Dante's Temporary Fiancée Read online

  He counted it, nodded, then jerked his head toward the stairwell. “You have ten minutes to clear out.”

  Larkin stiffened. “Mr. Connell, I promise to pay on time from now on. I’ve always—”

  For a split second his sternness faded. “It’s not that and you know it.” Then he seemed to catch himself, retreating behind a tough shell that years of management had hardened into rocklike obduracy. “You know the rules about pets. In ten minutes I’m calling animal control. And somehow I suspect they’ll have questions about your…dog.”

  She paled. “No problem, Mr. Connell. We’ll leave immediately.”

  Again Rafe gained the impression that the apartment manager would have bent the rules for Larkin if it were at all possible. “San Francisco is no place to keep her, Ms. Thatcher. She needs more room.”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Rafe cleared his throat. “Perhaps a little extra rent will help clear this up. Would you consider a generous pet deposit in case of damages?” he asked.

  Connell caught the underlying meaning and shot him a man-to-man look of understanding. Then he shook his head. “It isn’t about the money. And it isn’t about the late rent. Ms. Thatcher is as honest as the day is long.” He broke off with a grimace. “At least, she is when it comes to paying her debts. The animal, on the other hand—”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” Larkin cut in. “It was the only way to save her.”

  The landlord wouldn’t be budged. “You’ll have to save her elsewhere.”

  “I don’t suppose you could give me until the morning?”

  She hadn’t even finished the question before he was shaking his head again. “I’m sorry. If it were just me, sure. But others are aware of the situation, and I could lose my job if the owners found out I hadn’t acted immediately once I knew about the animal.”

  “I understand.” Rafe wasn’t the least surprised at Larkin’s instant capitulation. She had to possess one of the softest hearts he’d ever known. “I wouldn’t want you to lose your job. It’ll just take me a minute to pack.”

  Rafe blew out a sigh. He was going to regret this, mainly because it would make keeping his promise to Primo almost impossible. “I know a place you can stay,” he offered.

  Hope turned her eyes to an incandescent shade of blue. “Kiko, too?”

  “Is that your dog’s name?”

  “Tukiko, but I call her Kiko.”

  “Yes, you can bring Kiko. The landlord won’t object. Plus, he has a huge backyard that’s dogproof.”

  “Really?” She struggled to blink back tears. “Thank you so much.”

  She turned to Connell and surprised him with a swift hug, one he accepted with an awkward pat on her back. Then she led the way upstairs. Rafe glanced around. The complex appeared shabby at best, with an underlying hint of desperation and decay. He suspected that it wasn’t so much that the manager was lazy or didn’t care, but that he fought a losing battle with limited funds and expensive repairs.

  They climbed to the third floor and down a warren of hallways to a door painted an indeterminate shade of mold-green. Larkin fished her key out of her purse and unlocked the door to a tiny single-room apartment.

  “Hey, Kiko,” she called softly. “I’m home. And I brought a friend, so don’t be afraid.”

  Rafe peered into the gloomy interior. “I gather she doesn’t like strangers?”

  “She has reason not to.”

  “Abused?”

  “That…and more.”

  Rafe didn’t so much hear the dog’s approach, as sense it. A prickle of awareness lifted the hairs on the back of his neck. And then he caught the glint of gold as the dog’s eyes reflected the light filtering in from the hallway. A low growl rumbled from the shadows.

  “Kiko, stand down,” Larkin said in a calm, strong voice. Instantly the dog limped forward and crouched at her feet, resting her muzzle on her front paws.

  Rafe groped for a light switch, found it and flicked it on. Son of a— This was not good. Not good at all. “What sort of dog is she?” he asked in as neutral a voice as he could manage.

  “Siberian husky.” Larkin made the statement in a firm, assured voice.

  “And?”

  “A touch of Alaskan malamute.”

  “And?” He eyed the animal, certain that at least one of its parents howled rather than barked, ran in a pack and mated for life.

  Larkin wrapped her arms around her waist, her chin jutting out an inch. “That’s it.” Firm assurance had turned to fierce protectiveness overlaid with blatant lying.

  “Damn it, Larkin, that’s not all she is and you know it.” He studied Kiko with as much wariness and she studied him. “Where the hell did you find her?”

  “My grandmother rescued Kiko from a trap when she was a juvenile. But the trap had broken her leg. Gran even managed to save the leg, though it left Kiko with a permanent limp and, despite all the love and care lavished on her, it made her permanently wary of people. But she’s old now. When Gran was dying, she asked me to take care of Kiko. Since Gran raised me, I wasn’t about to refuse. End of discussion.”

  Compassion shifted across his expression. “How long ago did your grandmother die?”

  “Nine months. And she was ill for about a year before that. It’s been a bit of a struggle since then to keep a job while honoring my grandmother’s dying wish,” she found herself admitting. It had her stiffening her spine, pride riding heavy on her weary shoulders. “I’ve had to move around. A lot. And take on whatever jobs have come my way. But we’re managing. That doesn’t mean I don’t have goals I hope to accomplish. I do. For instance, I’d love to work for a rescue organization that specializes in helping animals like Kiko. I just need to take care of something first.”

  “Finding your mystery man.”

  “Yes.”

  “Larkin—”

  She cut him off. “We don’t have time for this, Rafe. Mr. Connell gave me ten minutes and we’ve wasted at least half that already. I still need to pack.”

  He let it go. For now. “Where’s your suitcase?”

  “In the closet.”

  Instead of a suitcase, he found a large battered backpack and damn little else. It took all of two minutes to scoop her clothing out of the closet, as well as the warped drawers of an ancient dresser. Larkin emerged from the bathroom with her toiletries and dumped them into a small zipped section.

  “What about the kitchen?” He used the term loosely, since it consisted of a minifridge, a single cupboard containing dishware for two and a hot plate.

  “It came with the apartment. It’ll just take me a minute to gather up Kiko’s stuff and empty out the refrigerator.”

  She attempted to block his view of the contents, but it was difficult to conceal nearly empty shelves, especially when it took her only a single trip to the trash can to dispose of what little it contained. After she fed Kiko a combination of kibble and raw beef, she bagged up the trash and put a leash on the animal. Rafe picked up her bag. He felt a vague sense of shock that all her worldly possessions fit in a single backpack. Hell, half a backpack, since the other half contained supplies for her dog. He couldn’t have fit even a tenth of what he owned in so small a space.

  “You ready?” he asked.

  Larkin snatched a deep breath and gave the apartment a final check before offering a resolute nod. After that it was a simple matter to lock up the apartment, turn in the keys to Mr. Connell, dispose of the trash and exit the building. Once there, Larkin gave Kiko a few minutes to stretch her legs. Then Rafe installed the dog in the back of his car, along with the bulging backpack, while Larkin returned to her seat in the front.

  “So where are we going?” she asked as he pulled away from the curb.

  “My place.”

  She took a second to digest that. “I thought you said you knew of a place Kiko and I could stay,” she said in a tight voice.

  “Right. My place.”

  “But…”

  He
shot her a quick, hard look. “If it were just you, I could make any number of arrangements, even with it pushing midnight. But your dog—and I use the term loosely—is a deal breaker. There isn’t a hotel or motel in the city that would allow Kiko through their doors. And I suspect the first place you tried would have the police coming at a dead run. Is that what you want?”

  She sagged. “No,” she whispered.

  “Then our options are somewhat limited. As in, I can think of one option.”

  “Your place.”

  “My place,” he confirmed.

  Traffic was light and he pulled into his driveway a short twenty minutes later. He parked the car in the detached garage and led the way along a covered walkway to the back entrance. He entered the kitchen through a small utility room.

  Larkin hovered on the doorstep. “Is it all right if Kiko comes in?”

  “Of course. I told you she was welcome.”

  “Thanks.”

  The two walked side by side into the room and Rafe got his first good look at Kiko beneath the merciless blaze of the overhead lights. The “dog” was a beautiful animal, long and leggy, with a heavy gray-and-white coat, pronounced snout and a thick tail that showed a hint of curl to it—no doubt from the husky or malamute side of her family. Her golden gaze seemed to take in everything around her with a weariness that crept under his skin and into his heart. He suspected that she’d have given up and surrendered to her fate, if not for her human companion.

  Larkin stood at her side, dwarfed by the large animal, her fingers buried in the thick ruff at Kiko’s neck. She fixed Rafe with a wary gaze identical to her dog’s. “Now what?”

  “What does Kiko need to be comfortable?”

  “Peace and quiet and space. If she feels trapped, she’ll chew through just about anything.”

  He winced, thinking about some of the original molding and trim work in his century-old home. “I didn’t notice any damage to your apartment. I wouldn’t exactly call that spacious.”

  “She regarded that as her de—” Larkin broke off with a cough. “Her retreat.”

  “Right. Tell me something, Larkin. How the hell did you smuggle her into your apartment in the first place?”

  “Carefully and in the wee hours of the morning.”

  “I’m sure. And no one noticed her when you took her out for a walk? They never complained about her barking or howling?”

  “Again, we made as many trips as possible while it was still dark. But I guess she did make noise, since we’ve now been kicked out.” She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Kiko isn’t crazy about the city, and I wasn’t planning to stay long. Just until I finished my search. Then we were going to move someplace less crowded.”

  “Good plan. You do realize that if anyone catches you with her she’ll most likely be put down.”

  “I have papers for her.”

  He lifted an eyebrow and waited. “You do remember that you’re a lousy liar, don’t you?”

  For the first time a hint of amusement flickered in her gaze. “I’m working on that.”

  An image of his late wife flashed through his head. “Please don’t. I like you much better the way you are.” He gestured toward the refrigerator. “Are you hungry?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “What about Kiko?”

  “She’s good until morning.”

  “Come on, then. There’s a bedroom you can use on this level with doors that open to the backyard.”

  “It’s fenced?”

  “High and deep. My cousin Nicolò has a St. Bernard who’s something of an escape artist. Brutus has personally certified my fence to be escapeproof.”

  A swift smile came and went. “We’ll see if Kiko concurs.”

  He could see the exhaustion lining her face, her fine-boned features pale and taut. He didn’t waste any further time in conversation. Turning, he led the way toward the back of the house, throwing open the door to a suite of rooms that was at least three times the size of her apartment. She seemed to stumble slightly as she entered the room, favoring her left leg.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Oh, this?” She rubbed her thigh. “I broke my leg when I was a kid. It only bothers me when I get too tired.”

  “My brother Draco has a similar problem.”

  “I feel for him,” she said, then turned in a slow circle. “Wow,” she murmured. “This place is amazing.”

  “Nothing too good for my fiancée.”

  She spared him a swift, searching glance, but didn’t argue. “Thank you, Rafe,” she said.

  He couldn’t resist. He approached and tipped her face to his. From the doorway he caught a soft, warning rumble, one silenced by a swift gesture from Larkin.

  “It’ll take Kiko a while to realize you’re safe,” she explained.

  His thumbs swept across the pale hollow beneath her cheekbones to pause just shy of the edges of her mouth. “Somehow I think it’ll take you a while, too.”

  “You could be right.”

  He leaned down and captured her lips in a gentle caress. She moaned, the sound a mere whisper. But it conveyed so much. Hunger. Passion. Pleasure. And maybe a hint of regret. More than anything he wanted to pull her into his embrace and lose himself in her softness. She swayed against him, and it took a split second to realize her surrender came from exhaustion rather than desire.

  Reluctantly he pulled back. “Wrong time, wrong place,” he murmured.

  She sighed. “The story of my life.”

  He rested his forehead against the top of her head. “I also promised Primo that I wouldn’t unbutton you any more tonight.”

  “I believe he meant from now on, not just tonight,” she informed him gravely. “And I also believe you agreed to honor that promise.”

  He released her and took a step back, allowing them both some breathing space. “Actually, what I promised was that I wouldn’t unbutton you again until I put a ring on your finger.” He flashed her a suggestive grin. “Come Monday, I plan to have that ring right where I need it to be. Then prepare yourself to be thoroughly unbuttoned.”

  Four

  Larkin awoke to someone knocking on her door. Kicking off her covers, she stumbled to her feet and blinked blearily around. What in the world? This wasn’t her shabby little apartment, but something far more sumptuous and elegant. Something a world away from her realm of experience.

  Memory crashed down around her. Getting fired. Rafe’s proposal. Their shocking first touch. Their even more shocking kiss. His proposition. Her losing her apartment. And finally, her arrival here with Kiko. The knock came again and she jumped.

  “Just a minute,” she called.

  She yanked open her bedroom door, only to discover that the knocking came from farther away. She stumbled in that direction, realizing there was someone at Rafe’s front door. A very determined someone. She hovered in the foyer, debating whether or not to answer. Better not to, she decided, considering it wasn’t her house. Unfortunately, the unexpected guest had a key and chose that moment to use it.

  The door swung open and a woman poked her head inside. “Rafe?” She caught sight of Larkin and her eyes widened. “Oh. Oh, dear. I’m so sorry. Nonna said—”

  “What is wrong, Elia?”

  Larkin recognized Nonna’s voice and shut her eyes. This could not be good.

  “We’ve come at an inconvenient time,” Elia turned to explain. “Rafe has a guest.”

  Nonna replied in Italian, the sound knife-edge sharp. Then the door banged open and Nonna marched into the house. “Larkin? I am surprised to find you here.”

  “I’m surprised to find me here, too,” Larkin admitted. “In fact, I’m surprised to find us both here.”

  “What the hell is going on? Can’t a man get a decent night’s sleep?” Rafe’s voice issued from on high and he appeared at the top of the staircase leading to the second story. “Mamma? Nonna? What are you doing here?”

  He stood there, hands planted on his hips, his
chest bare, a loose pair of sweats riding low on his hips. Larkin stared, dazzled. Despite his obvious annoyance, she’d never seen anything more gorgeous.

  “Oh, my.”

  The comment escaped, along with her breath, her common sense and every last brain cell she possessed. To her utter humiliation, his mother took note, suppressing a smile of amusement at her reaction.

  But really… His body was an absolute work of art, sculpted with hard muscle that filled out his lean frame. His shoulders were broad, with strong, ropey arms, though she’d suspected as much when he’d lifted her in them last night and carried her to the couch in his office. His abdomen was flat and sporting the type of six-pack that she would have been only too happy to spend an entire night sampling. His mane of hair fell in rumpled abandon, the colors a lush mixture of browns and golds.

  “We came over to arrange a time to meet Larkin,” Elia explained. Her smile wavered. “Surprise! We met.”

  Rafe thrust his hands through his hair and Larkin suspected by the way his lips moved that he was swearing beneath his breath. “Let me get dressed and I’ll be down.” His gaze sharpened, arrowing in on Larkin. “May I suggest you do likewise?”

  “Oh, right.” She glanced down at her own shorts and cropped T-shirt with something akin to horror before offering Rafe’s mother and grandmother a weak, embarrassed smile. “Excuse me, please.”

  She dashed in the direction of her bedroom and closeted herself inside. Kiko stared at her alertly from where she lay in one corner, curled up on a thick, cozy rug. “What do you say we try out the backyard again and see what you think about it in the daylight,” Larkin suggested.

  She opened the French doors leading outside and watched while Kiko limped into the yard. She kept an eye on the dog for several minutes to assure herself that the fence would withstand all escape attempts before taking a swift shower and throwing on the first set of clean clothes to come to hand. The fact that a night spent in a backpack had pressed a thousand wrinkles into them couldn’t be helped.

  Calling to Kiko, Larkin headed in the direction of the coffee scenting the air. She found Rafe and the women in a low, heated conversation. Since it was in Italian, she could only guess what they were saying. Nonna appeared to be offering the strongest opinion, and Larkin could make a fairly accurate guess what that opinion might be. They broke off at the sight of her and smiled in a friendly manner, though Larkin picked up on the tension that underscored their greeting.