Dante's Temporary Fiancée

by Day Leclaire

  “I gather the ring is working? No one’s given you any trouble?”

  She stared down at it in open pleasure. “Your family hasn’t given me a moment’s trouble. And they were all so excited to see me wearing it.” Then the sorrow and regret returned. “I hope they won’t be too crushed when our engagement ends.”

  Time for the first step of his plan. “There’s no rush to end it,” he remarked in an offhand manner. “In fact, I think it may be necessary to continue the engagement for a while longer. Would that be a problem?”

  “I—I’m not sure.”

  He didn’t give her a chance to invent a list of excuses. No doubt she’d come up with them, but he had a plan for that, too. Hoping to distract her, he filled their plates with food. Then he opened the wine and poured them each a glass.

  They sat in companionable silence, soaking up the August sun while they ate and sipped their wine. It gave him plenty of opportunity to admire the sleek red one-piece she wore and the way it showcased her subtle curves. She was beautifully proportioned. Magnificent legs. A backside with just the perfect amount of curve to it. Narrow hips and an even narrower waist. And her breasts, outlined in the thin Lycra of her swimsuit, were the most delectable he’d ever seen. A dessert he planned to savor at the earliest possible opportunity.

  “Tell me something, Larkin.”

  “Hmm?”

  He gathered up their empty plates, slipped them into a plastic bag and returned them to the basket. “Why were you raised by your grandmother? What happened to your parents?”

  The instant his question penetrated, she stilled. It was like watching a wild animal who’d caught the unexpected scent of a predator. She didn’t say anything for a long time, which was so out of character for her that he knew he’d stumbled onto something important. She pulled her legs against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her grip on the stem of her wineglass so tight it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.

  She remained silent for long minutes, staring toward shore where Kiko chased a flutter of butterflies. “Gran raised me because my mother didn’t want me.”

  “What?” It was so contrary to his way of thinking, he struggled to process it. “How could someone not want you?”

  She buried her nose in her wineglass. “I don’t like to discuss it.”

  She didn’t actually use the words with strangers, but she might as well have. If anything, it made him all the more determined to pry it out of her. Hadn’t she done the same for him when it came to his relationship with Leigh, as well as those long-ago events at the lake when Draco had broken his leg? He understood all too well what it felt like to have a poison eating away inside. Larkin had lanced his wound. It was only fair he do the same for her.

  “What about your father?”

  She shifted. “He wasn’t in the picture.”

  “He left your mother?”

  To his relief, Larkin allowed the question, even smiled at it. “My mother wasn’t the sort of woman you leave. Not if you’re a typical red-blooded male. No, she left my father to return to her husband.”

  He couldn’t hide how appalled he was, couldn’t even keep it from bleeding into his voice. “That’s how you ended up living with your grandmother?”

  Larkin nodded. “My mother discovered she was pregnant with me shortly after she returned home. She and her husband already had a daughter, a legitimate one. Naturally, he wasn’t about to have proof of her infidelity hanging around the house, or have my presence contaminating his own daughter. So Mother kept my half sister and turned me over to Gran. She even gave me her maiden name, so her husband wouldn’t have any connection to me. Considering some of the alternatives, it wasn’t such a bad option.”

  In other words, her mother had abandoned her. He swore, a word that caused her to flinch in reaction. “And your father? What happened to him?”

  She didn’t reply. Instead she lifted a shoulder in an offhand shrug and held her glass out for a refill.

  He topped it off. “You don’t know who your father is, do you?”

  “Nope,” she confessed. “Barely a clue.”

  It killed him that she wouldn’t look at him. He didn’t know if it was embarrassment or shame or the simple fact that she was hanging on to her self-control by a thread. Maybe all of those reasons.

  He took a stab in the dark. “I gather he’s the one you’re looking for.”

  She saluted him with her glass. “Right again.”

  “So what’s his name? If you’d like, I’ll pass it on to Juice and we’ll have him tracked down in no time.”

  “Well, now, there’s the hitch.”

  Rafe winced. “No name.”

  “No name,” she confirmed.

  “I can’t think of a tactful way of asking my next question….”

  “Let me ask it for you. Did my mother even know who he was? Yes, as a matter of fact, she did.”

  “And she won’t give you his name?” Outrage rippled through Rafe’s voice.

  “She died before she got around to it, although she did let it slip one time that he lived in San Francisco. And Gran remembered her calling him Rory.”

  “Granted, that’s not a lot to go on,” Rafe conceded. “Even so, Juice may be able to help. Was there anything else? Letters, perhaps, or mementos?”

  “You don’t want to go there, Rafe,” she whispered.

  “Of course I want to go there. If it’ll help—”

  She set her glass on the raft with exquisite care. “Remember when I told you that my plan for an exit strategy from our engagement was on automatic? If you keep asking questions, the countdown begins.”

  “What the hell does finding your father have to do with ending our engagement?”

  Darkness filled her eyes, turning them sooty with pain. “I can explain, if you insist. But don’t forget I did try to warn you.”

  “Fine. You warned me. Now, what’s going on?”

  “My father gave my mother a bracelet shortly before she left him. I was going to use that to try to find him, assuming he wants to be found. It was unusual enough that it might help identify him.”

  “Go on.”

  “It was an antique bracelet.”

  “Great. So we’ll give Juice the bracelet—”

  She cut him off. “Small problem.” He could see her struggle to maintain her composure. “I don’t have it.”

  “Did you sell it?”

  “No! Never.”

  “Then where is it?”

  “My sister took it. My half sister.”

  Son of a bitch. Did he have to drag every last detail out of her? “Okay, I really don’t understand. How did she end up with your father’s bracelet if he wasn’t her father and the two of you didn’t grow up together?”

  “Every once in a while, Mom would drop by for a visit with my sister in tow. On one of the visits, Mom gave me the bracelet. My sister—half sister—was not happy. She had everything money could buy, except that one thing. And she wanted it. It ate at her. I realize now that she couldn’t stand the idea that I possessed something she didn’t. She threw a temper tantrum to end all temper tantrums.”

  “And your mother gave in? She gave the bracelet to your sister?”

  “Nope. She dragged my sister, kicking and screaming, out of my grandmother’s house. The few times they visited after that everything seemed fine, though one time I caught her snooping around in my room. But years later, long after Mom died, she showed up out of the blue. I thought it was an attempt to mend fences and reconnect.” Larkin’s laugh held more pain than amusement. “After she left I discovered that the bracelet had left with her.”

  “Can you get it back?”

  “I don’t know yet. Maybe.”

  “Is there anything I can do to help? Perhaps if we were to approach her, offer to purchase it?”

  For some reason the kindness in his voice provoked a flood of tears and it took her a minute to control them. “Thanks.”

  “Aw, hell.”

>   He swept her into his arms and she buried her face against his shoulder, her body curving into his. He couldn’t understand how a parent could abandon her child. But then, he couldn’t imagine making any of the choices Larkin’s mother had. No wonder Larkin took such delight in his family and the way they encouraged and supported and—yes—interfered in each other’s lives.

  Larkin had never had any of that. Worse, she’d been abandoned by her mother, never known the love of her father and been betrayed in the worst possible way by her half sister. Well, that ended. Right now.

  “We’ll take care of this, sweetheart. We’ll get your bracelet back and use it to track down your father. If anyone can do it, it’s Juice.” He pulled back slightly. “Let’s start with finding the bracelet. What’s your sister’s name? Where does she live?”

  Larkin caught him by surprise, ripping free of his embrace. Without a word she dived from the raft and struck out toward shore, cutting through the water as though all the demons of hell were close on her heels. He didn’t hesitate. He gave chase, reaching the shore only steps behind her. Catching her by the shoulder, he spun her around.

  “What the hell is going on?” he demanded, the air heaving in and out of his lungs. “Why did you take off like that?”

  She struggled to catch her breath. Water ran in thin rivulets down her face, making it impossible to tell whether it was from her swim or from tears. “I warned you. I warned you not to go there.”

  A hideous suspicion took hold. “Who is she, Larkin? Who has your bracelet? What’s her name?”

  “Her name is…was…Leigh.”

  “Leigh,” he repeated. He shook his head. “Not my late wife. Not that Leigh.”

  She closed her eyes and all the fight drained from her. “Yes, your late wife, Leigh. She was also my half sister.” She looked at him then, her eyes—those stunning aquamarine eyes—empty of all emotion. “And I wondered, assuming it’s not too much trouble, if you could give me back the bracelet she took from me.”

  For a split second Rafe couldn’t move, couldn’t even think. Then comprehension stormed through him. “All this time you’ve been with me, you’ve kept your relationship to Leigh a secret? All so you could find her bracelet?”

  “My bracelet. And no! Well, yes.” She thrust her hands into her wet hair in open frustration, standing the curls on end. “I didn’t move in with you in order to search for it, if that’s what you’re suggesting. But yes. I asked to be assigned to the Dantes reception in order to get an initial impression of you. To decide the best way to approach you.”

  She’d been sizing him up. Right from the start she’d been figuring out the perfect bait for her trap. And he’d fallen for it. Fallen for almost the exact same routine Leigh had used on him. The poor innocent waif. In Larkin’s case, abandoned by her mother, searching for her father. Raised by her grandmother. Was any of it true? None of Leigh’s stories had been. Or was this Larkin’s clever way to get her hands on whatever valuables his late wife had left behind?

  “What a fool I’ve been.”

  “I’m sorry, Rafe. To be honest—”

  “Oh, by all means,” he cut in sarcastically. “Do be honest. It would make such a refreshing change.”

  “I was going to tell you the truth the night you offered me a job.”

  He paced in front of her, more angry than he could ever remember being. Somehow Larkin had gotten under his skin in a way that Leigh never had, making the betrayal that much worse. “If you had told me that night, I’d have thrown you out then and there.”

  “I know.”

  “So you didn’t mention it.”

  Her mouth tilted to one side in a wry smile. “I think it had more to do with your asking me to be your fiancée and then kissing me. That pretty much blew every other thought out of my head.”

  The fact that his reaction had been identical to hers only served to increase his anger and frustration. “You still should have told me.”

  “Then your grandparents arrived on the scene and I got kicked out of my apartment.” She continued the recital with relentless tenacity. “Maybe I should have confessed then, but to be hon—” She winced. “The reason I didn’t was because I didn’t feel like spending a night on the streets.”

  “I wouldn’t have thrown you out in the middle of the night.” He smiled grimly. “At least, I don’t think so.”

  “Then in the morning I got swept off by Elia and Nonna. I really didn’t want to make the announcement in front of them.” She captured her lower lip between her teeth and a line of anxiety appeared between her brows. “But I shouldn’t have let them spend any money on me. That was totally wrong, and if it’s the last thing I do I’ll repay every dime.”

  “Would you forget about the damn money?” Rafe broke off and scrubbed his hands across his face. What the hell was he saying? Money was the reason she was here. She just had a different routine than Leigh, a far more effective one, as it turned out. “You had ample opportunity to tell me in the time we’ve been together. Why didn’t you?”

  She squared her shoulders. In her halter-top bathing suit they looked breathtakingly delicate and feminine—a fact he couldn’t help but notice despite all that stood between them. “You’re right. I should have told you. My only excuse is that I knew it would change everything between us.” Her chin quivered before she brought it under ruthless control. “And I didn’t want our relationship to change.”

  He did his best to ignore the chin. She might look like a helpless stray, but he didn’t doubt she was every bit as conniving as her sister. Blood will tell, as Primo always said. Of course, he’d been referring to The Inferno. But maybe greed and deceit and a lack of honor ran in some families the way The Inferno ran in his. Like mother, like daughter.

  “You want Leigh’s bracelet? Fine. You’ll have it first thing tomorrow. After that, I expect you to clear out.”

  His final comment kept her from replying for a moment. Her distress shouldn’t affect him. Not anymore. But for some reason it did. “Then you have it?” she asked in a low voice. “I wasn’t sure whether it had been lost when Leigh’s plane went down.”

  “It was at Dantes at the time, having the catch repaired. Right now it’s in my office safe.” He whistled for Kiko, then inclined his head toward the lake house. “Come on. We’re leaving. I’ll tell everyone there’s been an unexpected emergency.”

  She didn’t argue. “Of course.” Her tone turned formal. “I’ll find somewhere else to stay as soon as we get back to the city.”

  The comment only served to spin his anger to an all-time high. “As much as I’d love to have you gone, it’ll be far too late to find a place for both you and Kiko tonight. Tomorrow I’ll get your damn bracelet and find you a hotel or apartment willing to house you both.” He cut her off before she could argue. “Enough, Larkin. This discussion is over. From now on, we do things my way. And my way means you’re out of my life as soon as I can arrange it.”

  Rafe didn’t waste any time putting his plan into action. Nor did he give his family the chance to do more than express confused concern before he had the two of them and Kiko packed and loaded and flying down the road toward San Francisco.

  The instant they arrived home, Larkin made a beeline for her bedroom. Rafe followed. It wasn’t the smartest move, but he had some final questions he wanted answered. He paused in the doorway, struggling to see through the pretense to the woman she’d revealed herself to be—a woman ruled by greed and avarice and dishonesty.

  It was as though she read his mind. “I’m nothing like Leigh.” She threw the comment over her shoulder.

  “No? Time will tell.” He stared at her, broodingly. “Once I slipped a ring on your sister’s finger she went from sweet and innocent—like you—to cold and calculating. I have to hand it to her, she put on a great act leading up to our wedding. I guess I’m an easy mark when it comes to the helpless waif type of woman. Leigh was a more sophisticated version, granted, but that changed soon enough. It
didn’t take long to realize she wanted what every other woman wants from a Dante, the good life and everything my money could provide. I suppose I could have lived with that. For a while.”

  “Then what went wrong?”

  “It was the adultery that I refused to tolerate.”

  The fluid lines of Larkin’s body stiffened and she slowly turned to face him. “She cheated on you? You?”

  He supposed he should be flattered by the way she said that. “Hard to imagine?”

  “Yes, it is.”

  His eyes narrowed and he approached, swallowing up the narrow bones of her shoulders in his two hands. “How do you do it?”

  She stared up at him, eyes huge and startling blue, her expression one of stark innocence. Bambi in human form. “Do what?”

  “Look the way you do, so trustworthy and ingenuous, when everything you say is a total lie. How do you do that?”

  “I’m not Leigh.” She spoke calmly enough, but a hint of steel and temper washed across her face. “You’re trying to tuck us into the same little box and I refuse to allow it. I am not Leigh!”

  “And I might have believed you if you’d been candid about your connection to Leigh from the start. Just out of curiosity, was any of your story true? Were you really abandoned by your mother and raised by your grandmother?”

  Exhaustion lined her face, along with a heart-wrenching despair. “I’ve never lied to you, Rafe. I simply didn’t tell you about Leigh and the bracelet. I even told you I had secrets. Omissions. Remember?” She searched his face, probably looking for some weakness she could use to her advantage. “You said lying by omission was part of dating. Everything else I told you was the truth.”

  “And I’m supposed to just believe it.”

  “You know what, Rafe? I don’t care what you believe. I know it’s the truth and that’s all that matters.” She lifted her chin an inch. “You should be grateful to me, you know that? I’ve given you the perfect excuse for staying emotionally disconnected. I betrayed you. Now you can go back to being independent. The original lone wolf. You should be celebrating.”