The Bridal Chronicles
Page 13
He stared at her, shaking his head, then yanked his conservative paisley tie loose. “What’s come over you, Anna?”
Oh, how to explain that when a heart is broken, everything else seems pretty darn inconsequential? But her father would never understand that; he knew nothing about lost love. All he knew about was banking. Money. Status.
All of the things she didn’t want to rely on to make her way in the world.
“I guess maybe I’ve grown up, learned how to be independent. Whatever the reason, I’m not going to let you manipulate me any longer. I want to be a wedding dress designer, not a banker.” She looked right into his eyes. “I need to follow my dream, Dad.”
He blinked and stared at her, then ran a hand through his hair, making the perfectly combed gray strands messy. “This is very important to you, isn’t it?”
She nodded. “I thought you knew that.”
“I did, sort of. But… well, for you to stand up to me like this…” He pulled his tie even looser. “I guess I needed you to do that to prove how important this bridal designer thing was.”
Was that what this was all about? Growing a spine?
Thank heaven she’d somehow managed to do that. “You’re a pretty hard man to stand up to, you know,” she said, a hint of defensiveness in her voice.
He inclined his head, a ghost of a smile hovering on his lips. “I know. And I’m proud of you for finally doing it.”
Bright, shining hope soared in her. “Proud enough to graciously let me go my own way? I’ll do it either way, but I’d like to have your blessing.”
“Anna, my girl,” he said, his eyes glowing with what looked like… pride? “You’ve become quite independent and headstrong. I like that in a woman.” He let out a heavy breath. “I guess I have no choice. If you want to be a wedding dress designer, be a wedding dress designer. I learned from your mother that dreams are important to follow. I’ll have a heck of a time finding someone to fill your shoes at Sinclair Banking, but I’ll have to try, won’t I?”
Stunned, Anna fell back a step. “You’re going to cut me loose from Sinclair Banking?”
He shrugged and held out both hands, palms up. “I guess I am. I’m proud of you, Anna.”
His words melted a cold place inside of her and relief gushed through her. She’d stood up to him and he’d backed down. She was free to pursue her dream.
And while that was a welcome, long-awaited-for miracle, combining it with her heartbreak over losing Ryan’s respect—and who knew what else—made her feel shaky and upset. “Thank you,” she said, sinking down onto the bed. “I don’t think I could have taken anything less from you right now.”
He hunkered down, sincere caring glowing in his eyes for the first time in recent memory. “What’s wrong?”
His apparent concern reminded her how much she needed a shoulder to lean on right now, no matter how unlikely and unexpected the shoulder might be. So she took a deep breath, said a silent prayer that her father’s new attitude was genuine, and said, “I met a man.”
He hesitated, then rose and lowered himself onto the bed next to her. “Why don’t you tell me about it.”
She looked around, wondering where to start. She cleared her throat, and then haltingly began to talk. Eventually she worked up her courage, and the story about Ryan came tumbling out, the whole thing, from how she’d met him to how he’d cut her from his life just two hours ago. When she finished talking, she let out a shaky breath.
Her father stood and paced around the room, then went over to the window and looked out, his hands shoved in his pants pockets. Dead silence reigned in the small hotel room.
He turned around and faced her. “So, do you love the guy?”
Trust him to cut right to the core of the matter and ask the difficult questions. In the face of his brutal query, she had to answer honestly. “I… do.”
But I shouldn’t. She rubbed a hand over her eyes, trying to erase Ryan from her brain, trying to make this as easy and as pain-free as possible on herself. The truth was, she’d blown it with Ryan, and how she felt might not matter in the least.
He snorted and shook his head. “Then what’s the problem?”
She sighed raggedly. Trust her father to oversimplify the situation. Everything was black or white with him. She rose, fighting off the tears that had plagued her since Ryan had crushed her heart into tiny pieces and she’d walked out of his office. Cold reality settled down upon her.
Ryan didn’t love her. Couldn’t love her by his own admission. She lost the battle with her tears. Pressing her hand to her mouth, she turned away from her father, ashamed at her lack of control, something he’d always prized in himself.
Her father’s voice jerked her back to reality. “You love this man. I’ll ask again. What’s the problem?”
She swiped the tears from her cheeks. “He doesn’t love me, Dad.”
“How do you know?”
She wheeled around. “He called me a rich, snooty princess. That doesn’t sound like love to me.”
Her father moved closer and touched her damp cheek. “People do strange things when they’ve been hurt. I think you should fight for him. I wish I had done that when I lost your mother.”
Surprised, she looked up quick enough to see regret shining in his eyes. Realization dawned. “Why, you still love her, don’t you?”
He nodded slowly, looking away, his mouth turned down into sad frown. “Yes, I do. But I was too stubborn and proud to fight for her when I needed to, and now it’s too late. I’ve lost the only woman I’ll ever love. I don’t want you to have to live with the regret I do.”
She looked at her dad again, and what she saw amazed and touched her. Standing before her was a human, vulnerable, fallible man who, even though he went about things in a wrong-headed way, hurt inside just like everybody else. His pain over losing her mother, and the fact that he’d shared it with her, cut into and remolded her perceptions of him.
She touched his arm. “Thank you for sharing that with me. I had no idea. I’ll think about what you’ve said, all right?”
He nodded, then swiped a hand over his face, rubbing his eyes. He looked worn-out. “I’m registered at the hotel. I’m going to go to my room and make some calls, and then maybe later we can get together for dinner, all right? I’ve heard of a great restaurant in the Pearl District.”
She walked him to the door, her mind overloaded, numb.
He awkwardly tugged her into his embrace. “I’m glad we worked this out.”
“Me, too, Dad.” She kissed his rough cheek, savoring their newfound closeness, hoping they’d reached a turning point in their relationship. She suspected she was going to need his shoulder in the future. “I… love you, Dad. We’ve had our problems in the past, but I want us to make a new start.”
He kissed her cheek, his whiskers rubbing her jaw. “I want that, too.”
He left and Anna walked over and wearily sank down onto the desk chair, almost unable to believe that the man who had just left the room was her father. Apparently her finally standing up to him had brought forth a stunning change within him and, hence, in their relationship.
Everything in her life had fallen into place.
Except Ryan. Dear, wonderful, exasperating Ryan. She looked over and saw Nayr sitting on the bed. On shaking legs, she stood and moved over to pick him up. She pressed the soft little guy to her chest.
Her father’s advice echoed through her brain.
I think you should fight for this man.
That he was still hurting over the loss of her mother’s love deeply touched her and graphically illustrated the pain of lost, unfought-for-love.
A pain that she felt deeply right now, an ache she wasn’t sure would ever go away unless she took her father’s sage, spoken-from-experience advice.
Her father’s regret-tinged voice rang in her head again.
Don’t make the same mistake I did.
And then she heard Ryan telling her that she had thrown
herself into a career designing wedding dresses, a symbol of one of the most romantic, love-filled events in any woman’s life.
He’d pointed out something she’d wanted to ignore to stay emotionally safe: she was a romantic at heart. Her choice of a career proved that, just as he’d said.
And she did believe in love. She always had. She’d simply stifled her beliefs to keep her heart safe from the pain she’d always experienced in love.
Was she strong enough to let herself really feel love, embrace it?
And now, fight for it?
The icy-blue eyes Ryan had turned on her after he’d discovered her real identity appeared in her brain. She shivered. What if she failed and he looked at her that way again? A dull ache settled in her chest, snatching her breath away.
But not her nerve. What had Ryan said?
Sometimes we have to face our fears.
Yes. He’d taught her that. And the lonely, barren look in her father’s eyes when he’d talked about losing her mother’s love had shown her what could happen if she didn’t fight for love, if she didn’t face what scared her.
She’d stood up to her father and had taken her dream by the tail. Now it was time to go after another dream, one that had remained hidden inside of her, the victim of her fears.
It was well past time to go to battle for love.
Chapter Eleven
After Ryan asked Anna to leave his office, he ignored the regret carving an abyss in his heart and ruthlessly immersed himself in work. He held a meeting with his department heads, made a few phone calls and scouted a location for a new store.
Long after the dinner hour, he returned home, exhausted, a dull hollowness he hated growing inside of him.
He halfheartedly ate a bowl of canned soup, more because he needed to eat rather than because he was really hungry. Brushing away the significance of not having a raging appetite, he sat at the counter, watery bowl of soup in front of him, and looked around his kitchen.
His empty, impersonal kitchen.
As if he had new eyes, he noticed the room didn’t seem like a very homey place. With its bare counters, chrome-accented appliances and lack of d<5cor it looked like he’d never even prepared a meal here, much less dropped even a single crumb on the floor. But now, after Anna had been here, lighting up the room with her presence, the kitchen looked sterile. Cold. Vacant.
He snorted under his breath. Damn. That’s what he got for inviting a woman over.
Unable to stop his train of thought completely, he went back to Anna.
On cue, hot anger roared back to life inside of him. She'd lied to him, played him for a fool. But what really cut him to the core was the kind of woman she’d proven herself to be, one who manipulated others to get what she wanted.
His gut burned.
Thankfully he had a day full of meetings tomorrow to take his mind off her. He needed to regroup and work his tail off. That had always been his salvation; his job wouldn’t fail him.
He dutifully ate his soup, then washed the bowl out and put it in the empty dishwasher, intending to lose himself in the work he’d brought home. The sales reports would keep him busy long into the night, ensuring that he’d sleep soundly, untormented by dreams of sweet-scented auburn hair, brown eyes and a smile that made his knees weak.
Before he could make his way to his laptop, the doorbell rang.
Frowning—who would be visiting this late?—he headed to the front door. Maybe his neighbor needed help with Max—
His thoughts were cut off when he opened the door and saw Anna standing on the other side.
Surprise and pleasure ricocheted through him.
She looked… wonderful. She wore a short, light blue clingy dress and a snappy pair of black sandals that highlighted her toned curves and got the blood moving around his body. She’d pulled her auburn hair up into a half bun that showed off her stunning bone structure and vivid brown eyes.
Unfortunately he had the absolutely stupid urge to pull her into his arms, hold her close and never let her go, despite the anger still smoldering inside of him.
After what she’d done, after he’d discovered the kind of manipulator she’d turned out to be, he shouldn’t be so damned happy to see her.
He crammed his happiness into a ball and ignored it.
Anna wasn’t a part of his life any more. He’d been dumb as hell letting himself get involved with her in the first place.
Regular working girl. Yeah, right.
She smiled tentatively. Nervously. “Hi.”
He nodded, trying to ignore how awkward and apprehensive she looked. He failed. He still hated making her unhappy. Go figure. “Hello.”
She shifted on her feet and bit her bottom lip. “Uh, can I come in?”
His first instinct was to say no and slam the door. He’d spent the whole day trying not to think about her; the last thing he needed was to have her here, messing with his senses, making him foolishly want her.
But the truth was, the uncomfortable, anxious look on her face nailed him right in the heart. What the hell. He let out a heavy breath, stepped back and made a sweeping gesture with his hand. “Come on in.”
She stepped through the door, and her scent hit him like a solid wall of flowers—light, sexy. All Anna.
He swallowed and closed the door, feeling warm, wondering if there was something wrong with the air conditioning in his apartment.
Get a grip. All he had to do was remember that she was a rich princess who’d lied. Manipulated. Betrayed. Just like Sonya had. That bitter knowledge should be enough to keep his sanity.
Even when his sanity had always been in short supply around Anna.
He turned to her, wondering why she was here, wishing she wasn’t. “What can I do for you?” he said, unable to erase a hint of ice from his voice. He never had been very good at hiding his emotions from her.
She brushed an errant strand of hair behind her ear. He could see her hands shaking. “I need to talk to you.”
“Fire away,” he said, hoping he didn’t sound as curious as he was.
She cast her apprehensive gaze around. “C… could we sit down?”
“No. No way.” He needed to keep this impersonal, and getting too cozy, seeing her in his personal space, would definitely blow that need to pieces. “I’d rather talk here.”
She nodded, unsmiling. After a long silence, she said in a small voice, “You’re mad at me, aren’t you?”
“Hell, yes, I’m mad,” he said without thinking, reacting to the red-hot anger she’d sent knifing through him when she’d revealed who she was.
Her eyes widened and shimmered and her lips quivered. She backed up a few steps.
Ah, damn. He was being a brute. “I mean—”
“No,” she said, slicing the air with her hands. “Of course you’re mad. I thought I could…” She trailed off, shaking her head, and pressed her fingers to the bridge of her nose. “I shouldn’t have come here.” She walked toward the door, her back straight, her movements rigid. “I’m sorry I bothered you.”
“Wait.” He touched her shoulder, feeling her warmth in every cell of his body, detecting her seductive scent in the air again.
She stiffened and remained silent, her head bent. Even though he shouldn’t care about any of this, even though he needed to cut her from his life quickly and efficiently, his curiosity exploded. “Why did you come here, Anna?”
Because you love me?
Crazy hope rocketed to life inside of him—
No. He wouldn’t consider something that he could never allow to be. He shoved the irrelevant, ridiculous question out of his mind.
She made a noise in the back of her throat. “My father showed up, as I’d expected.” She turned and looked at him, her lovely brown eyes piercing. “I landed the Perfect Bridal account, so technically I met the terms of his deal.”
“I’m happy it all worked out for you.” He drew in his brows. “But what does that have to do with your coming here?”
“Good for you,” he said sincerely. Even though he was angry with her for not sharing her true identity with him from the start, livid and wounded that she’d turned out to be a rich girl who couldn’t be part of his life, he was glad her life was working out.
She was moving on. Without him. Maybe with some other guy…
Somehow, that thought dug deep, creating a flare of jealousy that surprised him.
“He told me about his lost love—my mother,” she whispered, her words hanging in the air, so tempting… yet so frightening.
“And?” was all he said.
She sucked in a huge breath and looked right at him. “And I decided I didn’t want to have a lost love of my own, that I had to face my fears and fight for what I wanted instead of backing down and running away from things that scare me.” She gave him a watery half smile. “You taught me that, you know.”
He didn’t say anything. Couldn’t say anything. Because while there was a part of him that was flattered and happy that she thought he was worth fighting for and that she’d learned something from him, another larger, smarter, learned-his-lesson-and-boy-was-he-not-going-to-go-there part knew he had to tell her that fighting for him was futile.
She’d sealed their fate the moment she’d deliberately hidden her true identity from him.
He looked at the floor, and then at her, a leaden sadness coming to life inside of him. She deserved his full attention now, his honesty. It wasn’t what she wanted to hear, but it was all he could give; his heart was back where it belonged—off-limits. “Anna—”
“No, don’t say it,” she said, cutting him off. “I can see this was a wasted trip. But I had to know. I’ve learned that I had to at least try.”
He nodded slowly. “I wish things were different…”
“But they’re not, are they?” She put her small, soft hand on the bare skin of his arm for a moment, her eyes piercing, blatantly giving him one more chance.
Once again, her mesmerizing warmth seeped into him, reminding him how much he’d always wanted her. But in the end, when the chips were down, attraction and hormones didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was what lived inside of his battered, wary heart and made it impossible for him to set himself up to be hurt again.