Larkin waited anxiously for Rafe’s response. To her surprise, he didn’t say a word. Instead, she heard him pour a glass of wine. The instant she opened her eyes, he handed it to her.
“I believe lying by omission is called dating,” he explained gently. “No one is completely honest when they date—otherwise no one would ever get married. All of that changes once you’re foolish enough to say ‘I do.’”
“Marriage equals truth time?” Is that what he’d discovered when he’d married Leigh?
“Let’s just say that the mask comes off and you get to see the real person. Since we’re not getting married, that shouldn’t be a problem for us. Relax, Larkin. We’re all entitled to our privacy and a few odd secrets.”
His comments were like a soothing balm and she sank onto her seat at the patio table, allowing herself to relax and sip the wine he’d poured. The flavor exploded on her tongue, rich and sultry, with a tantalizing after bite to it. “This is delicious.”
“It is, isn’t it? Primo got a couple of cases in last week and spread them out among the family to sample. It’s from a Dante family vineyard in Tuscany that belongs to Primo’s brother and his family.”
“Huh.” She went along with the drift from turbulent waters into calmer seas, even though her intense awareness of him followed her there. “And does his brother’s family have that whole Inferno thing going on, too?”
“I don’t know. It’s never come up in discussion. Though I suspect most of the Dantes are fairly delusional when it comes to The Inferno.”
Rafe settled into the seat beside her and stretched out his long legs. He was close. So deliciously close. Her body seemed to hum in reaction, flooded with a disconcerting combination of pleasure and need.
“You still don’t believe it exists, despite…” She held out her hand, palm upward.
He hesitated, shrugged, then cut into his steak. “That’s what we’re going to spend the next month or so figuring out.”
Careful and evasive. It would appear she wasn’t the only one being a bit cagey. “Are you just saying that so I’ll stick with the job?” she asked, tackling her salad.
“Pretty much.”
She couldn’t help smiling. “Devious man.”
A companionable silence fell while they ate their dinner, though she could also feel a distracting buzz of sexual awareness. It seemed to hum between them, flavoring the food and scenting the air. She forced herself to focus on the meal and the easy wash of conversation, which helped mitigate the tension to a certain extent. But there was no denying its existence or the gleam of awareness that darkened Rafe’s eyes to an impenetrable forest-green. It added a unique dimension to every word and interaction, one that teetered on the edge of escalation…or it would have if they hadn’t both tiptoed around the various land mines.
After they’d finished eating they cleared away the dishes and returned to the patio with their wine. Larkin released a sigh, half contentment, half apprehension. “Okay. Story time,” she announced. “Explain to me again how this is supposed to work.”
“Winner of the coin toss asks the first question. Loser answers first.”
“Ouch. That could be dangerous.”
“Interesting, at the very least.” He tossed the coin. “Call it.”
“Heads.”
He showed her the coin, tails side up. He didn’t hesitate. “First question. Tell me about Kiko—and I mean the truth about Kiko. Since she’s going to be around my family for the next month or two, I think I deserve the truth.”
It was a reasonable question, if one she’d rather have avoided. “Fair enough. To be honest, I don’t know what she is. She’s definitely not pure wolf, despite her appearance. I’d guess she’s probably a hybrid wolf dog.” Rafe’s eyebrows shot upward and Larkin hastened to add, “But I don’t think she’s very high-content wolf. She has too many of the traits of a dog, as well as the personality.”
“Explain.”
Larkin winced at the gunshot sharpness of his response and chose her words with care. “Some people breed dogs with wolves, creating hybrids. It’s highly controversial. Gran was violently opposed to the practice. She considered it ‘an accident waiting to happen’ and unfair to both wolves and dogs, since people expect the hybrids to act like dogs.” At his nod of understanding, she continued. “But how can they? They’re an animal trapped between two worlds, living in a genetic jumble between domestication and wild creature. So both wolf and dog get a bad rep based on the actions of these hybrids whenever they respond to the ‘wild’ in their makeup.”
“Got it,” he said, though she could tell he wasn’t thrilled with her explanation. “What about in Kiko’s case? How likely is she to respond to her inner wolf?”
“She’s never harmed anyone. Ever.” Larkin leaned on the word. “Can she? Potentially. So can a dog, for that matter. But she’s more likely to run than confront, especially now that she’s so old.”
“How did you end up with her?”
Larkin switched her attention to the animal in question and smiled with genuine affection. Kiko lay on the patio, her aging muzzle resting on her forepaws, watching. Always watching. Alert even at this stage of her life. “We think Kiko must have been adopted by someone who either couldn’t take care of her or were living someplace where they couldn’t keep her because of her mixed blood. They dumped her in the woods when she was about a year old. Gran found Kiko caught in an illegal trap, half-starved.”
He shot a pitying look in the dog’s direction. “Poor thing. I’m amazed she let your grandmother anywhere near her.”
“Gran always had a way with animals.” She spared him a flashing smile. “And Kiko didn’t have much fight in her by the time Gran arrived on the scene. The trap had broken Kiko’s leg. She was lucky not to lose it.”
“Did your grandmother set the leg herself?”
Larkin shook her head. “That would have been well beyond her expertise. She took Kiko to a vet who happened to be a close personal friend. He set the leg and advised Gran on the best way to care for Kiko. It was either that or have her put down. Since neither Gran nor I could handle that particular alternative, we kept her.”
“And my family? How safe will they be with her?”
Larkin leaned forward and spoke with urgent intensity. “I promise, she won’t hurt you or your family. She’s very old now. The longest I’ve heard of these animals living is sixteen years. Most live fewer than that. Kiko’s twelve or thirteen and very gentle. Except for the occasional urge to howl, she’s quiet. Just be careful not to corner her so she feels trapped. Then she might turn destructive, if only in an attempt to escape what she perceives as a trap.” Pleased when he nodded his acceptance, she asked a question of her own. “What about you? No dogs or cats or exotic pets?”
He shook his head. “We had dogs growing up, but I’d rather not own a pet.”
She couldn’t even imagine her life without a four-legged companion. “Why not?”
“You’re talking about taking responsibility for a life for the next fifteen to twenty years. I’d rather not tie myself down to that sort of commitment.”
It didn’t take much of a leap to go from pets to a wife. If he’d thought owning a pet was an onerous commitment, how must it have felt to be married to Leigh? Larkin suspected she could sum it up in one word.
“I guess Kiko isn’t the only one who doesn’t like feeling trapped,” Larkin murmured. “Is that what marriage felt like?” Or was it just marriage to Leigh?
“It didn’t just feel that way. That’s what it was.” He raised his glass in a mocking salute. “One good thing came out of it. I realized I wasn’t meant for marriage. I’m too independent.”
That struck her as odd, considering his tight-knit family bonds. In the short time she’d known the Dantes, one aspect had become crystal clear. They were all in each other’s business. Not in a bad way. They just were deeply committed to the family as a whole. And that just might explain Rafe.
“What made you so independent?” she probed. “Is it an attempt to keep your family at a distance, or something more?”
He tilted his head to one side in open consideration. “I don’t feel like I need to hold my family at a distance. At least, I didn’t until this whole Inferno issue came up.” He frowned into his glass of wine. “I’m forced to admit they do have a tendency to meddle.”
“So if it’s not your family that’s made you so independent, where did it come from?”
He returned his glass to the table and shook his head. “That’s more than the allotted number of questions. Four or five by my reckoning. If we’re playing another round, you have to answer one for me first.”
“Okay, fine.” She slid down in her chair and sighed. “Just make it an easy one. I’m too tired to keep all my omissions straight.”
He chuckled. “Since we’re not even engaged, I wouldn’t want any deep, dark omissions to slip out by accident.”
“You have no idea,” she muttered. “Come on. Hit me. What’s your question?”
“Okay, an easy one… Let’s see. You said you broke your leg at one point. I guess that gives you something in common with Kiko.”
“More than you can guess.”
“So tell me. What happened?”
She tried not to flinch. She didn’t like remembering that time, even though everything worked out in the long run. “I was eight. I was in a school play and I fell off the stage.”
“I’m sorry.” And he was. She could hear it in the jagged quality of his words. “Unless someone saw you when you were as tired as you were last night, no one would ever know. You’re incredibly graceful.”
“Years of dance lessons, which helped me recover faster than I would have otherwise. But I was never able to dance again.” She couldn’t help the wistful admission. “Not like I could before.”
“Were you living with your grandmother at the time?”
“Yes.” Before he could ask any more questions, express any more compassion, she set her glass on the table with unmistakable finality. “It’s been a long night. I should turn in.”
“Don’t go.”
His voice whispered into the darkness, sending a shiver through her. It was filled with a tantalizing danger—not a physical danger, but an emotional one that threatened to change her in ways she couldn’t anticipate. Indelible ways from which she might never recover. She hesitated there, tempted beyond measure, despite the ghost of the woman who hovered between them. And then he took the decision from her, sweeping her out of her chair and into his arms.
“Rafe—”
“I won’t break my promise to Primo. But I need to hold you. To kiss you.”
A dozen short steps brought him to the French doors leading to her suite of rooms. Kiko followed them, settling down just outside, as though guarding this stolen time together. Even though an inky blackness enfolded the room, Rafe found the bed with unerring accuracy. He lowered her to the silken cover. A delicious weight followed, pressing her into the softness.
Despite Larkin’s night blindness, her other senses came alive. She heard the give-and-take of their breath, growing in urgency. Felt her heart kicking up in tempo, knowing it beat in unison with Rafe’s. Powerful hands swept over her and she caught the agitated rustle of clothing that punctuated the tide of desire rising within her. And all the while, the flare of energy centered in her palm spread heat deep into blood and bone, heart and soul.
“Are you sure this isn’t breaking your promise to Primo?” she whispered.
His hand slipped around behind her and found the hooks to her bra. One quick twist and the scrap of lace loosened. He released a husky laugh. “I’d say we were teetering on a thin line.”
She pulled her arms out of the sleeves of her blouse and the straps of her bra and wrapped them around his neck. “A very thin line. Maybe a kiss tonight before you leave?”
Even as the words escaped, his mouth found the joining of her neck and shoulder. Her muscles locked and her spine bowed in reaction. She’d never realized that particular juncture of her body was so sensitive. She released a frantic gasp, a small cry that held the distinct sound of a plea. How was it possible that such a simple touch could have such an overpowering effect? She couldn’t seem to wrap her mind around it.
He cupped her breasts and drew his thumbs across the sensitive tips. Tracing, then circling, over and over until she thought she’d go crazy. He hadn’t even kissed her yet, and already she was insane with a need she couldn’t seem to find the words to express.
“Rafe, please.”
She couldn’t admit what she wanted. It was all twisted into a confused, seething jumble of conflicting urges. The urge for more. Far more. The need to stop before she lost total control. Or was it already too late for that? The sheer, unadulterated want to wallow in the heat and desire of his touch. This was wrong—not that she dared admit as much to Rafe. But she knew. And the knowledge ate at her. She shifted restlessly beneath him and he stilled her with a soothing touch.
Cupping her face, he took her mouth, obliterating the wrong beneath a kiss of absolute rightness. It was sheer perfection. Where their earlier kisses were filled with heat and demand, this one was far different. It soothed. Gentled. Offered a balm to the senses. The desperation eased, grew more languid, and she found herself relaxing into the embrace.
“You know I want to take this further,” he murmured against her lips.
“You also know we can’t. I couldn’t look your grandparents in the face if—” She broke off with a shiver.
“Then we won’t.” She could hear the smile in his voice and feel it in the kisses he feathered across her mouth. “But that doesn’t mean we can’t come close.”
She squeezed her eyes closed. “That’s torture. You realize that, don’t you?”
“Oh, yeah. But I can take it if you can.” A warm laugh teased the darkness. “I think.”
“We’re playing a dangerous game.”
“Do you really want me to stop?”
She considered for an entire five seconds. What had happened to her willpower? She’d never found it difficult to hold a man at arm’s length. Until now. But with Rafe… For some reason he affected her in ways she’d never expected or experienced before. Everything about him attracted her. His looks. His intelligence. His sense of humor. His strength. His compassion. Even his family ties—especially his family ties. They all appealed. And then there was her physical response to him. She’d come here wanting something specific from Rafe. What she’d gotten in its stead had been totally unexpected.
She slid her arms downward, surprised to discover that at some point his shirt had disappeared. “What if this isn’t real? What if The Inferno is causing us to feel this way?”
She sensed his surprise at the question. “Is that what you think? That your response is caused by a myth?”
Larkin attempted to control her hands, but they had a mind of their own, sweeping over the sculpted muscles of his chest. They were so hard and distinctly masculine, so deliciously different from her own body. “I…I’ve never felt like this before. I’m just trying to understand—”
“You mean rationalize what’s happening.” His laugh contained a wry edge. “Trust me, I understand completely. I’m not interested in another emotional entanglement. Not after Leigh.”
She stilled, the reminder an icy one. “Emotional?”
He leaned in until his forehead rested against hers. “Hell, Larkin. Do you think I want this to be anything more than physical? Pure chemistry?”
“I can pretty much guess the answer to that,” she said drily.
He rolled off her and onto his back, scooping her against his side. She rested her head on his shoulder and allowed her hand to drift across the flat expanse of his abdomen. He sucked in his breath, lacing her fingers with his in order to stop their restless movement. “Since the minute I met you, I’ve been telling myself it’s a simple physical reaction. That’s all I want it to be. That’s all I can handle at this point in my life.”
“But?”
“But then you told me about your broken leg and how you’d never been able to dance again….”
“I can dance. Just not the way I did before.” She shrugged. “So?”
“It just about killed me to hear you say that,” he confessed roughly. “To see how it affected you.”
“Is that why we ended up here?”
“Pretty much.” He tugged at her short crop of curls. He blew out his breath in a sigh. “Go to sleep, Larkin.”
“What about…?”
“Not tonight. I’m not sure I could stop once we got started. Hell, who am I kidding? I know I won’t be able to stop.”
Nor would she. “Are you going to stay here with me?”
“For a while,” he compromised.
She hesitated, not sure she should ask the next question. But it slipped out anyway. “What happens from this point forward?”
“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I guess we take it one day at a time.”
“You think this feeling is going to dissipate over time, don’t you?”
“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I hope so.”
“And if it doesn’t?”
“We’ll deal with it then.”
She fell silent for a moment, then warned, “Whatever this is, Inferno or simple lust, it can’t go anywhere. You aren’t the only one who isn’t interested in a permanent relationship.”
“Then we don’t have anything to worry about, do we?”
She wished that were true. But once he found out who she was, that would all change.
Rafe woke in the early hours of the morning to the haunting sound of a howl. He glanced down at the woman sprawled across him and smiled. It usually took several nights to get comfortable sleeping with a woman. But with Larkin, all the various arms and legs had sorted themselves out with surprising ease. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept so soundly. If it hadn’t been for Kiko, he doubted he’d have woken until full daylight. Speaking of which…
Ever so gently, he eased Larkin to one side. She murmured in protest before settling into the warm hollow left by his body, her breath sighing in pleasure. Desire coursed through him at that tiny, ultrafeminine sound. Is that what she’d do when they made love? Would she use that irresistible siren’s song on him? He couldn’t wait to find out.
Deliberately he turned his back on the bed and crossed to the French doors. A full moon shone down on the fenced yard, frosting the landscape in silver and charcoal. Kiko sat in the middle of the lawn, her head tipped back in a classic pose, her muzzle raised toward the moon.
She exhibited an untamed beauty that drew him on some primitive level. Part of him wanted to run, free and natural, driven by instinct rather than the intellectual side of his nature, a side he clung to with unwavering ferocity. To be part of that other world, the world that called to the untamed part of the animal before him.
Knowing he couldn’t, that she couldn’t, filled him with sadness. She was wildness trapped in domestication…a trap he’d do whatever it took to avoid. Before she could voice her mournful song again, he gave a soft whistle. She hesitated another moment, gave a sorrowful whine, then padded in his direction.
“It makes me so sad.” Behind him, Larkin echoed his thoughts.
He turned to glance at her and froze. The moonlight bathed her nudity in silver. She was a study in ivory and charcoal. Her hair, shoulders and breasts gleamed with a pearl-like luminescence, while shadows threw a modest veil across her abdomen and the fertile delta between her thighs. Rational thought deserted him.
She inclined her head toward Kiko. “She feels the pull of the wild, but can’t respond the way she wants because she’s been trapped in a nebulous existence between wolf and dog, unable to call either world her own.” She fixed her pale eyes on him. “Is that how you feel? Trapped between two worlds?”
He still couldn’t think straight. He understood the question, but his focus remained fixed on her. On the demands of the physical, rather than the intellect. “Larkin…”
She made the mistake of approaching, the moonlight merciless in stripping away even the subtle barrier of the shadows that had protected her. “Your family is such an emotional one, but you’re not, are you?”
He couldn’t take his eyes off her. “Don’t be so sure.”
A slow smile lit her face and she tilted her head to one side. With her cap of curls and delicate features, she looked like a creature of myth and magic. “So you are one of the emotional Dantes?”
It took him three tries before he could speak. “If I touch you again, you’ll find out for yourself.” The words escaped, raw and guttural. “And I’ll have broken my promise to Primo.”
For a long moment time froze. Then with a tiny sigh, she stepped back, allowing the shadows to swallow her and returning to whatever fantasy world she’d escaped from. Everything that made him male urged pursuit. He knew it was the moonlight and Kiko’s howling that had ripped the mask of civilization from his more primitive instincts. He fought with every ounce of control he possessed.
As though sensing how close to the edge he hovered, the dog trotted past him to the open doorway. There she sat, an impressive bulwark to invasion.
“You win this time,” he told her. “But don’t count on it working in the future.”
With that, he turned and walked away from a craving beyond reason. And all the while he rubbed at the relentless itch centered in the palm of his hand.
She’d lost her mind. Larkin swept the sheet off the bed and wrapped herself up in its concealing cocoon. There was no other explanation. Why else would she have stripped off her few remaining clothes and walked outside like that, as naked as the day she’d been born? Never in her life had she been so blatant, so aggressive. That had been Leigh’s specialty, not hers.
Leigh.
Larkin sank onto the edge of the bed and covered her face with her hands. What a fool she was, believing for even a single second that she could embroil herself in the Dantes’ affairs and escape unscathed. Maybe if she’d been up front with Rafe from the beginning it would have all worked out. That had been the intention when she’d asked to be assigned to the Dantes reception.
Her brow wrinkled. How had it all gone so hideously wrong? He’d touched her, that’s how. He’d dropped that insane proposition on her and then before she could even draw breath or engage a single working brain cell, he’d kissed her. And she’d lost all connection with reason and common sense because of The Inferno.
The Inferno.
She stared at her palm in confusion. She wanted to believe that it was wishful thinking or the power of suggestion. But there was no denying the odd throb and itch of her palm. She couldn’t have imagined that into existence, could she?
A soft knock sounded on her door. It could be only one person. She debated ignoring it, pretending she was asleep. But she couldn’t. She crossed to the door and opened it, still wrapped in the sheet. He’d pulled on a pair of sweatpants and seemed relieved to see that she’d covered up, as well.
“It’s late,” she started, only to be cut off.
“I’m sorry, Larkin. Tonight was my fault.” He leaned against the doorjamb and offered a wry smile. “I thought I could control what happened.”
“Not so successful?”
His smile grew. “Not even a little. I can’t allow it to happen again.” He waited a beat. “At least, not until I have a ring on your finger.”
Her eyes widened. “Excuse me?”
“Let’s just say that once you’re wearing my engagement ring, I’ll consider my promise to Primo fulfilled.”
The air escaped her lungs in a rush, and she fought to breathe. “And then?” she asked faintly.
“And then we’ll finish what we started tonight.” He reached out and wound a ringlet around his finger. “One way or another we’ll work this out.” His mouth twisted. “Of course, getting whatever this is out of our systems will take a lot of work.”
“What if I don’t want to make love to you?”
He chuckled. The rich, husky sound had her swaying toward him. “Somehow I don’t think that’ll be a problem.”
He leaned in and snatched a kiss, leaving her longing for more. And then he released her and left her standing there, clutching the sheet to her chest.
He was wrong. So wrong. Making love would be far more than a problem. It would be a disaster. Taking their relationship that next step would forge a deeper connection. No matter how much he wanted to deny it, it would create a bond between them that could offer nothing but pain.
Because the minute she told him that Leigh was her sister—half sister—and he discovered the real reason she’d approached him, he wouldn’t want anything further to do with her.