“Do not be ridiculous” came Primo’s rumbling bass. “This is an office. It is not as though he is in a meeting, not this late. Why should I stand on the doorstep like a beggar?”
“Because he has not invited you in.”
“Then I will invite myself in” was the indignant retort.
With that, he turned the knob and stepped into the room. Rafe must have anticipated his grandfather’s intent because he stepped in front of her, shielding her from his grandparents’ eyes while she finished buttoning her blouse and vest. Not that it really helped, considering that his shirt was open and hanging out of his trousers.
“I have been looking for you, Rafaelo,” Primo announced. “I have someone I wish you to meet.”
Rafe sighed as he finished making repairs to his clothes. “I don’t doubt it. But it’s no longer necessary.”
Primo planted his fists on his waist. “Of course it is necessary. You must meet as many women as possible. How else will you find your Inferno soul mate?”
Larkin peeked out from behind Rafe’s broad shoulders and saw Nonna’s eyes widen with a combination of surprise and dawning comprehension. “And who is this?” she asked.
Snatching a deep breath, Larkin skirted Rafe and stepped into the light, wincing at their stunned expressions. She didn’t doubt for a single moment that she looked as if she’d been doing precisely what she had been doing. Guaranteed her mouth was bare of lipstick and swollen a telltale rosy-red from Rafe’s impassioned kisses. And Rafe didn’t look much better, not when she compared his businesslike appearance earlier to his current rough and rumpled manifestation. And guaranteed one or both of his grandparents had caught that…and more.
Primo’s gaze swept to a point midway down the line of buttons holding her vest closed and his fierce golden eyes narrowed. Either she hadn’t buttoned them correctly or she’d skipped one. Maybe more than one.
Nonna, on the other hand, hovered between shock and amusement at whatever hairstyle Rafe had left in his wake when he’d plowed his fingers through the tidy little knot Larkin had fashioned at the start of her evening. She could feel part of it dangling over her left ear, while stray wisps were plastered to the right side of her face and neck.
“Hello.” She gave them a wide, brilliant smile. “I’m Larkin Thatcher.”
“You are with the catering service?” Primo asked, giving her clothing another assessing look.
“Not any longer. They fired me.”
Apparently they didn’t know what to say to that, so she hurried to breach the silence. She couldn’t help it. It was another minor personality flaw. Leigh had always called it babbling, which was a fair if somewhat blunt assessment.
“It was my own fault. I dropped a tray of drinks and that’s a big no-no. The good news is that if I hadn’t, I wouldn’t have met Rafe and we wouldn’t have gotten to know each other. I don’t think we’ve finished discussing it yet. But we kind of got engaged.”
Three
“Engaged,” Primo and Nonna repeated in unison. Primo sounded outraged, Nonna shocked.
“Sort of.” Larkin shot Rafe an apprehensive glance, as though aware that she’d jumped the gun a bit. “Or maybe not anymore. To be honest, I’m not quite sure what we are because we… Well, to be honest…” Her hands fluttered over her hair and the mismatched buttons of her vest. “That is to say, we got distracted.”
Beside her, Rafe groaned. “Hell.”
Her gaze darted from him back to his grandparents. They didn’t seem pleased with his response. “Actually, it was rather heavenly,” she hastened to reassure them.
Rafe took charge of the situation. “Let’s just say that the minute we touched, things got out of hand. Or in hand, depending on your viewpoint.”
“The Inferno?” Primo demanded. “It has finally happened?”
Rafe hesitated. He couldn’t help the hint of resistance that undoubtedly shadowed his expression. He’d experienced something when he and Larkin had first touched. But The Inferno? A connection that would last a lifetime? Sorry. Still not buying it. “Time will tell,” he limited himself to saying.