“If you mean I refuse to be trapped in another marriage, you’re right,” Rafe responded in a cool voice.

Draco leaned toward her. “Oh, and did I happen to mention that he doesn’t want to believe?”

Despite the pain that Rafe’s comments caused, Larkin’s lips quivered in amusement. “You may have said something to that effect once or twice.”

“Tell me you’re any different,” Rafe shot back at his brother. “Are you ready to surrender your current lifestyle to the whims of The Inferno?”

Something dark and powerful rippled across the even tenor of Draco’s expression. Something that hinted at the depths he concealed beneath his easygoing facade. Larkin watched in fascination. The dragon stirs came the whimsical thought.

Draco took his time responding, taking the question seriously. “Answer me this…. If your Inferno bride dropped into your arms out of the blue, would you push her away?”

Rafe spared Larkin a brief glance. “Is that what you think happened to us?”

“To you?” Draco seemed startled by the question. His dark gaze flashed from his brother to Larkin. “Sure, okay. Let’s say it happened to the two of you. Are you going to turn away from it?”

“It didn’t happen to us,” Rafe stated with quiet emphasis. “It didn’t because there is no such thing as The Inferno, so there’s nothing to turn away from.”

Draco flipped a quick, sympathetic look in Larkin’s direction before responding to his brother. “In that case, either you deserve an Academy Award for your performance tonight, or you’re a lying SOB. I can’t help but wonder which one it is.”

Rafe regarded his brother through narrowed green eyes. “You should know which one, since you’re responsible for staging this little play.”

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“I may have orchestrated the opening scene,” Draco shot right back, “but that’s where my participation in this comedy of errors ended. Your role, on the other hand, appears to have taken on an unexpected twist.”

Draco struck with the speed of a snake, snagging his brother’s wrist. Larkin’s gaze dropped to Rafe’s hand and she inhaled sharply. He’d been caught red-handed—literally—rubbing the palm of his right hand with the thumb of his left, just as she’d been doing ever since they’d first touched.

“Part of the act,” Rafe claimed.

But Larkin could see the lie in his eyes and hear it in his voice and feel it in the heat centered in her palm.

“Keep telling yourself that, bro, but in case you’re wondering, I’m choosing Option B. That’s lying SOB, in case you’ve forgotten.” Draco deliberately changed the subject. “Hey, sister-to-be, I see I’m not the only one with an eventful childhood.”

The change in subject knocked her off-kilter. “Sorry?”

He gestured to the nearly invisible network of scars along her leg. “We match. Mine was due to falling out of a tree. How about you?”

He asked the question so naturally that she didn’t feel the least embarrassed or self-conscious. “Did a pirouette off a stage.”

He winced. “Ouch.” He nudged Rafe. “Of course, my ordeal wasn’t anywhere near as bad as Rafe’s.”

“Rafe’s?” She turned to him. “Did you break your leg, too? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“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.”




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