Pure Seduction (Chamberlin Brothers #1)

1. Noah

Noah

HARRY CHAMBERLIN WAS a bastard. A cold-hearted, manipulative bastard who was still managing to run my life from six feet beneath the ground.

If that seemed harsh, it was his own fault. He was a man of little kindness or compassion; my father’s relationships had usually revolved around two things, business and intimidation, and if you were one of the unlucky ones, it was a mix of the two.

I, unfortunately, fell into that category.

I’d even go out on a limb and say I had my very own “special” category.

One that included threats and blackmail.

One that had driven me from my hometown of Chamberlin, California so many years earlier, and had kept me from coming back until now—the day of his funeral.

His wake, actually. I’d missed the funeral.

I’d say that was an accident when my mom asked, but it had been one hundred percent intentional.

The idea of standing by Harry’s grave and watching the people of this town pretend they were sad to see him go was too much for me to stomach.

Especially when all I wanted to do was celebrate his passing.

Because to know Harry was to hate him—that was a fact.

One he’d worked really hard to cultivate. So why deny him that pleasure now?

I stared through the black iron gates of the property and noted the cars filling the parking area and long drive that led up to the main building of the family business—the winery. It seemed as though everyone in town was behind those gates today, and once again I was standing outside of them.

Nothing had changed, from my situation to the winery inside.

The rust-colored gravel still complemented the olive trees on either side of the entryway, and the opulent fountain at the front entrance bubbled and sparkled with fresh water under the sunlight.

It was beautiful. But that was the Chamberlin way. Always putting up a good facade.

I drummed my fingers on the roof of my rental car and then made my way over to the gate to push it wide open.

This was a bad idea for so many reasons, none of which included the sudden pain in my chest. But I’d be damned if I let Harry give me a heart attack.

He’d already ruined my life once before.

The last thing I’d do was give him the satisfaction of ending it too.

“I hate you,” I said on the off chance that bastard was still floating around here somewhere, and then I inched the car up the drive at a snail’s pace and pulled into an empty spot.

I sat there for a minute, staring at the main building of the winery, the villa.

It was a Spanish-style structure with terra cotta tiles and smooth adobe walls, and I reminded myself that I just had to get through the next couple of days and then I could leave.

I could finally be done with this place and all of the ghosts and memories that resided inside.

After counting back from ten, I was about to push the car door open when a rap of knuckles on the window jolted me in my seat. I turned to see Ryan—one of my brothers—with his hand on the roof, peering inside, and I hit the button of my window and watched it roll down.

“As I live and breathe, if it isn’t my long-lost brother Noah Chamberlin. Long time, no see, man. You plan to get out of the car sometime soon or just sit out here all day?”

In a flannel shirt, worn jeans, and muddied work boots, Ryan had a smear of dirt across the dark stubble of his face, and I remembered many days looking that way myself.

But I’d tossed aside my jeans and flannel for a more polished look these days, choosing to spend my time on a computer as opposed to a tractor. Ryan, however, was the vineyard manager now, and it was clear he’d just come from the vines.

It seemed there was no taking a day off, even to mourn the loss of his father.

“I was getting there,” I said. “I was just reminding myself that I wouldn’t burst into flames the second my foot touched holy ground again.”

Ryan chuckled and straightened to give me room to climb free, and once I was out of the vehicle, he pulled me into a hug.

“I don’t smell any smoke,” he said, sniffing the air around me. “It’s good to see you, really. I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“To his funeral?” I slipped my hands into the pockets of my pants. “You know better than that. I needed to see this with my own eyes.”

“Well, you’re a little late for the funeral—that was an hour ago.”

“Oh, I don’t mean the actual burial. I’ll take your word for that. I mean everyone pretending to care that that asshole is finally gone.”

“Yeah.” Ryan nodded and crossed his arms. “There was some pretty epic acting out there today.”

“I bet. Looks like the whole town’s here.”

“Just about. But that’s got as much to do with your return as it does his departure.”

“My return? No.” I shook my head. “I haven’t returned. I’m here because you and Bree said Mom asked for me, that’s all. The second I know she’s okay, I’m leaving. I have a job and a life to get back to across the ocean.”

“That might be the plan—”

“That is the plan. There’s no other plan.”

Ryan shrugged. “If you say so.”

I narrowed my eyes, but as was Ryan’s way, he became quiet and contemplative.

“Well, you should go on in. Mom will be happy to see you.”

As I began to walk toward the front door, I realized Ryan was no longer beside me. I turned to see him heading off in the opposite direction. “Where are you going?”

Ryan looked past my shoulder to the villa and shook his head. “Not in there. I don’t want to be anywhere near the place when you walk through the door. All those tongues wagging? No thanks. I’m gonna go clean up. I’ll see you in a few.”

Great, and here I thought I’d have an ally, someone to act as a buffer. But I should’ve known better. Out of the four of us, Ryan was the least likely to cause a scene. He was the calm, reliable one.

“That’s cold, Ryan.”

“That’s self-preservation. How do you think I lasted this long without you? Good luck in there.”

Yeah, I had a feeling I was going to need it, because while Harry had sent me away years ago, it had been my decision to stay gone. His plan had been to educate me in the ways of the world— his world—but in order to do that, he’d destroyed mine.

He’d made me leave the only home I’d ever known and the one girl I’d been able to picture forever with, and there’d been no way I was going to fall in line after that.

No way I was going to learn to run his business and then return as his prized stallion, only to be mated off to the highest pedigree around.

Instead, I’d done the complete opposite.

I’d stayed abroad and begun work at a rival winery in Tuscany, and ever since then I’d made it my life’s mission to stick it up Harry’s ass.

The only problem with that was, by sticking it to him , my mom had gotten caught in the crosshairs, and so had my relationships with my siblings.

Something I deeply regretted to this day.

I buttoned my suit jacket and made my way up the front steps, where I knocked on the large wooden door and steeled myself against whatever reception I was about to get.

A second later, the door was pulled wide by a woman in a black dress and a white apron.

She offered a polite smile and then ushered me inside.

“May I take your jacket for you, sir?”

I smoothed my hand over the buttons but shook my head. Now that I was here, the jacket felt like an extra layer of armor, and for now I thought it best to keep it in place.

“Very well. The other guests are in the tasting room and out on the back deck. Would you like me to lead the way?”

“No, thank you. I’ll be fine. I’ve been here before. I’ll just head on back.”

She gave a clipped nod and then disappeared behind one of the doors that led to the kitchen.

Ah, money—it really could buy you whatever the hell you wanted.

Cooks, landscapers, someone to answer the front door so you didn’t have to.

It was something I’d never felt comfortable around, even as a child.

That hadn’t changed in the years I’d been gone.

If anything, my discomfort level had intensified.

I checked my watch and wondered if it was too late for me to claim that my flight hadn’t arrived on time. But knowing that was easily checked up on, I resigned myself to my fate and made my way down the long hallway toward the sunroom where the tastings were held.

I could hear hushed voices begin to carry throughout the house. Whispers, quiet laughs, a feigned sob here and there, but when I finally stepped through the doorway, all pretense of being there to mourn the late Harry Chamberlin vanished, as every single pair of eyes in the place landed on me.

It seemed Ryan had been right: news of my arrival had reached the good citizens of Chamberlin, and Harry’s departure was suddenly the last thing on any of their minds.