"I've been thinking about this all afternoon and I've come up with a solution that I think will take the heat out of anything Ms. Carmody writes."
"Great, I'll help in any way I can," Larissa said. Jake rubbed her shoulder, and she leaned back to smile at him. He didn't smile at her, but a warmth entered his eyes that made her acutely aware of every place where their bodies touched.
"Perfect. I think you two need to get married as soon as possible."
Jake surged to his feet. "No way."
For Larissa, the next few moments seemed to happen in slow motion and there was a ringing in her ears. She wasn't sure what she'd expected, but being forced to marry the man whose child she'd had wasn't it. She had the first inkling of what her mother may have felt all those years ago when she'd faced Reilly Payton and his family—trapped and doomed.
"Excuse me," she said, standing. She walked from the room, down the long hall and out into the night.
Any chance of forever happiness with Jake was gone in an instant, because no man could ever love a woman who'd forced him into a marriage he didn't want.
Six
« ^ »
Jake knew he'd screwed up even before he'd felt Larissa leave the room. But one look at the condemnation shining from his father's eyes was all it took to make him feel about fourteen again. Dammit.
He turned away from his father and focused instead on Nicola.
"Is a marriage going to be a problem?" she asked.
Jake had no idea. He suspected that he was the last man Larissa would marry right now, after hearing his reaction to the suggestion. But the suggestion had taken him completely off guard.
"No, it won't be a problem, will it, Jacob?" His father, Harry Danforth, said. There were maybe two moments in his life when Jake had felt as if he'd pleased the old man. Once when he was six and won the all-city soccer kickoff, and once when he had made his first million with D&D's Coffeehouses. But for the remainder of Jake's life, he'd seen his father with the same look he had on his face now: one of disappointment.
Even Uncle Abe and Wes were looking at him like he'd screwed up. But he knew what his father meant. He'd made this mess, now it was time to clean it up. "I don't know that Larissa wants to marry me," Jake said. Not much of an excuse but the only one he had.
"Then convince her," Harry said.
"I'll try." Jake stood and exited the room. He paused in the hallway and leaned back against the wall. His hands were shaking and he had that gut feeling that life was changing in a way he hadn't anticipated.
The hallways were lit with wall sconces and Jake figured Larissa hadn't gone out the front door, but out the back into the gardens. He pushed away from the wall and moved slowly through the house. Crofthaven was a showplace, unlike his parents' more modest house.
He stepped out into the spring evening and paused. What if he couldn't convince Larissa to marry him? He'd learned a long time ago that running away from problems wasn't a solution. But marriage? It wasn't as if he had anything against the institution, but he wasn't sure it was the right move for them.
He heard the rustling of leaves and a soft fall of footsteps. He followed the sound until he found Larissa. She was walking around one of the smaller formal gardens in the backyard. Hedges surrounded it and there was a very European feel to this garden. A marble bench was tucked off to one side and Larissa paused next to it, then sank down on the bench. He stayed in the shadows to watch her.
The full moon and landscape lanterns provided soft lighting to the area, revealing the woman who was bound to him in ways he didn't understand. It was more than that they shared a child. It was more than sharing college memories. It was a soul-deep feeling that made him flinch and that he found difficult to ignore.
He didn't know what to say to her. He wasn't really sure what he wanted from her. But he knew what duty demanded and he'd give it his best shot.
He was about to step from the shadows, when Larissa turned her head to the right and brought the blossom of a hibiscus close to her face, inhaling deeply. What was she thinking?
"Can I join you?" he asked.
She turned toward him. He stepped from the shadows and waited for her permission to join her.
She shrugged and crossed her arms over her chest.
He sat next to her, leaving space between them. Though it was only a few inches, he knew the gap here was miles wide. His next words would have to build a bridge over it. But he wasn't ready. He was still angry that she'd never told him about Peter before now. He knew he needed to get past the anger and thought he'd been making some progress in that direction.
But sitting in his uncle's library and knowing those closest to him knew the mother of his child didn't think he was good enough to be a father—well, hell, it hurt. And he'd reacted the only way he'd ever learned—by lashing out and hurting back.