Sliding her hands along the impressive breadth of his chest, Larkin gripped his shoulders and rose on tiptoe. His mouth hovered just within reach and she didn’t hesitate. She gave him a slow, champagne-sweetened kiss. Their lips mated, fitting together as perfectly as their bodies. It had been this way from the start and she couldn’t help but wonder—if circumstances had been different, would their relationship have developed into a real one?
It was a lovely dream. But that’s all it was. The realization hurt more than she would have believed possible. He started to deepen the kiss, to take it to the next step. If the ring and champagne and engagement had been real, nothing would have stopped her from following him down such a tempting path. But it wasn’t real and she forced herself to pull back.
She wasn’t ready to go there. Not until she came to terms with the temporary nature of their relationship. Rafe might not realize it yet, but the “if” of their lovemaking would be her decision alone. The “when” on her terms.
He released a sigh. “Let me guess. More questions?”
She offered a sympathetic smile. “Afraid so.”
“Get it over with.”
“What in the world did you do when you returned and discovered everyone gone?” she asked, genuinely curious.
“I sat and waited for a couple of hours. After a while I got hungry, but the summerhouse was all locked up. So I decided maybe I was being punished for running off instead of staying where I’d been told and my punishment was to find my own way home.”
Larkin’s mouth dropped open. “Oh, my God. You didn’t—”
“Hitchhike? Sure did.”
“Do you have any idea how dangerous that was?” She broke off and shook her head. “Of course you do. Now.”
“It all seemed very simple and logical to me. I just needed to get from the lake to San Francisco. The hardest part was walking to the freeway. And finding food.”
Larkin couldn’t seem to wrap her head around the story. “How? Where?”
“I came across a campsite. No one was there.” He shrugged. “Probably out hiking, so I helped myself to some of their food and water.”
She stared in disbelief. “You made it home, didn’t you?”
“It took three days, but yes. I made it home on my own. Walked some. Snuck onto a bus at one point. The toughest part was coming up with acceptable excuses for why I was out on my own—excuses that wouldn’t have the people who helped me calling the authorities.”
“Your parents must have been frantic.”
He crossed to the table and poured himself a second glass of champagne, topping hers off in the process. “To put it mildly.”
“And ever since then?”
He studied her over the rim of the crystal flute. “Ever since then…what?”
She narrowed her eyes in contemplation. “Ever since then, you’ve been fiercely independent, determined not to depend on anyone other than yourself.”
He shrugged. “It didn’t change anything. I’ve always been the independent sort.”
“Seriously, Rafe. You must have been terrified when you discovered you’d been left behind.”
“Maybe a little.”
“And hurt. Terribly hurt that the family you loved and trusted just up and deserted you.”
“I got over it.” Ice slipped into his voice. “Besides, they didn’t desert me.”
“But you thought they did,” she persisted. “It explains a lot, you know.”
“I don’t like being psychoanalyzed.”
“Neither do I. But at least now I understand why you hold people at an emotional distance and why you’re so determined to control your world.” It must have been sheer hell being married to someone like Leigh, who was a master at manipulating emotions and equally determined to be the one in control. “Did you ever tell your wife about the incident?”
“Leigh wasn’t interested in the past. She pretty much lived in the now and planned for the future. Even if I had mentioned it to her, I doubt it would have made any difference.”
True enough. “It makes a difference to me,” Larkin murmured.