Marrying Mari (27 page)

Heading for a single chair, Gabriel redirected himself toward the windows, shoving aside the heavy silk drapes to look out over the city. In the window’s reflection, he saw Ethan roam restlessly by the black marble mantelpiece, hands in pockets. Gabriel sighed and turned back toward Mariella.

“We need to talk about last night,” she said, not looking at either of them. She put her helmet down by her feet.

“Let me start. I was an idiot,” Gabe said, fast and firm, his voice deep. “I fucking hate my parents and seeing you with Angelica, hearing you two talk about a secret, it cut me up. She’s always been poison to me. I knew it when I was eighteen, I knew it when I was eight, maybe I knew it in the womb.” He sat in a chair directly across from Mari but clasped his hands together to keep from reaching out for her. He stared at her face. “I figured it out last night. I woke up in the middle of the night and I knew.”

Mari looked at him. “She found my bracelet.”

“Don’t! Don’t protect her, and God, don’t protect me. Not after what I did. I believed her. I walked out on you. I left you with her. She hurt you, didn’t she?” Gabe stared at her.

“Yes.” Mari swallowed. “But it wasn’t your fault.”

He shifted onto the sofa next to her. “She
hurt
you. Let me see.” He unzipped her jacket and pushed it off her shoulders. Gently, he moved the sleeve of her T-shirt out of the way. Unwound the gauze and bared the marks of Angelica’s nails. The marks were still purple and red, the places where Mari’s skin had been pierced darker, still looking angry despite the antiseptic she’d used all day. He turned her arm to see the outside, then the inside. Mariella heard him snarl, deep in his chest, a low angry rumble of sound that escaped into the room.

“Gabriel!” she said, startled.

Ethan came closer. “Angelica did this?” He was pale with fury. He reached out, then pulled back. “Why?”

Gabriel held her arm as if it was the most precious thing in the world. “Because Mari figured out that Angelica, my delightful mother, arranged for my seduction at sixteen. Right?” he asked, looking into her eyes.

“Yes,” she said, looking back.

Gabe smiled, without humor. “I should have guessed. I was so busy congratulating myself on being such a stud, when I should have realized those women wouldn’t come near me without Angelica’s okay. And that she would use anything to consolidate her power.” He glanced at Ethan. “You knew.”

Ethan shook his head. “I wondered, later. She was very pleased all summer. Too pleased.” The men shared a look. “And she was constantly surrounded by those ex-lovers of yours.”

Gabriel shrugged. “What the hell. I feel stupid for not having figured it out sooner, but I wasn’t exactly innocent in the whole thing. Those women were married, I knew it, and I kept going back. Hey, I liked the sex.” He stared down at the marks on her arm.

Mari lifted his chin and looked him in the eye. “You were innocent. Sixteen! You were a child. Angelica and those women should be, I don’t know, something bad. Something terrible that would make them very, very sorry.
I’ll
make them sorry.” She frowned fiercely, and Gabriel laughed, although his chest was tight again, in a good way, and his eyes were wet.

“You forgive me then?”

“For what?”

“For being a dumbass, as Irene would say, and jumping to conclusions. For acting like a bastard and treating you so coldly. For letting Angelica hurt you.”

“I forgive you, but you didn’t let her.” She kissed him lightly on the lips. “And remember, you’re
my
dumbass.”

“Damn, Mari.” He cupped her cheek to kiss her and she smiled at him.

“We’re not done yet,” Ethan said. He sat across from her and gently lifted her wrist into the light. Paler bruises, obviously made by a man’s hand, circled the delicate limb. Ethan clarified, “I did this when I dragged you out of there last night. Didn’t I?” he asked her.

“Yes.”

Gabriel looked at Mari’s wrist. His jaw tightened. Ethan laid Mariella’s arm carefully across her lap and stood, moving away from her. Gabe glared at him.

“How else did I hurt you?” Ethan was still pale, standing by the mantel again, not looking at her, both hands clenched on the marble edge.

“You wrenched my arm.” Her voice was low but steady.

“Jesus.” Gabe said, disgusted. He took Mari’s wrist carefully in his hand and studied it.

Ethan swallowed. “I’m sorry.” He stopped and started again. “There’s no excuse. None.”

She lifted her head.

“Miami,” she said.

“Don’t.” Ethan pounded a fist on the mantel’s surface. He couldn’t breathe, but he turned back to face her.

“I’m not ashamed of that time in my life,” she said levelly, “but there are parts of it that aren’t nice.” She looked directly into his eyes. “I never stripped. I never danced. Yes, I worked in sleazy clubs. As a waitress. I even worked a couple private parties as a waitress. In one of the first places, the manager told me I had to go topless, something he had neglected to say when he hired me for the overtime. I was broke. I worked, with bare tits, for two hours and left without being paid because I couldn’t stop crying. But I couldn’t get a better job. I had no experience. I thought, well, I was naïve. I got over the worst of it and worked steadily with my clothes on. Eventually I met a girl who liked stripping, but her boyfriend was a bike messenger. That’s how I started. They helped me get hired, vouched for me. But that was eight months into an eighteen-month stay in Miami. It took me the eighteen months to earn what I had set as a goal. If I’d stayed in the clubs, it would only have taken a year. Maybe less.”

Ethan said, “Don’t say anything more. I don’t need an explanation.”

She held up a hand. “I made more money working as a waitress in strip joints than in a regular restaurant. And I wanted the money for college. It was a compromise, one that I thought I was willing to make. But I was grateful when I could stop.” She bit her lip. “What I don’t understand is why would it matter? You and Gabriel have told me about the women, the one-night stands and casual relationships and ménages you’ve had, over a decade’s worth. Why would eighteen months of me stripping matter to you? You were upset when I was a virgin. Why wouldn’t you be glad I had some experience to make the sex better, instead of none?”

“I don’t know.” The words came from some place deep inside him. He covered his face with his shaking hands. “When Peter told me what he’d found out, it just made me crazy. I felt betrayed. I went crazy.”

There was silence.

Gabriel said, “Peter told you he’d heard this from friends?”

“Yes, but he said he’s spoken to two clubs himself. That the managers had verified the details.” Ethan exchanged a look with Gabriel. “He lied.” He closed his eyes. “Damn. I believed him. Stupid of me.” Ethan shoved to his feet and paced, closed his hand around Mari’s triad ring, which he had carried in his pocket all day. Turned and looked into her stormy eyes. “I’m sorry. For the record, I was upset you were a virgin because I was afraid I hurt you, not because I wanted you to be sexually experienced.” He glared at her. “And not because the sex wasn’t good. Damn, Mari, couldn’t you tell I was insane with wanting you that night! I was out of control, rough, and I’m bigger than you and stronger. I hurt you. Like I did last night.” He said the last in a furious voice.

“Ethan has control issues,” Gabriel said in a dry tone.

“You’re right, I do. If I’m not in control, you see what happens. I hurt you.”

“Why didn’t you just ask me about Miami? I would have told you the truth.”

“I don’t know.”

“You don’t trust me?” she persisted.

“Look around. Of course we trust you. You’re living in our house, sleeping in our bed. We’re talking about having children with you.”

“I’m not talking about Gabriel, I’m talking about you.”

He growled in frustration and tried to turn away again, but she planted herself in front of him. Gabe watched tightly from a few feet away, ready to step in. “Dammit. All right,
I
trust you.”

“Then why not simply ask me?”

“I don’t know.”

“You do know, you just don’t want to tell me.”

His hands were clenched so hard the knuckles were white, but he wouldn’t touch her. “I told you I
do
trust you!” Ethan bit out. “I don’t trust—” He stopped.

“What, Ethan? Just tell me, straight out.” She stepped into him, laid her hands on his rigid arms. She backed him against the mantle, stared up at him with her suddenly soft eyes.

He stared at her, breathing heavily, afraid to move. “These feelings. I don’t trust these fucking feelings. I’m all churned up inside. Since the minute that damned phone call came from the hospital, all I can do is feel. A need so big, I see you and I want to throw you down on that couch and fuck you. I need to be inside you, every second. I need to see you smile at me. I need to feel your arms around me. I need to tell you that you’re mine and hear you say I’m yours. I need you to be between us every night, always.” There was a silence, and then he continued more quietly, in a voice with a hard edge. “When Peter told me last night, when he gave me the details, I just saw red. The image of you taking off your clothes, stripping naked, in front of crowds of strangers made me furious. At you for doing it, for wanting to do it. Maybe liking it, getting off on it. At myself for not knowing you were doing it and stopping you. Protecting you, because I know you hated it. Not leaving you vulnerable.”

“That was five years ago. I didn’t even know you then.”

He smiled, a grim smile. “I know. I didn’t say I was rational. I was angry at Peter for knowing, even though I asked him to look into it. I wanted to plant my fist in his face and shut him up. It was like something cracked inside me. I just went berserk. I wanted to protect you. I wanted to drag you out of there and scream at you that you were ours and no one else’s. And now, seeing those marks on you I want to hunt down Angelica. But I hurt you too and I don’t know what to do with that.” He shut up.

“Is that the way you feel about me? Angry?”

Ethan let out a short laugh. “Baby, the way I feel about you…” He shook his head helplessly.

“Hallelujah! He loves you,” Gabriel said.

“Is that what this is?” Ethan asked, looking at his friend. “Because I swear I’ve never felt this way before. Nothing like this. I’m shattered. Unsettled. Crazy.” He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Gabe. “You knew, last week.”

Gabriel shrugged and relaxed. “I did.”

“You weren’t like this.”

“Maybe I didn’t fight it as hard as you. Why is that?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Mari bit her lip and backed up to sit on the couch again. “Don’t you want to love me? Is there something wrong with me?”

Ethan froze. “Oh, baby, no, there’s nothing wrong with you. No, it’s me.” He laughed harshly. “Since I met you, half the time I feel desperate and vulnerable. Last night I was all jagged inside, and it was easier to be angry outside. In my life, in
my
life, everyone always does exactly what I want.”

“I don’t.” Gabe said, appalled.

“Everyone else does. I do exactly what I want. When I want, how I want. I was fifteen when I decided to get out of the Colony. I made a plan and it fell into place.”

“Thank God,” interjected Gabriel.

“I used my money, my influence, whatever to get exactly what I wanted. No one stopped me. I’ve kept everyone at a distance, because I could and it was just easier that way. I never had to be afraid of losing anything, but I spent today terrified you wouldn’t come back. That’s a sledgehammer to my heart and my head, because I don’t control you. I want to control you, I want to roll you up in a soft, warm blanket and keep you in our bed always. Safe from everything, including me. But I don’t want to own you.” Ethan knelt in front of her, still not touching her, looking up at her with those stark blue eyes, naked with pain and vulnerability. “I just
want
you. Need you. All the time, every minute. That’s new.” He laid his head on her knees and slid his arms around her, clutching at the loose fabric of her cargo pants. “I love you.” His voice was rough, raw. His eyes were wet, and tears dampened the fabric under his cheek. He was exhausted but oddly safe.

She stroked his hair gently. “I love you too, Ethan. So much. I love you.” She looked up and saw Gabriel through tears. Blinked, and saw the most beautiful smile break across his gorgeous face. Mari smiled and held out a hand to Gabe, who came to her on the couch. “I love you.” She kissed Gabriel on the lips, and he wrapped an arm around her, letting her feel his strong heartbeat under her cheek. He rested one hand on Ethan’s shoulder and smiled. His family.
Finally
.

They sat like that, silent and connected, for a while.

Sometime later, Gabriel spoke against her hair. “Let me call Greta about your arm.”

“It’s done. I took care of it and it hardly hurts. You can put ointment on it and wrap it up, if you want,” she told Gabriel.

“Oh, I want, sugar. Anything you want.” He smiled at her.

She dropped her eyes down to Ethan, who was lying now with his head in her lap. “Can we do it upstairs? In bed?” She cast a glance at Gabe from the corner of her eye.