“I gather the ring is working? No one’s given you any trouble?”
She stared down at it in open pleasure. “Your family hasn’t given me a moment’s trouble. And they were all so excited to see me wearing it.” Then the sorrow and regret returned. “I hope they won’t be too crushed when our engagement ends.”
Time for the first step of his plan. “There’s no rush to end it,” he remarked in an offhand manner. “In fact, I think it may be necessary to continue the engagement for a while longer. Would that be a problem?”
“I—I’m not sure.”
He didn’t give her a chance to invent a list of excuses. No doubt she’d come up with them, but he had a plan for that, too. Hoping to distract her, he filled their plates with food. Then he opened the wine and poured them each a glass.
They sat in companionable silence, soaking up the August sun while they ate and sipped their wine. It gave him plenty of opportunity to admire the sleek red one-piece she wore and the way it showcased her subtle curves. She was beautifully proportioned. Magnificent legs. A backside with just the perfect amount of curve to it. Narrow hips and an even narrower waist. And her breasts, outlined in the thin Lycra of her swimsuit, were the most delectable he’d ever seen. A dessert he planned to savor at the earliest possible opportunity.
“Tell me something, Larkin.”
“Hmm?”
He gathered up their empty plates, slipped them into a plastic bag and returned them to the basket. “Why were you raised by your grandmother? What happened to your parents?”
The instant his question penetrated, she stilled. It was like watching a wild animal who’d caught the unexpected scent of a predator. She didn’t say anything for a long time, which was so out of character for her that he knew he’d stumbled onto something important. She pulled her legs against her chest and wrapped her arms around them, her grip on the stem of her wineglass so tight it was a wonder it didn’t shatter.
She remained silent for long minutes, staring toward shore where Kiko chased a flutter of butterflies. “Gran raised me because my mother didn’t want me.”
“What?” It was so contrary to his way of thinking, he struggled to process it. “How could someone not want you?”
She buried her nose in her wineglass. “I don’t like to discuss it.”
She didn’t actually use the words with strangers, but she might as well have. If anything, it made him all the more determined to pry it out of her. Hadn’t she done the same for him when it came to his relationship with Leigh, as well as those long-ago events at the lake when Draco had broken his leg? He understood all too well what it felt like to have a poison eating away inside. Larkin had lanced his wound. It was only fair he do the same for her.
“What about your father?”
She shifted. “He wasn’t in the picture.”
“He left your mother?”
To his relief, Larkin allowed the question, even smiled at it. “My mother wasn’t the sort of woman you leave. Not if you’re a typical red-blooded male. No, she left my father to return to her husband.”
He couldn’t hide how appalled he was, couldn’t even keep it from bleeding into his voice. “That’s how you ended up living with your grandmother?”
Larkin nodded. “My mother discovered she was pregnant with me shortly after she returned home. She and her husband already had a daughter, a legitimate one. Naturally, he wasn’t about to have proof of her infidelity hanging around the house, or have my presence contaminating his own daughter. So Mother kept my half sister and turned me over to Gran. She even gave me her maiden name, so her husband wouldn’t have any connection to me. Considering some of the alternatives, it wasn’t such a bad option.”
In other words, her mother had abandoned her. He swore, a word that caused her to flinch in reaction. “And your father? What happened to him?”
She didn’t reply. Instead she lifted a shoulder in an offhand shrug and held her glass out for a refill.
He topped it off. “You don’t know who your father is, do you?”
“Nope,” she confessed. “Barely a clue.”