by Mary Campisi
“True.” His gaze narrowed. “But it would have to be pretty well planned. We should probably look at the people from your town. Can you make a list of who might do this?”
“I really can’t think of anyone who…” A face popped into her brain, so fast and hard it made her dizzy. Vanessa? Did she hate her enough to blackmail her?
“What is it? Did you think of someone?”
Arianna let the words slip through her lips. “My sister.”
He stared at her, obviously struggling for a comment. “Oh. Well, I guess we’ll put her on the list.”
“I can’t really think of anyone else who would want to do me harm. Even my sister, as much as she blames me for her circumstances, could have tried to blackmail me years ago and she didn’t. ”
“My investigator is very discreet. He’s a one-man operation, so no co-workers sharing information.” He rubbed his jaw, stared at the letter as though the answers were there, begging for interpretation. “After I read the file, I locked it in my credenza until Ash returned. Then I gave it to Megan to—” he looked up, his eyes bright, his voice fierce “—destroy.”
“Who’s Megan?”
“My secretary. She’s had a crush on Ash for years. I think she took his kindness for interest. What if she didn’t destroy the file? What if she kept it and is blackmailing you?”
“Do you think she’d do that?”
“There’s only one way to find out.”
***
“Pete, I really don’t have time for a meeting right now. Can’t it wait.”
“This will only take a few minutes.”
Ash sank into the chair opposite his brother. He’d been on his way to meet Ian Debenidos and take a look at the framed pictures for the reception area of the new building. If he kept moving until he was exhausted, he might not think about her or what he’d said. Had he actually been the one to break things off? What was wrong with him? Did he really think he’d ever stop loving her? Of course not. But he couldn’t live like this—lies and pretending. How did a person build off of that? Have a family with so much dishonesty swirling around?
“Someone’s trying to blackmail Arianna.”
That brought him around fast. “What?”
“It’s true.” Pete toyed with the four-leaf-clover paperweight. “I met with Arianna just now and she showed me the letter.” He opened his desk drawer, removed an envelope, and slid it toward Ash. “See for yourself.”
Ash slipped the letter open and read. “Fifty thousand dollars? Who would want to blackmail her?”
Pete’s hand stilled on the paperweight. “Somebody who had something to gain by seeing her ruined. Or somebody who wanted to make sure Arianna didn’t get something they wanted.”
“It might help if you had an idea who the somebodies and somethings are.”
“I think I do.”
“And?” All he wanted was a name and then he’d find a way to confront the bastard.
“I think it’s Megan.”
Ash laughed. That was the most ridiculous, off-base conclusion he’d ever heard. “Megan?” He laughed again. “She couldn’t bully a fly.”
“She’s crazy about you.”
“Me?”
“Don’t tell me you didn’t know.”
“Listen, Pete. It’s you she’s crazy about. She talks about you all the time, how she’s head over heels about some guy who deserves better, who isn’t being treated right…you fill in the blank.”
“Did she ever mention my name?”
Ash blew out a breath and laughed again. “Of course not. She’s not ignorant. But she sure as hell implied a lot.”
“Yeah, well, the implying without the name was intended for you. Megan is in love with you, has been since the first time she spotted you walking in the office. What was that, five, six years ago.”
“She was dating that football player from Tennessee.”
Pete shook his head. “There was no football player.” He pointed at Ash. “You were always the guy.”
“How do you know that?” Pete couldn’t be right. It made no sense. “We’re friends. That’s all.”
“And you could be even better friends if Arianna weren’t in the picture.”
Ash scrubbed his hands over his face. “You do know Arianna and I are done, right?”
“You’ll never be done.”
How could he sound so certain? Had Arianna admitted something to him, a truth she hadn’t been willing to share with Ash? He stared at the letter. Megan? Blackmail? The thought disgusted him. He’d tried to be nice to her, make her realize she shouldn’t settle for someone who wasn’t worthy of her. Little had he known she’d been holding out for him. She’d played him, banked on the soft side of his emotions. “Bring her in here.”
“We have to have a plan, no shooting from the hip like the Wild West.”
“I do have a plan.”
“Okay, it’s your show.” Pete buzzed Megan, who appeared seconds later, a smile on her face, a notebook in her hand. “Have a seat.” He motioned to the chair next to Ash and waited while she adjusted her skirt and crossed her legs, a movement that revealed a lot of tanned leg.
Ash turned to her, a hint of a smile on his face, and said in a casual voice, “Pete and I were having a discussion and we need you to tell us which one was right.”
She laughed. “You’re asking me to get caught up in a sibling battle? That could be dangerous.”
“You’re a big girl. We think you can handle it.” Ash rubbed his jaw and waited.
“Sure. What’s the question?”
“Who’s the guy you have a thing for?” When she paled and darted a glance in Pete’s direction, Ash continued, “You see, I think it’s Pete.”
“Pete?” she sputtered. “Of course it’s not him.”
Pete slapped a hand on the desk. “That’s what I told him, but he refused to believe me. You know Ash can be stubborn when he sets his mind to it.”
A half-smile inched across Megan’s face, fell flat. “I guess.”
Ash shook his head and turned to her. “But Pete has this insane idea and I mean it’s certifiable crazy.” He paused. “Can you guess who he said you have a thing for?” She shook her head, kept her eyes on her hands. Why was she picking her nails? Was she nervous? “Well, Pete here says you have a crush on me.” Megan paled to paste, then blushed. She did not, however, respond.
“Megan?” She lifted her gaze to his and he spotted the truth in those blue eyes: damn, but she did have a thing for him! Which meant she was most likely the one trying to blackmail Arianna.
“She makes you miserable.” Megan leaned toward him, touched his arm. “You left because of her. Do you know what that did to Pete?” And then in a pained voice, “To me? She’s no good for you, why can’t you see that?”
Why hadn’t he seen that he was the one she was after and not Pete? “Megan—”
“You told me it was over with her; you sat in the boardroom and told me that. Can’t you just give me a chance? I’ll show you what it means to be loved,” she paused, dipped her voice low, “what it means to be cherished.”
Pete cleared this throat and stood. “Excuse me.”
He left the room, leaving Ash to deal with Megan’s misplaced affections. And the blackmail note. “You don’t know Arianna.”
Megan rolled her eyes and flung her long hair over her shoulder. “Please. I know all about the Ariannas of the world—cold, arrogant. Bitches. She thinks she’s better than everybody, but she’s the one who got pregnant and stole from her own parents, isn’t she?” Her eyes lit up, her voice grew more animated. “And then to act all high and mighty like she’s even worthy to be in the same room as you.” Those eyes narrowed, glittered. “She’s going to get exactly what she deserves.”
He’d thought Megan a wholesome, kind-hearted young woman who’d made the mistake of falling for his brother. Obviously, he’d been wrong on all counts. Calculating. Conniving. Cruel. Those terms better suited the Megan wh
o’d just revealed herself. “You mean by blackmailing her?”
Her jaw twitched. “What are you talking about?” It twitched again.
“Blackmail. You know, when you threaten someone with information you plan to expose if they don’t give you something you want, usually money.” He tapped a finger against his lips. “Usually lots of it. Say, $50,000. Do you like that number?”
She huffed and sprang from the chair. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
Oh, but she did, and that was why she’d begun working her way toward the door. An escape route, no doubt. “A person could do a lot with $50,000. Don’t you think?”
“This is ridiculous. If you ever want a real relationship, call me.” She’d reached the door and had a foot in the hallway when Pete blocked her path.
“You tried to blackmail Arianna.”
“Pete, I admit I don’t like the woman, but blackmail? Do you think I would do that?”
“I didn’t think you would.” He held up a manila folder. “Until I found the file I asked you to destroy. And—” he reached in his trouser pocket and pulled out a pink cell phone “—pictures in your phone of Arianna, her shop, even her apartment. I’ll bet if I searched your computer I’d find the blackmail letter, too.”
“You can’t prove anything.”
“Don’t be so certain.” He tapped the manila envelope against his thigh. “The man who provided this information is very thorough. Maybe I should add your name to his list. And maybe, I should invite your parents to dinner. They’re going to want to know why you aren’t employed here anymore.” He rubbed his jaw, stretched a smile across his face. “I guess I could tell them you needed more of a challenge, or I could say I suspected you of trying to blackmail my brother’s fiancée. If you come clean now, I’ll let you leave and we’ll let it go. If not, you won’t like what’s going to happen. Well, which will it be?”
***
Arianna waited for Ash outside of his condo. Pete had called to tell her that with a bit of prodding, Megan had confessed to the blackmail note. Seems she fancied herself in love with Ash and believed she’d make a better partner than Arianna. Needless to say, she was out of a job and if she tried to come near Arianna for any reason, Pete would press charges.
“You’ve got to stop setting up camp outside my place. The neighbors will think you’re a groupie.” Ash stood a few feet away, a smile on his face. A big smile, filled with warmth. And love? Maybe.
Her lips twitched and she stood, closing the distance between them. “Maybe I am a groupie.”
“Hmm.” The smile spread.
“Can we go inside? I have to talk to you.”
The smile faded. “Sure.” The warmth in his voice evaporated in the space of that one word.
She wanted a chance to make things right before it was too late, the way it had been with her father. Arianna followed Ash inside and he’d barely closed the door before she blurted out, “I got pregnant when I was a teenager. My father couldn’t accept it. I was his favorite.”
The words tumbled out, short and choppy. “He threw me out. I stole his car, $8,000, and ran away with the baby’s father.” She sipped air, struggled to catch her breath and pushed on before she lost her nerve. “I had a miscarriage shortly after. The baby’s father gave me the rest of the money and took off, said he couldn’t be tied down. My father refused to let me come back; I was all alone with no home and no skills. I took a class here and there, made things up when people asked me questions about myself. It was easier to lie than tell the truth.”
She shrugged, clasped her hands together. “One day I ended up in Philly and fell in love with it. I got a job, started taking classes, and eventually finished my degree.” Ash stared at her, said nothing. “Okay, that’s the truth I couldn’t tell you. Now you know.” She backed away toward the door, distancing herself from the only man she’d ever loved. Sadly, she hadn’t realized the importance of honesty until it was too late. He didn’t reach out, didn’t ask her to stay… “Good-bye, Ash.” She turned and gripped the door handle.
“Stay.” He was behind her, pulling her against him, his mouth on her neck. “I love you. I want a life with you.”
She covered his hands with her own. “Say it again. Please.”
“I love you.” His tongue made tiny circles behind her ear. “I want a life with you.”
“Yes.” She breathed, opening her heart, pledging her soul. “Yes,” she said again as his hands inched along her body. Arianna turned and stroked his jaw. “I’ll never keep the truth from you again. I promise.” He cupped her chin with his fingers, eased his tongue inside her mouth—slowly, achingly perfect. She flung her arms around his neck, pulled him closer. “I love you, Ash Lancaster.”
“We have too many clothes on.” He reached between them and began unbuttoning her shirt. “Too many buttons,” he murmured, planting a trail of kisses along her collarbone.
She laughed and jerked his shirt from his jeans so she could feel skin. “Maybe you should pick out my wardrobe.”
“Maybe I should.” He eased her skirt off of her hips, unhooked her bra and let it slide to the floor. “Starting and finishing with these—” he brushed his fingers over her silk panties “—and heels.” He kissed her long and slow, his hands cupping her breasts, trailing along her belly, slipping into her panties.
“Oh, Ash.” She murmured against his lips, arching toward him. Only Ash could create the burn inside her. She needed him. Now. She worked his belt open, then his zipper and yanked down his jeans and underwear.
He slid the panties down her legs. “Baby, I can’t wait.”
She cupped his sex. “Then don’t.”
Ash lifted her in his arms, wrapped her legs around his waist and held her gaze as he entered her with one swift thrust. Arianna moaned and eased her tongue between his lips, sucking, stroking, devouring. Their moans mixed and blended together as she rode him, hard, harder, desperate for the pure pleasure only he could give. Ash met her passion, thrusting into her, bold and wild, until she couldn’t take another second of his torment.
“Ash!” She jerked against him and burst into a million pieces of spent pleasure. She clung to him as he buried himself deep, stroked, plunged, and filled her—wet, hot, complete. He cradled her against his chest as his body shivered with the aftershocks of his climax. Making love with him had always been intense, but now, with the past open between them, it was explosive.
“Let’s go to bed,” he murmured. “I do some of my best work there.”
She nipped his ear. “I’m counting on it.”
Ash did not disappoint. Their second joining was as fierce and frantic as the first, but in bed with the benefit of a mattress. The third time making love was smooth and easy like good bourbon or the perfect piano chord. Arianna lay with her head on his chest, the beat of his heart calling to her, calming her. Thirty years with him would not be enough. She wanted to wake each morning to that smile, move through the day with the thought of him buried in her heart, and fall asleep at night next to him—safe, cherished. Loved. This was what Quinn had meant when he’d told her complete honesty was necessary when you loved someone. He’d been right.
“Sleeping?”
She brushed her lips over his chest. “Not yet.”
“Hungry? I can whip up an omelet and serve you in bed.”
“You’re going to spoil me.” She ran her fingers down his thigh. “I’m not ever going to want to get out of this bed.”
He laughed. “I would not consider that a problem.” His voice dipped, softened, made her stomach flip-flop. “You deserve to be spoiled. You don’t have to be in charge all the time, with all of the answers. We’re a team.”
“A team.” She closed her eyes and breathed in his scent. “I like that.”
“Good.” He stroked her hair, sifted it through his fingers and said again, “Good.”
Ash really did love her. They really were a team. And teams worked together, not solo as she’d done
for so many years. He’d given her the gift of love, forgiveness, and second chances. And he’d given her one last glimpse of her father—that, she would cherish forever. “Thank you for the pictures of my dad.”
“You’re welcome. When you’re ready, I’ll tell you about my time with him. He was a good guy, just lost and hurting, like me. That’s probably why we got along so well.”
He was probably right. “Ash?” She lifted her head, met his gaze. “Would you go back to Endicotte with me? I’d like to introduce you to my mother, tell her who you really are and what you are to me.”
He traced her lips with his finger. “And what am I to you?” he asked, his voice deep, filled with emotion.
“That’s easy.” She planted a soft kiss on his mouth, met his gaze and let him see the truth. “You’re the love of my life.”
***
If Ash and Arianna were going to start hosting get-togethers for Quinn Burnes and his family, they’d have to buy more furniture. Or move into Arianna’s place. Or maybe they could take a look at one of those rambling older homes like Quinn and Eve’s. Maybe on the same street. Right. He might have to get used to the idea of the man and his opinions, but distance was key. Like a city away. He and Arianna would have to talk about that, set some ground rules, starting and ending with “Quinn Burnes isn’t your number one confidant—your future husband is.”
Future husband. It couldn’t happen soon enough. He patted the box in his jeans pocket. After dinner, before he served the cheesecake, would be the perfect time to spill his heart and his intentions to the group. He was doing this for Arianna—and because he wanted these people to trust him and understand he wasn’t walking away this time. Or ever again.
Ash stirred the sauce, a marinara that complemented the spinach and mushroom ravioli he’d made the other day. Arianna had fixed the salad earlier and slathered garlic and butter on the bread—as per his instructions and with a few comments of her own—such as how she didn’t realize balsamic vinaigrette dressing did not always come from a bottle. He smiled. She was brilliant and talented and beautiful, but she was not a cook.
“Can I help with anything?”
