Secrets of You by Mary Campisi Page A

anew and open up her heart to someone, and she’d thought Ash Revelin would be that someone. But he’d left her, which deep down made her believe she wasn’t deserving of anyone’s love. When he walked back into her life a few days ago, she’d forgotten the pain of loving and losing him, forgotten who she really was, where she’d come from, and for the briefest moment, she’d let her heart embrace him…let a spark burst in her soul…and that was dangerous, because despite what she told him, despite the lies she told herself, she could love Ash again. Worse, maybe she’d never stopped loving him…
    “Great painting, huh?”
    Arianna turned toward the voice, not that she needed to identify the owner. Only one person spoke in a way that made her lightheaded. “Hello, Ash.” She pointed to the painting and said, “Quinn’s mother did this.”
    “His mother? I thought she was dead.”
    “It’s a long story.” With gaps and enough questions to make her certain there was more to the “abducted mother returns” story Quinn had pushed on them. She never questioned because she understood about leaving the past buried and even creating a new past.
    “Ian never mentioned anything about Quinn’s mother painting this. In fact”—he rubbed his jaw and frowned—“he didn’t seem too happy to talk about these paintings at all. They’re really mesmerizing with the silhouettes dropped against the sun. Kind of tragic in a way.”
    She was still stuck on the implication that he’d met Ian before. “You know Ian?”
    That grin spread. “I met him about an hour ago. Nice guy. Doesn’t much like Annie’s husband, but then guys don’t usually like men who steal the women they love from them.”
    “What are you talking about? And why were you here so early?” She checked her watch. “I said ten o’clock, not nine.”
    He shrugged. “I haven’t slept past seven in over two years.”
    She ignored the comment; somewhere buried just beneath the surface of those words was the reason for the early rising and it had to do with her. With them. There had been weekends when they’d spent half the day in bed. She was not even going to tiptoe near that memory, so she focused on the other, equally disturbing half of his statement. “What do you mean, Ian’s in love with Annie? Where did you conjure up that story?”
    He faced her and his expression grew serious, his dark eyes almost black. “No conjuring necessary. Didn’t you notice the way Annie tossed Ian’s name out like a rotten egg? And Michael took every opportunity to voice his opinion on Ian and his ‘artists are freaks and he’s a king freak,’ which is really interesting considering Quinn and Eve are artists and so are you. So, what’s with the guy?”
    “I don’t know.” And she didn’t. But Ian in love with Annie? Surely Quinn would have said something…surely Quinn would have noticed. “I think you’re way off base with Ian. He’s extremely focused and intense.”
    “Code for obsessed and in love.”
    Was he speaking from experience? About her? She smothered the thought and offered a possibility for Annie’s distaste of Ian Debenidos. “Annie might still be resentful because for a time she thought the paintings Ian sold for her were purchased by real admirers.”
    “Ah. Let me guess. Big brother’s checkbook?”
    “Pretty much.”
    “I can’t fault the guy for trying to help his sister. Let’s go inside before you tell me he’s donating all of his money to charity and volunteering in soup kitchens.” His voice tickled her neck. “Ian gave me a few suggestions, but I want your opinion.”
    She nodded. “Ash?” She clutched the door handle and eyed him from the reflection in the door window. “The question you asked me last night about another chance.” She paused, pushed the words out before she couldn’t say them. “Yes. That’s my answer.”
    He blew out a breath that spoke of relief and hope. “Thank you.”
    “My