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.”

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“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.




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