“Your mother spent a fortune on my hair and clothes. I can’t just leave. I owe her.”
“I’ll reimburse her.”
Larkin’s chin jerked upward. “Then I’ll owe you.”
“You can work it off at Dantes or we can just call it even for the time you’ve invested.”
“I’m not a taker,” she insisted fiercely.
He fought to keep his voice even. “I never said you were.”
He could see the frustration eating at her. “There are things you don’t know about me.” She began to pace. Kiko paced with her. “I got so caught up in your job offer and then your kisses that I haven’t been able to stop long enough to catch my breath. To…to explain things.”
He zeroed in on the most interesting part of her comments, unable to suppress his curiosity. “My kisses?”
She whirled to face him. “You know what I mean. I understand that it’s simple sexual chemistry, but I’m not… That is, I’ve never…” She thrust her hands through her hair, ruffling the curls into attractive disarray. “I flunked chemistry, okay?”
“Okay.”
“The whole Inferno thing made me lose my focus. I got off course.”
Something was seriously upsetting her and his humor faded, edging toward concern. “It’s not a problem, Larkin.”
“It is a problem.”
She practically yelled the words, pausing to control herself only when Kiko whimpered in distress. The dog paused between the two of them, at full alert, her ruff standing up, giving her a feral, dangerous appearance. Larkin made a quick hand gesture and the animal edged closer, rubbing up against her hip.
She forced herself to relax. “I’m sorry,” she said, though Rafe couldn’t tell if the apology was directed at him or the dog.
Okay, time to approach the situation the same way he did a business dilemma and apply some of his infamous Dante logic. “You told me you came to San Francisco to find someone. Is that what’s upset you? You feel like this job is distracting you from finding this person?”
“Yes. No.” She crouched beside Kiko and buried her face in the dog’s thick coat. “My search is only one of the reasons I’m here.”
“That’s not a problem,” he argued. “There’s no reason why you can’t continue with your search while working for me. In fact, I might be able to help. I know someone who is excellent at finding people. He’s the one who ran the security check on you last night.”
“It’s…complicated.”
Rafe hesitated. “And you don’t trust me enough to explain how or why or who.”
“No,” she whispered.
“Fair enough.”
He approached and crouched beside her. Kiko watched him but no longer appeared distressed, and he slipped his fingers through the dog’s thick fur until he’d linked his hand with Larkin’s. He could feel the leap and surge of their connection the instant they touched. Though he continued to reject the possibility that it was The Inferno, he couldn’t deny that something bound them together, something deep and powerful and determined.
“Here’s what I suggest,” he said softly. “Let’s do what we told my mother and Nonna we’d do. Let’s take this one day at a time. We’ll also give my suggestion a shot and get to know each other a little better. You tell me about yourself. Or at least, as much as you’re comfortable telling me. And I’ll reciprocate.”
She peeked up at him. “An even swap? Story for story?”
“Sounds fair.”
She considered for a minute before nodding. “Okay. Who goes first?”
“We’ll flip for it. Winner’s choice.” He lifted an eyebrow. “Agreed?”
She considered for an instant, then nodded. “Agreed.”
Satisfied to have them back on course, he released her hand and stood. “It’s getting late. Why don’t we throw together a simple meal, open a bottle of wine and sit outside and enjoy the evening? I think we’ll find it more comfortable to reveal personal details in the dark.”
“Definitely.”
They worked in concert after that. He grilled up most of the portion of the steak he hadn’t fed Kiko while Larkin threw together a salad. Then he nabbed a bottle of wine, a pair of glasses and a corkscrew on the way out of the kitchen. He set everything on the glass-and-redwood table on his patio. “There’s some crackers in the cupboard and cheese in the fridge,” he called to Larkin. “Oh, and Kiko will want the last of the beef that’s in there. Middle shelf.”
“She will, will she?”
“Absolutely. I’m sure that’s what I heard her just say.”
Larkin appeared in the doorway. “Kiko talks now?”
He lifted an eyebrow. “What? She doesn’t talk to you? Ever since you left this morning, I haven’t been able to get her to shut up.”
To his satisfaction, the final vestiges of distress leached from Larkin’s body. While she carried the last of the food to the table, he opened the cabernet and set it aside to breathe. Then he fed Kiko, who gave a contented grunt and settled down closest to where Rafe stood, no doubt hoping for another treat in the near future.
“You’ve corrupted her,” Larkin accused. “You’re going to make her fat.”
“I’m trying to keep from getting eaten. There’s another full moon tonight.”
“She’s not a wolf,” Larkin muttered.
“And you’re a lousy liar.”
“I’ll have to work on that.”
“Don’t.” A terseness drifted through the word. “I was married to an expert, so you have no idea how much I appreciate the fact that you don’t lie.”
For some reason his pronouncement had the opposite effect of what he’d intended. She shot to her feet and faced him with a desperate intensity. “You’re wrong. I am a liar. My being here is a lie. Our relationship is a lie. And I’ve told you any number of lies of omission. If you knew the truth about me, you’d throw me out right now. This minute.” She shut her eyes. “Maybe you should. Maybe Kiko and I should leave before this goes any further.”
Five
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 o
ut.”
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.
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