The Trouble with Weddings

[Of Honor] 1

December

"I must say, Miss Dalton," the voice like smooth velvet made goosebumps erupt on her exposed upper limbs. "My grandfather made a poor decision on choosing red as tonight's motif. He clearly did not take into account how the colour could turn a certain lady into a siren. You, cara, are the very definition of temptation."

"Is that so, Mr D'Angelo?"

Try as she might, she couldn't keep the tremor from her tone. The man behind her had always affected her in a way. He knew that and exploited it every at chance he got. This time, it was expected, as it was every year.

Since migrating his empire's main office to the US, Matteo D'Angelo, held a Christmas party for the family. He picked the city and the theme for these events and (nearly) everyone complied with his antics. In their themed garb, they flew out to whichever city the party was being held in. This year was Snow White in New York – midnight black, blinding white snow, and traffic stopping red. Christian all but dragged her with him to one when they were 12, and she'd been a constant presence ever since. She'd even been dubbed an honorary D'Angelo by the many, many cousins she'd met – including Ryland D'Angelo.

"Stop harassing my best friend, Ry. You're gonna scare her away. I haven't seen enough of her recently."

Another voice, which of her current rescuer, triggered yet another response from her traitorous body. This time it was warm tingles that spread from the top of her head to the tip of her toes.

"Come off it, Christian. I was just teasing," came the reply of the other male.

Before Christian could retort, Brie turned around to face both men. A tiny gasp escaped her lips before she could control it. Who could blame her, though? Two of the most exquisite D'Angelo men stood before her, unaware of the full effect they both had on her system.

Christian wore the required red shirt, classic black pants and the requisite shiny Italian leather shoes. Ryland, on the other hand, chose a black shirt and accessorized with a red tie instead. Always the rebel, he tethered on the edge of semiformal by wearing dark jeans and attention grabbing bright red Chuck Taylor's. Both men before her represented majority of the D'Angelo men – dangerously good looking. Judging by the nearly identical smirks on both their lips, they damn well knew it.

Brie scowled. It was too early in the evening for either of them to be so annoying.

Christian pulled her into a tight hug before she could say another word. She breathed in his familiar scent of pine and peppermint before pulling away. However, the tight circle of his arms allowed no more than a few inches between them.

"Glad you could make it, Brie," he shot her that lopsided smile she loved so much. "I missed you."

She patted his arm twice, a gesture he knew meant that he should let go. Reluctantly, he did so.

"What? No hug for me? I got here first," Ryland opened his arms, a teasing glint in his eye.

Brie laughed before wrapping her arms around him as well. Too soon, or far too long by Christian's liking, Brie let go of Ryland. Then she stood on her tiptoes, looking over both men's shoulders. Even in six inch heels, they towered over her.

"Who are you looking for, Brie?" Christian took hold of her left elbow as she almost toppled over.

"You wound us, Brie," Ryland cut in. "The two hottest D'Angelo men are right in front of you yet your eyes search for someone else. Tell me who he is, Brie! If not Christian, tell me who else I have to defeat to garner your undivided attention!"