Secrets of You (9 page)

He shrugged and saluted her with his mug. If she thought measuring coffee grounds and pouring water through a filtered coffee maker was domestic, what would she say if she knew he roasted his own peppers and made a mean pulled pork? He guessed the cooking part impressed women; it had seemed to impress Arianna, the only woman who mattered.

“Pete should be in shortly.” Megan moved toward him, stopped when she was next to his desk and sipped her coffee. She was attractive and sexy and sure as hell shouldn’t be wasting her daydreams on his brother. “When you see him, don’t look at his hair.”

“Why? What did he do?” And then, before she could tell him, he guessed. “He dyed it, didn’t he?”

A tiny smile flitted across her lips. “He calls them highlights.” The smile spread, brightened her entire face. “Golden.” Her voice dipped to a whisper. “A little too golden.”

Ash scowled and rubbed his chin. “What the hell did he go and do that for?”

Megan’s gaze swept over his hair. “He wants to please his wife. Something, anything to make her happy and, you know, forgive him for what he did to you.” She walked around the desk and lifted a few strands of his hair. “I think he was going for your look. Sun-kissed, natural.” She let the hair slip through her fingers. “He didn’t quite succeed.”

“That bad, huh?”

She winced. “Worse.”

Ash shook his head. “Why would he do something so idiotic? This is not at all like Pete.”

“He’s desperate.” Megan perched on the edge of his desk, mug between her hands, serious look on her face. “Have you ever cared so much about someone and all you want is a chance?” Her blue eyes grew bluer, her voice softer. “Because once you had that chance you just knew you could make things work, because you had enough love in your soul for ten people.”

Okay, she was obviously talking about herself and maybe now was the time to inform her that Pete might dye his hair blue or even shave his head, but he loved Caroline.
No one else. And the sooner she accepted that truth, the sooner she could get over the heartache. “Megan, look, we need to have a talk.”

“I know what you’re going to say and I don’t want to hear it.”

“You’re a nice girl, but—”

“No.” She stood and backed away. “Please. Let me have my dreams.” Her bottom lip quivered as she moved toward the door. “There’s no harm in that, is there?”

What could he say to that? He’d held onto dreams of him and Arianna for over two years and not even a forced breakup could dispel them. “At some point, you have to move on.” That’s what he was doing, but hopefully, Arianna was moving on with him.

“I know.
But not now.” She lifted a hand in good-bye and left.

Poor kid.
He actually felt sorry for her. She didn’t love Pete; she only thought she did. What was her plan, anyway? Stand by while his marriage toppled and then swoop down and assuage his ego? Ash wouldn’t say anything as long as the dreams stayed in her head and didn’t lend themselves to action. He turned back to the computer, but his mind strayed from the analyses to Megan and her infatuation with Pete. He was still mulling the situation a half-hour later when his brother appeared in the doorway of his office.

“You look good behind that desk.”

Ash glanced up and wished he hadn’t. Megan hadn’t exaggerated the debacle of Pete’s foray into hair coloring.
Highlights
was too liberal a term, especially when three-quarters of his brother’s head was covered in…yellow. Or was that a bleach? He must have stared a second too long because Pete ran a hand through his hair and said, “Is it that bad?”

“Worse.”

He sank into a chair and sighed. “I just wanted to try it but the second the stylist started painting my head, I knew it was a mistake.”

Ash nodded. He was right there.

“The woman in the salon told me it looked great, that I looked thirty-five.” He rubbed his eyes and blew out a breath. “I don’t, though. I look every bit of my forty-four years, but I feel like a foolish sixteen-year-old.”

“What did Caroline say?”

“She hasn’t seen it yet. The boys are off school today and she took them to her sister’s last night.”

“Good.
No, great. That will give us time to put you back together before she seriously starts to wonder about you.”

“I guess I should return the leather jacket, huh?”

Ash shook his head. “I know you didn’t want me to get involved, but let me talk to Caroline.”

“Well, actually…” Pete toyed with the tassel on his loafer. “She wants to see you, too.” He dragged his gaze to Ash’s. “And she wants to meet Arianna.”

***

Peter Lancaster was an older version of Ash, but stockier, paler, and much more serious. Of course, he’d have to be if he’d taken over the business and the care of his younger brother after his parents’ tragic death. Events like that shaped a person’s life, erased bits and pieces of their personality that would have remained intact had the tragedy not occurred. There was a sad rigidity to the man, evident in the careful selection and cadence of his words, the straightness of his shoulders that could not be comfortable except in their familiarity, and the piercing directness of his brown eyes. Those eyes unsettled Arianna, made her look away as he studied her, even when his tone had been modulated and his words directed at someone else.

She’d known about Peter Lancaster and his success in business long before she learned he was Ash’s older brother.
The Philadelphia Inquirer
counted him among the top five businessmen in the city year after year. Business sections called him a shrewd negotiator who knew how to turn a profit. There must have been pictures of him in local papers and undoubtedly she’d seen them, but his face hadn’t mattered because she had no connection to him. Now she did. He was the man who threatened to shut down Ash’s inheritance if he married Arianna. Shrewd? Absolutely. There was something disconcerting to know a man with such power had his sights trained on her.

When Ash told her his brother wanted to meet her, she’d almost declined. Wealthy, privileged people who pegged others by their bank accounts and discriminated accordingly were not individuals she chose to spend time around. But there’d been something in Ash’s eyes that told
her how much this meant to him, and crazy as it was, she didn’t want to disappoint him. And now, here they were, sitting across from Peter, or Pete, as Ash called him, and his wife, Caroline, in their gazillion-dollar home in the suburbs. Marble. Original artwork. Even a small fountain.

“Arianna, I’d love to see your work.” Caroline Lancaster smiled and added, “I’ll stop in next week and maybe you can make a few suggestions.”

Arianna forced a smile across her lips and managed an answer. “Of course. That would be wonderful.” Caroline seemed nice enough and gracious but that wasn’t the point. Arianna didn’t want another Lancaster prying around her business, asking questions out of curiosity or an attempt to foster friendship. If she discussed her reticence with Quinn, he’d demand Ash shut down his family’s speculations. Ash knew she valued her privacy; he just didn’t know why.

“I’m sure Arianna would be happy to show you the studio,” Ash glanced at her, “but she’s in the middle of a huge project right now, so the tour will have to wait a few weeks. It will be worth it, I guarantee it.” He lifted his beer glass, took a drink. “You’re going to love the jade, Caroline. Set in sterling silver.
Pretty impressive.”

“I’ll look forward to it.”

There was a touch of wistfulness laced in her voice and a sadness in her blue eyes that almost made Arianna interrupt and tell her to come tomorrow. But she didn’t. She’d stopped worrying about making everyone happy and not disappointing others years ago…after her repeated attempt to reconcile with her father ended in hurt and disillusionment. She might not want the woman snooping around, but she could be polite. “Are you interested in art?”

Caroline traced the base of her wine glass and didn’t answer at first. “I’m interested in work that has passion, no matter the form.
Writing, dance, pottery.” Her laughter flitted over them, desperate and empty. “Even pulling weeds, if it’s done with enthusiasm and dedication.”

“I don’t think the gardeners would agree, dear.” A rush of pink tinged Peter Lancaster’s
neck, swirled to his cheeks in a flush that had nothing to do with the wine in his glass. “People find purpose in all different avenues, paid and non-paid endeavors.”

His wife sipped her wine with deliberateness. “Of course they do, but some let money define their purpose.” She studied her glass and did not look at him. “Others let money control them, or those they love.”

Ash coughed. Arianna sipped in air and stared at her plate. Caroline cleared her throat and said, “I’m sorry. I’ve ruined the evening and we haven’t even eaten our salads yet.” She clutched her husband’s hand and squeezed. “Pete wanted to wait until after dinner, but I can’t sit here and pretend we don’t all know why you’re here, Arianna.”

“Caroline, what’s going on?” Ash stared at his sister-in-law, confused and clearly not pleased.

“Let me speak, Ash. It’s important. Pete’s committed the unforgiveable: He’s come between two people who love each other and threatened that love.” She shook her head and sniffed. “I don’t know how he can live with himself, and there are times when I don’t know how I can continue to live with him.”

“Caroline. Please.” There was torment and real pain in Peter Lancaster’s voice.

“Oh, Pete, I know you regret your actions.” She swiped at a tear. “And I’m certain we’re making Ash and Arianna miserable with embarrassment, but I can’t pretend. Say what needs saying, and do it now.” She paused, then added, “All of it.”

“No.” The word spun around the room, landed back on Ash. He gentled his tone, but there was an unusual forcefulness behind his words. “I don’t think that’s necessary. I’ve explained things to Arianna; can’t we just let it go? I told her what a great cook you are and I’ve been looking forward to that chateaubriand of yours.”

“Ash. It’s got to be said.” Caroline nodded toward her husband. “And Pete’s got to say it.”

If she could disappear, Arianna would choose this exact moment to vaporize. She blinked hard but when she opened her eyes, Peter Lancaster was staring straight at her, tears in his eyes, a pained look on his face. He did not appear powerful, or shrewd, or in command.

“When our parents died, it was my job to take care of Ash. He was only nine. Kids shouldn’t lose a parent at such a young age, but to lose two the way he did? I couldn’t stand thinking about the fallout from it. I was nineteen and could barely deal with it, but I was determined to see my little brother was loved and protected from everything.” Ash reached under the table and clasped Arianna’s hand. “I tried to control everything—his friends, his successes, his life. I refused to let him fail and did my damnedest to limit any unpleasantness.” He sighed. “I created a monster.”

Ash’s lips twitched.
“But a nice one.”

Peter shrugged and squeezed his wife’s hand. “I have a hard time giving up control. Keeping things in order and managing problems have been what I’ve done since the minute I got the phone call about our parents. It’s hard to retrain your brain when you’re zeroed in on taking over and making things work. I guess I figured if I could control something, I could manage the outcome. But Ash was so”—he paused—“reckless.” His gaze skittered from Ash to Arianna.
“He loaned huge sums of money to people who were clearly using him and had no intention of paying him back. Many didn’t even know him. Not really. That didn’t stop Ash from doling out thousands, taking spur of the moment trips to Pamplona to see the running of the bulls, or heading to Australia to watch the perfect sunset.”

“I forgot about Pamplona.” Ash leaned toward Arianna and said, “You would not have enjoyed it.
Too many non-functioning bathrooms.”

“But that didn’t stop Ash from hiring a tour guide and taking a side trip to Morocco where I didn’t hear from him for ten days. I thought he’d been killed or held for ransom by the group of nomads he was traveling with. So, when I found out he had a fiancée I’d never heard of, and he planned to marry her without telling me, I thought it was another reckless scheme.”

Arianna sat very still. “How did you find out?” She had to know what else he may have uncovered.

“I have a private investigator I’ve used for years.”

“Since middle school,” Ash said.

Peter reddened. “I know it sounds terrible, but Ash was an easy target. Money meant nothing to him because he had too much of it and no respect for it. He was angry about our parents,
which made him erratic and reckless, and I’m sure the reason I have—” he coughed and touched the side of his head “—gray hair.”

Ash jumped in. “At least I didn’t give you those god-awful blond highlights men are getting these days. Gray is cool, don’t you think, Caroline?”

“Yes.” She brushed her fingers through her husband’s hair. “I do.”

The flush spread to Peter’s ears and he flashed a warning look at Ash. Something had happened that had to do with hair and highlights and apparently neither man planned to divulge what that something was.

Peter cleared his throat and said, “Arianna, Ash didn’t break up with you because I threatened to cut him off.” He cleared his throat. “He did it to protect you.”