't know who that is, and he doesn't care to find out."

"I like you the way you are." Nico nuzzled her.

She smiled and turned into him. "I like me that way too."

"Control is an illusion," he said. "Once you realize chaos is what runs the world, you can use it to your benefit."

"My grandmother always said love runs the world."

His face set into a grim mask. "Love doesn't cause catastrophes and death."

"No, those are just parts of living." She cupped his face. "Love dictates how we react to them though."

He stared at her. She wondered what he was thinking. She wondered what she thought—if she wanted him to love her.

The thought caused a hitch of excitement in her chest. "Can I stay tonight?" she asked impetuously.

"Are you sure?"

She could tell he was thinking how she never stayed. But she didn't want to go home and face Tony—not when she felt so happy and hopeful for the future. She wanted to stay and revel in it. "I'm positive," she said.

He gathered her closer. "I'd love you to stay."

"Good." She kissed his shoulder, hopeful. The building was hers—maybe Nico would be, too.