Page 1 of Heart's Temptation

PROLOGUE

Giovani

I weaved through the wine cellar, not because I was drunk, although I soon would be, but because my heart was broken. The shattered pieces lay at the feet of the only girl I’d ever loved.

Looking at the rows of bottles, I searched for the right vintage, one that spoke to the empty shell I identified with. Perhaps something heavy to drown my sorrows in. I stopped in front of a bottle of Amoré and while the word meant love, the label had wine droplets on it that reminded me of blood. That would do just fine.

Grabbing two bottles, I sat down at the tasting table and removed the corks. Even the hollowness of my heart couldn’t hold back my appreciation for the ruby-red liquid as I poured it into the tapered wine glass.

I was mesmerized by the dark swirls that melted down the glass into thick legs. In my deadened state, those wide rivulets left by the wine were reminiscent of my bleeding heart.

I played back the events leading up to me drowning my sorrows in the Vitale cellar, asking myself how I’d missed the signs that led to this moment.

I was late for the state championships. Marko was on the field, the star quarterback. I watched as he pulled back his arm and threw the ball. Even as it hovered, fans watching just knew it was going to be a winning toss. The crowd—myself included—held its breath while the ball made its way down, down, down the field to land safely in the arms of the wide receiver. He bolted the few remaining feet into the end zone with the winning touchdown.

My attention transferred to Nicolette who was at the sidelines cheering for our team. Her short skirt rose with every bounce. Her slim muscular legs were on full display for anyone to see, and see they did. I stalked down the aisles offering threatening looks left and right until I was behind her on the sidelines. Reaching for her ponytail, I tugged her back.

Her look of surprise quickly shifted into a huge grin.

“We won!” she crowed.

I covered her mouth with mine, delving my tongue inside and nipping her lip before pulling back. “Yes, we did, and it’s time to celebrate.”

A flash of indecision passed through her beautiful green eyes.

“Of course,” she answered dutifully.

“Come on, Niki.” A cheerleader grabbed her arm, expecting her to join the rest of the group, who were storming the field, to celebrate with the players and coaches.

I gave her a look, and she quickly released Nicolette’s arm.

Gripping Nicolette’s ponytail once again, I dipped her head and snaked my tongue in her mouth, claiming her as mine before I released her.

“Go join your team.” I turned her around and smacked her ass. Her pupils were dilated when she glanced over her shoulder at me.

Mine!

My cock thickened at the sight of her tight ass bouncing as she ran out onto the field and threw herself into Marko’s arms. He tossed her into the air effortlessly and placed her on his shoulders.

I chuckled at Marko’s caveman antics. A teammate passed him the trophy, and he held it aloft. Niki added her hands to the trophy. Camera bulbs flashed as he slowly turned for the photo ops. That image of the last time I saw her would be forever etched in my memory…

We were the state champions and it appeared as if fate was on our side. Not the teams, but mine, Marko’s, and Nicolette’s, or so I’d thought. I chugged back the wine and poured another glass.

My father stepped out of the shadows, his eyes glittering in the dim light.

“I see you’re stealing my wine again.” His words held none of the threat they had when he first caught me, four years earlier, breaking into the Vitale wine vault and helping myself.

“Sorry, Papa.” My sentiment held none of the conviction it had the first time, either.

Sitting down opposite me, he regarded me with a thoughtful expression. “You’re having girl troubles.”

My eyes lifted and gazed into his older, much wiser ones, with an awe that only he inspired in me. He always knew what was going on and many times, my brothers and I had wondered if the man had some type of telepathy power.

“She’s gone, Papa. What should I do?”

He placed his hand on top of mine. At once I felt the heat and strength that pumped through him flow into me, even though his hand merely rested on top of mine. I vaguely wondered how many times that hand had pulled a trigger and killed someone. His father, our grandfather, had expanded our legacy and my father had protected it with his life, preparing us boys to take over and build on the back of what they had created and sustained.

My proclivities for wine and booze combined with my ability to sweep women off their feet, had me as Papa’s first choice to take over the clubs and wine empire, placing my quiet, introspective younger brother by one year, Fausto, in charge of the shipping operations.