by Day Leclaire
“I didn’t break anything.”
“Except a few hearts,” Draco joked. “No, I meant what happened to him when I broke my leg. Didn’t he tell you?”
Larkin shook her head. “No, he hasn’t mentioned it.”
“Oh, well, since we’re all going to the lake next week, not only can he fill you in on every last gory detail, but he can show you the very spot where it went down. I’d point out the tree that started the trouble, but Rafe went crazy one year and chopped it down.”
“It was infested,” Rafe responded with a terrible calm. “It needed to come down before it infected other trees.”
“You know, I’ve finally figured it out,” Draco marveled. “If reality doesn’t match the way you want your world to exist, you simply change your version of reality. Well, I’ve got news for you. That doesn’t make it real. That just makes you delusional.”
Larkin flinched at the word. She didn’t know what had happened to Rafe all those years ago, but she could feel the waves of turbulence rolling off him, his impressive willpower all that held the emotions in check.
“I think we’re being called to dinner,” she said, hoping to defuse the situation. Standing, she offered her hand to Rafe. “I can’t wait to sample Primo’s cooking. Everyone I’ve spoken to has raved about it.”
To her shock, he scooped her close. Lowering his head, he took her mouth in a slow, thorough kiss that caught her off guard and had her responding without thought or hesitation. “Thanks,” he murmured against her lips.
“Anytime,” she whispered back. Especially if it meant being rewarded with a kiss like that.
The kiss hadn’t escaped the notice of Rafe’s relatives, nor did she miss the gentle laughter and whispered comments that followed the two of them inside. She might have been embarrassed if not for the relieved delight on their faces. It didn’t take much guesswork to understand why. Clearly, Leigh had done quite a number on Rafe and they were thankful that he’d finally put the trauma of his marriage behind him. She winced.
If they only knew.
“You didn’t mention that we were expected to join your family at the lake next week,” Larkin said.
“Sorry about that.” He opened the door leading into the utility room off the kitchen and held it for her. “Is going to the lake with me a problem?”
With the exception of the few monosyllabic replies she’d offered in response to his various attempts at conversation, she hadn’t spoken a word since they’d left Primo’s. Rafe couldn’t decide whether to be relieved or concerned that she’d finally started talking again. Clearly, something was eating at her. If their visit to the lake was her main concern, he could handle that and would chalk the evening up as a reasonable success. Otherwise . . .
“No. I just would have appreciated a warning.”
Damn. She still wasn’t looking at him, which meant her silence wasn’t because of the trip to the lake. A lead-in, perhaps, or an oblique approach to the actual problem. But definitely not the problem itself. She crouched to greet Kiko, scanning the area as she did so.
“I don’t see any damage in here. Maybe we should do a quick walk-through, just to be on the safe side.”
“I’m sure she was fine.” He stooped beside the pair and gave Kiko a thorough rub. The dog moaned in ecstasy. “Weren’t you, girl?”
Sure enough, a quick inspection of the house revealed no damage. Once Larkin satisfied herself that Kiko had behaved while they were gone, he inclined his head toward the patio. “I’m not ready for the evening to end. Why don’t we go outside before turning in for the night?”
She hesitated, another ominous sign. “Okay.”
He removed a bottle from the refrigerator and nabbed a pair of crystal flutes, then followed her into the moonlit darkness. “Hmm. For some reason this has a familiar feel to it.”
She tossed a smile over her shoulder, one filled with feminine enchantment. “Been there, done that?”
He set the bottle on the table. “Close, though a bit different from what I have planned for this evening.”
She eyed the bottle and stilled. “Champagne?” A frown worried at the edges of her expression. “Are we celebrating something?”
“I guess that depends on how well this goes over.” He removed a small jewelry box from his pocket and flipped it open, revealing the glittering ring within. “I couldn’t wait until Monday,” he explained in response to her look of shock. “Hell, I barely made it through last night.”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Oh, Rafe. What have you done?”
His eyes narrowed. “You knew this was coming. I just moved up the timetable by a day or two. After last night . . .” He broke off with a shrug.
She actually blushed, which he found fascinating. At a guess, she didn’t often wander around naked in the moonlight. A shame. It suited her. It also suited him.
“It’s just…” She took a quick step backward. Not a good sign.
“Just what?”
He resisted the urge to follow her, stalk her. Instead, he set the ring on the table beside the bottle of champagne, realizing he’d been so focused on his own needs, he hadn’t taken Larkin’s into consideration. The ring and all that went with it could wait. He wanted her to enjoy their first time together, not be distracted by worries he could help ease.
“Honey, you barely spoke a word the entire way home. So either it’s that, or it’s the trip to the lake, or there’s something else worrying you. Why don’t you tell me which it is?”
He closed the distance between them and gathered her hands in his. It felt so right when he held her like this, reveling in the wash of warmth that flowed between them. Why did his family have to take something so basic, so natural, and wrap it up in myth and superstition? It was simple sexual attraction. Granted, the connection between them felt amazing. But couldn’t they just call a spade a spade and let it go at that? Did they have to cloak a simple chemical reaction behind a ridiculous fairy tale?
“What’s wrong, Larkin?”
Her gaze swept past him to fix on the table. “The only reason you bought me champagne and a ring is so you could make love to me.”
He winced. Stripping it down to the bare-bones truth tarnished what he’d considered a romantic overture. “I thought—”
She cut him off without hesitation. “You thought that since you were buying my services, a bottle of champagne and a ring were sufficient. That you didn’t have to turn it into some sort of big romantic gesture. I get that. It’s not real, so why pretend it’s anything more than sex, right?”
He released her hands and blew out his breath in a sigh. “Hell.”
“I want to make love to you. But this—” She shivered. “An engagement ring is real, Rafe. It’s a serious commitment, just like marriage. You’re treating it like it’s some sort of casual game or a fast, easy way to get me into bed.”
Anger flashed and he struggled to contain it. “I’m well aware that marriage isn’t a game. Cold, hard experience, remember?”
She stepped away from him, melting into the surrounding shadows, making it impossible to read her expression. “You hired me to do a job. You hired me to play the part of your fiancée for your friends and family and I’ve agreed to do that even though it goes against the grain to lie to them. You aren’t paying me to sleep with you.”
The comment had his anger ripping free of his control. “I’d never reduce it to something so sordid. One has nothing to do with the other. I wouldn’t dream of putting a price tag on that aspect of our relationship. It would be an insult to both of us.”
“And yet, you’re only offering me that ring so you can get me in bed. Seems to me that’s a hefty price tag.”
He went after her and pulled her from the shadows and into his arms. “You know damn well why I offered you that ring. I made a promise to Primo, a promise I won’t break. Do I want to make love to you? Hell, yes! But I can’t and won’t do it unless you’re officially my fiancée. It’s going to happen eve
ntually. Why not now?” He cupped her chin, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I woke Sev this morning to open up Dante Exclusive and I picked out a ring for you. And not just any ring. A ring that reminded me of you. That seemed tailor-made for you.”
He could tell his words had an impact. Her attention strayed to the table, her eyes full of curiosity and something else. A wistfulness that tore at his heart. “I won’t be bought.”
“And I’m not buying you. Not when it comes to this part of our relationship.” His anger dampened, allowing him to rein it in. He didn’t understand how she could rouse his emotions with such ease. He’d never had that problem with any other woman, not even Leigh. If anything, ice encased him whenever he’d dealt with her. “As far as I’m concerned, what happens in bed has nothing to do with your posing as my fiancée. If we’d met under different circumstances, we’d still have ended up there. You just wouldn’t have had my ring on your finger.”
She took a deep breath, conceding the point. “Show me the ring.”
He took that as an encouraging sign. Crossing to the table, he collected the jewelry box. Removing the ring, he gathered her hand in his and slid it onto the appropriate finger. Even in the subdued lighting, the stones took on a life of their own.
The central diamond—one of the fire diamonds that made Dantes jewelry so exclusive and world renowned—sparkled with a hot blue flame. On either side of it were more fire diamonds, each subsequently smaller and bluer, the final one as pale and clear and brilliant a blue as Larkin’s eyes. The stones were arranged in a delicate filigree Platinum Ice setting that seemed the perfect reflection of her appearance and personality.
“It’s . . .” She broke off and cleared her throat. “It’s the most beautiful ring I’ve ever seen.”
“It’s from the Dantes Eternity line.”
Her gaze jerked upward. “The ones that were being showcased at the reception?”
“The very same. Every last one is unique and each has a name.”
She hesitated before asking, “What’s this one called?”
It was such an obvious question. He didn’t understand her reluctance to ask it. But then, what he didn’t understand about a woman’s emotions could fill volumes. “It’s called Once in a Lifetime.”
“Oh. What a perfect name for it.” To his concern, tears filled her eyes. “But you must see why I can’t accept this.”
Okay, it was confirmed. He did not—and never would—understand women. “No, I don’t see. Explain it to me.”
“It’s Once in a Lifetime.”
“I get that part.” He fought for patience and tried again. “Just to clarify, you can’t accept a ring from me? As in any ring? Or you can’t accept this specific ring?”
A tear spilled out, just about sending him to his knees. “This one.” It took her an instant to gather her self-control enough to continue. “I can’t—won’t—accept this ring.”
He planted his fists on his hips. “Why the hell not?”
Now her lips and chin got into the act, quivering in a way that left him utterly helpless. “Because of the name.”
“You have got to be kidding me.” He snatched a deep breath, throttled back on full-bore Dante bend-’em-till-they-break tone of voice and switched to something more conciliatory. “If you don’t like the name, we’ll just change it. No big deal.”
She shook her head, loosening another couple of tears. They seemed to sparkle on her cheeks with as much brilliance as the diamonds in the ring she couldn’t/wouldn’t accept. “I’m sure you can see how wrong that would be.”
“No, actually I can’t.” He tried to speak calmly. He really did. For some reason his voice escaped closer to a roar. So much for conciliatory. “It’s a prop. Part of the job. And it’s yours once the job ends.”
She tugged frantically at the ring. “Absolutely not. I couldn’t accept it.”
His back teeth locked together. “It’s compensation,” he gritted out. “We agreed beforehand that it would be.”
Her chin jerked upward an inch. “It’s excessive and taints the meaning of such a gorgeous ring.” She managed to tug it off her finger and held it out to him. “I’m sorry, Rafe. I can’t accept this.”
Damn it to hell! “You’re required to wear it as part of your official duties. Once the job ends you can keep it or not. That’s up to you.”
“I won’t be keeping it.”
He shrugged. “Then I’ll give you the cash equivalent.”
She caught her lower lip between her teeth in obvious agitation. “I think it’s time we amended our original agreement. In fact, I insist we amend it. When you initially mentioned my keeping the ring, I didn’t realize we were talking about something of this caliber.”
“If I offered you anything less, my family would know our engagement isn’t real.”
“Which is the only reason I’m willing to wear your ring.” She drew back her hand and gazed down at her palm with a hint of longing. “Maybe a different one? Something smaller. Something that doesn’t have a name.”
“Sev knows which ring I chose. It’ll cause comment if we exchange it.” He didn’t give her the opportunity to dream up any more excuses. Plucking the ring from her palm, he returned it to her finger. To his relief, she left it there, though his relief was short-lived.
“About that amendment . . .” she began.
He folded his arms across his chest. He should have seen it coming. Now that she had him between a rock and a hard place, she could name her terms and he’d be forced to agree. Or so she thought. He’d soon disabuse her of that fact. Just as he had Leigh when she’d pulled a similar stunt.
“Name your demands.”
Larkin blinked in surprise. “Demands?”
“That’s what they are, aren’t they? I’ve introduced you to my entire family as my fiancée. We’re committed to seeing this through. And now you want to change the terms of our agreement.” He shrugged. “What else am I supposed to call it?”
Everything about her shut down. Her expression. The brilliance of her gaze. Her stance. Even the way she breathed. One minute she’d been a woman of vibrancy and the next she might as well have been a wax figurine. “I don’t want your money, Rafaelo Dante.” Even her voice emerged without inflection. “You can keep your ring and your cash. I only want one thing. A favor.”
“What favor?”
She shook her head, her features taking on a stubborn set. “When I’ve performed my duties to your satisfaction and the job has ended, then I’ll ask you. But not before.”
“I need some sort of idea what this favor is about,” he argued.
“It’s either something you can grant me, or not. You decide when the time comes.”
He considered for a moment. “Does this have something to do with the person you’re looking for?”
“Yes.”
Her request didn’t make the least sense. “Honey, I’ve already said I’d help you with that. I’m happy to help. But I hired you for a job and you deserve to be paid for that job.”
She cut him off. “It’s not just a matter of my giving you a name to pass on to Juice. There’s more to it than that. For me, that something is of far greater value to me than your ring or cash or anything else you’d offer as compensation.”
“I think I’ll make that determination when the job is over. If your request doesn’t strike me as a fair bargain—fair for you, I mean—then I’m going to pay you. If you don’t want the ring, fine. If you don’t want the money, fine. You can donate it all to charity or to the animal rescue group of your choice.”
Even that offer had little impact. “Do you agree to my terms?” she pressed. “Yes or no?”
Depending on the favor, it struck him as a reasonable enough request, though he suspected he’d discover the hidden catch at some point. There had to be one. He’d learned that painful fact during his marriage, as well as from a number of the women who’d preceded his late wife. When you were an eligible Dante, it was all about w
hat you could give a woman. Once they’d tied the knot and Leigh had dropped her sweet-and-innocent guise, she’d made that fact abundantly clear. Well, he’d deal with Larkin’s hidden catch when it happened, because there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that it would be a “when” rather than an “if.”
“Sure,” he agreed, wondering if she could hear the cynicism ripping through that single terse word. “If it’s within my power to give you what you ask, I’m happy to do it.”
“Time will tell,” she murmured in response. “I do have one other request.”
“You’re pushing it, Larkin.” Not that his warning had any impact whatsoever.
“It’s just that I was wondering about something.” She continued blithely along her path of destruction. “And I was hoping we could discuss it.”
He gestured for her to finish. “Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“What happened at the lake when Draco broke his leg?”
“Hell. Is that what’s been bothering you all night?”
“What makes you think anything was bothering me?” she asked, stung.
“Gee, I don’t know. Maybe it was that long stretch of silence on the trip back from Primo’s. Or the fact you’ve been on edge ever since our conversation with Draco.”
He shouldn’t have mentioned his brother. It brought her lasering back to her original question. “Seriously, Rafe. What happened to you that day at the lake? The day Draco broke his leg?”
When he remained silent, she added, “Consider it a condition of my leaving this ring on my finger.”
Son of a bitch! “Now you’re really pushing it.”
“Tell me.”
“There’s not much to tell.”
He crossed to the table and made short work of opening the bottle of Dom. Not that he was in the mood for a celebration. What he really wanted was to get rip-roaring drunk and consign his entire family, the bloody Inferno, and even his brand-new, ring-wearing fiancée straight to the devil. Splashing the effervescent wine into each of the two flutes, he passed one to Larkin before fortifying himself with a swallow.
