And she had an eerie suspicion that neither would David. “I just know that you two have been friends a long time.”
“Yes,” David admitted. “We grew up together.” The hard edge to his tone suggested that he wasn’t talking about just chronological years but something else, something that had caused them to grow up faster. “He even lived with us…after his dad died.”
Fathers meant little to her. She’d never known hers. Undoubtedly Daddy Dearest had been rich; her mother had liked the security of rich men. Even at nine Ariel had realized that. Now, looking back from a woman’s perspective, she also realized her father had probably been married. He’d certainly never been any part of their lives. Neither had Elena’s father or Irina’s. Since their mother had lied for money, she’d undoubtedly cheated, too. But that was long ago and should matter nothing to Ariel anymore.
All that mattered now was David.
But she found herself asking about Ty. “His mom was already gone?” Dead or just lost to him, as Ariel’s was lost to her? Perhaps that was why Ty had come when she’d called; they had the unspoken bond of abandoned children. Maybe she should have told Ty about her past first; his acceptance might have come more easily than David’s.
David nodded. “She died when he was about five.”
At least his mother had an excuse for being gone. “Then he lost his dad, too?”
A muscle twitched in David’s jaw, he clenched it so hard. “That was more a blessing than a curse.”
She winced at first the word, then the sentiment. “David!”
“His dad was a monster,” he explained. “Used to beat the hell out of Ty.”
“Like Haylee’s father did her.” That was why Ty had gone when she’d called him.
“God, Ariel, I’m sorry about bringing that up,” David said. “I shouldn’t have….”
She shook her head. “No, I shouldn’t have. I shouldn’t have called Ty.” He was the last person she should have called. “All those memories must have come rushing back—”
“Not for the first time,” David pointed out. “Ty’s been in that situation before since becoming a police officer, and you had no way of knowing about his past.”
“Because you hadn’t told me,” she reminded him. “We don’t know much about each other’s pasts.” She drew in a shaky breath. Was she ready to tell him?
“We have time to learn,” he said, closing his big hands over her shoulders again.
“Do we?” she wondered aloud.
“Give me another chance, Ariel. I was an ass.” He moved his hands from her shoulders to her neck, holding her face, with his thumbs stroking along her jaw.
She shivered at his light touch. “David—”
“Forgive me.” He didn’t ask for her forgiveness, he demanded it.
She could not deny him. She reached up and linked her arms around his neck. “I already have. If you forgive me…”
“Forgive you what?” he asked as he pulled her closer. He slid his hands over her back, the heat from his palms branding her even through the thickness of her chenille sweater.
“Yelling at you,” she reminded him. “Taking off without telling you where I was going.”
“Did you know where you were going?”
She shook her head, tangling her hair around his fingers. “I just needed to get away.” If not for her feelings for him, she might not have returned.
“You were devastated,” he said, his voice heavy with regret and sympathy. “I should have been more sensitive.”
She gestured toward the fire, the candles and the champagne. “You are.”
“Now. I wasn’t then when you needed sensitivity most,” he said, his voice heavy with self-condemnation. “I was just so scared that you could have been hurt. The thought of losing you…” His breath shuddered out, and his arms tightened even more. “I can’t lose you, Ariel.”
Pressed tight against his hard body, Ariel could feel each beat of his heart and every breath he took. She trembled with the desire to be part of him. Always. “Why, David?”
“I need you in my life. I know we haven’t been together long, but that day—and the past two weeks—made me realize something.”
Nerves fluttered in her stomach. She had to swallow twice before asking, “What did you realize, David?”
He drew back and cupped her face again, his hands gentle as he cradled her jaw. “I love you, Ariel.”
Her heart lifted, but out of self-preservation she squashed the hopefulness. In the past people had claimed to love her, but all of them had eventually abandoned her. She didn’t need the words from him, she needed action, proof of his love. And the only way she’d have that was if she tested him…with the truth.
But she didn’t know where to begin. “David…”
He winced, as if her hesitation physically hurt him. “I know after the way I acted that you must have your doubts about us. But I’ll make it up to you,” he vowed, “if you give me the chance, Ariel. Say yes.”
“Yes?”
He released her and stepped back, then dropped to one knee in front of her and the fire. “Marry me.”
Again, not a request but a demand. From a man who was used to getting what he wanted. But would he want her once he learned the truth? She had to tell him, but she couldn’t look at him, couldn’t face the expression that might cross his face. The way his eyes might widen first with disbelief, then darken with disappointment and regret, then, worst of all, pity. She stared into the fire as she began, “David, I need to…”
“To think about it?” he finished for her. “I’ll give you as much time as you need, Ariel. But while you think about it, I want you to wear this.” He slid something cold and hard onto her finger, drawing Ariel’s attention to her hand. A diamond, square and bright, twinkled up at her, aglow with the reflection of flames.
She drew in a quick breath. “It’s beautiful.” And, knowing David, very expensive. She couldn’t fathom how many carats, nor did she care. The ring meant nothing to her; it was the man she didn’t want to lose.
No windows were open, but it was as if a wind blew through the room. The candles burned higher and brighter. The flames in the hearth kicked up to tall spires of vivid orange. Ariel grabbed David’s shoulders, pulling him back as if he might get burned.
“Ariel, what’s wrong?” His voice was faint, the fire roaring louder, deafening.
Smoke filled the room, thicker and more impenetrable than any mist she’d ever seen. Unlike the mist, the smoke carried a scent, not of burning wood but of sandalwood incense and lavender. The flames rose even higher, taking shape. The shape of a woman.
