“What?” Larkin stared at Rafe in disbelief. “They left you there at the lake? Alone? Are you serious?”
Rafe smiled, but she noticed it didn’t quite reach his eyes. They’d darkened to a deep, impenetrable green. “Dead serious.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?” she asked urgently. “How old were you?”
She could tell he didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe she should have let him off the hook. But she couldn’t. Something warned her that whatever had happened was a vital element in forming his present-day persona.
“I was ten and our vacation time was up, so we were getting ready to leave. My cousins and brothers and I were all running around doing our level best to pack in a final few minutes of fun while my sister, Gia, chased after us doing her level best to round us up. Since she was the youngest and only five, you can imagine how well that worked.”
“And then?” Larkin prompted.
He lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, though she suspected his attitude toward that long-ago event was anything but casual. “Draco climbed a tree in order to tease Gia. I knew it would take a while for my parents to get him down, so I took off to check on this dam I’d built along the river that fed the lake. Apparently while I was gone Draco fell out of the tree and broke his leg.”
She rubbed at her own leg and winced in sympathy. “Ouch. How bad a break was it?”
“Bad. All hell broke loose. Mamma and Babbo—my mother and father—took Draco to the hospital. Gia was hysterical, so Nonna and Primo took her with them. My aunt and uncle grabbed Luc and their four boys.”
He was breaking her heart. “No one wondered where you were? They just…forgot about you?”
“There were a lot of kids running around.” He spoke as though from a memorized script. “They each thought someone else had taken me. Draco was in pretty bad shape, so my parents stayed overnight with him at the hospital, which is why they didn’t realize I’d been overlooked.”
She could sympathize with his parents’ decision, having gone through a similar ordeal. Only, in her case her mother hadn’t stayed with her. Gran had been the one to stick by her side day and night. “When did they figure out you were missing?”
“Late the next day. They didn’t get back to the city until then. When they went to round us all up, they discovered I was nowhere to be found.”
“How hideous.” Larkin gnawed at her lip. “Poor Elia. She must have been frantic.”
Rafe glared in exasperation. “Poor Elia? What about poor Rafe?”
“You’re right.” So right. “Poor Rafe. I’m so sorry.”
He reminded her of a snarling lion, pacing off his annoyance, and she couldn’t resist the urge to soothe him. She approached as cautiously as she would a wild animal. At first she thought he’d back away. But he didn’t. Nor did he encourage her, not that that stopped her.
Sliding her hands along the impressive breadth of his chest, Larkin gripped his shoulders and rose on tiptoe. His mouth hovered just within reach and she didn’t hesitate. She gave him a slow, champagne-sweetened kiss. Their lips mated, fitting together as perfectly as their bodies. It had been this way from the start and she couldn’t help but wonder—if circumstances had been different, would their relationship have developed into a real one?
It was a lovely dream. But that’s all it was. The realization hurt more than she would have believed possible. He started to deepen the kiss, to take it to the next step. If the ring and champagne and engagement had been real, nothing would have stopped her from following him down such a tempting path. But it wasn’t real and she forced herself to pull back.
She wasn’t ready to go there. Not until she came to terms with the temporary nature of their relationship. Rafe might not realize it yet, but the “if” of their lovemaking would be her decision alone. The “when” on her terms.
He released a sigh. “Let me guess. More questions?”
She offered a sympathetic smile. “Afraid so.”
“Get it over with.”
“What in the world did you do when you returned and discovered everyone gone?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“I sat and waited for a couple of hours. After a while I got hungry, but the summerhouse was all locked up. So I decided maybe I was being punished for running off instead of staying where I’d been told and my punishment was to find my own way home.”
Larkin’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God. You didn’t—”
“Hitchhike? Sure did.”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” She broke off and shook her head. “Of course you do. Now.”
“It all seemed very simple and logical to me. I just needed to get from the lake to San Francisco. The hardest part was walking to the freeway. And finding food.”
Larkin couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the story. “How? Where?”
“I came across a campsite. No one was there.” He shrugged. “Probably out hiking, so I helped myself to some of their food and water.”
She stared in disbelief. “You made it home, didn’t you?”
“It took three days, but yes. I made it home on my own. Walked some. Snuck onto a bus at one point. The toughest part was coming up with acceptable excuses for why I was out on my own—excuses that wouldn’t have the people who helped me calling the authorities.”
“Your parents must have been frantic.”
He crossed to the table and poured himself a second glass of champagne, topping hers off in the process. “To put it mildly.”
“And ever since then?”
He studied her over the rim of the crystal flute. “Ever since then…what?”
She narrowed her eyes in contemplation. “Ever since then, you’ve been fiercely independent, determined not to depend on anyone other than yourself.”
He shrugged. “It didn’t change anything. I’ve always been the independent sort.”
“Seriously, Rafe. You must have been terrified when you discovered you’d been left behind.”
“Maybe a little.”
“And hurt. Terribly hurt that the family you loved and trusted just up and deserted you.”
“I got over it.” Ice slipped into his voice. “Besides, they didn’t desert me.”
“But you thought they did,” she persisted. “It explains a lot, you know.”
“I don’t like being psychoanalyzed.”
“Neither do I. But at least now I understand why you hold people at an emotional distance and why you’re so determined to control your world.” It must have been sheer hell being married to someone like Leigh, who was a master at manipulating emotions and equally determined to be the one in control. “Did you ever tell your wife about the incident?”
“Leigh wasn’t interested in the past. She pretty much lived in the now and planned for the future. Even if I had mentioned it to her, I doubt it would have made any difference.”
True enough. “It makes a difference to me,” Larkin murmured.
“Why?”
Because it clarified one simple fact. Their relationship would never work. His independent nature would rebel against any sort of long-term connection. Deepening that problem had been his experience at the lake all those years ago, when he’d learned to trust only himself during that three-day trek home. He wouldn’t dare put his faith in someone he couldn’t trust. And once he knew the truth about her, he’d never trust her. She strongly suspected that once that trust was lost, it could never be regained.
She also found it interesting that he was running away from what she’d spent her entire life wishing she could have. Family. An ingrained knowledge that she belonged. Hearth and home. Though her grandmother had been a loving, generous woman, she hadn’t been the most sociable person in the world. She lived on a small farm, happy with a simple, natural existence far from the nearest town. While love and obligation had kept Larkin by her grandmother’s side until her grandmother’s death and news of Leigh’s death had reached her, through the years she’d begun to long for more. The sort of “more” that Rafe had rejected. During the last year of Gran’s life, Larkin had created a game plan for attaining that something more. First on her agenda was to track down her father. Then she intended to obtain a job at a rescue organization and pursue her real passion—saving animals like Kiko.
The only remaining question was… How did she get herself out of her current predicament? Of course, she knew how. All she had to do was tell him that she was Leigh’s sister—half sister—and their temporary engagement would come to a permanent end. Then he’d either agree to what she required in lieu of payment, or he wouldn’t. End of story.
What she really needed to know was how much longer he intended to drag out their engagement, and what sort of exit strategy he had planned. Knowing Rafe, there was definitely a plan.
“I have one last question,” she began.
“Unfortunately for you, I’m done answering them. There’s only one thing I want right now.” He set the flute on the table with enough force to make the crystal sing. He turned and regarded her with a burning gaze. “And that’s you.”
How had she thought she could control this man? It would seem she was as foolish as Leigh. “I don’t think—”
“I’m not asking you to think.” Rafe approached, kicking a chair from his path. “I don’t even care whether you choose to wear my ring or not. There’s only one thing that matters. One thing that either of us wants. And it’s what we’ve wanted from the moment we first met.”
Without another word, he swept Larkin into his arms. The stars wheeled overhead as her world turned upside down. She clutched at his shoulders and held on for dear life. Her lion was loose and on a rampage and she doubted anything she said or did would change that fact.
“You’re going to make love to me, aren’t you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
“Even though it breaks your promise to your grandfather?”
He shouldered his way into her bedroom. “I’m not breaking my promise to Primo. I put a ring on your finger. If you decide to take it off again, that’s your choice. As far as I’m concerned, we’re officially engaged.”
“Rafe—”
He lowered her to the bed and followed her down. “Do you really want me to stop?”
The question whispered through the air, filled with temptation and allure. It was truth time. She didn’t want him to stop. Just a few short days ago she’d never have believed herself capable of tumbling into bed with Leigh’s husband. It was the last thing she wanted from him. But now…
Now she couldn’t find the willpower to resist. It was wrong. So very wrong. And yet, she’d never felt anything so right. Every part of her vibrated with the sweetness of the connection that flowed between them. It danced from her body to his and back again, coiling around and through her, building with each passing second.
“I don’t want you to stop,” she admitted. “But I don’t want you to regret this later on.”
“Why would I regret it?” Despite the darkness, she could see the smile that flirted with his mouth and hear it penetrate his voice. “If anything, this should ease the tension between us.”
“Or make it worse.”
He leaned into her, sweeping the collar of her dress to one side and finding that sweet spot in the juncture between her neck and shoulder. “Does this feel worse?”
A soft moan escaped. “That’s not what I meant.”
“How about this?”
She shuddered at the caress. So soft. So teasing. Like the brush of a downy feather against her skin. “I mean when we go our separate ways. When the job ends. This will make it worse. Harder.”
“It just gives us some interesting memories to take with us when we part.”
“But it will end, right? You understand that?”
He traced a string of kisses down the length of her neck, pausing long enough to say, “I thought that was supposed to be my line.”
“I just want to be clear about it. That’s all.”
“Fine. We’re both clear about it.”
“There’s one other thing I should tell you before we go any further.”
He sat up with a sigh, allowing a rush of cool air to pour over her, chilling her. A second later the nightstand lamp snapped on, flooding the room with brightness. “The timing’s wrong, isn’t it?”
Larkin jackknifed upright. “No, not at all.” She twisted her hands together. “Do you think you could turn off the light?”
“Why?”
“I’d just find it easier to say this next part if the light were off.”
“Okay.” A simple click plunged the room back into the safety of darkness. “Talk.”
“I think it’s only fair to warn you. What we’re about to do?”
“You mean, what we were doing but aren’t?”
“Oh, no. It’s definitely are doing. Or rather, about to do. Unless you change your mind.”
“What the hell is going on, Larkin?”
“I’ve never done this before, okay?” she confessed in a rush.
Dead silence greeted her confession. “You mean you’ve never had an affair with someone after such a short acquaintance. You’ve never had a one-night stand. That’s what you mean, right?”
“That, too.”
He swore. “You’re a virgin?”
“Pretty much.”
“Last time I checked, that question required a yes or no answer. It’s like pregnancy. Either you are or you’re not. There’s no ‘pretty much’ or ‘sort of’ involved.”
She blew out a sigh. “Yes, I’m a virgin. Does it really matter that much?”
“I want to say no. But I’d be lying.” He stood. “Looks like Primo didn’t need to make that stipulation after all. All you had to do was say three simple words and you’re officially hands-off.”
She couldn’t let it end like this. She didn’t want it to end. She’d waited all this time for the right man and despite all that stood between them, she couldn’t imagine making love with anyone else. If she didn’t do something to stop him, he’d leave. Who knew if she’d be given another opportunity?
Larkin didn’t hesitate. Grabbing the tails of her shirtdress, she tugged it up and over her head and tossed it to one side. She fumbled for the bedside lamp and switched it on, then froze, overwhelmed by her daring.
Her actions seemed to have a similar effect on Rafe. He froze as well, staring at her with an expression that should have had her diving under the covers. Instead, it heated her blood to a near boil.
She stood before him in a silvery-blue bra and thong that were made of gossamer strands of silk, clinging to her breasts and hips like a glittering cobweb. The set was the most revealing she’d ever owned. The bra was low cut, lovingly cupping her small breasts and practically serving them up for Rafe’s inspection. Even more revealing was the thong. The minuscule triangle of semitransparent silk did nothing to protect her modesty. It just drew attention to her boyish hips and the feminine delta of her thighs. If she turned so much as a quarter of an inch, he’d also have a perfect view of the ripe curve of her backside.
It was as though he’d read her mind. “Turn around.” The demand was low and guttural, filled with uncompromising masculine promise. Or was it more of a threat?
She rotated in place, feeling the heat of his gaze streak across her, burning with intent. When she faced him again, he hadn’t moved from his position and her nervousness increased. Why wasn’t he reacting? Why hadn’t he taken her into his arms and carried her back to the bed?
“Rafe?” Anxiety rippled through the word.
“Take them off. No more barriers between us.”
This was not what she’d planned. “I thought you—”
He cut her off with a shake of his head. “I want you to be very certain about this. I don’t want there to be any lingering questions in your mind, now or later. If you want to make love with me, if you’re absolutely certain this is right for you, then take off the rest of your clothes.”
The light continued to blaze across her, ruthless in slicing through the protective barrier of darkness. She understood his point. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to touch her. She could see the desire blazing in his expression, could feel the palpable waves of control stretched to the breaking point. Every instinct urged him to take her. To lay claim.
But he wouldn’t. Not until she convinced him that she’d made this decision of her own free will, without his influencing her with one of his world-shattering kisses or beyond-delicious caresses.
She smiled.
There wasn’t any hesitation this time. She reached behind her and unhooked the bra. The straps slid down her arms and clung for a brief instant, as did the cups. Then it drifted from her body to disappear into the pool of shadows at her feet.
A low moan escaped Rafe, and the tips of her breasts pebbled in response. “Finish it,” he demanded.
She lifted an eyebrow, daring to tease. “Are you sure you wouldn’t like to take care of this last part yourself?”
He took a swift step forward before catching himself. “Larkin—”
She put him out of his misery. Tiny bows held the thong in place and she tugged at them, allowing the scrap of silk to follow the same path as her bra.
“Is this enough to convince you?” She held out her hand, the one where The Inferno throbbed with such persuasive insistence. “Please, Rafe. Make love to me.”
Rafe didn’t need any further encouragement. In two rapid strides he reached her side and wrapped her in an unbreakable hold. Together they fell backward onto the bed. His mouth closed over Larkin’s, hot with demand. She slid her fingers deep into his hair, anchoring him in place, as though afraid he’d leave her again if she didn’t. Foolish of her. Now that he had her naked in his arms, he intended to keep her that way for as long as humanly possible, and hang the consequences. All that mattered right now was making it the best possible experience for her.
“I’m feeling a bit overdressed,” he murmured against her mouth.
Her laugh was sweet and gentle and, for some reason, drove him utterly insane. “I think I can help you with that.”
She made short work of the buttons of his shirt, yanking the edges open and sliding it from his shoulders. He shrugged it the rest of the way off and sucked in his breath when her hands collided with his chest. She had a way of touching him, of stroking her fingers across him. Just. So. This time the strokes took her farther afield, tracing the center line of his abdomen downward until she collided with his belt.
“I can take care of that,” he offered. It might kill him to let go of her even for that brief a time. But considering the rewards of stripping off his trousers, he’d manage it.
“I’d like to do it.” She laughed. “At the risk of totally freaking you, I’ve never stripped a man before.”
It didn’t freak him. In fact, it had the opposite effect. He wanted her to experience it all, anything and everything she wanted. Whatever would please her. He only hoped it didn’t kill him in the process.
“Tell me if I do anything that makes you uncomfortable and I’ll stop.”
“I don’t think that’ll be an issue.”
He captured her hands in his before she could finish removing his clothes. “I’m serious, Larkin. It could happen. I want this to be as perfect as possible for you.”
She paused in her efforts long enough to cup his face. “See, here’s how I figure it. It isn’t the making-love part that needs to be perfect.”
Rafe choked on a laugh. “No? In that case, I’ve been wasting my time all these years.”
“Yes, you have,” she retorted. “What needs to be perfect is who you’re making love with.”
He closed his eyes and swallowed. Hard. “Hell, sweetheart. Don’t say that. I’m not perfect.”
“No, you’re not.” He caught the tart edge underscoring her words and couldn’t help chuckling. “But in this moment, you’re perfect for me. Right man. Right place. Right time.”
“But no pressure.”
Her laughter bubbled up to join his. “None at all.”
She made short work of his remaining clothing, removing the last of the barriers separating them. He gathered her up, spreading her across the bed. Moonlight picked a path into the room through the French doors leading into the yard. It was almost as though she drew the light to her. It seemed to rejoice in her presence, gilding her with its radiance and turning her skin and hair to silver. Only her eyes retained their vibrancy, glittering a glorious turquoise-blue that rivaled the most precious gem in his family’s possession.
He studied her with undisguised curiosity. Had she always been this small? This delicate? How could something so ethereal contain such a huge personality? Slowly he traced her features, finding a whimsical beauty in the arching curve of her cheekbones and straight, pert nose, her wide, sultry mouth and pointed chin. Then there was her body, superbly toned and supple.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen anyone more beautiful,” he told her.
She shook her head. “Lots of women are more beautiful.”
He stopped her denial with a slow, thorough kiss. “Not to me. Not tonight.” He pulled back a few precious inches, reluctant to separate them by even that much. “Shall I prove it to you?”
Her eyes widened and she nodded, a delighted grin spreading across her mouth. “If you must.”
“Oh, I must.”
He cupped her breasts, their slight weight fitting comfortably in his hands. Then he bent and tasted them, one after the other, scraping his teeth across the rigid tips. Her breath escaped in a gasp and she arched beneath him, offering herself more fully. She shifted beneath him, fluid and flowing, parting her legs to accommodate him. And all the while her hands performed a tantalizing dance, tripping and teasing across him, one minute urging him onward, the next startling him with an unexpected caress.
It became a game, each trying to distract the other, their need and tension escalating with each passing moment. He discovered that her legs were incredibly sensitive, and that if he traced a line along the very top of her thigh and eased inward to the moist heart of her, she’d quiver like the wings of a newly hatched butterfly.
Their game came to an abrupt end when she darted downward between their bodies and cupped him, delighted by his surging response. “Larkin,” he warned. “I can’t wait much longer.”
She squirmed in anticipation. “I don’t want you to wait.”
He snagged the condom he’d had the foresight to stash in her nightstand table. An instant later, he settled between her thighs. He lifted her knees, opening her for his possession. But he didn’t take her immediately. Instead, he slowed, making sure that the culmination of their lovemaking would be as pleasurable as the dance that had preceded it. Gently he parted her, found the secret heart hidden within and traced the sensitive nubbin.
She shuddered in reaction, lifting herself toward his touch. He slipped a finger inward, then two, and felt the velvety contraction of impending climax. “Rafe, please,” she whispered. “Make love to me.”
He carefully surged forward, claiming her as his own. She reached for him and he laced her hand in his. Their palms joined, melded, just as their bodies joined, melded. Heat flashed between them, sharp and penetrating, building with each thrust of his hips.
Larkin rose to meet him, singing her siren’s song, calling to him in a voice that penetrated straight to his heart, straight to his soul. It lodged there. Her sweet voice. Her heartbreaking gaze. The tempered strength of her body as it surrounded him, held him. Refused to let him go.
Never before had he felt anything remotely similar to this. Not with any other woman. It was as though the mating of their bodies had mated every other part of them, forging a connection he’d never known existed. Heat blazed within his palm, while an undeniable knowledge blossomed.
This night had changed him and he’d never be the same again.