Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

“Oh, hell, no,” he suddenly said. “You don’t get to play all supersecretive. Not with me.” His blue eyes were piercing, boring into me.

“Kyle.”

“Tell me about it, Ari. For fuck’s sake, I’ve met your mother, remember? Nut job to the extreme. And your dad’s, like, so normal. Very laid-back. What the hell was he doing with her?”

“That’s pretty much the million-dollar question.” I raised my hands in the air, indicating I had absolutely no clue what my dad had been thinking when he’d hooked up with her. And even less of an idea as to why he’d married the ice queen. “My best guess is that when you’re a PGA golfer and have your own high caliber of groupies it’s not so difficult to lose sight of what’s real and what’s not. She definitely is not. Never was and never will be.”

“That’s just crazy, considering how down-to-earth your dad is.”

“I know. That’s what has always made this beyond annoying for me. He’d do anything for her—he’d help anyone, whether he knew them or not. He’s genuine. Totally amazing.”

I loved my dad fiercely. I suddenly realized that was likely why I loathed my mother with equal passion.

“He never deserved to be treated the way she treated him,” I said. “She cheated on him; she spent every penny he had when they were married, then made off with an even bigger haul when they divorced. Thanks to her and the team of lawyers my father had to pay for, he and I lived in absolute shit—I’m talking hellholes. After the divorce, she traded in the house awarded to her in the settlement and bought a gorgeous Scottsdale condo. Had it professionally decorated. I was rarely welcomed there.” I shook my head. Waved a hand in the air. “Whatever, right?”

“Don’t dismiss this, Ari. That’s bullshit.” He kept his gaze on me. “You pulled this nonchalant crap when she came at you in the hospital. Wanting to file lawsuits against the investors of 10,000 Lux—and reap the financial benefit personally, despite the fact that you were the one in the ER, bleeding, and thoroughly fucked up.”

I shuddered at the reminder of that entire nightmare. “She didn’t care about any of that—and, of course, she has no idea I’m married to Dane or that Amano is my bodyguard. As for the rest of it, she looked right past the stitches and bruises. Didn’t see them at all. Can you imagine how rabid she’d be if she knew about the wedding? That all of Dane’s money is also mine?”

Perhaps that was my poetic justice. That my mother had done her best to weasel cash from me, thinking I was only worth a small amount, having no idea what my investment portfolio really looked like.

I’d been upset at first that Dane and I were subjected to a private wedding. Being an event planner, naturally I’d wanted a magnificent ceremony and reception. Now it was a huge relief that very few people knew I was Mrs. Dane Bax—and that my mother currently thought I was unemployed because the Lux had been destroyed.

I tried to shove aside the dismay all this brought on. “Really,” I said to Kyle, “the most incredible part about our seclusion is that, right now, I can phase her out. I don’t have a cell phone, since I never replaced the one that went up in flames with the Lux and because our last residence had zero reception in that box canyon. And well, she has no fucking idea where I live.”

I convinced myself all of that was enough to keep the wicked witch from materializing.

In fact, I patted my stomach and grinned. A little peace from Kathryn DeMille drama was a good thing.

Kyle said, “She’ll never know about the kid, will she?”

“Not if I can help it. And let’s face it, Dane is his own wraith. He makes ‘donations’ to ensure only approved photos of him and select information about his investments post to the Internet.” It’d blown my mind he had that sort of influence—and financial stature—to make that happen. But I’d come to realize the importance of safeguarding one’s personal details, especially when involved in such a precarious situation with an Illuminati faction. “There won’t be pictures of our son on the Web, and chances are, it might never even be divulged that Dane and I are married.”

“And you’re okay with that? I mean, the last part?”

I’d already considered this. Sure, what woman wouldn’t want to show off her tall, dark, and sinfully delicious man?

Conversely, after all Dane and I had experienced since getting together I wasn’t opposed to the hush-hush relationship.

So I said, “For now it’s all right. I feel better keeping all of this amongst us. It’s unbelievable how the vultures circle at the tiniest whiff of blood.”

“No shit.”

“Dane’s parents died in a plane crash when he was just a month old. To have grown up with all those vultures had to be difficult,” I lamented. “Dane didn’t even know at such a young age why everyone wanted to be near him, be a part of him, be included in every aspect of his life. Thank God he had Amano looking over his shoulder for him. But even so, Dane eventually had to accept and acclimate to the fact that he was a hot commodity. That couldn’t have been a good feeling, knowing so much of it was based on his bank account.”

I gave this further thought and conceded, “Then, later on, because he’s so damn good-looking.”

Kyle scowled. “That whole skyscraper height and dark, broody looks thing again.” He rolled his eyes. “Whatever.”

I laughed softly. Kyle was six-one, so Dane didn’t exactly dwarf him. “Anyway, we’re all kind of messed up in our own ways, huh?”

“Yeah. I’ll give you that one.”

I didn’t mention Dane’s childhood friend Mikaela Madsen, whom Kyle had also met. She’d had a pretty tumultuous upbringing as well. Mikaela didn’t know I was pregnant or that I’d married Dane. Which meant I also had yet to share with her the miraculous news about Dane surviving the explosion. A peculiar cross to bear in that, of all people, she should be a part of those in the know.

She’d even orchestrated his memorial service at my prompting—since it would have made no sense for me to do it when no one knew Dane and I were more than just boss and employee at the Lux. I knew how torn up Mikaela was about his death. It disturbed me greatly not to be able to ease her pain. Yet there was nothing I could do about it at the moment.

“So,” I ventured, wrapping up my discussion with Kyle. “Do your awesome reconnaissance and I’ll get out of your hair. I have a nursery to decorate.”