Play My Game: A 100 Series Standalone Romance
Page 25
The third is a painting I almost didn’t allow the gallery to have tonight. In it, Melanie is bared from the waist up, her face tilted away from the viewer with her long red hair flowing down the elegant length of her back in a fiery cascade.
Each of them means something different to me, three different facets of an infinitely intriguing, extraordinary woman. A woman I was fortunate to have in my life for a brief moment, and too unworthy to keep.
“Quite the turnout, my friend.” Dominic Baine steps up to me with Avery on his arm. He’s wearing a dark suit, holding a glass of champagne. Avery glows in a black cocktail dress that sets off her green eyes and golden blond hair.
“I think half the New York art world is here,” she adds, lifting up to kiss my cheek. “Congratulations, Jared. Your paintings are absolutely gorgeous. Everyone’s raving over this new direction your art has taken.”
“Thanks.” I smile at my friends, genuinely warmed by their praise. “I was glad you agreed to host me here at Dominion tonight.”
“Are you kidding?” Nick grins. “I’d have been insulted if you’d gone anywhere else.”
Avery nods. “Margot says she’s already received half a dozen eight-figure offers on the collection. You sure you’re not interested in selling any of them?”
“I’m sure.” I glance over the throng of admirers gathered around the three images of Melanie. “I could no more part with them than I could my right arm.”
As we talk, Gabe and Evelyn step in to join us. Melanie’s best friend apparently overheard my comment. “Have you called her yet, Jared?”
“No.” They all know how I’ve felt since my epic fuck-up with her. They know my planned relocation to the Hamptons and the sell-off of all my clubs and entertainment venues in the city is all in an effort to put some much-needed distance between myself and the anguish of losing Melanie. “She doesn’t want to see me, and I have to respect that.”
Eve gives me a sympathetic look. “Mel’s stubborn sometimes. She guards her heart because as tough as she’s had to be all her life, that’s the one place she’s vulnerable. She let you in, Jared. That’s not easy for her. You really hurt her.”
“I know. Damn it, I know that.” The words grate out of me, my self-loathing hardly lessened since that night at Muse. “I fucked up with her, big time.”
“Yes, you did,” Eve says. “But I don’t think you’ve lost her completely. Not yet.”
I shake my head. “I think you’re wrong. I sent her an apology tonight. It didn’t make any difference. She’s shut me out, and I don’t have anyone to blame but myself.”
Gabe frowns. “You really love her, don’t you?”
“Christ, yes. I didn’t realize how much I could need another person, but I need her. Melanie’s my light. She’s everything to me. I don’t know how I’m going to live another day without her in my life.”
My heart pounds as I let the words spill out of me. I don’t care if my friends think I’m a pathetic, lovesick idiot. Hell, that’s exactly what I am. I’ve been in a tailspin of misery for the past month. I don’t want to imagine how much worse I’ll be hurting in another month, another year. Or longer, for the rest of my days.
What’s more, I refuse to imagine that kind of pointless existence.
I can’t.
She may hate me. She may not want to see me, or hear anything I have to say, but if she thinks I’m going down without a fight, she has no clue how much she means to me.
Melanie is mine. She has been, right from the beginning. Now, I just need to convince her of that.
“I’ve gotta go.”
Eve and Avery both nod at me, their gazes soft with understanding and approval.
Nick cuffs me on the shoulder. “About time you figured that out, brother.”
Gabe nods and grins, then he glances past my shoulder and arches a brow. “Looks like you don’t have to go far.”
I wheel around and all the breath gusts out of my lungs.
It’s Melanie. She’s just arrived inside the gallery. Her hair, navy-blue T-shirt, and jeans are drenched from the rain. Her cheeks are flushed as though she just ran for a solid block. Her gorgeous blue-gray eyes are red-rimmed and puffy, as if she’s been crying.
I cut through the gathering with singular purpose, stopping just a few feet away from her. All I want to do is pull her into my embrace and never let her go.
She holds up a soggy letter, black ink dripping down her hand. “I got your note. I got your painting, too.”
Her gaze moves over the packed crowd inside the gallery, then to the wall where my paintings hang. Her eyes are already soft with emotion, but their color changes to something even more tender as she sees herself in my art.
“They’re amazing, Jared. I’m really happy for your new success.”
I take a step forward. “I’m only painting again because of you. I’ve found my true muse. The only one I need.”
She swallows. I can feel people starting to look at us. They’re looking at her, realizing she’s the mystery woman gracing these new portraits.
She stares at me, uncertainty in her gaze. “I should’ve changed into something more appropriate.”
“You look perfect.” She’s never looked more beautiful to me than she does now, soaked and breathless, just out of my reach. I take another step, removing the distance.
“I left in a hurry,” she says. “I was afraid you’d be gone soon, and I didn’t want to miss you. I wanted to thank you for my gift.”
Hope ignites inside me. My heart is banging in my chest, about to burst out of my rib cage. “I didn’t think you were coming. I thought maybe you didn’t like the painting, or what I had to say.”
“I love the painting.” Her eyes glisten, not with raindrops but with raw, tender emotion. “I loved your note. And I love you, too, Jared.”
“Thank God.”
I pull her into my arms, cupping her nape as I take her mouth in a kiss I’ve been dying to taste for four long weeks. She’s wet against my suit and open-collared shirt, her face and skin still dripping with rain. I hold her to me as if I’ve been starving for water. I truly have been starving for her, for the feeling of her in my arms.
I draw back from her lips on a groan. “I should’ve told you I loved you, even before that night. Melanie, I’m sorry. I should’ve told you everything right from the start. That I love you. That I need you in my life. It’s been fucking agony without you.”
“I know,” she whispers, bringing my face back to hers and kissing me again. Her salty tears blend with the raindrops on her lips. “It’s been awful for me, too. I’ve missed you so much. I love you, Jared.”
“You’re mine.” I say it fiercely, needing her to understand. “I love you, Melanie Laurent. For the rest of my life, I’m going to love you.”
“You’d better,” she replies, happiness radiating in her smile as the sounds of cameras snapping photos and shocked murmurs travel the gaping crowd.
I hardly notice the hubbub we’re creating. I have all I need in the circle of my arms.
I kiss Melanie again, whispering tender promises against her lips, which taste like heaven to me.
No, she tastes so much better than that.
She tastes like forever.
Like coming home at last.
EPILOGUE
Autumn, one year later . . .
MELANIE
I stand next to Jared under a clear blue Kentucky sky.
Green rolling hills and acres of lush pasture edged with miles of pristine white fences spread out before us. Under a copse of shade trees near the recently erected barn, a dozen brown horses graze on clover, their black tails swishing, silky manes riffling in the breeze.
He’s been quiet for a while, looking out at the property he knew as a boy. The home that was taken from him and his parents, then won back by Jared years later if only so he could try to erase all his hurt by tearing everything down.
We’ve rebuilt most of it now, together.
“Chef says it’s almost time to bring the ribs out,” she calls out to us.
Chef being Gibson, who’s practically become a permanent fixture in the months since Jared and I have moved up to the farm with my mom, Katie, and our dog, Sadie. Gibson and Mom have tried to pretend their friendship is purely platonic, but I can’t remember when I’ve ever seen her smile and laugh as much as I do when he’s around.
Today, the pair insisted on cooking for us and our friends.
Nick and Avery, Gabe and Eve, along with Nathan Whitmore and my friend Paige are gathered and conversing on the big patio and deck at the main house, all of them having come for the weekend ground-breaking of the new art studio on the property. Jared still paints when we’re living in the Hamptons beach house, but here is where he and other visiting artists will teach the kids and young adults in need who come up from the city to stay with us and to learn.
As for me, I turned down the position with the accounting firm in the city. Instead, I’ll be putting my MBA to work at the foundation Jared and I have started to benefit gifted young artists and promising students in need of scholarships and grants. The work we do together is challenging, exciting, and, yes, deeply rewarding.
“I don’t know about you,” Jared says, reaching over to hold my hand. “But I’m not quite ready to join the others yet. I’m enjoying having you all to myself.”
I snuggle closer to him. “I like the sound of that.”
“Good, because I don’t plan on ever letting you go.”
We kiss, wrapping our arms around each other and staring into each other’s eyes. His face grows solemn as the moments pass. “I didn’t think it could be possible that I could fall any deeper in love with you than I already was. But I was wrong. You’re as vital to me as air, Melanie. You’re my heart.”
“And you’re mine, too. I think I’m alive just so I could eventually find you.”
He makes a tender sound as he bends his head down and kisses me again, slow and deep, as if nothing else exists in the world except the two of us and our love.
I want to hold him like this forever, but he slowly draws away from me.
I frown, feeling lost without his warmth around me. “What’s wrong?”
“Absolutely nothing.” His smile is warm and full of devotion as he reaches into the pocket of his barn jacket. He pulls out a small ring box.
I exhale a shaky sigh. “Oh, my God.”
He chuckles, his grin making my legs go a little weak beneath me as I watch him sink down onto one knee in the grass before me. “Melanie Erin Laurent,” he says, holding me in his steady, intense gaze. “My beauty, my light, my love . . . I have never known the kind of happiness you’ve given me this past year. I’ve never known this feeling of completeness, this whole-hearted faith in another person in all my life. I don’t know how I lived before I had you in my life, but I do know I never want to be without you in it ever again.”
“Jared,” I whisper, a sob building in my throat.
He takes out the stunning diamond ring and reaches for my left hand. His fingers tremble, not with the tremors that come and go, but with the force of his emotion. The depth of his devotion for me, which I see shining in his eyes.
“I’m down on my knees,” he says, holding my hand in his big palm. “Please, say you’ll marry me, Melanie. Be mine forever.”
“Yes.” I nod my head once, then again and again. “Yes, Jared. Oh, my God, yes!”
He slips the ring onto my finger and a round of cheers and applause goes up from our friends and family gathered at the house.
I hardly hear any of it. I don’t hear the birds singing in the trees, or the sound of the sweet, country breeze rolling over the hills and pastures. All I hear is the strong beat of Jared’s heart drumming in perfect tempo with mine.
I look into his eyes and I see the promise of our future together.
This man, his heart, his love.
It’s everything I’ll ever need.
~ * ~
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About the Author
LARA ADRIAN is a New York Times and #1 internationally best-selling author, with nearly 4 million books in print worldwide and translations licensed to more than 20 countries. Her books regularly appear in the top spots of all the major bestseller lists including the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Wall Street Journal, Indiebound, Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, etc. Reviewers have called Lara’s books “addictively readable” (Chicago Tribune), “extraordinary” (Fresh Fiction), and “one of the best on the market” (Romantic Times).
Writing as TINA ST. JOHN, her historical romances have won numerous awards including the National Readers Choice; Romantic Times Magazine Reviewer’s Choice; Booksellers Best; and many others. She was twice named a Finalist in Romance Writers of America’s RITA Awards, for Best Historical Romance (White Lion’s Lady) and Best Paranormal Romance (Heart of the Hunter). More recently, the German translation of Heart of the Hunter debuted on Der Spiegel bestseller list.
With an ancestry stretching back to the Mayflower and the court of King Henry VIII, the author lives with her husband in Florida.
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