Taming the Lone Wolff

Seventeen



Larkin stood atop a wobbly ladder, winding little white lights around the central tent pole. His stomach pitched when Annalise, below him, accidentally bumped his perch. Heights made him queasy, and he was anxious to get this job done. It hadn’t escaped his notice that Winnie and his brother were getting very chummy.

When he clambered back down to terra firma, Annalise beamed at him. “Thanks, bro.”

His baby sister was happy all the time these days. And her sharp-edged tongue had mellowed considerably. It was a disconcerting, but enjoyable change. “You might want to rein in our sibling,” he said. “He seems to be flirting with Winnie.”

“Jealous much?” Annalise snorted. “If Gillian isn’t concerned, why should I be?”

“Forget I mentioned it,” he said grumpily. “Give me another string of lights and help me move this ladder.”

* * *

By dinnertime Larkin was like a cat on hot bricks. The day had turned into one long pre-celebration. The entire family converged at the main house after the decorating, and didn’t leave. The children were included at tonight’s meal. Which meant that adult conversation was limited in favor of laughing at the antics of a toddler and an infant.

Little Cammie took her role as older cousin very seriously, and jumped up time and again to retrieve baby spoons, pick up toys and rescue Cheerios before they were ground into the priceless Oriental rug that ran the length and width of the dining room.

Larkin bantered back and forth with his relatives, all the while keeping a covert eye on Winnie. She was holding her own. The semi-organized insanity of a Wolff family meal was not for the faint of heart. But Winnie’s shyness had melted away amid the unselfconscious joie de vivre of the evening’s reunion.

As he surveyed the room, Larkin marveled inwardly at how far they had come as a family. Tragedy had brought them to this place, but love and acceptance kept them here.

He touched Winnie’s knee beneath the Irish linen tablecloth, leaning over to be heard as he whispered in her ear. “Not exactly dinner at a five-star restaurant, is it?”

She smiled at him. “I adore your family,” she said. “I stand by what I said earlier. You’re a very lucky man.”

“They like you.” He wanted to say more than that, but he was still processing the words and feelings in his head.

“I like them, too. I’m so glad you brought me to the mountain.” She was wearing another dress that made him sweat. Tonight’s meal was more casual, and Winnie had chosen her wardrobe accordingly. But the cheerful halter-necked sundress in black-and-white check with appliquéd daisies left a lot of bare skin on display.

He draped an arm across the back of her chair, running his fingers lightly over the nape of her neck. “Are you wearing anything under that outfit?”

She lowered her voice, her attention ostensibly still on the table at large. “Why don’t you find out?”

Her teasing question made him choke. He took a sip of wine, wiped his mouth with his napkin and moved his fingers three inches up her thigh. Winnie’s virtually inaudible whimper hardened his sex instantly.

He’d had some bad ideas in his life, but this one ranked right up there at the top. Even so, to remove his hand from her smooth, bare leg was impossible. Winnie was seated to his left, so he was able to use his right hand to maintain the fiction of eating. Any interest he’d had in food had evaporated long ago.

Gradually, making sure no one could see, he inched his hand upward. A flush broke out on Winnie’s fair cheeks, but she didn’t react otherwise. He found the lacy edge of her panties and grinned, barely moving his lips as he leaned his head toward hers and mouthed in her ear. “I knew it. You’re such a good little girl. No going commando for you.”

Victor Wolff, seated in his usual spot at the head of the table, eyed them with a gimlet stare. “Enough of that, Larkin Wolff. Behave yourself. Quit whispering sweet nothings in Winnie’s ear.”

Larkin straightened abruptly and put both his hands on the table. He felt his own neck heat. For a moment there, he’d thought the old man had X-ray vision.

Winnie was visibly amused at his mortification. “Busted,” she murmured as she leaned down to pick up the napkin that Larkin’s antics had dislodged.

Larkin wiped a hand over his damp forehead. He couldn’t take much more of this. When he glanced at his watch, he saw that it was almost eight-thirty. Dessert was just being served…pound cake with imported strawberries and fresh cream. His favorite.

He shoved his chair from the table and stood up. The big group was so rowdy, he had to shout twice. “Hey. Hey, you crazy people.”

Finally, all heads turned in his direction. He cleared his throat. “Winnie and I have really enjoyed hanging out with everyone today, but I promised her a walk to Wolff Point tonight.”

Winnie looked up at him. “But we—”

He kicked her foot. “So if you’ll excuse us, we’ll say good-night and see everyone in the morning.”

The chorus of goodbyes and teasing innuendos was never-ending. By the time he got Winnie out into the hallway, he was breathing hard.

She tugged on his arm. “What was that all about? You took me to Wolff Point last night. Are we going again?”

In the front hallway, he caught a glimpse of his face in the ornate mirror over the console table. His eyes glittered with feverish intent. Staring down at the woman who had turned his world upside down, he shook his head, reeling from the revelations that came thick and fast.

“No,” he said, his voice blunt and harsh. “I’m going to make love to you.” God help him. And in thirty-six hours he was going to walk away. If he had the strength. Bringing her here had been a mistake. Because he’d now had a vision of how his life could be, but the consequences were unthinkable. If he gave in to the lure of Winnie’s pure, sweet tenderness, he’d be committed. Forever. Imagining that responsibility scared him to the point of nausea. He couldn’t love her and fail her. Love her and lose her. He’d rather endure the prospect of a sterile life alone, insulated from pain.

He knew love and he knew loss. His way was better. His way was the only choice.

* * *

Winnie trailed in his wake, propelled by his urgency. Despite the enjoyable family dinner, she was as eager to be alone, just the two of them, as Larkin seemed to be. He didn’t waste time asking questions about location. Edging open her door with his hip, he dragged her inside.

Finally—a lock between them and the outside world—he paused to catch his breath. The hands he ran up and down her arms held a slight tremor. “You were wrong,” he muttered.

“About what?”

Larkin untied the small bow at the back of her neck and pulled the bodice of the dress to her waist. “God, you’re gorgeous.”

When he bent his head and took one of her nipples between his teeth, pleasure sparked through her veins and her knees wobbled. He caught her up against him with one strong arm across her back, kissing her wildly. She sensed a change in him, an urgency that went beyond mere passion.

Breaking free for a moment, she smoothed a hand over his cheek. “Wrong about what?”

“Marital bliss. Turns out it is contagious.” His eyes were dark, his expression more so.

“You’re not making sense,” she said, waiting impatiently for him to finish removing her dress.

When she was down to nothing but her French-cut panties, he stopped and stared. “We have to talk.”

Her nipples peaked, aching and hot. “About what?” The ferocity of his molten azure gaze might as well have been a physical caress. The tactile examination ran from her face to her belly and below. She shifted nervously from one foot to the other. Between her legs, her sex dampened, swelled, readied for him.

“I’m confused, but everything is getting clearer.”

Nothing he said made sense. But she understood without words what he wanted. And the erection tenting the front of his slacks reinforced her conclusion.

“One of us is lagging behind.” She was getting better at undressing him, but her fingers fumbled with the buttons at the cuffs of his dress shirt. He finally helped her and removed the rest of his clothing in an impatient one-footed dance.

Winnie clasped her hands between her breasts, trying to keep her heart from punching through her chest. Larkin was the gorgeous one.

He took her hand. “Do you trust me, Winnie? To always tell you the truth?”

“I do.” The sound of the vow made her wince inwardly, but Larkin didn’t seem to notice.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed. “I can’t wait, baby. I’m sorry. We’ll take the edge off and start all over again.” Not bothering to peel back the sumptuous covers, he deposited her on the mattress and came down beside her, pausing only to take care of protection. As he moved between her legs, she arched into his thrust, groaning as he filled her completely. The sense of connection, of utter rightness, stole her breath.

His skin was damp against hers, the muscles in his arms cording as he held his weight on his hands. Moving his hips first lazily, then with more force, he took her further and faster than before. She wanted to savor the moment. To tuck it away and remember it in the days ahead when he would no longer be part of her everyday life.

But there was no time for reflection, no opportunity for even a fleeting rational thought. Larkin had learned what pleased her, and he used the knowledge to advantage. Again and again he drove her to the edge, taking her close, but never letting her fall.

It was agony and perfection. Torture and bliss.

His eyes were closed now, unwittingly shutting her out. With his skin drawn tightly across sharp cheekbones, he breathed harshly, raggedly. He was completely in control, his strength and power present in every thrust.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, driving him deeper still. And then it was upon them…without warning…a spine-numbing, breath-stealing surge of release that left her with no recourse but to grip his slick, powerful shoulders and hold on until the end.

* * *

Larkin was sleeping. And no wonder. The second time he’d taken her, the devil of a man had drawn out the wanting, the claiming, the exquisite joining. He’d moved inside her for what seemed like hours, his hands and lips coaxing her once again to a heated pitch of wanting that made her lose all sense of reason.

Now she lay on her side facing him. She had gone to the bathroom, used the facilities and washed up. He never stirred.

Lightly brushing the hair on his arm, she tried to analyze his words. You were wrong. Marital bliss is contagious. We need to talk.

A less pragmatic woman might coax herself into believing that Larkin Wolff was leading up to a proposal. But Winifred Bellamy was smarter than that. Throat tight, she glanced at the clock. It was still early…not quite midnight. She wasn’t sleepy. Her head buzzed with unformed thoughts, amorphous daydreams.

She would make Larkin Wolff a good wife. If he wanted one. But that idea was so dangerous, she locked it away rapidly, reaching for her usual steady footing. Life was good. She was blessed in many ways. She didn’t need a man to be complete.

Suddenly, her cell phone on the nightstand buzzed. She had it set to vibrate, but even so, it was loud. Sliding from beneath the covers, she grabbed it up and answered it in a low voice. “Hello…”

* * *

Larkin jerked awake, every sense on high alert. A sharp sound had dragged him out of a deep sleep. Groggy, he glanced around, identified his surroundings as Winnie’s bedroom and sat up. Immediately, he knew what had awakened him. Because it happened a second time. A keening, stricken cry that brought the hair on his arms to attention.

He bounded out of bed, not even taking time to turn on the light, and crouched beside her. She was huddled on her knees in the midst of the carpeted floor, arms wrapped around her waist. Tears streamed down her face as she rocked back and forth.

“Lord, honey. What’s wrong?” He had never seen his strong, unbreakable Winnie like this, and the change shocked him. Gathering her into his arms, he sat cross-legged with her in his lap, cuddling her, stroking her back, smoothing his hand over her hair. “Tell me, Winnie.”

He had a long wait. She seemed unable to stem the outpouring of grief, and his mind raced with possibilities, each one worse than the last.

Her skin was icy, even with his arms wrapped around her.

When she finally spoke, he could barely understand her. Her teeth chattered, and her words were choppy. “Esteban’s father killed his mother and grandmother.”

Larkin reeled, his stomach pitching with nausea. “Dear God. Are you sure? Don’t answer that. Of course you’re sure. Dear God.” His mouth dried as horror congealed everything inside him that had life and breath. “I promised him that he and his mother would be safe. That he didn’t have to be afraid.” Leland Security. What an ass he was, thinking he could protect people. What an unmitigated ass. He couldn’t keep anyone safe.

Winnie burrowed her face into his chest, making her speech even further garbled. “Not your fault. She left the property. He killed her first and then himself.” Fresh sobs shook her small frame.

Larkin gathered her up and put her back to bed. He retrieved a wet washcloth from the bathroom and wiped her face gently. She lay on her back, staring dully at the canopy atop the bed. The lovely room was not a fit setting for such raw, unimaginable news.

He felt the old feelings of failure claw at his chest, and had he not been a man, he might have joined Winnie in her cathartic tears. Seeing her pain and being unable to do anything about it destroyed him. “How did she get out?”

Winnie turned her head to stare at him. Light streamed from the bathroom, illuminating the bed. She was pale, too pale, and every freckle stood out in relief against her colorless skin. “The mothers and children aren’t prisoners,” she said huskily. “We have nothing or no one to tell them they can’t leave. They are given extensive counseling and cautioned again and again never to meet alone with an abusive husband or boyfriend. But they want so badly to believe a man can change, their man in particular, that they’ll sometimes do anything he asks.”

He tried to wrap his brain around the story she was telling. But he felt sick and guilty. “How did he find her?”

Winnie slung an arm over her face, covering her eyes. “He broke out of jail. Tortured the grandmother until she gave him a cell number. After killing the grandmother, he called Esteban’s mom. Begged for forgiveness. Asked to talk, just talk. She told him where to meet her…thank God, not at the actual address. Then she left my property and walked two miles down the road. A car pulled up. He got out. Gunned her down. Put the gun in his mouth. There were witnesses.”

Winnie rolled to her belly as a fresh wave of sobs threatened to tear her in half. Larkin sat like stone, his mind barely functioning as he remembered Esteban’s oddly adult eyes but unquenchable cheer.

Suddenly Larkin was back in his childhood. He heard Devlyn cry out once. It was never more than once. She would take him by surprise and get that one shout of pain. After that, silence. Larkin huddled in a closet, Annalise in his arms. Her young voice was high-pitched, too loud. Hush, sis. We don’t have to stay here long. Let me braid your hair. Lean on me and fall asleep….

“I have to go.”

He snapped back to the present at the sound of Winnie’s voice, his senses befuddled. “Go where?”

“Home.” She climbed out of bed and started dressing. “Esteban is asking for me. They were going to take him into protective custody, but he begged to stay at the safe house. He has a support system there, so they allowed it. For the moment.”

He rolled to the edge of the mattress and stood up, struggling for composure. Winnie had weathered the storm and was visibly pulling herself together with a strength of will Larkin admired deeply. “We’ll take the jet,” he said gruffly. “Once you’re ready, we can be at the airstrip in forty-five minutes.”

Winnie whirled to look at him. Her hair was a mess. Dark smudges underscored her eyes. “You are not going,” she said flatly. “Your family needs you here today. They deserve that.”

Fury rushed over him with the heat of a thousand suns. “And what do you deserve, Winnie? You hired me to keep your little enclave safe.”

“And you did. Admirably. But one of my women broke the rules and paid for it with her life. Any way you slice it, it’s not your battle.”

“This isn’t up for discussion.” He reached around her and turned on the lamp. He was still nude, but he didn’t care.

Winnie glared at him. “Your entire family, every one of them, is gathered here to celebrate your brother-in-law’s birthday. It would be unforgivable of you to disappoint them.”

His fists clenched to keep from pulling her into his arms. “You need someone, Winnie. Someone to stand beside you during all of this.”

She froze, her arms holding a stack of clothes to be tucked into her suitcase. “Don’t say that. This is my problem, my responsibility. I can handle it.”

“I know you can handle it, damn it. But you’re not going to. We’re in this together.”

“No, I…” Her chin wobbled. She didn’t have it in her to fight him. No reserves left at all. Which, he surmised, was the only reason he won the argument.

“Finish getting ready. I’ll call the pilot and get dressed. I’ll be back in less than ten minutes.”

* * *

They left the house in silence, and silence reigned for the entire trip from Wolff Castle to the airstrip. Larkin drove. It meant he had to keep his attention on the road. He wanted badly to comfort Winnie in the only way he knew how, but this was neither the time nor the place for what he had in mind.

On the jet, he thought she would immediately fall asleep. Instead, she kicked off her shoes and tucked her legs beneath her, choosing a seat opposite his. They were served a small snack during preflight checks and taxiing. Once they were airborne, Larkin requested pillows and blankets from the attendant and then asked not to be disturbed.

Winnie was a broken flower stem, her head drooping with fatigue. He didn’t know what to say to her. Even now, his wanting to help was not enough. It never had been.

She stared at him, her gold-and-green eyes hazed with grief. “I don’t think you should be here. But I’m selfish enough to be glad you are.”

His hands clenched the armrests. “I wouldn’t be anywhere else. My sister and all the rest of them will understand.”

“I hope so. You’ve been more than good to me, Larkin. Don’t ever think differently. And though you don’t realize it, you’ve brought me out of a long, deep freeze. You asked me why I do what I do. I think you deserve to know.”

Shock immobilized him for the tick of several seconds. Then he pulled up the two armrests and beckoned her. “Come sit with me, Winnie. You’re too far away.”

She did as he asked. In moments her head was in his lap, the rest of her curled like a child in the cramped length of the two extra seats. He stroked her hair, torn between wanting her to rest and the need to hear the secret she had been unable or unwilling to share before now.

So he waited.

When he put his right arm around her waist, she linked her fingers with his. “It happened when my parents died,” she said, her words drowsy and slow. “Our family lawyer was a man in his early forties. He was so kind to me, so helpful after the tsunami. There were arrangements to be made, decisions to wade through. I wanted to jump on a plane and go there. He convinced me that it would be best to stay home. After photos and videos began to pour in, I knew he was right.”

“But you said the bodies were recovered?”

“Eventually. I had known the lawyer for years as Mr. Parker. He now insisted I call him Mike. And during the funerals, everything…he was right there, holding my hand…literally. I don’t know what I would have done without him.”

Larkin’s left hand fisted at his side. This wasn’t going to be good. “And afterward?”

“He came around a lot. Sometimes even spent the night, always with an excuse about it being too late to drive back into town. I didn’t think a thing about it.”

“But something changed.” Hearing her recitation was tearing him asunder, because he had a fair guess as to what was coming.

“Yes,” she said. “Something changed. One night after dinner, after the housekeeper left, Mike sat down with me in the living room. Told me he wanted to talk about my future. I told him what I was thinking. That I wanted to travel a bit…perhaps get an advanced degree. Then he…”

“Then he what?”

“I had been crying. About my parents. So he kissed me. At first I thought he was just being nice. Trying to make me feel better. But he put his hand on my breast.”

“Goddamn it to hell.” Even forewarned, Larkin wasn’t able to mask his reaction.

Winnie’s whole body tensed beneath his hand. His instinctive outburst had upset her. He clenched his jaw, his breathing shallow.

“I’m sorry, love.” He touched her cheek. “Go on.” If he had to bite off his own tongue, he would listen impassively.

“I didn’t know what to do. It made me uneasy. He was younger than my father, but still old enough to be my parent. It was weird.”

“Did you ask him to stop?”

“I was confused and upset. Maybe I was overreacting. I knew absolutely zero about boys and even less about men. He—”

She stopped short, and Larkin saw that she was blushing, this time not from any kind of sexual pleasure…but from shame. He sat in silence, his heart in shreds, refusing to react so she could finish. But if he’d had his way, the man would be neutered by now.

He squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Winnie. You don’t have to go through all the details.”

She nodded against his leg. “Well, anyway, that went on for a long time—the touching, I mean—and then he undressed me. I know it makes me sound like the worst kind of ignorant fool, but I didn’t realize what was going to happen. He had taken care of my every need for weeks. It was hard to believe that he would hurt me.”

“But he did.”

Another nod. “He took my virginity against my will. By the time I put up a serious protest, I couldn’t make him stop. It wasn’t particularly violent, just painful and terrifying.”

Larkin shuddered, tears of fury in his eyes. He wiped them with the back of his hand. “I am so sorry.” He could barely get out the words. The unimaginable horror of what she wasn’t saying tormented him. And his brain filled in the rest.

When he thought he could speak calmly, he touched her eyelids, her nose, her soft, perfect lips. “Then what happened?”

“He went home. Said he would be back in the morning to talk. I found out later that he had a wife and kids waiting for him. I went upstairs and cried myself to sleep. I thought about calling the police, but I knew instinctively that he would deny anything had happened, or that he would spin the story and make me the supplicant. So I rested. And I waited.”

“And in the morning?”

“He came back with legal papers. Told me that it would be in my best interests to let him control my money. That it was clear I was too young to make informed decisions. And that since we were now lovers, he would look out for me.”

“What did you say?”

Winnie sat up, shoving her hair from her face with two hands. A tiny poignant smile brought back a fleeting hint of sunshine to her face. “I said no. He couldn’t believe it. I accused him of raping me. Even in the state I was in, I had enough sense not to let him rationalize what had happened. I was in shock, I know. Too muddled to realize that I should have called the authorities even knowing it would be my word against his. But I told him to leave and never come back. I don’t know where I found the courage, but I think I surprised him.”

“Because he was expecting you to fall in line.”

Winnie grimaced. “Yes.”

“Damn,” Larkin said gruffly. “You are one amazing woman. But I’m guessing he didn’t take that well.” He let her see his admiration, but not his loathing for her attacker. She had refused to be a victim and he would do all in his power to protect that heartbreaking dignity.

“He did not. First, he tried to undress me again. I kneed him in the groin. Then he tried threats. I laughed at him.”

“Ouch.”

“He said some pretty awful things about how no man would ever want me after what had happened and that I was hopeless when it came to sex. For a long time afterward, I believed him.”

“Bastard…”

“Then he threw me into a wall and broke my jaw.”

“Jesus.”

They stared at each other, Winnie’s gaze wary, her arms wrapped around her waist. She shrugged. “He stormed out. I think the blood scared him. I called an ambulance and ended up having surgery. When it was all over, I found a decent lawyer and filed charges. Mike is now serving an extended sentence in a federal pen.”

“I wish I believed in the death penalty,” Larkin growled, meaning every word. The thought of a young, defenseless Winnie being sexually assaulted and abused shoved his anger to catatonic levels.

“The point is,” she said quietly, “that because I was reared in a good family, well educated and left with plenty of money, I had the self-confidence to do what I did. And the courage to do so, because I had options. Choices. The women I work with have none of that. So they stay in abusive relationships longer than they should…sometimes far too long. So now you see why I have to help.”

He bowed his head momentarily, feeling something that was far stronger than pity, much deeper than compassion.

“Thank you for telling me,” he said quietly. “We have about a half hour before we land. Why don’t you lie back down and try to sleep.”

When Winnie closed her eyes, he heard her breathing grow deep and steady in moments. He knew that telling him her deepest secret had exhausted her emotionally. And coming on the heels of what had happened to Esteban’s mother, he suspected the recounting of her own experience of violence had drained her to the point of collapse.

His reaction to the truth was a physical pain that permeated every cell of his being. Though it made no sense, he felt guilty that he had been unable to save her. And what about now? Who would be there to keep her from harm in the years ahead? He couldn’t, wouldn’t answer the question. Not if he wanted to survive.

* * *

When Winnie walked into the safe house a couple of hours later, the women encircled her, their faces filled with relief. Despite the elaborate security precautions put in place by Larkin and his team, these vulnerable, terrified wives and girlfriends and mothers found solace in Winnie’s presence.

She had made Larkin promise to stay outside until she summoned him.

The crowd parted and Esteban stepped forward. “Hola, Miss Winnie. I missed you.” He burst into tears as she knelt and gathered him into her arms. Every set of eyes in the room was wet.

Winnie rocked him in a tight embrace as she whispered to him. “Everything will be okay, my sweet boy. Don’t you worry.”

At last he pulled away, wiped his face on his sleeve and looked at her. “Señor Lobo?” he asked hopefully.

Winnie smiled. “Right outside. You want to go with me to see him?”

“Sí, sí…”

In the yard, Winnie stood back, unable to stem more tears, as Larkin swooped up the child and held him in strong arms. The two males carried on a low-voiced conversation she couldn’t hear, but something Larkin said actually coaxed a laugh from Esteban.

Larkin smiled. “I explained to Esteban that you’ve been awake all night and need to sleep. He’s going to play here today with his friends, and I promised you’d be back to see him this evening.”

Winnie nodded, barely able to stand. “Sounds good to me.”

* * *

At the house, she allowed Larkin to pamper her. He carried her up to her bedroom and set her on her feet. “A shower?”

She nodded. “But with you.”

The conflict on his face was unmistakable. “I don’t want to—”

She put a hand over his mouth. “Do this for me. Please. Wash me. Make love to me. Sleep with me.”

But despite her begging, Larkin had his own agenda. He touched her as if she were a priceless, fragile treasure. As he bathed her in the shower, his sex was erect and demanding. Larkin, however, paid no attention to anything but her comfort. When she swayed with exhaustion, he dried her off, sat her on a low stool and combed her hair, blow-drying it as he went, until her unruly tresses lay docile on her shoulders.

He seemed to have a desire to carry her, so for once, she let herself be weak. When he tucked her into bed, she put her hand on his arm, feeling the warmth of him. “I need you,” she said.

He hesitated. In his eyes, for a split second, she saw the truth. He was trying, but it was too much. This was exactly what Larkin didn’t want. A clingy woman. A relationship that demanded he play the protector. Oh, God. “Never mind,” she said hurriedly. “I’m fine.” Somewhere she found the courage to smile. “Really I am. Please turn off the light as you go out.”

* * *

Larkin’s misery and distress and wretched guilt coalesced into a sharp, thrusting pain that stole his breath. “You should rest, Winnie.”

The look on her face hurt him more than anything he had ever faced. Every hint of color remaining in her pale cheeks faded away, leaving her gaze dull with acceptance. “I understand. You can go home. I’ll handle this. I don’t need you. It’s okay.”

Dear God. She was trying to let him off the hook. Acknowledging his total inability to support her emotionally. Words failed him. Everything he had ever believed about himself splintered in a silent roar of agony. All he had to do was climb into that bed and hold her, but if he did, his heart would break. Nothing he could say or do would fix the situation with Esteban. Nothing he had to offer would take away Winnie’s pain. “I’m sorry,” he muttered. “I’m sorry.” He turned blindly toward the door and walked out.

* * *

Winnie awoke alone and disoriented. She was actually hungry, and no wonder. She had slept for three hours. Afternoon sun lit the hardwood floor, catching dust motes in the slanted beams.

Reality washed over her. Brutal. Inescapable. It was hard to breathe. Esteban. Larkin. The pain was vast. Endless. Swinging her feet over the side of the bed, she stood up and put a hand on the wall when the room spun. How could she live? How could she move? The future gaped before her. Hollow. Terrifyingly empty.

Forcing herself to go through the motions, she freshened up and dressed. Her life was in ruins, but she wasn’t the only one. Her responsibilities had not disappeared. Esteban needed her. Life had to go on. But first, something called out to her. The one place where she could funnel her heartbreak and perhaps find a measure of peace.

* * *

Larkin found her in the salon where they’d first met. Sitting at the beautiful piano. Her head was bent, her hands never slowing down. From what he remembered of his music-appreciation class, she was playing an incredibly difficult Chopin étude.

Her fingers flew over the keys. The notes rose and fell, filling the room, rich with beauty and sorrow and hope. He closed his eyes and let the music roll over him. How could a woman who had known so much tragedy in her life play with such joyous abandon?

He leaned against the wall, out of sight, eyes damp as he listened to what she couldn’t or wouldn’t say to him. When it was over, she closed the folio of sheet music and began to sob.

He couldn’t bear it. “Don’t, my love,” he said. “Don’t cry.”

Her head snapped up, shock in every muscle as she wiped her face and composed herself. “You left.”

“No,” he said simply. “I didn’t. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. I’ve been walking the perimeter of the property, waiting for you to wake up.”

Quietly, he sat down on the bench, facing the opposite direction. Not touching her.

She lifted her shoulders, her lips trembling, her spine straight. Wariness and disbelief filled her gaze. “Now I’ve played for you.” She was wearing faded jeans and a gold Vanderbilt T-shirt that matched the amber in her eyes. On Wolff Mountain she had dressed the part of wealthy heiress. Today she was simply…Winnie. He liked both personas. But this was the woman who’d first caught his eye.

He put his arms around her, groaning when hers came around his waist and she rested her head on his shoulder. Sighing, he felt his world click into place. “How come you never told me you were a concert pianist?”

“Thirteen years of private lessons and a music minor in college. I hated every minute of it. Then when my parents died, I played out of guilt for months. One day I suddenly realized I loved the music. I had to get past all my childish rebellion to see what they had given me. A legacy of all the magnificent composers in the world. I’m a very lucky woman.”

He nibbled her neck. “You’re a very amazing woman. And I’m in love with you. Marry me, Winnie.”

She jerked backward so fast they both nearly toppled off the bench. Hands clenched on his shoulders, she stared at him, eyes raw with grief. “That’s not funny.”

He kissed her nose. “No. It’s damned serious. And while I’m at it, if Esteban has no other family members who can take him in, you and I might think about adopting him.”

Tears leaked from her beautiful eyes, each one scoring him with regret for what he had done to her. His sins astounded him, but no more than his arrogance and insistence that he needed no one.

She put a hand on his forehead. “You didn’t get any sleep last night. You’re delirious.”

“Never been saner.”

“You loathe responsibility. You like a life that’s footloose and fancy-free. You deserve that, Larkin. Really you do.”

“I can’t believe you ever slept with me. I was such an as—”

The hand moved from his forehead to cover his mouth. “You don’t have to feel sorry for me. That’s not why I told you my story on the plane.”

“Do you feel sorry for me?”

“Well, I…” Her mouth opened and closed. “No,” she said. “I don’t.”

“We’ve both lived through some horrific stuff. But I think we turned out pretty damned well.”

She kept studying his eyes, as if expecting to read the truth there. He cupped her face in his hands. “I love you, Winifred Bellamy. I love your passion for life and your unflinching courage. I love the way your body welcomes mine. I love how you met my family and fit right in and saw past the craziness to the bond we all share. You’re part of that now. Wolff Mountain claimed you. I’m claiming you. Say you’ll marry me. We can wait six months or a year. If it will make you feel better about things. But I won’t change my mind.”

“What if I just say yes because I want to be part of your big, wonderful wolf pack?”

“Are you saying yes?” A grin spilled over his face.

“Perhaps.”

“Then I think I could live with it. But I’d like to know, Winnie. For the record. Do you love me?”

Their gazes locked. Her pause bothered him more than it should.

Finally, she smiled through her tears. “You know I do, you wretch. Why else would I agree to have tree-house sex with you?”

“Is that anything like wild monkey sex?”

She laughed, her eyes wet and her cheeks flushed. “You tell me.”

He kissed her long and slow, showing her what he was too clumsy to express with words. Winnie was soft and warm, and when her breasts nestled up against his chest, he felt his control slipping. “It’s dinnertime. We can’t do this.”

She laughed, a wicked, knowing sound that made his breath catch. “Since when are you so worried about propriety?”

He gave in without much of a fight, following Winnie up the stairs to her unmade bed. “My family is never going to let me live this down.”

She locked the door, stripped her shirt over her head and shoved him backward onto the bed. “I’ll make it up to you, my love. I swear.”

They wrestled like children, laughing and panting, ripping at buttons and zippers until they were both naked. He paused, his forehead pressed to hers. “Do you forgive me?” he asked, his throat tight. Surely she knew what he meant. Every stupid word he had ever uttered.

“Yes. Yes, I do. It’s okay, Larkin. We’re okay.”

Relief was as sweet as spring rain. Settling his hips between her legs, he braced himself on his hands and looked down at her. “I didn’t know,” he said, shivering inwardly at how close he came to missing out.

“Didn’t know what?” Her slow, quiet smile bathed him in peace, despite the fact that his body was taut with longing.

“I didn’t know what it was that Devlyn and Annalise and my cousins had found. I thought I was different. More broken. That I couldn’t have what they have.”

She guided him into her center. The feel of her fingers on his rock-hard sex was heaven and hell. When he was all the way in, with their bodies locked breath to breath, he sighed.

Winnie’s eyes were closed, a small smile curving her lips. “And what do they have, my wonderful Wolff?”

He flexed his hips, drawing a groan from her, a hiss of amazement from his own throat. “Love, Winnie. The Wolffs have love….”