The men around him seemed to freeze, the flames seemed to stop in their heavenward reaches, the smoke seemed to become a drawn curtain between Andi and him. Fear stampeded through him, and he had but one panic-stricken thought. Andi was going to die in those flames. He shot through the men and into the building, tearing off his shirt as he ran.
The only sounds inside were those of crackling, popping flames overhead and along the walls. The wide open space of the center—waiting to be filled with water before the park’s opening—was without flames, but the smoke was quickly reaching suffocating proportions. The automated figures built on the sides of the room were melting masses of machinery slowly shrinking in flames that pranced regally around them. Were they what Andi had run in here for?
“Andi!” The word choked him, and he coughed the smoke out of his lungs as he went deeper into the building, pressing his shirt against his nose to filter the polluted air.
A muffled sound drew his eyes toward the back of the building where the flames were already the victors. Against the blinding red glow, he saw Andi’s silhouette, staggering as she struggled to drag something behind her.
“Let it go!” he blared as he careened toward her.
She didn’t have to answer, for when he reached her, he saw that she was dragging Madeline, limp and unconscious, behind her.
Squatting down, Justin pulled the woman’s limp weight onto his shoulders and caught Andi, wavering with dizziness before she doubled over in a fit of coughing. “Hold this against your face,” he ordered, thrusting his shirt into her hands. “Now stay low and get out of here!”
Keeping an eye on the unsteady ceiling, he ran behind her. Boards smashed and walls crumbled behind them as they ran through the hell-like chamber, the furnace heat of the blaze pursuing them, until finally they ran into the spraying water and were grabbed by the firemen who had come in after them.
Madeline was loaded into an ambulance that had pulled up while they were inside, and she began to come to as they began to administer oxygen. There were no apparent burns on her body. It was the smoke that had almost killed her.
Andi and Justin, strangled and coughing at the sudden rush of oxygen in polluted lungs, were immediately treated by the paramedics.
Andi’s face was dark with black smoke and water, and her wet hair fell from its pins to tumble wildly around her shoulders. When they could both breathe without the oxygen masks, Justin took her by the arms, shaking her gently as his mist-filled eyes raked over her with furious relief. “You stupid thing,” he raged softly through his teeth, emotion racking his voice. “How could you do that?”
“I’m sorry, Justin,” she said, her voice raw and hoarse. “I saw her moving near the back of the building, just before she collapsed, and there wasn’t any time to waste.”
“You both could have been killed,” he moaned, crushing her against him, his arms trembling with the aftermath of fear.
She leaned into his bare wet chest, closing her arms around his waist, only beginning to feel the terror seep into her now that she knew they were safe. “So could you.”
He rocked back and forth, holding her as if his arms could keep her from being swallowed into the flames again. “What if I had lost you? What if—?”
“I’m okay,” she whispered, tears burning down her cheeks. His heart was slamming against her, and she looked up at him to see painful tears making paths through the soot on his face.
“Don’t ever do that again,” he whispered, still rocking her back and forth. His swallow came with great effort when she moved her hands up to frame his face. Tears still welled in the blue depths of his eyes, and his breathing was deep and labored. Without thinking, she pressed a kiss to his dry lips, and his arms closed tighter around her. “Andi, I love you,” he murmured against her ear.
Although one of the most important buildings in her park was crashing and consuming into glowing embers, with flames threatening to conquer the beloved buildings nearby, and the men were yelling and the machinery screaming and sirens blaring, Andi felt strangely at peace.
Justin’s voice was all she heard.
Chapter Twenty
Andi washed the lather from her hair, closing her eyes and letting warm jets of water beat down on her face. Had the evening been a bad nightmare or a poignant dream? Had Hands Across the Sea really burned down while she stood helplessly watching? Had Justin really said he loved her?
No dream, she thought with a confusing twang of pain throbbing in her heart. Those things had happened. But she mustn’t take them out of perspective. Justin had just seen her run into a den of flames, and as her friend, he had been frightened. Of course he loved her. Friends always did. And they had restated that friendship in her office tonight. His fear and relief had made him say things that he might regret later, unless she took the words the way they were meant.
But the fact that he’d clung to her, not Madeline, had been confusing. He had been worried about his assistant, had even insisted on rushing to the hospital behind the ambulance to make sure she was all right. But it had been Andi’s hand he held as they stood over Madeline’s bed, and he’d made no attempt to hide his affection for Andi from Madeline.
“You saved my life,” Madeline had told her in a raspy voice. “I can’t believe you saw me. I was so stupid. I was in one of the other buildings critiquing the robot designs so the engineers could have my report first thing tomorrow, when I smelled smoke. When I realized it was in Hands Across the Sea, I set off the alarm and was trying to save the robots. But I couldn’t get them out, and the smoke was so thick. If you hadn’t come, I’d be dead, Andi. You’re a real hero.”
She reached out to take Andi’s hand, and Andi squeezed hers. “I couldn’t have done it without Justin.”
“Yeah, I know. But you’re the one who rushed in. I don’t know how to repay you. Is eternal friendship enough, you think?”
Andi smiled. “Sure, it is.”
Later, as she stepped out of the shower, she asked herself how she could have ever disliked a woman like that. And she was confused now … confused about what Madeline meant to Justin … whether he had ever been involved with her or not … whether she was Andi’s biggest threat or greatest ally. She just didn’t know anymore.
After she was dressed, Andi towel-dried her hair and ran a comb through it, postponing the moment of facing Justin now that things were calm. He was out there in her living room, waiting for her. He seemed to want to comfort her, to help her through her second catastrophe in a matter of days. She hated being so needy, yet she couldn’t deny that she loved having Justin fill those needs.
Going into her living room, she saw that Justin was on her couch. “Come here,” he said. She went and sat down next to him, and he gazed at her, tracing a finger down her hairline and over her ear, pushing back the long, damp strands. “Feel better?”
“I guess,” she whispered. “Until tomorrow, when I have to face the damage in broad daylight, and answer all the questions, and make plans to start all over …” Tears sprang to her eyes, and she closed them and touched her forehead with trembling fingertips. “Oh, Justin, I don’t want to be your enemy tomorrow. I want to be your friend, even when there’s no catastrophe hanging over us.”
“We aren’t really enemies,” Justin said quietly. “Rivals, maybe, but not enemies.”
Closing her eyes, Andi lay her head on the back of the sofa. “What on earth would we be rivaling for?”
Justin’s eyes seemed to grow distant as he thought that over. Finally, he looked at her with a look of deep sadness in his eyes. “Our hearts,” he said quietly.
Andi opened her eyes and pulled herself partially up, a soft frown transforming her face. “Justin, I’ve never tried to take your heart from you.”
“You never had to try.”
The words stopped her heart and paralyzed her limbs. His eyes were eloquent with blatant emotion and painful honesty, and she had to force herself to remember she wasn’t the only woman in his life
.
“It’s ironic,” he added, in that soft, hypnotic voice. “You’re the one human being in my life that I can truly say has given me the greatest joy and the deepest sadness. And so many of the lessons God has taught me in my life have been somehow taught through my relationship with you.”
Her heart threatened to explode. “I’m sorry for the sadness, Justin.”
“Yeah, me, too,” he whispered.
“My mother told me I needed to ask for your forgiveness,” she said, desperately trying to hold back the tears, “and I think she’s right. I never apologized for believing you had taken money to break up with me. But you can’t know how much I’ve regretted it. I’m so sorry.”
He nodded. “What hurt the most is that you thought I could be capable of that.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly. I was angry and hurt that you’d left, and my father offered a quick explanation that made sense. I didn’t think it through.”
“I know,” he said. “And you trusted your father. That’s how it’s supposed to be.”
“Fathers aren’t supposed to lie.”
“No, they aren’t.”
“But he changed, Justin. And if he had been able to, he would have asked for your forgiveness. Just like I’m doing.”
Justin’s smile was fragile with emotion. “You’ve got it, Andi. And he’s got it, too.”
A tear spilled over her lashes, and she reached up to wipe it away.
Justin took her hand away from her face, laced his fingers through hers, and gazed down into her wet eyes that held such deep longing.
Slowly, he lowered his face to hers. As their lips touched, the past became present, with eight long, haunting years of collected dreams to heighten it. The power they had used against each other melded into the power of that one kiss, as they each left indelible prints on the other’s heart.
She broke the kiss and dropped her forehead against his neck.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
“This,” she whispered. “It’s the way we come together. I don’t want you to care for me only when I’ve been through an ordeal.”
“You know it’s more than that,” Justin said, pushing a frustrated hand through his hair. “It’s just that I fight it, and it’s just when you need me that I can’t seem to fight anymore. It’s only then that it doesn’t scare me so much.”
Still, her doubts lingered. Hot tears welled in her eyes, and she whispered in a broken voice, “I have to ask you about Madeline.”
His head came up, those expressive eyes harboring no sign of deceit. “What do you mean?”
“Who is she to you, Justin?” She lowered her face to spare herself the pain of seeing the truth.
But when his hands framed her face and drew it back to his, she saw only a gentle, bewildered expression. “She’s one of my closest friends,” he whispered. “Has been for years. But that’s all.”
“But … I overheard a conversation. I shouldn’t have. I should have just turned the other way, but it happened. I heard her telling you that she didn’t want you ruining what you had built together for the sake of some overblown sense of obligation to me.”
Justin’s fingers closed her mouth, his eyes becoming luminous with conviction. “Andi, she was talking about our work. I had told her that I wanted to put off the trip to New York, that I wasn’t ready to leave you yet. Plus I’d had a change of heart about sticking around and working with you on the robotics. I was thinking of sending someone else in my place. Madeline was afraid I was risking the ABC deal if I didn’t go, and she said I had a false sense of obligation. She wasn’t talking about our relationship, Andi. She was talking about business. And the truth is, I was using business as an excuse not to leave you.”
“Then you and Madeline are not an item?”
He laughed aloud. “No! We never have been. She’s like a sister in a lot of ways. I could never think of Madeline that way.”
A soft “oh” whispered through her lips, and Justin studied the relief in her face as understanding crept into his eyes.
“That was why you denied what had been happening between us,” he said in an amazed voice, as if the pieces were finally coming together. “It was wounded pride, and I thought it was business.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, “I’m so sorry.”
“But do you believe me?” he whispered.
“I believe you.” The words came on a breath of gratitude.
They stared at each other for a long moment, and finally Justin said, “You have to know something, Andi. I love you. I think I always have.”
Uninhibited joy burst inside her. “I have too, Justin,” she whispered. “I’ve never stopped.”
He reached up to touch a fallen strand of hair, twirled it around a finger, used it to pull her face closer to his. His lips touched hers again, then retreated. His eyes were full of turmoil, full of surrender, and she yearned to trust what she read there.
His voice quivered when he asked, “Remember when we were in college, and we’d get dangerously close to losing control?”
She swallowed. “Yes.”
“What did we do then?”
“We tried stupid distractions,” she whispered, “like ice cream sundaes and jogs around the track.”
“I don’t want ice cream, and I’m too tired to jog. So what are we gonna do now?”
“I don’t know,” she whispered.
He pressed his forehead against hers and whispered, “I have an idea.”
“What?”
“We could get married. Tonight. Surely there’s a twenty-four-hour preacher around somewhere.”
She smiled and reached up to touch the stubble on his jaw. “Are you proposing to me?”
His grin matched hers. “Depends. Would you accept if I did?”
Her smile faded slightly. “If I thought you were serious, I might consider considering it.”
His eyes began to mist with emotion. “I am serious, Andi. In New York, I was more miserable than I’ve ever been, even though I was signing a deal for something I’ve worked years for. The thought that it wasn’t a possibility that you would be a permanent part of my life … It was a little much to take …”
“Me, too,” she whispered. “I was sick that it hadn’t worked. That I had just been an obligation to you.”
“Then let’s stop playing games and do this thing right,” he whispered. “Marry me, Andi.”
She couldn’t fight the tears streaming down her face. “There’s nothing in the world I want more,” she whispered.
“Tonight?” he asked.
“No. Not tonight. I want to do it right.”
He looked a little helpless. “Then I guess it’s time we went for a jog.”
She smiled. “I’ll get my running shoes.”
Chapter Twenty-One
Cold arms of reality embraced Andi and Justin the next morning as they stood amid the ruins of Hands Across the Sea. An electrical flaw, the fireman’s report had said when they’d finished their investigation this morning. The press was already having a field day with it, screaming that it was only a matter of time before something else started a fire. And what if there had been children inside, Givens was quoted as asking. To “save” the state from the horrors that could occur as a result of opening this park, he was taking action to make certain it remained closed.
“It’ll be all right,” Justin said from the destroyed entrance of the building. Andi stood in the center of the black, roofless structure, staring at the charred remains of her dream. Stepping over the sooty rubble, he slid his arms around her from the back. “It’s just a setback.”
Justin’s touch reminded her that she was transparent, so she straightened her posture and forced a smile. “I know,” she said, crossing her arms over his. “It’ll be better when we rebuild it. We still have the plans, and the choreography for the automated figures is still composed on disk, so that’s not entirely lost. It’ll be fine.” Her voice cracked with the last words, and
she stepped out of his embrace. He watched her walk to one of the concrete sides and reach up to touch a melted mass of rubber that had been a child dressed in Dutch native dress. “I mean, I’ve overcome obstacles before,” she said in a voice that lacked conviction. “This isn’t going to get me down.”
“Of course it won’t,” Justin said softly, wishing from his heart that he could make her discard that brave, positive facade and share her feelings with him. Stepping behind her again, he pulled her into his arms. For a moment she leaned her head against his broad shoulder in silent acceptance of his helping to carry the burden, but then, as if she thought better of it, she stiffened and stepped away again.
“Don’t shut me out,” Justin said.
Turning around, Andi tried to blink back her tears. “I’m not,” she said, knowing her guard was slipping further with each passing moment and each gentle touch. “It’s just that it’s easier when no one understands how I feel. When everyone thinks I’m undaunted and ready to bounce back, I even believe it myself then.”
“But I’m not everyone,” he said.
“No, you’re not,” she agreed, swallowing back the tears blocking her throat. “And your understanding means … everything. It’s just that I don’t have time to cry right now. There’s too much to do, and I have to think.” Her mouth trembled as she spoke, and the unshed tears blurred her eyes.
Justin set his hand on her shoulder, his face only inches from hers. Cupping her chin with his fingers, he ran a thumb over her bottom lip. “It’s the press, isn’t it? And that Givens maniac. You aren’t afraid he’ll carry out his threats to keep the park closed, are you?”
Andi heaved a deep sigh. “Justin, they aren’t threats. He means it. He’s been trying to close us down since the first groundbreaking.”
“Why?” Justin asked, thinking it was despair talking rather than reason.