Chapter Seven #2
I slip out of the ballroom. A woven basket offers thick blankets and shawls.
I grab one and wrap it around my shoulders.
The deck just off the ballroom is crowded with people in tuxedos and elegant gowns.
Waiters drift in and out, holding trays of champagne and appetizers.
Fire pits and outdoor heaters battle back the cold.
I move past the crowd, heading for the stairs. Each step takes me farther away from the crowd and deeper into the cold.
The upper deck is simply designed, a slate gray stone floor with a glass railing and a couple of black chairs and benches for those who want to linger and take in the view.
The posts in between the glass have circular lights built into the base.
The dim lighting lets my eyes adjust to take in what little I can see of the borders of Tingvellir National Park.
From what little I can see, it’s stunning.
Craggy rocks, shaped by generations of volcanic activity.
Deeper in the park are waterfalls, fissures, and even a lake with an underwater gorge running between tectonic plates.
Another place I want to come back to. If there’s time.
That sense of oddness, almost like an ache, returns at the thought of leaving Iceland. It’ll go away. My emotions are off. I’m reaching out, grasping on to the familiarity of nature to steady me as I grapple with a situation I never imagined possible.
With a man I never should have looked twice at.
I came out to the gala early, needing something to focus on besides my tumultuous evening with Ari.
It’s been two days since he walked out. Two days of briefings in the morning, followed by detailed reports at the end of the day.
Each meeting with him has been quick and frosty—a recitation of what I did that day as I reviewed contracts, met with members of the Hellas Shipping team, the AuraGeothermal board of directors.
Business. What I do every day in my job.
Except each time I saw Ari, each time I talked with him, I saw the way he looked in the restaurant—the flash of pain before his emotions vanished behind a wall of ice.
I reach the top deck of the hotel. I look up, as has become my habit over the past few days. But once again, I’m thwarted by the clouds scuttling across the sky.
“Only forty percent of Icelandic tourists see the Northern Lights.”
My body tenses even as the warm huskiness of his voice flows over me.
“Maybe I was just looking at the clouds.”
There’s silence behind me, then a slight, barely audible chuckle.
“Iceland has plenty to offer.”
My heart twists. I missed that, the casual camaraderie we had started to develop. The easy way I can just…talk to him. Not watch everything I say. Similar to the ease of my relationship with Liam and Aislinn.
I’ve never felt that way about anyone else. Not even Brian. The harder he pushed, the more I resisted. Not once did I feel the instant ease I experienced with Ari, that snap of connection.
And look what happened.
I turn. Ari is standing at the top of the stairs, looking impossibly handsome in his black tuxedo.
The material molds perfectly to his broad shoulders, trim waist, and muscular thighs.
I can think of a dozen men who would look ridiculous in a bow tie, but Ari commands it, every inch the leader he is.
“It was a good speech,” I say, trying to keep my tone neutral.
He tucks his hands into his pockets and wanders toward me. “I’m glad my negotiator approved. Xenakis seemed to approve, too. And given that he’s had at least two shots of Brennivin, I’m not surprised.”
I bite back a smile. “I wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth on this one.”
He walks toward me, slow, measured steps that make my heart race.
“You left.”
My breath hitches in my throat. “I just needed some fresh air.”
“Did you?”
He’s staring at me, demanding answers when I have none to give.
I hesitate. I want nothing more than to go to him, to reach out and touch him.
But it would be the stupidest thing I could do.
Not just for my professional career, not for the goals he set for his company, but for us.
We’re both damaged people, hurting, burdened by guilt for the one thing we have in common: Liam.
“Go back to the party, Mr. Valdasson.”
“What about you?”
I tilt my head to one side. “What about me?”
“It’s freezing.”
“Are you always this observant?”
He swears. “Why did you leave the ballroom?”
I think of the redhead. Try not to let my jealousy show. “I told you, I needed some air. It’s been a long day.”
“Really?” He walks toward me, slowly, eyes glittering in the dim lighting. “Because I saw the way you looked at Vanessa and me.”
“It’s none of my concern.”
I repeat his words from the other night. Tell myself they’re true even as I ache inside.
“Dance with me.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
He holds out a hand. “Dance with me.”
Stupid. I stare at his hand, try to stifle the want that surges inside me. It would be so stupid to dance with him.
My heart takes hold of my body before my brain can catch up.
I place my hand in his. His fingers close over mine and he pulls me closer.
My breath catches as one arm wraps around my waist, his hand splaying across my back.
We move across the terrace with slow, lazy movements.
A gentle wind makes the gauzy cape of my dress dance behind me.
Ari stares down at me, eyes searching, probing.
Heat suffuses my body. I pause, drape the shawl over a chair as we spin past. Cold air kisses my bare shoulders, but I barely register it.
“Vanessa is a lawyer.”
My mind blanks for a moment. “Vanessa?”
“The redhead.”
I look down, hope he doesn’t see my petty jealousy. “She’s beautiful.”
“She’s not a lover.”
I hate the flicker of relief in my chest. “It’s not—”
“No, it’s not any of your concern. I thought about not saying anything when I saw you leave the ballroom.” His fingers tighten on mine. “But then I decided to give you the answers I’ve wanted for the past three months.”
I press my lips together, look away.
“Ari—”
Imagine,” he continues as he draws me closer, hard muscle beneath the silk of his tuxedo, “how I’ve felt, Diana.
Three months. Three months of trying to distance myself from the thought of you, the feel of you, because every thought is a betrayal to my brother.
The one I searched for four years after thinking him dead for most of my life. ”
My eyes widen. “Dead?”
He cocks his head to one side. “Liam didn’t tell you?”
“No. No, we… A friend of ours was going through a rough patch at the time. He told me a couple days before you and I met that you had contacted him. That you were going to have dinner.”
“Our mother had an affair. Given that my father had half a dozen in the years prior to when she fell pregnant, I’d say she was justified.” The fury in his tone evaporates as a shadow passes over his face. “She died giving birth to Liam. My father told me Liam died with my mother.”
Oh God.
“How did you even find out he existed?”
“I came across documents about Liam’s birth during the takeover.
Papers with my father’s signature approving Liam being sent to America to be adopted.
He could have cared less if she had her own affairs.
But he took her getting pregnant with someone else’s baby as an insult.
” He glances over my shoulder, out into the darkness.
“Even then, there was barely anything to go on. No adoption agency, no record of what name he was given.”
“And then he registered for the ancestry website,” I murmur.
Ten months ago. The last night I remember Liam, Aislinn, and I together before Aislinn started to slip away.
Aislinn had suggested doing the DNA kit.
Liam and I had gone along with it because it had been important to her.
We gathered at my apartment, completed the swabs, and mailed in our samples.
We went out afterward and got a round of drinks to celebrate.
One step forward. Aislinn had laughed as she’d raised her glass of champagne in a toast.
We’d been so happy that night. None of us could have imagined the falls awaiting us.
“I’m sorry, Ari.”
His gaze snaps back to me. “Sorry?”
I raise my chin. “Yes.”
“Tilgangslaust.”
My jaw clenches. “I don’t know Icelandic, but I gather that wasn’t complimentary.”
“Meaningless.” The word slices through me. “My brother lost his birth family, then his adoptive family, and spent years in foster care when he should have had the stability and luxury I grew up in.”
Beneath the anger vibrating in his voice, I hear the guilt. The ache.
“And then, just when I have the chance to make things right, you walk in the door holding his hand. Less than a day,” he adds cuttingly, “after leaving my bed. I have never once swayed from doing what needed to be done. But you, Diana, put me in a position where I had to choose between telling my brother that his fiancée had been naked beneath me the night before or letting him enjoy his happiness.”
My heart breaks. I should have told Liam. But I took the coward’s way out, let fear make my choices for me.
“I’m not—”
“And then I overhear you say ‘I love you’ to him. You told me things were over.” His hand tightens around mine. “Are you toying with him?”
“No!” I pause, glance around to make sure we’re still alone. “I told you, Liam and I have been friends for years. We’ve said ‘I love you’ since…”
My voice trails off. A hospital. Machines beeping. The pain thankfully faint under the power of medication. Aislinn sitting in a chair on one side of the bed. Liam on the other. Both holding my hands.
We love you, Diana. We’re not going anywhere.
I believed them. And now, for whatever reason, Aislinn is gone. What if Liam disappears when I tell him the truth?
My gaze flickers to Ari. I know he won’t be around. He despises me. But for one moment, I let myself feel the ache that rooted itself inside my heart the morning I woke up wrapped in his arms. The first time I ever truly longed for something more with a man.
“Since when?” Ari demands.
I blink, refocus “Years. Well before our engagement, and we’ll probably keep saying it until we’re dead. I love him. But I’m not in love with him.”
I never was, I want to scream.
“Yet you were at one point.” Ari presses forward, relentless and determined. “You said yes to his proposal. You wore his ring.”
“I did.” My reply is weary, my entire body exhausted.
Ari’s eyes narrow. “You said yes and you wore the ring. But you were never in love with him, were you?”
Damn it. I walked straight into that. If Ari detects any inconsistencies, I have no doubt he’ll investigate until every secret is laid bare.
I start to pull away. Ari’s hand comes up, past the edge of fabric and onto my bare back. His fingers graze the tops of my scars.
I freeze. Shock tethers me to the ground as my breath hitches in my throat. A prickling sensation creeps up my back. A prickling that flares into fire. I can feel it, feel the belt.
“Diana?”
His voice sounds far away, like he’s talking underwater.
I pull back and this time he lets me. I reach out, grab the railing.
A shudder passes through me as I fight back against the memories, tell myself the pain isn’t real.
But my own words are drowned out by the phantoms of my past. Lucy’s frantic barking.
Dale’s angry shouts. Adrenaline pumping through me, propelling me across the yard.
I tense, readying for it. The first snap of the leather right before the pain. I flinch once. Twice. Three times.
“Diana!”
Ari’s voice breaks through. My breathing is fast, hard. Slowly, I manage to get it back under control, to push away the nightmares and ground myself in the present.
I force myself to look at Ari. He’s staring at me, hands curled at his sides, his jaw tight. There’s shock in his eyes. Shock and anger.
He knows. Through my receding panic, I can see him connect the dots. That, more than the memories, strips me bare. Leaves me raw and vulnerable.
I did this. I let him get close. Opened the door that night in New York when I let my guard down and shared parts of myself I’ve never shared with anyone. Not Liam and Aislinn, not former lovers.
And now we’ve slid even deeper. It doesn’t matter if Ari never asks, if I never tell him. He knows the scars are there.
I’ll be furious with myself later. Use this to maintain the distance I should have been maintaining all this time. But for now, I wrap numbness around me like a shield.
“I’m fine.” I force myself to walk calmly to the chair where I left the shawl. Wrap it around my shoulders. “It just…” I clear my throat. “An old injury.”
He’s still angry. But his eyes soften a fraction. It’s enough to have me wanting to lean into him, to share even more.
And therein lies the danger. The more I share, the more I fall. The deeper I fall, the harder it will be to pull myself out of the darkness when he leaves.
Sooner or later, they all leave.
“Diana—”
“I’m going back inside.”
He doesn’t follow me as I walk away.