"No dad? I don't understand," Jake said. He rubbed the bridge of his nose with two fingers and tried to assemble everything she'd told him of her past. He knew she'd had a rough childhood and he didn't really want to be responsible for her having to relive it now. But he had to understand her.
He hadn't been able to sleep last night and his future evenings looked just as restless unless she gave up her idea of a platonic marriage. The only idea he'd had that might work was keeping a distance between them, but even that was next to impossible.
"Explain it to me," he said at last. She was seated next to him in a pretty pink dress that made her eyes seem even bluer. With her blond hair free around her shoulders she looked too feminine for him. Too soft and gentle and he was very afraid that his baser instincts would overwhelm him, despite his mother's best efforts to make him into a gentleman.
"There's not much to say. My mom trapped herself a husband, but Reilly wasn't interested in being a dad, so he refused to have any contact with me. When I was four, he ran off with his secretary, leaving us nothing."
"I'm sorry, Larissa. But I don't see how our marriage resembles your mom's. I've already told you I don't feel trapped. We were both there the night Peter was conceived."
She smiled at him—the first time she'd done so today, and though he knew he shouldn't let it, he felt that smile all the way to his soul. It made him feel bigger than he was—like a man who wasn't a disappointment to his dad. A man who hadn't spent most of his adult life dodging responsibility. A man who could be hers for the rest of his life.
"Thanks."
"You're welcome. Do you feel better now?" he asked.
She shrugged and glanced out the window of the car. Jake leaned back in the seat and thought about all Larissa had told him. He suspected she was leaving out some very important details. He realized suddenly that perhaps her own father's treatment of her had influenced her decision not to tell him about Peter.
"You kept Peter a secret because you thought I'd treat him the way your dad did you," he said.
She turned to look at him, but she didn't say anything. Her silence confirmed his suspicion. This was why he'd never dated a woman for too long. He knew he wasn't good at building relationships.
"I'd never hurt our son," he said at last. He meant it too. Realizing that made him doubt he should continue with his custody suit. Because the one thing that would really hurt Peter was not having Larissa in his life. And though he justified his suit as insurance that Larissa could never cut him out of their lives again, he knew it was more about payback. Suddenly payback didn't seem justifiable. He'd keep it on the back burner if this marriage didn't work out.
Larissa bit her lower lip, tears glittering in her eyes. "I know that. Believe me, Jake, I wouldn't have made love with you that night if I thought you were anything like Reilly was."
He should put the car back in gear and do what Nicola had suggested this morning before they left—pretend they were actors and show the world a couple in love. Jake knew he was going to have no problem pretending to be in lust with Larissa. His real problem was going to be remembering it was a charade.
"Then what did you mean by not wanting to end up like your mom?"
"Just that Reilly resented her."
"I don't resent you," he said, drawing his finger down the side of her neck. She shivered under his touch and leaned just the tiniest bit closer to him.
He leaned down and kissed the base of her neck. She trembled under his touch, her fingers coming to hold his head. He glanced up at her. Her eyes were closed and she held him with a fierceness he knew she'd deny.
They were both masters of hiding. But he didn't intend to let her hide anymore. She didn't want a platonic relationship with him and they both knew it.
He raked his teeth down the column of her neck and she moaned deep in her throat. He felt the vibrations against his lips.
"This is crazy," she said.
"This is right," he said, pulling her more fully into his arms. She wedged her hands between them and pushed away slightly.
"What now?"
"We said we'd try to keep this nonsexual."
"God, woman, how many times are you going to bring that up? I think it's obvious we're fighting a losing battle."
"I know."
"Then why'd you bring it up?"
She took a deep breath. "Because I'm not the type of woman who is going to make a good Danforth wife."
"Why not?"
"You need someone of your own class. Someone who comes from money and is used to eating on bone china and drinking from Waterford crystal glasses."
"I don't live like that."
"No, but your family does. And they're going to realize I'm not worthy of the Danforth name."