Dante's Temporary Fiancée (2 page)

Draco approached. “So? Have you given my idea any thought?”

Rafe stared blankly. “What idea?”

“Weren't you listening to me?”

“It usually works best if I don't. Most of the time your suggestions only lead one place.”

Draco grinned. “Trouble?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“Well, this one won't. All you have to do is find your Inferno bride and everyone will leave you alone.”

Rafe shook his head. “Apparently you're not great at listening, either. After that disaster of a marriage to Leigh, I'm never going to marry again.”

“Who said anything about marriage?”

Rafe narrowed his eyes. “Explain.”

“You know, for such a smart, analytical-type guy, there are times when you can be amazingly obtuse.” Draco spoke slowly and distinctly. “Find a woman. Claim it's The Inferno. Maintain the illusion for a few months. Act the part of two people crazy in love.”

Rafe's mouth twisted. “I don't do crazy in love.”

“If you want everyone to leave you alone, you will. After a short engagement, have her dump you. Make it worth her while to go a long way away and stay there.”

“You've come up with some boneheaded ideas in your time. But this one has to be the most ludicrous—” Rafe broke off and turned to stare in the direction of the kitchen. “Huh.”

Draco chuckled. “You were saying?”

“I think I have an idea.”

“You're welcome.”

Rafe shot his brother a warning look. “If you say one word about this to anyone—”

“Are you kidding? Nonna and Primo would kill me, not to mention our parents.”

“You?”

Draco stabbed his finger against Rafe's chest. “They wouldn't believe for one minute you were clever enough to come up with a plan like this.”

“I'm not sure
clever
is the right word. Conniving, maybe?”

“Diabolically brilliant.”

“Right. Keep telling yourself that. Maybe one of us will believe you. In the meantime, I have an Inferno bride to win.”

Rafe headed for the kitchen. He arrived just in time to see Larkin refusing the wad of money Barney was
attempting to press into her hand. “I'll be fine, Mr. Barney.”

“You know you need it for rent.” He stuffed the cash into the pocket of her vest and gave her a hug. “We're going to miss you, kiddo.”

One by one the waitstaff followed suit. Then Larkin turned toward the exit and Rafe caught the glitter of tears swimming in her eyes. For some reason a fierce, protective wave swept through him.

“Larkin,” he said. “If I could speak to you for a minute.”

Her head jerked around, surprise registering in her gaze. “Certainly, Mr. Dante.”

Instead of exiting into the reception area, he escorted her through the door leading to the hallway. “Is there a problem?” she asked. “I hope you don't blame Mr. Barney for my mistake. He did fire me, if that helps.”

Ouch. “It's nothing like that,” he reassured. “I wanted to speak to you in private.”

Leading the way to the wing of private offices, he reached a set of double doors with a discreet gold plaque that read “Rafaelo Dante, President, Dantes Courier Service.” He keyed the remote control fob in his pocket and the doors snicked open. Gesturing her into the darkened interior, he touched a button on a panel near the door. Soft lights brightened the sitting area section of his office, leaving the business side with its desk, credenza and chairs in darkness.

“Have a seat. Would you like anything to drink?”

She hesitated, then gave a soft laugh. “I know I'm supposed to say no, thank you. But I'd love some water.”

“Coming right up.”

He opened the cabinet door that concealed a small refrigerator and removed two bottles of water. After collecting a pair of glasses and dropping some ice cubes into each, he joined her on the couch. Sitting so close to her might have been a mistake. He could sense her in ways he'd rather not. The light, citrusy scent of her that somehow managed to curl around and through him. The warmth and energy of her body. The way the light caught in her hair and left her eyes in dusky blue shadow. He'd hoped the business setting would dampen his reaction to her. Instead, the solitude served only to increase his awareness.

He gathered his control around him like a cloak, forcing himself to deal with the business at hand. “I'm sorry about your job,” he said, passing her the water. “Firing you seems a bit severe for a simple accident.”

“I don't normally work the more exclusive accounts. This was my first time.” She made a face. “And my last.”

“The catering firm won't switch you over to work some of their smaller parties?”

She released a sigh. “To be honest, I doubt it. The woman in charge of those accounts isn't a fan of mine right now.”

“Personality conflict?”

The question made her uncomfortable. “Not exactly.”

If he was going to hire her, he needed to gather as much information about her as possible, especially if she didn't deal well with authority. “Then what, exactly?” he pressed.

“Her boyfriend was on the waitstaff, and…”

“And?”

“He hit on me,” Larkin reluctantly confessed.

“Something you encouraged?”

To his surprise, she didn't take offense at the question. In fact, she laughed. “JD doesn't require encouragement. He hits on anyone remotely female. I hope Britt figures out what a sleaze he is sooner, rather than later. She could do a lot better.”

Rafe sat there for a moment, nonplussed. “You're worried about your supervisor, not your job?”

“I can always get another job, even if it's washing dishes,” Larkin explained matter-of-factly. “But Britt's nice…when she's not furious because JD's flirting with the help. I just got caught in the middle.”

Huh. Interesting assessment. “And now?”

For the first time a hint of worry nibbled at the corners of her eyes and edged across her expression. “I'm sure it will all work out.”

“I overheard Barney say something about rent.”

She released a soft sigh, the sound filled with a wealth of weariness. “I'm a little behind. What he gave me for tonight's work should cover it.”

“But you need another job.”

She tilted her head to one side. “I don't suppose you're hiring?”

He liked her directness. No coyness. No wide-eyed, gushing pretense or any sort of sexual over- or undertones. Just a simple, frank question. “I may have a job for you,” he admitted cautiously. “But I'd need to run a quick background check. Do you have any objections?”

And then he saw it. Just a flash of hesitation before she shook her head. “I don't have any objections.”

“Fine.” Only, it wasn't fine. Not if she were hiding
something. He couldn't handle another deceptive woman who faked innocence and then demonstrated avarice.
Refused
to deal with that sort of woman. “Full name?”

“Larkin Anne Thatcher.”

She supplied her social security number and date of birth without being asked. He pulled out his cell and texted one of his brother's former security associates, Juice, with the request. He'd have gone through Luc, but there might be uncomfortable questions when he later presented Larkin as his Inferno bride. Better to keep it on the down low. In the meantime, he'd get some of the preliminary questions out of the way.

“Have you ever been arrested?” Rafe asked.

Larkin shook her head. “No, never.”

“Drugs?”

A flash of indignation came and went in her open gaze before she answered in a calm, even voice. “Never. I've needed to take drug tests for various jobs in the past, including this latest one. I have no objection to taking one here and now if you want.”

“Credit or bankruptcy issues?”

Indignation turned to humor. “Aside from living on a shoestring? No.”

“Health issues?”

“Not a one.”

“Military history?”

“I haven't served.”

“Job history?”

Now she grinned. “How much time do you have?”

Rafe eyed her curiously. “That many?”

“Oh, yeah. The list is as long as it is diverse.”

“Any special reason?”

She hesitated again, but he didn't pick up any hint of evasion, just thoughtfulness. “I've been searching.”

“Right job, right place?”

She seemed pleased that he'd understood so quickly. “Exactly.”

“I can't promise to offer that, but I might have something temporary.”

For some reason she appeared relieved. “Temporary will work. In fact, I prefer it.”

“Not planning on staying in San Francisco for long?” He tried to keep the question casual, but conceded that as attractive as he found her, he'd feel better about his proposition if she intended to move on a few months from now.

“I don't know. Actually, I'm looking for someone. I think he may be here.”

“He.” That didn't bode well for his little project. “Former lover?”

“No. Nothing like that.”

He pressed. “Who are you trying to find?”

“That's not really any of your business, Mr. Dante,” she said gently. “What I will tell you is that it won't have an impact on any job you might offer me.”

He let it go. For now. “Fair enough.”

His cell vibrated and he checked it, surprised to find that Juice had completed his preliminary check. Had to be a new record. Either that or Larkin Thatcher didn't have much history to find. The text simply said “Clean,” but he'd attached an email that went into more specifics.

Rafe excused himself long enough to access his computer and scan it. Nothing unusual other than a
long and varied work history. Considering she was only twenty-five, it was rather impressive.

“Still interested in offering me a job?” she asked.

It was the first time she'd betrayed any nerves, and it didn't take much thought to understand the cause. “How far behind are you on your rent?”

She tapped her pocket. “As I said, this will catch me up.”

“But it won't leave you anything to spare for utilities or food, will it?”

She lifted a narrow shoulder in a wordless shrug that spoke volumes.

He took a moment to consider his options. Not that he had many. Either he made the offer and put Draco's plan into action, or he forgot the entire idea. He could still find a position for Larkin. In fact, there was no question that he'd do precisely that. The question was…Which job?

If it weren't for the Parade of Brides, it would have been an easy question to answer. But the unpleasant truth was, he just didn't know how much more of his family's interference he could handle. It had gotten to the point where it wasn't interfering just with his private life, but with his business life, as well. These days, he couldn't turn around without running into one of his many relatives. And for some reason, they were always accompanied by a young, single woman.

He needed it to stop…and soon.

Before he could decide, Larkin stood. “Mr. Dante, you seem hesitant.” She offered an easy smile. “Why don't I make it easy for you? I really appreciate your concern, but this isn't the first time money's been tight.
I'm sort of like a cat. One way or another, I always land on my feet.”

“Sit down, Larkin.” He softened the demand with a smile. “My hesitation isn't whether or not I have a job available for you. It's which job to offer.”

She blinked at that. “Oh. Well…I can handle most general office positions, if that helps. Receptionist. File clerk. Secretary or assistant.”

“What about the position of my fiancée?” He folded his arms across his chest and lifted an eyebrow. “Do you think you could handle that?”

F
or a split second Larkin couldn't breathe. It was as though every thought and emotion winked off.

“Excuse me?” she finally said.

“Yeah, I know.” He thrust his hand through his hair, turning order into disorder. For some reason, it only added to his overall appeal. Before, he'd seemed a bit too perfect and remote. Now he looked wholly masculine, strong and authoritative with a disturbing edginess that most women found irresistible. “It sounds crazy. But actually it's fairly simple and straightforward.”

Larkin didn't bother to argue. Nothing about this man was the least simple or straightforward. Not the fact that he was a rich and powerful man. Not his connection to one of San Francisco's leading families, the Dantes. Not his stunning good looks or the intense passion he kept so carefully hidden from those around him. How did the scandal sheets refer to him? Oh, right. The lone
wolf who was also, ironically, the “prettiest” of the male Dantes.

True on both counts.

To her eternal regret, it was also true that he was still so madly in love with his late wife that he never wanted to marry again. Too bad he'd married a woman who, while as beautiful to look at as the man pacing in front of her, possessed a single imperative—to take and use whatever she wanted in life, regardless of the cost or harm it might do to others.

“I overheard you, you know,” she warned. “I heard you tell your brother you never wanted to marry again. Not after Leigh.”

“Leigh was my late wife,” he explained. “And you're right. I don't ever want to marry again. But I do need a fiancée. A temporary fiancée.”

She wasn't usually so slow on the uptake. Even so, none of this made the least bit of sense to her. “Temporary,” she repeated.

He took the chair across from her and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees. Having him so close only made it more difficult to think straight. She didn't understand it. Of all the men in San Francisco, he should have been the very last she'd find attractive. And yet, every one of her senses had gone screaming onto high alert the instant he'd turned those brilliant jade-green eyes in her direction.

“You'd have to understand my family to fully appreciate my situation,” he said.

Larkin fought to keep her mouth shut. How many times had she gotten herself into an awkward predicament because of her particular brand of frankness? More times than she could count. Despite her determination,
a few stray words slipped out. “Your family does have a knack for hitting the gossip magazines.”

To her surprise, he looked relieved. “Then you've read about The Inferno?”

“Yes.” Excellent. That was short and sweet, and yet truthful. Added bonus…he seemed pleased with her answer.

“Then I don't have to explain what it is or that my family—most of them, anyway—believe implicitly in its existence.”

Something in his manner and delivery clued her in to his opinion of the matter. “But you don't?”

A wickedly attractive smile touched his mouth. “Have I shocked you?”

“A little,” Larkin admitted. She couldn't come up with a tactful way to ask her next question, so she tossed it out, not sure if it would land with all the explosive power of a grenade or turn out to be a dud. “What about your wife?”

“Never. We never experienced The Inferno. Nor would I have ever wanted to. Not with her.”

Larkin's mouth dropped open. “Wait a minute—”

He cut in with cold deliberation. “Let me make this easy for you. My wife and I were about to divorce when she died. Any version of The Inferno we might have shared was the more literal, hellish kind, not this fairy tale my family's dreamed up.”

“When you say you never want to marry again…” she probed delicately.

“It's because I have no intention of ever experiencing that particular level of hell again.”

“Okay, I understand that.” Considering how well she'd
known Leigh, she didn't blame the poor man. “But that doesn't explain your need for a temporary fiancée.”

“My family recently discovered that Leigh and I never felt The Inferno toward each other.”

Larkin was quick on the uptake. “And now they're trying to find the woman who will.”

“Exactly. It's interfering with every aspect of my life. And since they won't stop until she's found, I've decided to take care of that for them.”

His smile broadened. It would have turned his stunning good looks into something beyond spectacular if it hadn't been for the coldness in his green eyes. The smile stopped there, revealing a wintry barrenness that tugged at Larkin's heart. She'd always had a soft spot for strays and underdogs. In fact, some day she hoped to work full-time for an animal rescue organization. She suspected that for all his wealth and position, and despite the loving support of his large family, Rafe Dante qualified as both a stray and an underdog, which put her heart at serious risk.

“You want to pretend that you've experienced this Inferno with me?” she clarified.

“In a nutshell, yes. I want all of my relatives to believe it, too. We'll become engaged, and then a few months from now, you'll decide that you can't marry me. I'm sure I'll give you ample reasons for calling off our engagement. You dump me and disappear. I, of course, will be heartbroken to have found and lost my Inferno bride. Naturally, my family will be sympathetic and won't dare throw any more women my way.” He smiled in satisfaction. “End of problem.”

“And why won't your family throw more women your way?”

“How can they, since you were my one true soul mate?” he pointed out with ruthless logic. “They can't have it both ways. Either you were my once-in-a-lifetime Inferno match or The Inferno isn't real. Somehow I suspect that rather than admit that the family legend doesn't exist, they'll decide that my one shot at Inferno happiness decided to dump me. I'll then have no other choice but to continue my poor, lonely, miserable existence never having found matrimonial bliss. A tragedy, to be sure, but I'll do my best to survive it.”

Larkin shook her head in mock admiration. “A trouper to the end.”

“I try.”

She released her breath in a gusty sigh. “Mr. Dante—”

“Rafe.”

“Rafe. There's something you should know about me. A couple of things, actually. First, I'm not a very good liar.”

She opened her mouth to explain the second reason, one that would not just put a nail in the coffin of his job offer, but bury that coffin six feet down. He didn't give her the opportunity, cutting her off with calm determination.

“I noticed that about you earlier. I admire your honesty. In my opinion, it's the perfect way to convince my relatives that we're in the throes of The Inferno.”

Her thoughts scattered like leaves before a brisk fall wind. “Excuse me?”

“We're going to try a little experiment. If it doesn't work, we'll forget my plan and I'll find someone else. I'll still offer you a job, just a more conventional one.” He
eyed her with predatory intent. “But if my experiment works, you agree to my plan.”

“Experiment?” she asked uneasily. “What sort of experiment?”

“First, I want to set up a few parameters.”

“Parameters.”

How could Leigh ever have hoped to control a man like this? Through sex, of course. But somehow Larkin suspected that would work for only so long and solely within the confines of the bedroom. She didn't need more than five minutes in Rafe's company to figure out that much about him.

“I'm a businessman, first and foremost. Before we move forward, I want to make sure we have a clear meeting of the minds.”

Larkin struggled not to smile. “Why don't you explain your parameters and then we'll see what sort of agreement we can come to.”

“First, I need to make it clear that this is a temporary relationship. When either of us is ready to put an end to it, it ends.”

She gave it a moment's consideration before shrugging. “I suppose that's no different than a real engagement.”

“Which is my next point. You don't want to lie. I don't want you to lie. So if we become engaged, from that moment forward it
is
real. The only difference will be that at the end of the engagement—and our engagement will end—I'll see to it that you receive fair compensation for your time.”

“The engagement will be real, but we preplan the ending.” She lifted an eyebrow. “I swear I'm not being deliberately obtuse, but I don't see how those two are mutually compatible.”

He hesitated, a painful emotion rippling behind his icy restraint. “I don't do relationships well,” he confessed, “or so I've been told. I suspect you'll discover that for yourself soon enough and be only too happy to end our involvement. Until then, it will be the same as any other engagement, right down to a ring on your finger and making plans for an eventual wedding day.” His mouth twisted. “I'd rather it be a far distant eventual wedding day that doesn't involve actual dates and deposits.”

Her sense of humor bubbled to the surface. “We don't want to rush into anything. Not after your first experience. Better to have a long engagement and make sure.”

“See? You already have your lines down pat.”

A matching humor lit his face and even crept into his eyes. If she hadn't been sitting, she didn't doubt for a moment that her knees would have given out. He had to be one of the most stunning men she'd ever met. It didn't seem fair to have all of that rugged beauty given to one man. From high, arching cheekbones to squared chin to a mouth perfectly shaped for kissing, it didn't matter where she looked, it was all gorgeous. Even his hair was perfect, the deep brown offset by streaks of sunlit gold. But it was his eyes that fascinated her the most, the color a sharp jade-green that seemed to darken like a shadow-draped forest depending on his mood.

“So how do we handle this?” she finally managed to ask. “Assuming I agree to your plan.”

He frowned, and even that was appealing. “It may not work,” he admitted. “I think we can figure that out easily enough. But you'll have to trust me.”

She took a deep breath and jumped in with both feet. “Okay. What do you have in mind?” she asked.

“A simple test. If we don't pass, we scrap the idea and I'll find you a job within the organization. If it does work, we take the next step forward.”

“What sort of test?” she asked warily.

“Just this.”

He stood and circled the coffee table between them. Reaching her side, he held out his hand. She stood as well and took the hand he offered. Her fingers slipped across his palm. Instantly, heat exploded between them, a stunning flash that seemed to burrow into flesh and bone with unbelievable swiftness. It didn't hurt. Not precisely. It…melded. With a gasp of disbelief, Larkin yanked free of his touch.

“What did you just do?” they asked in unison.

Rafe took a step back and eyed her with sharp suspicion. “You felt that, too?”

“Of course.” She rubbed her palm against her slacks, trying to make the sensation go away. Not that it worked. “What was it?”

“I have no idea.”

She lifted her hand and stared at the palm. There weren't any marks, though based on the explosion of heat she'd experienced, it should still be smoking. “That wasn't…” She cleared her throat. “That couldn't have been…”

She could see the emphatic denial building in his expression. At the last instant he hesitated, an almost calculating glitter dawning in his eyes. “The Inferno?” he murmured. “What the hell. Why not?”

She stared at him, stunned. “You're joking, right?” she asked.

“I don't personally believe in it, no. But I've heard
The Inferno described as something along the lines of what we just felt.”

“That was your test?” she demanded. “To see if we felt The Inferno when we touched?”

“No. Actually, I was going to kiss you.”

She fell back another step, shocked as much by the statement as by the calm businesslike way he delivered it. “Why?”

“There's no point in becoming engaged if you aren't physically attracted to me,” he explained. “My family would pick up on that in no time.”

Larkin gazed down at her hand and scratched her thumbnail across the faint throb centered in the middle of her palm. “So whatever just happened when we touched is just an odd coincidence?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

Huh. She lifted her head and looked at him. Their gazes clashed and the heat centered in her palm spread deeper. Hotter. Swept through her with each beat of her heart. A dangerous curiosity filled her and words tumbled from her mouth, words she'd never planned to speak. But somehow they popped out, hovering in the air between them.

“I believe you were going to kiss me,” she prompted.

He approached in two swift strides. She knew what he planned, could see the intent in the hard lines of his body and determined planes of his face. He gave her ample opportunity to escape. But somehow she couldn't force herself to take the easy way out. Another personality quirk…or flaw, depending on the circumstances. Instead, she held perfectly still and allowed him to pull her into his arms.

This was wrong on so many levels. Wrong because
of Leigh. Wrong because it wasn't real. Wrong because even while she wanted to deny it, desire built within her like a tide building before a storm. Waves of it crashed over and through her until she couldn't think straight and common sense fled. He hadn't even kissed her yet, and already she could feel the helpless give of her surrender.

He leaned in and she waited breathlessly for his kiss, a kiss that didn't come. “It feels real, doesn't it?” The words washed over her like a balmy breeze, stirring the hair at her temples. “Maybe it is real. Maybe this engagement isn't such a bad idea. We can figure out what all this means.”