Burned Hearts (Burned 3)

“Ari,” Dane murmured in a raspy voice. “You can’t begin to imagine how much I miss you every night I’m away from you.”

“Yes, I can.” I’d been just as tormented by his absence. “But once this is over, nothing will keep us apart ever again.”

“Not if I can fucking help it.”

chapter 5

Over breakfast the next morning, alone on the patio off from our master suite, I broached another touchy subject with Dane.

“I understand the need to keep your Phoenix-rising-from-the-ashes miracle within our tiny group, but I couldn’t help but think of Mikaela yesterday.”

He eyed me speculatively. “The woman who caused you to succumb to jealous tendencies—for absolutely no good reason?”

“Please. She’s drop-dead gorgeous and you’d be lying if you claimed otherwise.”

“She’s attractive. Not my type, though.” His gaze slid over me and he grinned. “And being pregnant with my son makes you even more spectacular.”

“Thank you.” I picked at my omelet a moment while my heart fluttered from the appreciative look Dane gave me. Then I said, “Anyway, about Mikaela. I went to see her after her Italian market opened in Old Town and I put the bug in her ear about a memorial service, which she graciously orchestrated. We’ve talked several times since. She’s really pretty broken up about your ‘death,’ and I was wondering if, at some point, you intend to let her know you made it out of the Lux and that you’re fully intact. Well, relatively speaking.”

I spared a glance at his bandaged shoulder and fought a wince. I hated seeing him injured.

While Dane mulled over my inference of letting Mikaela in on the secret, I nibbled on my breakfast. His other shoulder bunched and I could tell it was a difficult decision for him to make.

Finally, he said, “I really don’t like keeping this from her. I’d never intentionally hurt her.” There was a sudden hint of regret and remorse in his eyes.

“She’ll understand the reasoning behind the confidentiality issue, but still. I imagine she’s pretty tortured over losing you. Sometimes, she’ll bring you up and then—” I shrugged. “It’s like she goes to this place somewhere distant and happier in her head and then pretends to override her misery with some outrageous anecdote. Yet I can hear in her voice it’s all feigned.”

He shoved back his chair. Stood and paced.

“I’m not trying to pull heartstrings,” I gently said. “I just think it’s something to consider. I know you too well, Dane. You’ll want to be the one to deliver the delicate news first, before the media latches on to the story. You’ll want to do it in person, so that she can see you’re okay, that it’s real.”

He raked his hand through his hair, making it even more disheveled. I was momentarily sidetracked, thinking of nothing other than falling back into bed with him.

But then he said, “I trust her completely. She wouldn’t do anything to compromise my safety or my work. Unless—” He shook his head, a bit agitatedly.

“Unless she told Fabrizio.” Her boyfriend and business partner. It was his village in Italy where they imported a good dea

l of their gourmet meats, cheeses, olive oils, and sauces.

The wine they sold all came from top vineyards around Tuscany and Florence. From what I’d gleaned through Mikaela, they were on a mission to get Scottsdale society hooked on bold and expensive Super Tuscans, reigniting the market for those types of wines.

What Mikaela and Brizio knew about Sangioveses, Merlots, Proseccos, et cetera, boggled the mind. I merely collected their recommendations and gifts, having no idea myself about categorizing and rating wines—and not currently being able to sample them. Kyle and Rosa, however, enjoyed every bottle.

Really, it was one more reason to feel inferior in comparison to the uber-sophisticated and worldly Mikaela Madsen, but I conveniently reminded myself that it was me Dane had married. I was the one carrying his child. That took the sting out of Mikaela being so perfect and being so bound to Dane that she’d always turned to him for help.

He stopped his pacing and said, “Whether she could keep this from Brizio is a major concern. One small slip … That could be detrimental to us all. We’re at a very crucial point right now, especially not knowing all that Hilliard—or the rest of the network or society—knows about my existence and my work with the FBI.”

I nodded. “I haven’t brought this up previously for that reason. But thought it should at least be on the table.”

“I’ll give it some thought.” He kissed me on the forehead, then sat. “Eat the rest of your breakfast.”

* * *

Later, Dane reluctantly consented to let me play nursemaid. I hooked him up to the ice machine while he sat on the sofa in our great room, his bare feet propped up on the sturdy coffee table. His computer was in his lap and I caught his frustrated groans because his one hand on the keyboard couldn’t keep up with his lightning-quick thoughts.

He’d told me there were just a few dots left to connect to the indictment puzzle. He was definitely going for the jugular with the society, overturning every possible stone to make sure the maximum amount of evidence against them was brought forth. Any tiny suspicion he had he investigated. No matter what rabbit hole it led him down.

I curled up next to him and quietly searched the Web as well, looking at furniture for the nursery on my iPad. Occasionally shutting off the chilling unit. Letting a little time pass, then switching it back on. Not disturbing Dane.