Secrets of You

by Mary Campisi

  She shook her head. If only it were that simple. Four months ago, she’d thought features in newspapers and magazines would bring her limitless joy. The exposure, the commissions for unique designs, the money that would follow. What could be greater than that? She thought the answer was nothing, until she met Ash Revelin. He’d changed everything.

  “So what then? Did that boyfriend of yours try to talk you into ditching the wedding gown for jeans and a Rolling Stones T-shirt?”

  She would not cry. Tears served no purpose other than to make a person look weak and out of control. She was neither. “Actually, there won’t be a wedding,” she said in a perfect imitation of one who could care less if there was a wedding or not.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Quinn leaned forward, leaving her no choice but to look at him. Why couldn’t they have fallen for each other? It would have been so easy then—best friends becoming lovers. Of course, if it hadn’t worked out, she’d have lost her best friend, and she’d never had one of those.

  “Arianna,” his voice dipped, “tell me.”

  She almost relented on her vow against tears and let them come. But what if once started they wouldn’t stop? What if they poured out years of grief and sorrow and pain until there was nothing left of her but shriveled bits of disappointment and regret? “Here.” She pushed the note toward him. “Read this.”

  Quinn snatched the note and scanned it. “What the hell does this mean?” He tossed it onto the table and cursed again. “He dumped you.”

  Sad but true. “He dumped me.”

  “This is crazy. The guy’s nuts about you. He wanted to marry you a month ago.”

  She should have run off with him then instead of worrying about a silly wedding dress—a dress that would never be worn now. “Obviously, he’s changed his mind.”

  Quinn poured another drink, took a healthy swallow. “He’s not going to get away with this. I’ll have a talk with him and find out what’s going on.”

  “No, don’t.” What would Quinn do? Say, Would you please reconsider and marry Arianna?

  “There’s got to be an explanation. He doesn’t seem like the kind of guy that would bail on something like this.”

  Poor Quinn. He always wanted to take charge and control the outcome. Maybe he’d fall in love one day and realize some things could not be controlled. Like who you loved or who loved you back. She worked up a small smile and said, “I thought you didn’t even like him.”

  He shrugged. “I know we didn’t hit it off at first, but I had to be cautious about a guy who walks into your life on a Tuesday and proposes on a Friday. That says player to me. But I saw how he looked at you, how he treated you. The guy loves you, which is why this makes no sense.”

  She really didn’t want to talk about it anymore. There would be enough questions from her clients who were all excited about the upcoming wedding, and Quinn’s sister, Annie, who insisted on making a photo collage from the pictures Ash gave her. It would have been a small, intimate wedding, which in some ways made the breakup even more painful.

  “I’ve got a guy who specializes in ferreting out the truth.” Quinn covered her hand with his and said in the gentlest of voices, “He’s very discreet and very thorough.”

  “A private investigator?”

  Quinn nodded. “Exactly.”

  “No.” She couldn’t bear to learn Ash Revelin was a lie; maybe he had another family, a child, a wife…another fiancée. It was better not to know. She had secrets she’d never told him because they didn’t matter. But maybe they did. Maybe they always would.

  Chapter 2

  Two and a half years later

  There was an urgency in Pete’s voice that stayed with Ash from Illinois to Pennsylvania. His brother had never been one for idle chitchat. He liked to get to the point and cut out the bullshittery, as he called it. Ash appreciated that about Pete, though there were times when a little tact went a long way. But when Pete called the other night, there had been an unfamiliar cautiousness in his voice when he asked where Ash was and when he planned to return home.

  Home. Interesting word. Ash hadn’t had a home from the second he sent Arianna the note that changed their lives forever. He’d stopped off at his place long enough to stuff two saddlebags with clothes and camera equipment and then he was on his Harley and on the road. He’d made it back to Philly exactly eight times; for the boys’ birthdays, two Christmases, and the big Fourth of July bash Pete held every year. Aside from that, the road and his bike were his home.

  Not what he’d planned, certainly not what he’d hoped for, but he’d finally learned that you didn’t always get everything you wanted. Hell, you didn’t even get what you needed. But aside from the pain in his heart that would never quite heal, Ash had found a semblance of peace. And acceptance. Two and a half years ago he’d been selfish, spoiled, and caught up in his own hubris. He’d played cat-and-mouse games with women for years and when he finally slowed down enough for a woman to catch him, he discovered she was the one playing the game. It was all in Pete’s file, but the hell of it was, Ash hadn’t cared. He’d still wanted to marry Arianna despite her lies—how pathetic was that? It didn’t really matter though, because Pete had put an end to those delusions.

  And now his brother needed to see him. Immediately. What could he possibly want?

  When Ash entered the building an hour later, he wished he’d asked to meet at Pete’s house. He didn’t like remembering the last time he’d been in this building and the fact that it bore his name on it—his real name, not the one Arianna had believed was his—made it that much worse.

  “May I help you?” Then, “Ash!” The young woman’s full lips broke into a wide smile as she hurried around the desk and threw herself into his arms. “It’s wonderful to see you!”

  “Megan.” Ash gave her a quick hug and released her. “Still dating that big Texan?” Megan Toller had been Pete’s assistant since she graduated from Rutgers six years ago. Intelligent, capable, and blue-eyed-brunette gorgeous, Pete said she knew almost as much about him as his wife, which was probably not something he should admit.

  She shook her head and shrugged. “He wouldn’t leave his daddy’s ranch and I wasn’t moving to Texas. It’s okay; he was too possessive anyway.”

  Megan didn’t seem too torn up about the breakup. Smart girl. Caring too much had its own baggage. Ash smiled at her and lowered his voice, “What’s with the urgent powwow? Is everything okay?”

  The blueness of her eyes paled. “Not really,” she whispered. And then, “Poor Pete.”

  No one had ever used poor and Pete in the same sentence. This wasn’t good. Before he could ask more, the door to the executive office opened and the man himself appeared. Ash’s assumption of not good turned to terribly wrong. Pete’s usually perfect hair was mussed, his shirt wrinkled, his expression drawn. Ash moved toward him, gave him a big hug and said, “You look like crap.”

  “Yeah,” was all he said. “Thanks for coming.”

  Ash followed him into his office and closed the door. “What’s going on?”

  Pete sank into the chair behind his desk and waited for Ash to take a seat. Ash had been in this exact chair over two years ago, when his life imploded and he’d been forced to give up the only woman he ever loved. Two seconds passed, then ten, until finally, Pete cleared his throat and said, “I know it’s not a holiday or one of the kids’ birthdays.” He picked up the four-leaf-clover paperweight, traced the leaves. “And I know you don’t usually—”

  “Pete. What the hell’s going on?”

  His brother’s gaze flitted from the paperweight to Ash. There was something in his eyes Ash had never seen before—fear. “Caroline’s threatened to divorce me.”

  “What?”

  The fear spread to his cheekbones, stretched across his lips, and pulled down his chin. “She says I’m too controlling.”

  “Huh.” That was like saying the pipes on a Harley made noise. Caroline had been marri
ed to Pete enough years that his obsessive tendencies to manage the outcome of pretty much every situation, should not come as a huge surprise. “And she didn’t suspect you had an issue when you insisted the soloist at your wedding not speak for twelve hours before the service so she could rest her vocals?”

  His lips twitched, then flattened. “I couldn’t risk her voice cracking on the high notes. I thought it was common sense on my part.”

  “Uh-huh.” The guests who heard about it had called it something else—crazy. But Caroline had been enamored with her soon-to-be-husband’s concern for her welfare and had oohed and aahed over his over-solicitousness. Seems she wasn’t oohing or aahing much these days. “So, what happened?”

  “She kept talking about going back to school for her doctorate. I was fine with that, even encouraged her.” He ran both hands through his hair and sighed. “But they were night classes. All of them. Do you know what kinds of things can happen to a woman alone at night in the city? I offered to hire a driver and she said I was suffocating her. And then it all blew open and she accused me of driving my own brother away. I lost it then, said I was only protecting you.”

  “You told her what happened?”

  Pete nodded and his expression turned into pure misery. “Everything. Too much, obviously.” His voice dipped, turned raw. “That’s when she said if I didn’t make things right for you, she’d file for divorce. Said she couldn’t respect a man who’d done what I had and the only way to fix it was to get you and Arianna back together.” The fear had dissipated from his eyes, leaving only shadows of uncertainty and a desperation that focused on life and his family. “I can’t lose her.” And then, “Besides, I may have been wrong about Arianna Sorensen.”

  That was the last thing Ash had expected. Or wanted to hear. Two and a half years of agony to protect the woman he loved and now his brother—the one who tossed threats of exposing and ruining Arianna—admitted he might have been wrong? As in a mistake? When had Pete ever confessed to a mistake? Never. Ash sucked in air and when he was sure he had control of his voice, he said, “How so?”

  “After I forced you to break it off and you left, I started second-guessing my decision. I had a guy follow her, just to prove she was no good for you.” He shrugged when he saw the disbelief on Ash’s face. “I know you think the use of private investigators is horrible, but a woman who made up who she was? Who stole from her own family? I really thought she was trouble.”

  “And now you don’t?” He hadn’t cared what the report said. He’d loved her and none of the rest mattered. She’d loved him, too. He knew it. And he’d destroyed that love with a few sentences.

  “I don’t think so. At the time, I thought she was using you somehow, maybe she found out who you really were, or maybe she was just plain trouble waiting to happen. But I was wrong. She hasn’t dated since you left, unless you count that Burnes guy, who I think is more friend than anything else. There was some other man, tall, dark, kind of sinister-looking, but it was only a dinner.”

  Quinn Burnes. Maybe he’d hooked up with Arianna, been there in her time of need and all that. She’d always said they were only friends, but more than one “only friends” situation had turned sexual. And what about the sinister dude? Who was he and why was she with him? Did it matter? No. Ash had killed what they’d shared and he had no right to question what she did or with whom…

  “I was wrong to tell you how to live your life, even if my intentions were pure. I just didn’t want to see you get hurt.” Pete sighed. “But it doesn’t matter, does it? The act of living, day in, day out, is what puts us at risk. If we disengage from that, well, what do we have left but empty shells waiting to die? I could lose Caroline because I forced you to give up Arianna. How ironic is that?”

  Ash stuffed his hands in his jeans pockets. Ironic? Yes. Even more so because of all the women he could have had, Arianna had been the only one he’d ever loved, and while there might have been other women, hell, there had been other women, there’d been none like her. There would never be anyone like her. “You know, maybe if I’d given you reason to think I could make good choices on a semi-regular basis, you might have acted differently.” There was truth in those words, and it had taken Ash over two years to accept them.

  “Get in touch with Arianna. Give it another try.” Pete worked up a half-smile that flopped. “My marriage depends on it.”

  Of all the scenarios Ash had created of seeing Arianna again, Pete counseling him and playing cheerleader had not been one of them. It was actually quite absurd. “Pete. Listen to me. I broke off with her ten days before the wedding. I disappeared without a reasonable explanation. She is not going to listen to anything I have to say.”

  “There hasn’t been anyone since you. She’s a beautiful woman, highly gifted. There’s only one reason she’s still alone.”

  Ash’s chest hurt, a real physical pain. Was it from thinking of her with someone else or hearing she hadn’t been with anyone since him?

  “I don’t think she’s gotten over you. Go see her. Forget the report. No one ever has to know it existed. I’ll have Megan shred it as soon as you leave.”

  “It’s not that simple.” She’d never have him. He’d betrayed her.

  “Yes, it is, and if someone like me can see it, surely you can.” Pete stood, came to the other side of the desk, and put his hands on Ash’s shoulders. “Do this for me. At least try to remedy the horrible mistake I made.”

  Chapter 3

  Arianna placed the onyx bracelet next to the matching necklace. They were framed in sterling silver. Classic. Chic. There was something about this stone that spoke of mystery and intrigue—and unfortunately reminded her of Alexander Maldonando, a man she’d trusted and who’d only used her to get to his estranged wife. What a mess that had been. All these months later and she still didn’t like to think about the dark handsome man who appeared one day asking about jewelry for his sister—onyx, of course—and ended up almost killing her best friend, Quinn. Some days it seemed long ago; Quinn and Eve were married, had a baby, a life together.

  And Arianna? Life had frozen for her. Alexander was only another bad choice in a string of bad choices—all men-related. The worst, of course, was the man who’d deserted her ten days before their wedding. Ash Revelin. She clutched the polishing cloth and sipped in air. Damn that man.

  “Arianna?”

  That voice. His voice. She looked up and there he was, standing just inside the door, not twenty feet away. Longer, leaner. His dark hair almost shaggy, his skin deep bronze, his face thinner, making his cheekbones and jaw stand out in an almost too-pronounced manner. He looked tired and guarded and his eyes—oh, those brown eyes held her, stroked her, made her want to run to him and— Then she remembered; she hated him. “Hello, Ash.” Amazing she could speak, more amazing still, her words were coherent.

  He moved toward her, those eyes still on her, devouring her with heat and need, and something else? Regret? Sadness? “I bet the last person you expected to walk through that door today was me.”

  “A true understatement.” Were they really going to engage in idle chatter when she wanted to scream, Why did you leave me? Where have you been all this time? And then, Why did you come back?

  He’d reached the counter…less than two feet separated them. She ignored the pounding in her chest when he placed his hands on the top of the glass display case—strong hands, graceful hands, hands that had touched her in ways no man ever had before. “My brother needs me here.”

  “Oh, I didn’t know you had a brother.” Another sad testimony to their relationship.

  “I do. His name’s Pete.” She stared at him. These were not the words she’d imagined him speaking if they ever saw one another again. Not that she’d ever planned to see him again. Men who ditched their fiancées didn’t usually look them up again. They ran. They hid. They remained hidden. Those eyes burrowed into her soul, called back old feelings she’d buried long ago.

  “I have no reason
to ask or even hope for another chance, but if you give me one, I promise I’ll never leave you again.”

  Was he serious? “It’s a little late for that.”

  “I love you.” His voice dipped and created a swirl of heat in her belly. “I’ve never stopped loving you.”

  His lips twitched and pulled into that sexy smile she remembered. He wanted time? She hadn’t been able to get out of bed for two weeks after he’d disappeared. He wanted to prove himself? Quinn had been the one to pack up the wedding dress and drive her to a therapist who ordered pills that fogged her memory. He loved her? He had no idea what that word meant.

  “Well—” She turned and opened the drawer behind her. “Love is a powerful thing.” She lifted the polishing cloth and gripped the gun that lay beneath it. Quinn had insisted she learn to shoot the darn thing, had taken her to the range, taught her how to handle it, load it, shoot it. “Such a powerful thing.” She snatched the gun from the drawer, cocked it, and pointed the barrel at Ash Revelin’s cheating heart. “Almost as powerful as hate.”

  “Hey, hey.” He held up his hands and said in a soft voice, “You really want me dead?”

  She cocked the trigger. “Not dead.” She smiled and aimed at his left shoulder. “Just wounded. And scarred, with a stiffness that will remind you of this moment for the rest of your life.”

  “Arianna.”

  He said her name as though he thought she weren’t serious. Well, she was. She could shoot him and not even feel guilty about it. He’d caused her enough pain and scarred her so deeply, she’d never heal. She wanted to make him feel that kind of pain—intense, consuming.

  “I’ll bet Quinn gave you that gun. Probably took you shooting, taught you to defend yourself, and once again, played the hero.”

  “He didn’t leave me behind.”

  He winced as though the comment hurt. Good, let him hurt, let him bleed his misery, because she didn’t care. Not one bit. She hated Ash Revelin, hated him with the same overwhelming passion that she’d once loved him. She’d thought he was different from other men, thought he’d love her until he drew his last breath. But he’d been just like the rest and she would never make the mistake of trusting him again.