Burned Hearts (39 page)

Eventually, he said, “It's not like you to brood. You're the silver linings type, remember?”

“I'm entitled.”

“Sure. But you're still not the type.”

“These are extenuating circumstances. I'm due some melancholy.”

“That's not melancholy. That's despair. Big difference.”

“Should I break out in song and dance?”

“You have a broken leg,” he pointed out.

“And a broken heart. So there.”

“He'll be back.”

“When? And what makes you so sure? Even you know that Dane's got to be mired in a dismal abyss neither one of us can fully comprehend.”

“Hey, I've been pretty messed up over you and Amano.”

“But you weren't the one to shoot us,” I reminded him. “There's
your
big difference. And we survived. Even bigger difference.”

“He'll pull it together, Ari.”

“I don't know.” My eyes squeezed shut to keep the waterworks at bay. “This doesn't feel right, Kyle.”

“Keep the faith. That's what you're best at.”

He took Amsel to the kitchen to feed him. I agonized a bit more, until I fell under the spell of pain meds and, yes, despair.

*   *   *

The next time I woke, it was to the sound of Amsel gurgling and making other silly noises. He'd clearly gotten over his unsettled state and was now oblivious to my anguish. My eyelids drifted open and I stared up at the ceiling.

I thought back to that horrific time in my life when Vale had kidnapped me and Dane had nearly killed him for it. I'd considered that a breaking point. I'd walked away.

What had I learned from that experience?

That I couldn't exist without Dane.

His presumed death had been even more detrimental to me. But I'd had a baby inside me to focus on. Now Amsel was in need of my rising above my own pain to tend to him.

So I
had
to exist without Dane.

Somehow.

I asked Kyle, “Who changed Kid, you or Rosa?”

“I did.”

Not
Kyle's voice.

My heart leapt into my throat. My head rolled on the pillow and I stared at Dane.

In an instant, the most important defining moment of my life returned to me. Kyle and Sean had been bantering over me in the bar of a Sedona resort, minutes before Sean and Meg's wedding ceremony had begun.

I glanced over my shoulder. And lost my breath.

The argument faded into oblivion as my pulse echoed throughout me, drowning out all other sounds, thoughts, everything.

In the corner up front sat two men, paperwork sprawled across their table. One salt-and-pepper-haired, distinguished looking, older. The other dark-haired and dressed all in black—jeans, boots, and a button-down shirt with sleeves rolled up to reveal impressive forearms. Late twenties, maybe thirty. He had a very mysterious air about him, and he was staring at me.

Right at me.

His onyx hair was sexily tousled as though he'd just rolled out of bed with a woman who'd enjoyed mussing the thick, silky-looking strands. His piercing green eyes held a hint of intrigue and a hell of a lot of
don't mess with me
. Contradictory signals that sparked my interest.

His face was a chiseled masterpiece. He had strong features with a stone-set jaw, balanced brows, not too thick, not too thin, and a nose that might have been punched a time or two, given the slight bump close to the eyes, but which still managed to look specially crafted to keep harmony with all the sculpted angles. A mouth that easily drew my attention, my gaze lingering on it until I caught myself.

All in all, he was devilishly handsome. Darkly beautiful.

It struck me that I would never consider a man beautiful, thinking it would undermine his masculinity. Not so with this one. He was beautiful and virile. Downright heart-stopping.

I felt a peculiar stirring deep within me. An innate reaction to his edgy perfection.

It seemed as though the blood moved a bit slower through my veins. Thicker, warmer. Molten.

My gaze lifted, our eyes locked, and I was riveted. I still couldn't breathe.

Something flickered in those hypnotic emerald pools of his. Something curious, like a warning to be heeded. Not menacing, but … definitely intimidating.

*   *   *

My breath was slow now, suddenly labored. I stared at Dane, seeing all the strength, power, determination that I'd noted in those first few seconds of meeting him.

Only this time, there was a warm aura surrounding him as he held our son in his arms and gazed lovingly at me.

“I—” My brain stalled out as myriad feelings rushed through me. Making the backs of my eyes prickle.

“Shh,” he said to me. “Let me say something.”

“I don't need words,” I told him as I stared at him settled in a chair pulled close to where I lay on the sofa, Amsel cradled close to his chest. “You're here. You have our son. There's nothing more I need.”

“But there's something you deserve,” he insisted. His emerald eyes glowed with affection and pain. An agonizing combination. “I'm sorry I didn't come home right away. I needed some time. I needed you to take some time to really think about what you saw the other night. I shot Ethan.”

“I actually didn't see it,” I said through my tears. “I dropped the mini and it cut the stream temporarily. I heard the gunshots and I had no idea who'd fired. There were a few petrifying seconds when I didn't know what had happened. If you were dead or alive.”

“Jesus. I'm so sorry.”

“Stan fixed the feed. I saw that you were alive.” I pulled in a shaky breath. “Dane. I lost you once when I walked away. I lost you again when I thought you'd died in the Lux explosion. I lost you just the other night. I can't—”

“You won't—”

“Ever lose you again.”

“You
won't
.”

“How can you guarantee that?” I asked as I choked on a sob.

Dane looked thoroughly devastated by my torment.

But he kept an even tone. “The FBI has everything, sweetheart. Everything I know, everything they need. I spent the past twenty-four hours with Nik and Qadir. The society is done, dissolved, no more. The Lux is mine and yours—no other investors. We'll open in the spring. Amsel will have a legacy. Our other children will have a legacy. It's done, Ari. The bad shit … It's
all
over.”

“You promise?” I quietly demanded as tears tumbled down my cheeks.

“Swear to God. And
this
is a promise that will not be broken.
Ever.
” He leaned toward me and kissed my forehead. “We won, baby.”

I stared at him for endless moments—minutes?—through watery eyes. I felt a shift inside me; embraced it wholly.

“We did it,” I finally said with great relief.

And smiled at my husband and our son.

 

epilogue

KYLE & ARI

six months later …

kyle

I officially hated weddings.

The one I'd been best man at nearly two years ago was where I'd first met Ari. I'd seen her a few times at the bride-to-be's house. Later Ari had been all business at the rehearsal dinner. And then she'd hunted down the groomsmen at the bar just before the ceremony was about to start at a resort here in Sedona.

She'd blown in with a stiff breeze. It'd been impossible not to notice her, all flushed skin, bright blue eyes, and sculpted legs.

I wasn't the only one whose attention she'd grabbed. Dane had also been there that night. So had Vale Hilliard. And some asshole with a diamondback tattoo, who'd later helped Vale and Wayne Horton to terrorize her on-site at 10,000 Lux.

Fifteen minutes in that bar had set a series of dangerous games into play. Regardless, I hadn't been able to convince Ari that Dane was the wrong man for her.

The next wedding I'd attended was hers. A small affair in their creekside backyard. Six guests total, plus Rosa. I'd thought that was pretty pathetic. Ari was a wedding planner, after all.

My third wedding in less than two years—
really, guys don't dig this shit
—was about the most absurd event imaginable.

The aisle had to be a mile long and was flanked by huge arrangements of red roses and deep-green leaves and white fluff. Lots of fluff. Candles galore. Like set the whole damn courtyard on fire, galore. Decorative lanterns hung from iron stakes of various heights along the perimeter, the gardens, the fountains. Clear twinkle lights had been wrapped around all of the tree trunks. There was fruity music that I supposed women found romantic. They all seemed to gush over the decorations and flowers and, yes, the harpist and pianist.

My gaze swept over the small conglomerations as they crossed to the event lawn and selected seats. Some attractive blondes. Several pretty brunettes. A couple of fiery redheads.

Yeah, it was time I dated again. I definitely had to get over Ari.

After all, this was her wedding.

Again.

“Time for the best man to perform his duties.”

I turned to find Tamera Fenmore, a leggy blonde with a sassy British accent, heading my way with a pearl-white smile on her face. She had big, tawny eyes and high, defined cheekbones. I'd put her in the knockout category and ask her to have dinner with me if I had half a brain.

“What do you say?” she asked as she straightened my tie.

Not the standard bow tie, but some fancy silk thing she made sure was tucked neatly into my vest. It was a formal black-and-white wedding. I felt as though I should be on a movie set with Pierce Brosnan. But Ari was finally getting the wedding of her dreams, so I couldn't complain. Too much.

“I think I can handle the redo,” I said of the nuptials. “If it makes Ari happy.”

“She's deliriously happy. Perhaps the tiniest bit tipsy, but what the hell. She's earned the right.”

I couldn't deny that.

“So,” Tamera continued, “Grace will be at the altar, too, just like at last night's rehearsal.”

Definitely a pretty brunette. She'd also been at the bar that fateful night I'd met Ari. Grace had been the one serving the tequila shots, as a matter of fact.

“You don't have to arrange Ari's monstrously long train or hold her bouquet. Grace will handle all that. But you do have to wipe the scowl from your face and pretend you're not annoyed she's getting married. Really, Kyle. She's already married, so…”

“I know, I know.” I cleared my throat, squared my shoulders, bucked up.

“Ah.” Tamera beamed. “Much better. You know, you're really quite handsome when you're not skulking about.”

“I don't skulk.”

“Oh, really?” She shot me a challenging look.

I laughed. “Fine. Whatever. Can we just, you know, get this over with?”

“No rush. This is Ari's big day. Guests are still filing in. The event staff members are having conniptions about, oh, everything, because they want absolute perfection. Dane's sipping scotch with his people. Ari's father is freaking out over being on such massive public display. All in all, I think we're doing just lovely.”

“Maybe I ought to say a few words to the two-time bride-to-be.”

“That would be sensational. Let me take you to her.”

There were two tents erected for the bridal party—one for the men, one for the women.

I stepped behind the magic curtain and found Ari admiring, in the full-length, three-way mirror, the back of the wedding gown she wore. The design was intricate pearl and crystal lacing across her bare back. The whole thing was way over-the-top, but I supposed that was part and parcel when you were marrying—
were married to
—a billionaire.

“Hey,” she said with a bright smile as she caught a glimpse of me in the reflection.

“Hey.”

Tamera left us alone. I had no idea where Grace was.

“So,” I said, “I hear you've hit the sauce already.”

“Just a little champagne.” It had turned her cheeks rosy.

“You look fantastic.”

“So do you.”

I shrugged. “I suppose.”

She laughed sweetly. “Seriously gorgeous.”

I had to skip over that. Time to stop reading too much—stuff that wasn't actually there—into everything she said. “I didn't realize you knew so many people. Six hundred guests. Seriously?”

“This is the short list. We didn't want to get too crazy.”

“Right.”

She laughed again. “A lot of them are Dane's associates, friends, acquaintances. People from the Lux. You know how it goes.” Her smile faded and her expression turned contemplative. “If you've noticed, Mommie Dearest isn't crashing.”

I eyed her curiously. “How'd you manage that? I think there was a wedding announcement in the
New York Times
.”

“There was.”

I shook my head. “I guess
normal
has officially slipped from your vocabulary.”

“Well … consider who my husband is.”

I couldn't come up with a rebuttal. So I said, “Tell me how you're keeping out the wicked Maleficent.”

“Ingenious of me, really. And Jackson. He managed to get the agent to dump her by threatening lawsuits. Then I jumped in. She's not a fan of babies, so I decided to introduce her to mine.”

“Oh, Christ. This ought to be good.”

“During a fashion show at the Royal Palms Resort and Spa,” Ari began, “where she was all dolled up with her socialite BFFs. I swept in with a VIP ticket Dane secured for me. Not only was poor little Amsel ‘ripe,' as you would put it, but his diaper leaked.”

She crinkled her nose. I resisted the urge to, just thinking of how this had likely played out.