Sweeter Than Revenge (23 page)

“Hello?”

“Maria,” Anastasia boomed in her ear. “What time should we pick you up for dinner, darling?”

“Uh,…” Maria said, with zero idea what Anastasia was talking about.

“Didn’t that receptionist tell you I’d called?”

Maria hesitated, not wanting to get anyone in trouble for gross neglect of duty with David and, more importantly, not wanting to give up her evening of soaking and sulking for dinner with Anastasia.

“Well, never mind, love. What say we swing ’round at seven-thirty or so?”

“What, ah,” Maria began delicately. “What dinner is this, exactly?”

“Oh, you know. Nothing special. A dear friend wants to cheer me up a bit, what with all the ruckus. You looked like you could do with a little cheering yourself, which is why I rang you.”

“Oh, but I couldn’t—”

“Nonsense. It’s just a little dinner for me, and you have to eat, don’t you? So eat with us. Just a few close friends. Oh, but do wear something nice, love. Black tie. You know.”

Aghast, Maria pulled the phone away from her ear and stared at it, half hoping to see instructions for dealing with this demanding woman written on the side. “You want me to go home and get ready for a black tie dinner in the next—” she checked her watch “—fifty-five minutes?”

“I can come ’round early and help you with your makeup, if you’d like,” Anastasia suggested helpfully.

“No!”

There was a theatrical sigh, and then Anastasia’s cheery voice. “Well, then. You’d best move along, hadn’t you?”

Maria opened her mouth, with some half baked, half formed excuse on her lips, but then a click and the dial tone told her she didn’t need to bother. Cursing worse than before, she opened the car door, flung her purse and then herself inside and started the engine.

“Here it is, love.”

After driving for what seemed like forever down a tree-lined, gravel path, the limo rolled to a stop. Peering out her window, Maria saw an enormous sand-colored Tuscan villa-style house, so new she doubted the paint was even dry. New or not, it was a stunning house. The drive circled up to a courtyard, in the middle of which sat a working fountain made from a series of urns and pedestals. Colonnades ran in three sides around the courtyard and formed arches over the main entry. There was no grass, yet, and no landscaping around the house, but it didn’t matter. Maria couldn’t think when she’d seen such a showplace, other than her father’s.

“What a beautiful house,” she said, sighing.

“Think so, do you?” Anastasia said, undisguised glee in her voice.

“But are you sure this is the right place?” Maria peeled her gaze away from the house and turned to Anastasia and Uri on the opposite seat, both of whom looked smug and satisfied, like the cat that swallowed the canary and washed it down with a nice bowl of cream. “I don’t see any other cars anywhere.”

“Of course it’s the right house,” Anastasia said. “Don’t you see the lights inside?”

Sure enough, Maria did. The glow of interior lights lit the windows, inviting company and somehow promising a lovely time. Though she hadn’t wanted to come, Maria now found she couldn’t wait to go inside to see the rest of the house.

“Should we go?” Maria asked.

“Of course.”

Uri hurried out and opened the door for them. Anastasia got out first, her fluttery purple gown flowing behind her. Maria took Uri’s hand and stepped out, hoping her dress hadn’t gotten too wrinkled in the car. She’d never been to an impromptu you-stuck-your-foot-in-your-mouth-and-we-want-to-cheer-you-upblack tie dinner at a private residence before, but luckily she’d attended countless black tie events in her life and had a dress on hand. It was a wispy, off-white goddess gown that draped over one shoulder, dipped low in the front and in the back, and had a band of jeweled beading that ran right under her breasts and then wrapped around her waist to form a large X. For maximum goddess effect, she’d pulled her hair up in a pile of curls at the crown of her head and thrown on a matching jeweled headband.

Getting dressed, she’d wondered if she wasn’t being a little over the top—as if everything about Anastasia and her world wasn’t over the top already—but now she was glad she’d chosen the dress. Somehow it fit perfectly with this beautiful house—as though she’d slipped away for a beautiful night at a Mediterranean villa.

If only…

David crept into her thoughts again, and she banished him. He wasn’t here and wouldn’t be here. Not that she wanted him to be here, because she didn’t. Not if he didn’t love her.

They walked through the colonnade to the arched front door, which Anastasia opened.

“Anastasia!” Maria hissed, putting a hand on her arm to stop her. “We should ring the bell and—”

“Don’t be a ninny,” Anastasia said firmly, and the next thing Maria knew they were inside, standing on the checkered marble tiles and staring up at the vaulted, skylighted ceiling. “Come along, come along.”

Anastasia took her arm and tried to march her through the foyer, but Maria wanted to linger and stare at the arched doorways and strategically placed columns, to bask in the glow of the warm, dramatic lighting, to soak in the beauty. Pulling free, she drifted to the massive kitchen, where the exposed ceiling beams and weathered cabinets made it feel like a hundred-year-old Italian farmhouse, even as the high-tech appliances screamed twenty-first century.

Running her hand along the cool granite countertops and the backs of the wrought-iron stools alongside the counters, Maria wandered into the connected, oval-shaped dining room, the only area, as far as she could tell, that was fully furnished. Several candelabra marched down the center of an enormous carved table, and the candlelight glittered on the crystal and china. On the sideboard sat more food than fifty people could eat: cheeses, grapes, figs, olives, breads and thinly sliced beef, baklava and other pastries, pistachio nuts and more bottles of red wine than she could count. Through the arched floor-to-ceiling windows at the far side of the table, she saw the glittering blue waters of an enclosed pool with spa and splashing fountains, a year-round swimmer’s dream. Outside, beyond the pool, sat a large pond upon which several ducks floated.

Everything was so gorgeous Maria didn’t quite know where to look next. Turning away from the windows, only dimly aware of Anastasia and Uri, who were being unusually quiet, she moved to the next room. It was a living room, with more floor-to-ceiling windows looking out at the pool and the pond. Hundreds of tall, thick white candles flickered on the fireplace mantel, the low coffee table and the tables alongside the brown leather sofa and chairs. This was a scene for lovers, she realized, a beautiful alternate world where people could escape and sit and talk, make love on the colorful rug in front of the fireplace, or just lounge in silence and enjoy the serenity.

The funniest feeling fluttered suddenly, low in her belly. Frowning a little, she turned to Anastasia and Uri, who were standing side by side, clutching each other’s arms and looking like they were holding their breath.

“Whose house is this?” Maria asked them.

They didn’t answer. Instead they both looked to a point just past her shoulder, and she detected a movement. That was when the waking dream began, everything slowed down and the world as she’d known it shifted again. It took forever for her to turn her head to see what she’d known she’d see: David in a tuxedo, leaning against the nearest pillar and staring at her with those intense dark eyes.

“It’s my house,” he told her. “And yours.”

Chapter 20

Stunned into paralysis, Maria couldn’t say anything. Her senses still worked, though, because she was aware of David coming closer and his fresh, linen scent, and of the sounds of Anastasia whispering and tittering with Uri, and of the trembling that had begun with her knees and now spread to her entire body.

David stopped right in front of her, close enough for her to see the yearning—the naked emotion—in his eyes. “Hi,” he said, for her ears only.

“Hi,” she managed.

“Are you okay?”

The concern in his voice and on his face was too much for her, so, with movements that felt jerky and foreign, she turned her head and looked at all the blazing candles. “This isn’t a dinner for Anastasia.”

“No.”

Breath wouldn’t come. No matter how her chest heaved, or how hard she struggled, she just couldn’t get any air down her tight throat to where she needed it. Terrified that her foolish heart was leading her down the garden path again or, worse, that she’d pass out before she could find out for sure, she looked back at him and tried to speak.

“What is it, then?”

“A special night, I think.” Color bloomed over his cheeks, and his nostrils flared. Whatever he planned to say next was very important, obviously, but she wondered whether he’d be able to say it. Finally his mouth opened. “I’m really hoping it’s my first night in my new house with the woman I’m going to marry.”

“Oh, God.”

Just like all those silly women on all those stupid reality shows where the man picks and/or proposes to her, Maria lost it. Clapping her hand over her mouth, she laughed and sobbed, her shoulders shaking with the useless effort of trying to contain some of that emotion. Over in the corner behind her, she heard clapping and cheering. Distracted, David shot a quick glance over her shoulder, then looked back at Maria. Peeling her hand away from her face, he kissed it, and there were more joyful shouts from the peanut gallery.

David lowered her hand between them. “I need to get rid of these two. Will you stay right here? Wait for me?”

“Y-yes,” she said.

A hurried, happy smile flew across his face and was gone. With his thumb he stroked under her eye, wiping her tears. “Don’t cry, baby.”

“N-no,” she said, crying.

“I’ll be right back. Wait for me.”

“Okay.”

He hurried off, and she tried to pull herself together. Reaching into her tiny beaded purse, she found a tissue and blotted her eyes.

“Listen,” she heard David whisper in urgent tones to Anastasia and Uri, “thanks for your help. I can take it from here.”

“Oh, but, darling,” Anastasia whined, “you’re just getting to the good part.”

“I can take it from here,”David repeated.

“Well, fine. Fine,” Anastasia huffed. “You dohave the ring, don’t you?”

“Yes,” David hissed.

“Well, we’ll just say goodbye to Maria, and then we’ll be on our way.”

David’s harsh sigh reverberated off the vaulted ceiling.

“Maria.”Anastasia swooped in, and Maria hastily put the tissue back in her purse and threw the purse onto the sofa. “Best wishes, and you willcall me tomorrow and tell me all the teeny-tiny little details, won’t you?”

“Uh…” Maria said.

“Wonderful!”

Anastasia flung her arms around her and pulled her against that massive bosom for an eye-bulging hug. David came back, smiling and hovering just inside Maria’s line of sight. Laughing now, Maria pulled free and turned to Uri, who took both her hands in his.

“Best to you, darling,” he said in that James Earl Jones voice.

“Thank you, Uri.”

Maria hugged and kissed him, and then David, his gaze locked with hers, held his arm wide, directing Anastasia and Uri to the foyer. Ever the good host, he followed them. Their voices faded, and then she heard the door open and shut. David reappeared in the doorway.

“I’m back,” he said.

“Good.”

“Maria,” he began, coming closer. “I—”

He froze in his tracks and, scowling, looked to the nearest window. She followed his gaze and saw Anastasia and Uri standing outside, their hands cupped around their eyes and their faces pressed to the window, staring like kids peeking into a candy store. Shaking his head and muttering, David stalked over to the window, jerked it open and shooed them.

“Get the hell outta here,” he said.

They scattered as though they’d been caught batting a baseball through the window, and David watched them go. Only when they’d heard the limo doors shut, seen it pull away and its taillights disappear into the dusk, did David turn back to her.

“Let’s try this again,” he said.

“Okay.”

He didn’t move, didn’t say anything. They stared at each other across the distance of twenty feet, and she felt the weight of all their fears and doubts, all their lost opportunities and regrets.

He laughed shakily. “I’m really scared.”

She pressed a hand to her tight chest, wishing she had a magic spell to make it loosen a little. “So am I.”

“I think this might be easier if I touched you, Ree-Ree. How would that be?”

“That’d be good.”

Several long strides had him back in front of her and then she was in his arms and they were clinging and swaying. She threw her arms around his neck and settled against the long, hard groove of his body, finding the place where she belonged. Had always belonged. One of his hands buried itself in the pile of hair at the crown of her head, anchoring her cheek against his, and the other hand dipped low to the small of her back, pressing her against him.

“I’m sorry, Maria.” He cleared his hoarse voice. “God, I’m sorry.”

“I know,” she said, holding him tighter.

“I should’ve told you about the money. I just couldn’t stand the thought that it’d have anything to do with whether you want to be with me or not.”

“It doesn’t. It never has. I wanted you when you were a poor grad student. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember, but I just couldn’t believe it.”

“You should,” she said fiercely. “You should.”

“I’m not going to let my screwed-up thoughts or my parents’ rotten history ruin ourrelationship. Not ever again. Nothing’s going to stand in the way of our future together. Okay?”

“Okay.”

They stood like that for a long time, relaxing and refamiliarizing themselves with each other. After a while he turned his head and nuzzled her ear with his mouth. She shuddered, her body igniting.

“Can I tell you something?” he whispered, as though whatever he was about to say was much too intimate to speak out loud.

She nodded, too choked up to manage anything comprehensible.

There was a long pause while she felt his rib cage expand and contract with several deep breaths. “This is really hard,” he said on a serrated breath. “I’ve never said it before, and my parents never said it to me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, heartbroken for the lonely, unhappy child he’d been. “But you can say it now. You can do it.”

He took another huge, shuddering breath. “I love you, Maria. You know that, don’t you?”

Crying again, losing her battle to remain calm, regal and beautiful on this special night of all nights, she could only nod because she didknow, and somewhere deep in her heart she’d alwaysknown.

“And that I’ve loved you since I first laid eyes on you?”

She nodded.

He kissed her temple and she could feel him relaxing a little, loosening each time that scary four-letter word passed his lips. Shifting, he ran his hand down over her butt, cupping her and bringing her up against his straining arousal. Pausing for a minute, he kissed temple, cheek and neck, and then his mouth slid back to her ear and he was whispering again.

“Did you know I did a really lousy job living without you?”

She shook her head, smiling, tears still rolling down her cheeks.

“Yeah, well, it wasn’t pretty.”

Laughing now, she let him go only long enough for a couple of quick wipes at her eyes.

“Everything I’ve done since then, I’ve done to get you back, even if I was too stupid to know it. I made that money because of you. I came back because of you. I built this house to give it to you.”

“No.” Shaking her head, she tried to pull back enough to look at him, but he didn’t seem to be ready for that because he wouldn’t let her go. She settled for tightening her arms and whispering the way he had done. “Daddy gave me my trust back today. I didn’t even care because I didn’t have you and you’re all that matters. I don’t want money from you or a big house or jewelry—”

He tensed and loosened his grip enough for her to see his flashing eyes. “I need to give those things to you—”

“No, you don’t,” she insisted. “The only thing you ever need to give me is your love. That’s all I want from you.”

He stared at her, his eyes wide and wondering, as though he couldn’t believe his massive good fortune. “Ah-hh, Maria.” He touched his lips to her forehead, resting there. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”

“Was there something you wanted to ask me?”

She felt him smile against her, and her eyes drifted closed.

“I’ve been wondering…”

Maria froze and held her breath, terrified she’d miss a syllable of what he was about to say.

“Will you live here with me? Help me decorate this big house? Have a few babies?”

“Anything else?” she prompted.

“Yes.” He took a huge breath. “Will you m—”

“Yes, I’ll marry you,” she said, laughing.

He laughed, too. “Feel free to think about it. It’s a big decision.”

“I don’t need to think about it.”

“Good.”

He kissed her then, a joyful, laughing kiss full of promise and meaning. By the time they broke apart she was breathless with lust and anticipation and, judging from the wicked glint in his eyes, he felt the same. She was just beginning to look around, wondering where the steps to the second level and the master bedroom were, when he tugged her hand, towing her behind him back into the dining room.

“This calls for a celebration,” he said, turning to an ice bucket standing in the corner by the sideboard. “How about some champagne?”

“Champagne?”she whined, clenching her thighs together around the deep ache inside her. “Now?”

He chuckled, turning his back to her as he uncorked the bottle. “Don’t be impatient,” he said in an infuriatingly casual tone. “We have all night.”

“Fine,” she snapped. “Let’s make it quick, though.”

Still laughing, he turned back, handed her a beautiful crystal flute full of fizzing champagne, and raised his own glass high. “I want to toast our future and—”

Feeling more than a little sulky, Maria raised her own glass, and that was when she saw it: a big ring, sunk to the bottom of the glass and no doubt getting sticky with sugar. Shrieking, she lowered her glass and started to stick her fingers in it, when David, clucking, snatched the glass away and held it at arm’s length, far from her grasping hands.

“Oh, sorry,” he said with exaggerated concern. “I forgot that you just need—what was it?—oh, yeah. You just need my love.”

“Wha—” she said incoherently.

“You don’t need a house or jewelry, you said.”

“Give me my ring,” she cried.

“But you just told me you don’t need—”

“Give me my ring!”

Laughing, he lowered the glass and gave it back to her. She grabbed it out of his hands, seeing nothing remotely funny about the whole situation. Making no pretense of indifference, grace or civility, she flew back to the champagne bucket, held her hand over it, and dumped the contents of the glass into her hand before all that awful champagne ruined her precious ring.

Maria cried out. There it was, a dripping, flashing, emerald-cut canary diamond, five carats at least, with smaller triangular diamonds on either side. David took the ring out of her trembling hand right before she would have dropped it, and reached for her ring finger.

“I take it you’ll make an exception or two here or there,” he said.

“Yes,” she said happily as he slipped it on. “Now can you please show me the master bedroom in my new house? I want to make sure I like the bed because we’ll be spending most of our time there.”

“Damn straight.”

She squealed and they both laughed as he swung her up into his arms and headed back toward the foyer.