Flash Burned

by Calista Fox

  “You didn’t seem to mind while we were on the course.”

  “That was because I was admiring the view. You have a very powerful swing. There were a couple of tee-offs when I actually thought you’d edge out Dad by a few yards.”

  “Luckily, I’m not quite as good as him.”

  “Yes, that is fortunate. He’s having enough trouble digesting the fact that we’re living in sin.”

  “Ah, but not for long,” Dane reminded me. As if I could forget. “Though … you didn’t mention it to him.”

  “First of all, it was challenging enough to have him come for dinner while we all pretended it wasn’t a holiday. Thanks for playing along, by the way.”

  “As much as you’ve told me about your family situation, I can understand how Thanksgiving might seem … sardonic … to him.”

  “That’s a very polite way of putting it,” I muttered. Then I worked out of Dane’s tight embrace and turned to face him. “What were holidays like at the estate in Philadelphia, when you were growing up?”

  “Eventful,” he said. “My aunt went all out for everything, every year. Even when she wasn’t feeling well because of the cancer. Apparently, my mother had been big on decorating the mansion and helping the kitchen staff with the meals, so Aunt Lara stepped into the role—and claimed she adored it. I had no basis of comparison, of course, but I thought she did an exceptional job.”

  “She must have loved you a lot. To raise you and make sure all of the family traditions stayed intact, were passed along to you. It couldn’t have been easy. She must have given up some of her own dreams.”

  “She once told me she’d never intended to have children. My parents had planned a big family, and Aunt Lara had offered to serve as nanny. She liked kids. She just wasn’t interested in having her own brood. Primarily, I think, because she’d had some not so healthy relationships with men when she was young. But then, later on…” He grinned coyly. “She found the right one.”

  I regarded him suspiciously. “Oh? You never mentioned she married.”

  “She didn’t. They tried to keep it covert. But I found out about it.”

  A twinkle in his eye had me dying of curiosity. “Who?” And then it hit me. “Oh, my God. Amano!”

  With a nod, Dane said, “I think they were very happy together. More than just wanting to stay on to protect me and the estate, I’m pretty sure he kept his job in the mansion to be close to her.”

  “Wow. That’s so romantic. Oh, but … tragic, too.” Considering Dane’s aunt had passed a few years ago.

  “Yes, it is. But I’m happy they’d found each other.”

  I couldn’t help but think, once again, of Dane’s neighbor and friend. “Did Mikaela spend holidays with you all?”

  “Yes, she did. Her mother sometimes, too, when she wasn’t otherwise engaged.”

  I eyed him curiously. “So, while Dad was away being an ambassador, her mom was…?”

  “They had an open marriage.”

  I stared at Dane. “How does that work, exactly?” I shook my head. “I mean, I grasp the concept, but … What’s the point in even getting married? If you’re not committed to each other, want outside relationships, want to sleep with other people, then why bother?”

  “I don’t know,” he told me with a pointed look. “It’s not anything I’d ever be interested in or would ever agree to. I’d never let another man touch you.” He said this with grave conviction.

  The very reason he was so fixated on Kyle’s attraction to me, and precisely why I constantly reiterated with my friend where he really stood.

  “I suppose,” Dane ventured, “it had a lot to do with the fact that Ambassador Madsen was rarely in the country and his wife and Mikaela didn’t travel or live with him, as I’ve mentioned previously. It’s not quite like your parents’ situation.”

  “That was just plain screwed up,” I lamented. “He gave her everything. Those tournaments were meant to provide her with all the material things she wanted—thought she deserved—as much as they were to appease his passion for golf.”

  “Ari,” Dane said. “Baby, you can’t think that every marriage is destined for that sort of betrayal, whether the cheating is consciously discussed and agreed upon or done behind someone’s back.”

  I knew he spoke the truth. But it was an extremely sensitive subject for me. I’d witnessed—lived through—the devastation of that sort of deception. For me, that was a red flag with relationships. One of the biggest issues that had precluded me from actually having any … until I’d met Dane.

  “Hey,” he said. “Don’t get mired in other people’s drama, baby. Focus on what we have.”

  I smiled up at him. “Right.” He was absolutely right.

  He took my hand and we strolled down the hallway to the dressing room we shared. It was wall-to-wall rich, polished wood, with a standing three-way mirror and chairs and tables strategically placed. A chandelier hung over the marble-topped bureau in the center of the room. Sconces were mounted between the cutouts that housed the racks and shelves.

  “So, what was the second reason you didn’t mention our engagement to your dad?” Dane asked, not letting me clear the minefield.

  I hauled my golf shirt over my head and tossed it in the laundry bin. My skirt followed. As I toed off my tennis shoes, having changed out of my spikes before we’d left the club, I said, “I guess I’m not certain that’s what it was.”

  My brows knitted. So did his.

  “I’m not sure what that means,” he told me.

  “Yeah, I know. Sorry. It’s just that … I thought you were asking me sort of generically—like would I marry you someday? Down the road.”

  “Ah.” He stripped off his polo. Dropping it on the bureau, he rested his forearms on the marble and pinned me with a serious look. “So when you agreed, you were thinking marriage would be a long time off.”

  I pulled in a deep breath. A rush of contradictory feelings I’d somehow kept at bay all day long made my nerves jump. “This is going to get complicated,” I surmised as I dragged on one of his Henleys, my favorite sleepwear aside from the nightgown he’d brought from Paris.

  “I’m listening,” he prompted in a measured tone.

  Standing at the opposite end of the dresser that stretched almost the length of the room—and recognizing the safety zone it created for what it was—I said, “We didn’t discuss a time frame. I figured you were doing what you always do. Present the issue at hand and give me the space to process it.”

  Now his brow rose. “The issue?”

  I sighed. “Call it whatever you want. I’m just saying that you know how I feel about marriage, so it’s going to take a little while for me to adjust to the idea of it. But I do want to marry you,” I assured him.

  “In what … four, five, ten years?”

  “Now you’re just being pissy.”

  Shoving away from the bureau, he dumped his shirt in the hamper, removed his shoes and socks, and peeled off his Dockers.

  “Dane.”

  “No, you’re right,” he said as he discarded his briefs and yanked open a drawer for his drawstring pants.

  I lost my train of thought as I watched him. He was too sinful, too tempting, by far.

  Pulling me from the lust-induced haze clouding my mind, he told me, “I understand that, based on your grandparents’ and your parents’ volatile marriages and subsequent divorces, you never considered making the commitment yourself. You even told me when we met that you weren’t the marrying kind. I know you were jesting at the time, but still … I do remember you saying it and I did take the comment to heart.”

  He tied the strands at his waist and continued. “You also once said that I didn’t have to worry about you falling in love with me—though I’d expressed it was something I’d never take exception to. But you did fall in love with me.”

  “So, you’re working off the theory that I always come around … for you?”

  His grin was a tad too cocky. I smi
rked at him.

  Then I said, “I won’t deny it. And I didn’t balk last night. I accepted what you asked of me, because, well … I’ll admit, it’s what I want, too. I just didn’t really think of it as a proposal or that we were currently, as of that moment … engaged.” That last word sort of tripped off my tongue in an odd hesitation. I rolled my eyes.

  This wasn’t about to get complicated.

  It was about to get downright messy.

  chapter 4

  Crossing his rock-hard arms over his chest, Dane gave me another unyielding look. “You know perfectly well that I wouldn’t have asked if I weren’t deathly serious.”

  I cringed. “Let’s not use that term.”

  His jaw worked for a few seconds. Then he said, “That does bring up another point. You were right last night when I made conflicting statements. At the moment, I don’t think it’s wise or safe for us to go public with our relationship. But I do want to marry you.”

  I winced inwardly at the question that ironically popped into my head. Not wanting to sound materialistic, because I certainly wasn’t, I ventured, “Is that why you proposed without a ring?”

  He exhaled slowly. Almost agitatedly. “I asked on impulse. Because it’s what I want, but not something I’ve figured out in my mind how to execute. Except…” He shook his head. Dropped his arms. Joining me where I stood, he propped a hip against the dresser and reached for my hand. Holding it to his mouth, he softly swept his lips over my skin. “Ari, I want you to be my wife. There’s no reticence on my part. No doubt. But you do bring up some valid concerns, and I now know what we have to do in order to pull this off.”

  My stomach did a peculiar fluttering mixed with a gentle roiling. Exhilaration tinged by a hint of uh-oh.

  Swallowing down more nerves, I said, “Do tell.”

  He kissed my fingers, then flattened my palm to his pecs, over his heart. His hand covered mine.

  “I can’t give you a ring just yet.”

  Huh. Hadn’t seen that one coming.

  “Okay.”

  He glowered a little. “I mean, I can. I just don’t think it’s a good idea. In fact, the fewer people who know we’re married, the better.”

  “You might want to explain that,” I said. “So I’m not confused.”

  “Ari, I want to marry you sooner rather than later. As in soon.”

  “Like, in a year, not four?”

  “Like, tomorrow.”

  I blanched. “Tomorrow?”

  “I’ll make a call. We can apply for a license in the morning, then get married in the evening. Here at the house.”

  The roiling in my stomach overpowered the fluttering.

  He continued, as though it weren’t evident I suffered heart palpitations. “If you trust her, we can have your friend officiate.”

  “Tamera,” I squeaked out.

  “Yes. And we’ll need a couple of witnesses. Ethan, of course. Amano. My lawyer. There will be a lot of paperwork for you to sign. I’ll have to contact him tonight to get started right away.”

  My mind reeled. “Um … I … Uh…” Christ. I couldn’t form a single coherent sentence.

  Dane’s eyes sparkled, as though this sudden decision was the most brilliant one he’d ever made.

  “If you think your dad can handle the news, let’s include him as well.”

  I had no clue what possessed me, but I mumbled, “Kyle, too.”

  “Not Kyle,” Dane countered emphatically.

  I snatched my hand from Dane’s, cogent thoughts suddenly gelling. “Someone has to stand up for me. You get three people. I get three people, Tamera included.”

  A much too sexy grin split his lips. “I know better than to argue with you. And I will concede that Kyle has kept our secret, despite not liking us being together.”

  “He won’t be happy about this, either,” I grumbled. “But he’s the closest thing I have to a best friend, so from that standpoint, I know he’ll want to be in the loop.”

  “Plus, he’ll want that last-ditch attempt to change your mind.”

  “I won’t change my mind,” I said vehemently. Where that conviction came from I wasn’t entirely sure. Except that pinning down a date, not dragging out an engagement, and knowing I’d be Dane’s wife in twenty-four hours made me absurdly giddy again.

  “Then we’re on for tomorrow night?” he asked.

  I shook out my hands, trying to get the anxiety to abate. No luck there. And yet, somehow, I knew exactly what I was doing.

  “I’ll have to call Tamera, make sure she’s available.” Given that we were talking about a Friday, I suspected that wouldn’t pose a problem.

  Something else did, though. A dark thought edged my euphoria, chasing away the certainty I’d experienced moments before. I frowned.

  “What is it?” Dane asked.

  Dread slithered through me. “I don’t get to plan my own wedding.”

  I shifted away from him, pacing restlessly.

  “You never wanted a wedding,” he reminded me.

  Though he had me on the technicality, I told him, “That was because I never wanted to get married. But obviously things are different now. And damn it, Dane, if I’m going to throw all caution to the wind and do the direct opposite of what I’ve been saying from the beginning, just because the idea of being your wife makes my toes curl and my heart nearly burst from my chest, then … I want a wedding!”

  “Ari—”

  “I’ve been a bridal consultant for six years, Dane. I’m an event planner at the Lux. Of course I’m going to want to plan my own wedding.”

  He folded his arms over his chest once more. Just watching how he ground his teeth told me he searched his brain for the perfect solution.

  I waited patiently, though still paced.

  Several suspended moments ticked by. Finally, he said, “I don’t want to hold off on this, Ari. I want a ceremony tomorrow night.”

  Drawing up short, I demanded, “What’s the rush, Dane?” Granted, I’d invariably fallen in love with this notion and wanted it to happen as quickly as possible, too.

  Perhaps before he changed his mind? Came to his senses and realized I wasn’t the be-all, end-all he deserved? That I was no Mikaela Madsen?

  Resisting the urge to gnaw on my manicured nails, I tried to lighten the mood by joking, “Are you pregnant?”

  He glared at me, which made me laugh.

  “Come on,” I coaxed. “That was funny.”

  Reaching out, he pulled me to him and said, “Stop pacing as though the idea of marrying me makes you nervous.”

  “But it does,” I confessed. “And you know why. I don’t believe in marriage. It makes absolutely no sense that we’re having this conversation and that I’m consenting to everything that goes against the grain just because I’m head over heels in love and, suddenly, the thought of not being your wife is something I can’t live with or accept.”

  My pulse raged a bit too quick and my breath labored. I’d felt this way when I’d broken up with Dane months ago. For my own good and sanity, I’d told myself back then, to justify the split. But my well-being and mental health had taken solid blows because of that spontaneous decision. I’d quickly come to the realization that I couldn’t be without him.

  A terrifying prospect, because it wasn’t exactly smart to hinge your entire existence on one person. Yet this was how it was between us. And he’d struggled with the separation as much as I had.

  “Look,” he said, as he held me tightly with one arm and cupped the side of my face with his free hand. His thumb whisked over my cheek in a tender, loving way. “I’ve always said I’ll give you whatever you want, whatever your heart desires. I won’t let you down, Ari. I’ll keep that promise. We will have a wedding. The most beautiful one you can dream up—I swear it. Just … not right away.”

  I stared deep into his eyes, seeing the insistence, the need, the pledge to this endeavor. And knew it was a vow he wouldn’t break.

  He added, “Tomorro
w will be just for us. After the Lux is opened and I don’t have to worry about Bryn Hilliard—Vale’s father—and the others, then we can have a wedding at the resort. Or anywhere else in the world you choose.”

  “The Lux,” I told him. “That’s where we should be married. You know it.”

  “Then that’s where we’ll do it. With a huge reception. Anything you want. But, Ari—” His head dipped and his lips brushed over mine. “Baby. I want to marry you now. Not wait until the spring. I want you to be mine. Fully committed.”

  His muscles were rigid, his gaze steely. The raw intensity he exuded captivated me, hooked me.

  “For the record, I am fully committed.” I gave further thought to how tormented I’d been when separated from Dane after Vale’s attack, and I knew to the depths of my soul what I really wanted. “We have a lot to do to get ready for tomorrow evening,” I found myself saying. “It might be a private, intimate ceremony, but it has to be perfect.”

  “It will be. I have every confidence in your planning skills. And I will find something for us to exchange during our vows. Something that will mean a lot to both of us and be a symbol of our love.”

  “Okay.”

  There was no point in telling him not to go overboard. He would. That was his nature.

  “Seven o’clock?” he ventured.

  “Yes.”

  “You take care of the ceremony. I’ll handle dinner.”

  “You’re going to make Chef D’Angelo work on his day off, aren’t you?”

  The Lux was closed for Thanksgiving and the day after, though we all intended to be back at it bright and early Saturday morning.

  “Chef and I go way back, to my first hotel in Tahoe. But I’m not going to tell him the occasion. Just that we’re having a dinner party. I’ll ask Rosa to serve.”

  “She’ll be so delighted you haven’t run me off with your five-card recipe box.”

  He tapped my nose with his finger and said, “You have a very smart mouth.”

  “You like what I do with this mouth.”

  With a carnal groan, he concurred. “You are rather talented. Meet me in the bedroom in half an hour.”

  We left the dressing room and went in opposite directions. I presumed he headed to his office to contact Ethan, Amano, and his lawyer. I grabbed my phone and went into the bedroom, lit the fire, and curled on the sofa in front of the low flames. My first call, to Tamera, would be the easiest one. The other two … not so much.