Blazing Midsummer Nights (Harlequin Blaze) (20 page)

First, that she’d need anybody’s help or guidance to run the company in which she’d already invested all of her adult life.

Second, that it would be Dimitri she’d need that help from.

And third—big, huge, ridiculous assumption—that she’d marry the dude in order to get the job she already damn well deserved.

This time, he couldn’t stop himself from jumping in. He strode over to Mimi and the idiots on either side of her, snapping, “That’s nuts.”

Mimi, whose mouth was still hanging open in shock, as if she couldn’t even find any words, eyed him gratefully.

“Excuse me, who, exactly, are you?” Burdette asked, one brow going up in a supercilious expression.

“I’m Xander McKinley,” he said. “Your daughter’s…friend.”

Her father might not have understood the pause, but the ex-boyfriend sure did. Dimitri’s whole body jerked, his back going so straight he could have been set down at the edge of a pool and used as a diving board. He couldn’t have looked more shocked if he’d opened the
Wall Street Journal
and found out his portfolio bubble had suddenly burst.

Well, maybe one bubble had. His I’m-irreplaceable bubble.

“Well, as my daughter’s friend, I would think you’d be congratulating her about now,” her father said, looking back and forth between Mimi and the two men. This time, he didn’t sound arrogant, but rather genuinely confused. “She’s getting the job she’s always wanted, and a marriage proposal… .” He suddenly broke off, flushing lightly. “I apologize, Dimitri, I realize we hadn’t talked about that part on the way over. Perhaps we should have taken Mimi’s suggestion and gone inside so you could ask her properly.”

We should have gone inside.
Meaning the proud papa would have been standing right there to give his blessing over what should be a very private moment between two people.

Of course, that moment wasn’t gonna happen. No way, no how. Not between those two people, anyway.

To give him credit, Dimitri now looked as lost for words as Mimi. His throat wobbled as he swallowed. And, for some reason, instead of glancing at the woman he was being ordered to propose to, he cast a quick, anxious stare toward the table. Toward Helen.

Xander watched as she stared back, the color draining out of her pretty face. When she mumbled an excuse about needing to go inside for something and dashed into the house, Dimitri took the tiniest step, as if to go after her. But that’s as far as he got. Whether he was held back by his feelings for Mimi, his concerns about his job or just gutlessness, Xander couldn’t say.

Mimi finally found her voice. “Dad, this is madness. I’m not going to marry Dimitri.”

“Of course you are, it’s all arranged!”

Dimitri cleared his throat. “Now look, Philip, I know you said you wanted…”

“They’re not even dating anymore,” Xander snapped, unable to stay out of the conversation. Something inside him rebelled at the very mention of Mimi being with anybody except himself. “She dumped him last weekend. They’re finished, and she’s moved on.”

All three of them turned their focus directly on him. Except, Mimi’s didn’t stay there. She dropped her lashes quickly, hiding her eyes. And Xander started to feel an unpleasant tingling in the base of his spine.

“You did break up with him, right?” he asked her, needing her to confirm it.

“No, she didn’t,” Dimitri said.

Xander froze, so shocked he didn’t know
what
to say.

Mimi had lied to him? She was still with this dude, who might want to propose to her, but might also want to run in after his ex? And both of them were dancing on the ends of the puppet strings being jerked by a Southern millionaire who had obviously been reincarnated from an age when fathers did shit like arrange their adult daughters’ marriages to men who would “advise and guide” them.

Crazy. It was all entirely, completely crazy.

But craziest of all was that first, initial fact that had slammed him hard in the heart: Mimi had lied to him. She’d been sleeping with him all week, sharing the most amazingly intimate moments, sharing conversations and dreams and fantasies. And all the while, she’d been stringing along another—more suitable—guy. The one her father had obviously handpicked for her.

The one she had to marry if she wanted the job of her dreams.

“I’m sorry,” Xander said, his tone as icy as his heart suddenly felt. “I was obviously misinformed.”

“There was nothing to break up,” Mimi insisted, her attention totally on him. “We weren’t even…”

“What is going
on
here?” Philip Burdette interrupted, finally cluing in to the vibe swirling around the rest of them. Then he threw a hand up, palm out. “Never mind, I don’t want to know. I’ll only say this—Mimi, you’ve always said you wanted what’s best for our family, to continue our proud heritage, and I’ve believed you. If you meant it, you’ll do the right thing. Marry Dimitri, run the company with him, preserve it for your children and your children’s children.”

“Dad, I’m not going to…”

“
Marry him
and run it together, or forget about ever taking over as CEO.”

She jerked as if she’d been slapped.

Xander was mad as hell at Mimi, feeling betrayed and gutted, but his heart was also breaking for her. Thinking of the moments he’d had with his own parents, the way they’d never, in his entire lifetime, made him feel anything less than loved, appreciated and wanted, he longed to take her in his arms and soothe her.

But he couldn’t. Not now, not when he was still angry. Not now when he really had no idea where he stood with the woman.

One thing he could do was say his piece to Mr. Rich-and-Arrogant, who obviously got his way a little too often and hadn’t learned to take no for an answer.

“She doesn’t love him,” he snapped. “And if you don’t change your ways, and your attitude, pretty soon she’s not going to love you, either.”

Burdette flinched, then began to sputter.

Xander ignored him. “Don’t you realize what you’ve done, and what you’re on the verge of throwing away? If I ever had a daughter and made her feel
half
as crappy about herself as you do, or ever gave one tiny hint that I wasn’t overjoyed to have been blessed with my child’s presence in my life—no matter what their sex—I’d go right out and jump off a bridge.”

He was breathing hard, feeling the heat in his face, and glowering at the older man, so it took a second before he heard the clapping. Casting a quick glance across the lawn, he saw Anna, Obi-Wan and Will all applauding and nodding their agreement.

As for Burdette, he was so red in the face he looked like his head was about to pop of. His mouth kept jerking, and his head shaking, like he was forming an entire litany of scathing retorts, but couldn’t come up with just the right one to lead off the assault.

Mimi was watching in silence, tears streaming down her face. Dimitri had grown a little pale, and had shoved his hands in his pockets.

And Xander had just had enough.

Christ, these people didn’t know the meaning of sacrifice or loss or heartache. Perfect jobs and getting to push people around and always dancing to somebody else’s tune…what a lot of bullshit. None of it mattered a damn compared to love and loss, to family and commitment.

He wondered if any of them would even understand the concept if he tried to explain it.

Doubtful. Right now, he wasn’t even sure Mimi got it, and that broke his heart more than anything.

So without as much as another glance at any of them, he turned on his heel.

“Xander!” Mimi called.

It was damned hard, but he managed to ignore her. He couldn’t talk to her, not right now, not until he had calmed down and really thought about whether he wanted someone to have the power to hurt him the way she just had.

So, without a single backward glance, he strode out of the yard to his car, got in it and drove away as fast and as far as he could.

11

B
Y THE TIME
M
IMI
had gotten her brain functioning again and realized Xander was leaving, it had been too late to stop him. Nor had she had the slightest clue where he might have gone. So instead of going after him, which she desperately wanted to do, she’d stayed put and cleared the air, once and for-all, with her father.

It had been bad.

It had also been incredibly liberating.

She’d felt positively released, finally being able to say what she thought and felt. Xander’s parting words had filled her with confidence, because he’d verbalized everything she’d always felt but hadn’t been able to say.

She only wished he’d stayed around to hear it.

“Where are you?” she mumbled, glancing at the clock and seeing it was after one.

She’d tried calling his cell phone and had left a few messages. Had tried the station house. Eventually, she had accepted the fact that he would come back when he was ready to talk and she just had to deal with the wait. It was the least she could do, considering what he’d done for her.

No one had ever stood up for her like that. The way he had taken her side, leaping to her defense, even when he was angry with her, had brought tears to her eyes.

And steel to her spine.

It was the echo of Xander’s words that she’d heard when she’d finally given her father an answer to his ridiculous ultimatum. And his strength she’d borrowed from to stand firm against the hurricane that had broken over her head when she’d done it. Thankfully, the storm hadn’t included any squalls from Dimitri, who’d quietly insisted he had no intention of proposing, thank God. Of course, after that, her father had then been furious with them both.

I need to thank you, Xander. I need to hold you.

I need to tell you I love you.

But she couldn’t do a damn thing until he came home.

So she went to bed, thinking about tomorrow, about the conversation they’d have. About how she had to make him believe her when she told him everything that was in her heart and all the wishes and dreams that filled her soul.

They’d have a lot of time to talk, no doubt about that.

Oy.
Unemployment wasn’t going to be fun. But instead of making her worry, the thought actually made her grin.

Quitting her job might have been impulsive and emotional and scary as hell. But now that she’d done it, she had realized it was the only way she could ever be happy. Not only because she needed to go out and prove herself, but also because she would never have a decent relationship with her family until she separated her business life from her private one.

Her father would forgive her. Someday. Hopefully.

Finally, when the clock was nearing three and she still felt no nearer to relaxing, she got up and went into the kitchen. She was about to pour herself a glass of milk when she spotted the little pouch of tea that Obi-Wan had given her a couple of weeks ago. There was enough left for one more cup. She hadn’t touched it again after that second night, and now felt in the need of a few soothing, relaxing sips. Maybe it would help her get a few hours’ sleep before what she thought could be the most important conversation of her life.

Brewing the cup and carrying it to her room, she took a small sip. And once again, like the last time, all her senses awakened and her memories began to churn, taunting her with images she couldn’t quite place. It was as if a stream of warm lava had been inserted into her body, sending sensation rushing through her.

She relaxed in the bed. And just as she was falling asleep, remembered the wild, erotic dream she’d had the second time she’d consumed some of Obi-Wan’s tea. It had been wicked—there had been two men, hadn’t there? Two men at first, anyway, but by the end of the dream, there had only been one. The right one. Below her, behind her, on top of her, whispering in her ear, kissing her neck, making beautiful love to her.

Only one.

The only one she ever needed. Xander.

With that thought in mind, she let her eyes drop closed, hoping she’d have a dream just as lovely. Especially if she could awaken to winning Xander’s heart in reality.

* * *

S
HE WAS IN A CASTLE.

She didn’t know whose castle, or where it was, or even if she belonged there. She only knew she felt trapped. Suffocated.

Pacing back and forth in a small room, she measured passing time by the tap of her feet against the stone floor and the matching beats of her heart. She realized her room was in a tall tower, because she could look out the window and see the forest far down below. And beyond it was a cliff and that rocky ocean over which she sometimes liked to fly.

Fly? She couldn’t fly. What a silly thought. Everybody always told her she couldn’t fly.

But somebody had once showed her she could, hadn’t they? And she wanted to, so very badly. She wanted to climb through that small window and throw herself out, not to fall to the ground below, but to soar even higher above it. To be free of these walls and the weight of something heavy, tugging at her shoulders.

She thought she could. Felt sure she could.

She began to climb.

A knock sounded at the door. “It’s time,” a man called. He knocked again, then again, insistently, each rap of knuckle on wood a jab at her soul.

“Time for what?”

“Don’t be silly, time for the ceremony.”

Ceremony? She blinked, shook her head, trying to remember.

“Come on, you can’t be late!”

The door opened and a man appeared, beckoning her out. He was older, gray-haired, and wore the plush, purple-velvet robes and crown of a king.

“Your Majesty,” she said, awed and a little overwhelmed.

He looked her over from head to toe. “It’s not perfect, but it’s all right.”

She looked down and realized she was wearing the most beautiful, exquisite bridal gown she had ever seen. Mimi looked like a fairy princess, an angel, a Victoria’s Secret model only not mostly naked. How could this man say it wasn’t perfect?

But, in one way, she realized, he was right. The dress was so very heavy—adorned with beads and jewels. It’s what pulled on her shoulders, making each step a chore, tugging her down, keeping her earthbound.

“Why am I dressed like this?”

“Just be quiet and do what I say. I know best. It’ll be fine,” he said. “Now hurry and put on your shoes, I’ll be outside.”

He left and she was alone.

She looked at the shoes, lifted her hand to reach for them, but then let it fall.

“I don’t want to wear the shoes. I don’t want to wear this dress. It weighs so much and doesn’t suit me.”

“Then don’t,” a voice whispered.

Startled, she looked around the room but saw no one. The stone walls were solid—no person could be hiding in the chamber.

“Over here,” he said.

She glanced toward the window, and there he was. Her black-draped, shadowy stranger. He was standing on the ledge, as if he’d just landed there, mysterious and unknowable. Again, that mist covered his face and she couldn’t see him clearly, but she recognized the strong arms, the broad chest, the powerful, massive body.

She walked over, her pulse racing, excitement making her shake.

He reached for her hand. She gave it to him, not hesitating, and allowed him to pull her up to join him on the ledge. They were so high, so very high, and the ledge was so small. But she felt no fear.

“Are we going to fly again?”

He shook his head and disappointment washed over her.

“You don’t have to fly,” he said. He ran a black-gloved finger down her cheek and the touch soothed and thrilled her, all at the same time. “You can walk out of here anytime you want.”

She looked down and saw that he was right. The ground was no longer far below, it was directly beneath her window. All she had to do as step down and walk away.

She glanced toward the door, knowing the king was waiting on the other side of it. Then she focused on the stranger, who had moved closer, so that his beautiful mouth could brush against her temple. “I’ll be waiting,” he said. “Come find me once you get out.”

He hopped down onto the soft carpet of pale green grass below. Lifting his hand, he offered her a flower. A magnolia. The most lovely, perfect one she had ever seen. It was huge, creamy white, and the sweet fragrance filled her every breath with heady delight.

“For you,” he said.

Just before he left, the mist cleared. She saw his face clearly for the first time.

She knew that face. She knew the twinkling brown eyes. She knew the strong jaw, the full mouth, the high brow.

She knew him. And she loved him.

Mimi opened her mouth to tell him that.

But he was already gone.

* * *

X
ANDER HADN’T DONE
a whole lot of exploring when he’d moved to Georgia. He’d had to start his job right away and his days off had been taken up with finding a place to live, then actually moving into it. And, of course, Mimi.

But with time on his hands, some anger to drive off, and no particular destination in mind, he’d found himself exploring the state. He’d driven across flat farmland and down long, windy roads and small towns with ramshackle houses.

Every mile he traveled took him farther away from Athens.

But every mile he traveled also brought him closer to Mimi.

Because as much as he tried to hold on to his righteous anger, eventually he had finally had to admit the truth—she hadn’t lied to him. Technically speaking, he hadn’t asked her if she’d broken up with Dimitri, he’d asked her if they were over. She’d said yes, and, in her heart, mind and soul, she had meant it.

Over the days that had followed, there might have been times when she should have realized what he’d assumed. But maybe she hadn’t. Maybe, as she’d said to him before, there had really been nothing to get “over” since she and Dimitri had never been a real couple to begin with.

He didn’t know. He only knew she deserved the chance to explain, and he had the right to ask.

It was dawn when he got back to the old plantation house, which had become home so quickly, he almost couldn’t remember what his apartment building in Chicago had looked like. Maybe that was because of her, too. Probably it was.

Inside, he didn’t go to his door, but, instead, to hers. He used the key she’d given him, let himself in and headed for her bedroom. The lights were off, all was quiet, and for the tiniest second, an evil, doubtful voice tried to warn him to be prepared to find just about anything in her room. Like her with her fiancé.