by Robin Kaye
"You walked out on me three days ago. Now you're not giving up on me? Lucky me. Now put me down and leave. I'm not interested."
The elevator door opened, and ignoring her, he walked right toward her office. She squirmed more. Anything to keep him out of her office. She hadn't covered the painting, and the last thing she wanted was him to see it. God, she was mortified. "Don't go in there."
"Why?"
"Have you ever heard of privacy?"
"Is he in there?"
"He who?"
"Ben. You know, the guy who proposed to you?"
God, she wanted to kill Becca. "Is that what this is about? You came out here because you're jealous of Ben?" She was tempted to tell him she'd already said yes to Ben's proposal, but she couldn't lie even though, in the end, it would probably be less painful for both of them. He walked into her office, and she cringed as he stopped dead in his tracks with her still hanging over his shoulder like a freaking rag doll.
"That's me. You're painting me?"
"Wow, it's so nice to hear I haven't lost my touch. Now would you please put me down?"
He set her on her feet but didn't let go of her as he stared at the painting. "It's beautiful. I've never seen anything like it."
She guessed it was too late to cover the canvas. She pulled away, wiped her hands on a rag, and took a drink of water that had gone warm. Her throat was dry, and she didn't know what the heck to do. He looked awful and wonderful at the same time. Kind of like she felt. Well, except for feeling totally exposed. Mike stared at her painting like he sometimes stared at her, as if he could see within her.
"I never noticed how much Becca and I look alike. It's weird seeing us together like that."
Annabelle nodded. She'd painted Mike and Becca with their arms around each other and their heads together. They had smiles on their faces as if they were posing for a camera and sharing a joke.
She hadn't started on the background, and the clothes were rough, but she had their faces down, and he was right, they did look an awful lot alike. They also looked happy, something she really wished for both of them.
Annabelle knew he was right behind her. Still, when he put his hands on her shoulders she jumped.
"I've missed you."
She couldn't take the touching. She was too close to either falling apart or falling all over him. She stepped away, faced him, and wrapped her arms around herself. "You got me here. What do you want?"
Mike stepped closer. "I came here to talk to you. To apologize."
She needed to get away from him. But she needed to end this even if it killed her. "For manhandling me?"
"No. For jumping to conclusions. For not talking to you and hearing you out. For not believing in you and in us."
She shrugged and stepped around her desk, trying to put some space between them. "There is no us." Her chest ached, her head ached, that damn vein in her forehead throbbed—she hurt everywhere. "I'm sorry I didn't handle it better. But it really doesn't matter now. No amount of talking is going to change things." No matter how badly she wished it would.
Mike followed her. "How can you say that?"
"Because it's the truth."
"I love you."
She shook her head and bit her lip to keep from blurting out that she loved him, too. She dared to look at him in the eyes and saw her pain reflected there. Still, it had to be done. It was best for him. "Yeah, but I know better than most that sometimes love just isn't enough."
"So you're going to give up on us and marry your boss? You don't love him."
"Ben has nothing to do with this."
"I came out here to ask you to marry me. I want you in my life, in my home, in my bed. I want a family with you. I want to spend the rest of my life loving you and only you."
Annabelle shook her head. God, if only everything were as easy as that. She loved him. She wanted a life with him and kids. It was a perfect dream, but she knew the reality. She felt as if she had a steel band wrapped around her chest, making it hard to breathe and think. She was sure something was going to burst. "I can't." Her voice cracked. That damn vein in her head throbbed, and her eyes stung from unshed tears. No amount of blinking could stop them.
"This is about Larsen, isn't it?"
She slid past him toward the door. "No. This is about me. I can't do this again."
"Do what?"
"I don't fit in with your family—" Her back was to him. She could barely see through the blur of tears.
"That's bullshit. You fit in just fine. My mother loves you. Becca is your best friend—"
"Your father hates me. And I don't care what you say. In time, you'll resent me for coming between you and your dad."
Mike had moved and now stood planted against the door. There was no way she'd be able to leave until he let her go. The way he stood with his feet spread and his hands fisted on his hips made it abundantly clear that wasn't going to happen any time soon.
He reached out and pulled her toward him. "You're not coming between me and anyone. I'm not Chip. Damn it! If Larsen has a problem with you, he can go pound rock salt. I spent thirty-two years of my life without a father. I don't need one now."
"I know you're not Chip. You're nothing like him. But that's not the point. There's the estate, the trust fund, the job." She pulled away from him and wiped the tears from her face.
He stepped closer, crowding her. "Nothing is worth losing you."
"I don't want you to give anything up because of me." As she stepped back again and backed right into the wall, he sandwiched her in and held her close. She had no choice but to face him. He looked at her in such a way, her feeling of being exposed increased tenfold.
"You don't trust me."
"What?"
"You don't trust me. You think I'm going to throw you under the bus at the first sign of trouble."
"No. It's not you. It's me. I just can't do this again. I won't stand between you and your family."
"What do you think you're doing right now?" He tugged her closer and kissed her while he gently pulled her arms around him. "Don't you see? You're the only family I want or need. You're the family I've been looking for my whole life. Not Larsen, not Becca, not even my mum. Just you."
Mike felt so good, and the way he talked made it sound almost possible. But it was just talk. She'd been down this road before. She knew how it felt when ultimatums were given, and she was tossed aside.
He rested her head against his shoulder, his hand pushing her hair off her face while the other arm encircled her waist, holding her tight against him. "Let's fly to Vegas. We'll get married and then decide what to do from there."
He was so warm, and his voice rumbled in his chest and mixed with the sound of his steady heartbeat. "No." She tried to get away, but he held her gently but firmly.
"No to Vegas or no to getting married?" He didn't sound particularly hurt, but then he was so close she really couldn't see his face.
"Both."
"You mean you're not going to make an honest man of me? Your mother and father aren't going to be too happy about that. After all, they've already given us their blessing."
"What?" She pulled away enough to look him in the eye. He looked so damn pleased with himself.
"I asked them for your hand in marriage. I'm a responsible adult, not some kid. Your family is important to you, so that makes them important to me. It was the right thing to do."
"When was this?"
"Tuesday."
"I can't believe you did that." God, part of her wanted to hug him. Asking for her hand was so sweet and old-fashioned, not to mention difficult. Especially with her parents. Then there was the part of her that wanted to kill him, too. Now, she not only had to deal with Mike, she had to explain to her mother why she wouldn't marry him.
Mike let her go, reached for the silenced cell phone on her desk, and slid his finger across the screen to unlock it. "There are forty-seven voice mail messages. I'll bet most of them are from your mother. The others
are probably from your sister, my sister, or my mum. She threw me out, you know."
"She did not." Annabelle took her phone from him. He didn't need to see several of those calls were from Ben.
"She certainly did. It seems Mum thinks she made the mistake of a lifetime when she left the States before talking to Larsen. She told me not to make the same mistake. Then she said I wasn't hungry, took away my dinner, and told me I had things to do. Namely figuring out a way to get you back. She was right you know. I don't want to grow old alone and miserable like Larsen. He sold out. He lost my mother because he didn't care enough to get her back. He went home with his tail between his legs and for what? For money and that big-ass estate. He's been miserable ever since. It took me a while to figure it out, but now that I have, I'm not going to give up. I want you back. I need you." He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "And you're not making this easy."
Annabelle closed her eyes and shook her head. "You're the one who isn't making this easy." She was a mess, she hurt, and she was being manipulated. As if it wasn't bad enough that she was dying inside, she was mad.
"What are you afraid of? Talk to me. Don't run away like you did before."
"I didn't run away. I was thrown away. You want to know what I'm afraid of. Fine. I'm afraid of losing myself again. I'm afraid of failing again. I loved Chip, and there was nothing I could do to make him love me. And when he left me…"
"He didn't leave you. He died."
"He left me by refusing treatment. He never even tried. He gave up on me and on our life because it wasn't worth fighting for. I wasn't worth fighting for." Spent, she sat on the couch and, with her elbows on her knees, held her head in her hands.
The cushion beside her dipped, and Mike's arm wrapped around her, pulling her to his side. He kissed her temple and held her for a moment. "Babe, I'm nothing like Chip. Maybe he didn't have the courage to try. No matter how much you love someone, if they don't have that kind of courage, you can't give it to them."
Mike took a deep breath. "I promised you I wouldn't go anywhere without you. I broke that promise, and you can't imagine how sorry I am I let you down. But babe, I'm back now, and I won't make the same mistake twice."
"Mike—" She turned to face him, pulling her leg up under the other.
"No, let me finish. I'm not afraid to fight for you, for us, but I can't do it alone. I guess you were right. Sometimes love isn't enough. You have to be willing to risk everything for that love. Chip wasn't, but I am. Are you? Or are you going to run away from what you really want?"
Exhausted, she had no tears left to cry. She was empty. "You say that now, and I really think you believe it, but when your father finds out about us, he's going to threaten to take it all away."
"There are other jobs."
God she loved him; everything was so black-and-white. He didn't understand. "He used to threaten to cut Chip off without a cent. You don't know what he's like."
"I could care less about his money. Money is great, but I'm not going to sell my soul for it. That's what I'd have to do in order to take the money over you. I'm not going to sell out like my father. I'm not like Chip. I don't need money to make me happy. I just need you." Mike lifted her onto his lap and held her tight.
Her face was pressed against his neck, his pulse thrummed against her cheek, and her arms tightened around him. "I'm scared. Losing Chip almost killed me, and I didn't feel for him what I feel for you. If anything happened…"
Mike lowered her onto her back and, resting on his forearms over her, kissed her so tenderly before his eyes met hers. "Babe, I can't promise I'll never leave you, but I can promise I'll never leave you by choice. We can have a life together. We can build it to suit us, you and me. Are you going to let fear of losing keep you from that? Heck, if you do, we both lose. I don't know about you, but I can't imagine my life without you in it."
Annabelle had no problem imagining her life without Mike. A life filled with pain and loneliness. It would be an infinite number of days like the last few days had been—seemingly endless. He was close, he was real, and he loved her enough to try. He loved her enough to make her want to try. Maybe you can give someone else courage after all. "I don't have to imagine it. I've spent the last three days living it."
"God, I hope they sucked." Mike smiled down at her.
She was laughing and crying at the same time. "Really, really bad."
"So are you going to marry me and let me put you out of your misery?"
Her heart pounded, but she wasn't sure if it was because she was scared to death, or if it was because Mike was lying above her so close, giving her that look that always made her mouth dry and her panties wet. She figured it was both. They were about to jump off a cliff together, and all she could do was trust in him and in them, if not herself.
Chapter 21
"Damn." Mike forgot all about the ring. He had to stand up to get it out of his pocket. When he did, Annabelle sat up.
"What's wrong?"
Mike knelt down in front of her. "I'm sorry. I didn't do this very well. I guess that's why they put rings in funny-shaped boxes, so you don't have to go searching your pants pockets for them."
"You got me a ring?"
"Of course. It was my grandmother's. If you don't like it, we can get you another one … eventually. After I get another job." Mike slid the ring on her finger, surprised to find it fit.
Annabelle stared at the ring with wide eyes. "It's … it's beautiful. I love it."
That was a relief because if she didn't, he'd have a heck of a time getting her another one. Especially since he was most likely out of a job and out of money. They might be poor, but they were happy. "Does that mean you're going to marry me?" His heart was beating double-time, and he could swear he was beginning to sweat. She just stared at the ring like she was wondering if it was real—both the diamond and the proposal. Heck, he couldn't blame her, if he hadn't spoken to the jeweler, he'd wonder if it was a fake. The proposal, even though he totally botched it, was straight from the heart. The wait seemed an eternity.
A slow smile covered her face, and she lunged at him, almost knocking him on the floor. "Yes." She wrapped her arms around his neck so tight she practically strangled him as she kissed him. God, he'd missed her, and he wanted her, but not here, not now, and not with her wearing some other guy's shirt.
He gently disengaged himself and put some distance between them. "Good. Now come on, let's go celebrate."
She looked confused. "Mike, it's the middle of the day."
"So? I have off, and I'm sure if you tell Kerri we just got engaged, she won't give you a hard time about leaving."
"Okay, fine. But let me at least shower and change."
"Sure. We can go back to your place—"
"No need. I stayed here last night. Well, I was up all night painting, but I was going to crash at Ben's. I brought a change of clothes."
Mike swallowed the first remark that came to mind, the second, and the third ones, too. "Why were you staying at Ben's?"
Annabelle tossed a sheet over the painting and moved the easel out of the center of the room. "Becca was at my place, and Rosalie and she ganged up on me. They wanted me to go to the beach house, but I couldn't so I came here."
"To stay with Ben."
"Not with Ben, just at his place. He's out of town. Why, what's wrong with that?"
"What's wrong with you staying at a guy's apartment who recently proposed to you?"
"Mike, Ben and I are just friends."
"Right, that's why he wants to marry you."
"He wanted to marry me because he needs a wife … temporarily. It's a long story. He just needs to marry someone who isn't going to go after his money or get confused about their … relationship. It's nothing personal."
"Nothing personal?" My ass. "So he picked you? After all you've been through?"
"Well, yeah. It's not like I had anything better to do. You dumped me, remember?"
"No, you dum
ped me."
"Are we going to fight, or are we going to celebrate?"
"Celebrate. But why don't you just get your stuff out of Ben's apartment, and we can put it back where it belongs."
She rolled her eyes. "If it'll make you feel better, I'll get my stuff, and we can go to my place."
"It will." Actually what would make him feel better would be to knock some sense into Ben's thick skull, preferably with his fist. Ben took advantage of Annabelle by asking her to marry him so shortly after Mike and she had broken up. He couldn't believe she actually bought that line about needing to get married. Ben was a man, and he'd had his eye and sometimes hands on Annabelle since Mike had met her. He wasn't fooled by Ben's we're-just-friends act.
Annabelle took off for Ben's apartment, and Mike waited in her office. When he heard footsteps, he stood expecting to see Annabelle.
"Annabelle, I have that prenup from my lawyer for you to look at."
Mike took one look at Ben's smug face and slammed his fist into it. Damn that hurt.
Ben fell back into the wall and gave his head a shake. "I was wondering how long it would take you to come to your senses. I guess I deserved the punch, but did you have to go for the face?" He wiped the blood from his lip.
"Ben? Is that you?"
Ben put the documents in the breast pocket of his suit jacket. "Yeah, I was just talking to Mike here."
"Oh, I didn't expect you back until tomorrow."
Annabelle strode in and walked right to Mike. He put his arm around her shoulder and held her close, hoping his hand wouldn't swell up too much.
Ben pointed to her ring and smiled a kind of lopsided grin since his lip was beginning to swell. "I hear congratulations are in order."
"Mike told you?"
"Yes, he did. I wish you both the best of luck."
"Thanks for understanding, Ben."
"Not a problem.
Annabelle looked at Ben and then tilted her head. "Are you okay? You don't look so good."
"I'm fine. I assume you're going to take the rest of the weekend off."
"Yeah. I was hoping to." Annabelle threw her duffel bag over her shoulder before Mike took it from her. She shot him a smile and ran around her desk to get her purse. "I'll see you on Monday, okay?"