Private Scandals

and the color drains out of your face? And how much worse it is, how much harder it is, because after all this time you don’t trust me?”
    “It isn’t a matter of trust.” The violence in his eyes had her heart jumping into her throat. In all the time they’d been together, she’d never seen him so close to the edge. “It’s not, Finn. It’s pride. I didn’t want to admit that I couldn’t handle it alone.”
    He was silent for a long time, the only sound the spit of flames eating steadily at dry logs. “Damn your pride, Deanna,” he said quietly. “I’m tired of beating my head against it.”
    Panic welled up inside her like a geyser. His words were a closing statement, a segment ender. With an involuntary cry of alarm, she grabbed his arm before he could stalk out. “Finn, please.”
    “I’m going for a walk.” He stepped back, holding palms up, afraid he might cause them both irreparable damage if he touched her. “There are ways of working off this kind of mad. The most constructive one is to walk it off.”
    “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I love you.”
    “That’s handy, because I love you, too.” And at the moment, his love felt as though it were killing him. “It just doesn’t seem to be enough.”
    “I don’t care if you’re mad.” She reached out again and clung. “You should be mad. You should shout and rage.”
    Gently, while he could still manage it, he loosened her grip. “You’re the shouter, Deanna. It’s in the genes, I’d say. And I come from a long line of negotiators. It just so happens I’m out of compromises.”
    “I’m not asking you to compromise. I only want you to listen to what else I have to say.”
    “Fine.” But he moved away from her, to the window seat in the shadows. “Talk’s your forte, after all. Go ahead, Deanna, be reasonable, objective, sympathetic. I’ll be the audience.”
    Rather than rise to the bait, she sat again. “I had no idea you were this angry with me. It’s not just about me not telling you about this last note, is it?”
    “What do you think?”
    She’d interviewed dozens of hostile guests over the years.She doubted if any would be tougher than Finn Riley with his Irish up. “I’ve taken you for granted, and I’ve been unfair. And you’ve let me.”
    “That’s good,” he said dryly. “Start out with a self-deprecating statement, then circle around. It’s no wonder you’re on top.”
    “Don’t.” She threw her head back, the firelight glinting in her eyes. “Let me finish. At least let me finish before you tell me it’s over.”
    There was silence again. Though she couldn’t see his face when he spoke, she heard the weariness in his voice. “Do you think I could?”
    “I don’t know.” A tear spilled over, glimmering in the shifting light. “I haven’t let myself think about it until recently.”
    “Christ, don’t cry.”
    She heard him shift, but he didn’t move toward her.
    “I won’t.” She brushed the tear away, swallowed the others that threatened. She knew she could weaken him with tears. And that she would despise herself for it. “I’ve always thought that I could make everything come out in order, if I just worked at it diligently enough. If I planned it all carefully enough. So I wrote lists, adhered to timetables. I’ve cheated us both by treating our relationship as if it were a task—a wonderful task—but a task to be handled.” She was talking too fast, but couldn’t stop, the words tumbling over each other in their hurry to be said. “And I suppose I was feeling pretty smug about the job I was doing. We fit so well together, and I loved being your lover. And then today, I watched you outside, and I realized for the first time how badly I’ve botched it all.” God, she wished she could see his face, his eyes. “You know how I hate to make mistakes.”
    “Yes, I do.” He had to take a moment. It wasn’t only her pride on the line. “It sounds as though you’re the one doing the ending, Deanna.”
    “No.” She sprang up. “No, I’m trying to ask you to marry me.”
    A log collapsed in the grate, shooting sparks and hissing fire. When it settled again, the only sound she heard was her own unsteady breathing. He rose, crossed from shadow into light. His eyes were as guarded and enigmatic as an ace gambler calling a bluff. “Are you afraid I’ll walk if you don’t do this?”
    “I imagine the hole there would be in my life if you did, and I’m terrified. And