LITMIR.BIZ

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Melanie repeated.

      Ariel gulped and nodded. “He said I was trying to trap him, that the baby wasn’t his, and then he dumped me.”

      “Sounds to me like you didn’t lose much when you lost him,” Melanie said, hugging her sister again. “Paternity tests would prove he’s the father if you really want to go that route, but you certainly don’t need financial help raising a child, and you’re a whole lot better off without that kind of man in your life. Blow your nose and try to forget the jerk for a while. We have a wedding to attend, and you’re my maid of honor.”

      “God forgive me, Melanie, I don’t deserve any honor at all, least of all that one.” Ariel fell to her knees, taking two handfuls of Melanie’s gown and pressing them to her tear-streaked face for a moment before looking up at her sister. Her words tumbled out in a rush. “I can’t forget the baby’s father because… because it’s Mitch. I wanted to tell you, but you seemed so happy, happier than I’ve ever seen you.

      “I didn’t want to hurt you, I wasn’t going to say anything, but then…last night at the rehearsal dinner, I overheard him talking to one of his friends. He was saying…he was saying that he thought you were worth marrying because you’d be the one who could break him out of being a stunt man, and get him the acting roles he wanted. You were so close to Victor, he was sure you could make it happen. Before I got pregnant he was always after me to talk to Victor about getting him an acting role, but I never did because Mitch couldn’t act. He was awful. Oh, Mel, don’t you see? He used both of us the same way. You can’t marry him. He’s a no-good bastard!”

      As her sister spoke, a chill swept through Melanie. Three months ago she and Mitch had fallen in love. Three months ago Mitch had been sleeping with Ariel… until he found out she was pregnant. “No,” she whispered.

      “Oh, Mel. I’m so sorry.” Ariel rose to her feet and reached for her, but Melanie jerked away.

      “No,” she repeated. “That can’t be true. Mitch loves me….”

      Ariel shook her head, tears still streaming. “Mitch doesn’t love anyone but himself. I know you’ve heard the rumors. Believe them, Mel. He’s a womanizer, a user. He’s handsome and he’s daring, but he’s no good. Don’t marry him. Don’t let him hurt you the way he hurt me!”

      Melanie turned away from her sister and found herself staring at her reflection, at her beautiful Ines DiSanto wedding dress.

      She reached her hands to smooth the satin gown and lifted her chin, defiantly eyeing the woman in the mirror. She would not cry. She would never, ever cry. Let them stare and let them talk. Melanie Harris would hold on to her pride, if nothing else. “Let’s go,” she said to Ariel.

      “Mel, please, let me tell Janet the wedding’s off,” Ariel begged, holding back. “She can talk to the wedding party, she can tell Mitch…”

      “This wedding’s not off, baby sister,” Melanie said, reaching for Ariel’s hand. “We can’t disappoint all those guests, can we? Come on.”

      With a cry of protest, Ariel was tugged along as Melanie exited the bedroom. Holding her gown up in one hand, she strode determinedly past an open¬ mouthed Janet, wide-eyed bridesmaids and a shocked Stephanie and Victor, and down the wide granite steps of Blackstone toward the rose arbor in the formal garden overlooking the Pacific.

      The guests were standing as the quartet played the wedding march, waiting for her entrance. Their faces mirrored the pleasant anticipation of such moments— expressions that faltered when Melanie came into view, dragging a wildly sobbing Ariel behind her. The quartet stopped playing and lowered their instruments, as startled as the wedding guests, but Melanie only had eyes for the man waiting for her at the arbor.

      Mitch Carson.

      He watched their approach with amazing calm for a man who had to have sensed impending disaster. Ariel was wrong about him. He was a damn good actor.

      “Here’s the woman you should be marrying, Mitch,” Melanie said with icy calm, thrusting her weeping sister forward. “For the life of me, I can’t quite imagine you as a doting father, but I understand you have six more months to prepare. I wish the two of you a very interesting relationship.”

      She barely remembered leaving Victor’s estate and climbing into her car wearing the gown that had cost her nearly half a year’s salary as a location scout. She drove along the coastal highway, clutched in the depths of a nightmare she couldn’t escape. A nightmare that hadn’t passed in six long months. Six months of her sister’s hysterical phone messages imploring her forgiveness. Six months of Stephanie begging her to reconcile with Ariel. Begging her to get professional help. Six months of deteriorating job performance, sleepless nights and deepening depression.

      And then the latest message from her sister on her answering machine, just one week ago. Ariel’s voice had been shrill, barely intelligible. Mitch was dead, killed on location during the filming of the latest Kellerman thriller. A routine stunt had somehow gone wrong and there was an explosion, a terrible fire. The police would be investigating, the whole thing was so suspicious.

      Ariel was devastated, because she and Mitch had been trying to work things out. Apparently she had discovered something below the man’s shallow layer of womanizing self-indulgence. Something that had made Ariel believe he was ready to settle down with her and the baby.

      The shock of Mitch’s death had no doubt triggered the birth. Melanie learned of the frantic rush to the hospital from Stephanie, who had driven Ariel and stayed with her for the birth. Stephanie, who only two days ago had begged her to attend the special dinner Vic and Tanyia were hosting to celebrate Ariel’s newborn baby girl.

      “Please come, Mel,” Stephanie had pleaded. “It would mean so much to Ariel. She needs you right now. And the baby…your niece…is so beautiful. You have to see her.” Melanie hadn’t gone to the dinner, of course. No way in hell could she bring herself to do that…yet.

      Suddenly, Melanie dropped her head into her hands. She was so terribly tired. This wasn’t like a movie set, where the director could call out, “Cut! Let’s try that again.” This was real life, and there were no second takes. Her life was a mess. She would never be able to forgive Ariel for her betrayal. She no longer liked her job, because as long as she worked for Victor, she was constantly reminded of her wedding day. She didn’t want to be in this place, this office. She disliked Dr. Mattson for making her relive this nightmare, disliked the muted beige tones of his office, designed, no doubt, to comfort, and she even resented Stephanie for getting her into this situation in the first place.

      Melanie drew a shuddering breath, straightened in her chair and gazed about her with dismay. She glanced at her watch. Exactly ten minutes had passed since she’d taken a seat in Dr. Mattson’s office, and she hadn’t uttered a single word. He was sitting there patiently, waiting for her to spill her guts and cure herself, but she just couldn’t bring herself to tell the story to a stranger. No way she could ever confess to a three-month whirlwind romance with a renowned womanizer that her friends had all quietly warned her against. No way could she ever talk about her sister’s treachery, the same sister she’d worked so hard to protect and support after their parents had died.

      She’d fulfilled her promise to Stephanie by coming here today, but she was done with it. She would pull herself together and keep her secrets buried in the past. If the past haunted her for the rest of her life, running from it was a price she deserved to pay. Fools deserved to suffer.

      Dr. Mattson said nothing when Melanie rose and started for the door. She paused for a moment, as out of breath as if she’d just run a mile in soft beach sand.

      “I’m sorry,” she apologized before leaving his office, fighting for control. “I guess I’m not ready for this, after all.”

      Kent knew

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