Fated Love (18 page)

"Where's your sling?" Honor asked as she sat down in the chair next to Quinn.

Quinn rolled her head to the side, opened her eyes, and grinned sheepishly. "I lost it."

"Uh-huh. That's convenient." Despite herself, Honor smiled as she extended the coffee. "Can I tempt you with this?"

"Tempt me? You can have my soul for that, even if it's only
half as
good as it smells." She lifted the coffee and drank, then closed her eyes and sighed with pleasure. "God, this is fabulous."

"Mmm." Honor liked having been the cause of Quinn's undisguised satisfaction. A lot. Probably too much. But at that moment, relaxing in the warm, still, peaceful morning, she didn't care.

Smiling, Quinn said lazily, "So what do I owe you?"

"Well, your
soul
is probably safe for the time being." Pretending to consider, Honor finally grinned. "I'll have to get back to you when I've thought of something suitable."

"Okay," Quinn replied slowly. "You just let me know what, when, and where."

The husky timbre in Quinn's yoice was not lost on Honor, although she refused to acknowledge the pleasant warmth that suffused her in response. Instead, she sipped her coffee and studied Quinn's face. There were faint shadows beneath her eyes but her gaze was clear, pain free. "Did you get
any
sleep?"

"Some." Actually, she'd tossed and turned and found it no easier to sleep
after
the shower than before. All she could think about was standing with Honor in the half-light of the hushed hallway and praying that Honor would touch her. The seething arousal that had accompanied the memories hadn't made for a restful night. "I woke up early, and when I looked outside, I had to come down here. You don't see mornings like this in Manhattan."

"No, probably not." Honor set her cup down and stretched out her legs, noting that Quinn held her left arm motionless across her stomach. "How's the shoulder?"

"Better. Stiff—about what I expected."

"You didn't ask me to help you with the immobilizer last night."

"I started to," Quinn said in self-defense, feeling partly embarrassed and partly guilty. "But when I peeked into your room, you looked like you were already asleep."

Yes, and dreaming of you.
Honor blushed. "Sorry. You could have awakened me."

Quinn lifted her good shoulder. "I could have. But I didn't think it was necessary."

"Oh, really?"

"Well,
I am a
doctor, too, you know."

"And you're also a jock, and I know how jocks deal with injuries. Ignore them and pretend they never happened."

Quinn laughed. "Guilty." Contemplatively, she sipped her coffee. "How about you? You strike me as being the jock type yourself."

"Not so much, really. I was usually too busy with school. Terry was the jock."

As soon as the words were spoken, Honor stiffened. She didn't usually talk about Terry, at least not with anyone other than Linda and Robin or Phyllis. She couldn't imagine why she had mentioned her to Quinn, of all people.

"Was soccer her game, too?" Quinn asked casually, aware of Honor's sudden discomfort. But it seemed important to keep going. Honor had said they were friends, and if that's truly what they were to be, even if that was
all
they were to be, Terry could not be a secret.

"Soccer, Softball, football—you name it, she played it." Honor's voice faltered, then she smiled, a tiny fond lift of her lips. "She was always getting banged up.''

"Ah, now I understand Phyllis's comment about tough girls and injuries."

Honor studied Quinn, thinking that she ought to be surprised that Quinn even
knew
about Terry, but she wasn't, Quinn was one of the most instinctively insightful people she had ever met. "You don't miss much, do you?"

"I pay attention," Quinn said quietly.
Especially when it matters so much.

"I know."

Quinn wanted to ask more, wanted to know about the woman Honor had loved, had married, had borne a child with. Not out of a sense of competition—at least, if she was honest, not so
much
because of that—but out of a deep desire to know Honor. But she also intuited that this was a subject that could not be rushed, and she prudently sought less volatile ground. "You're up pretty early for a Sunday."

"I'm working the day shift."

"Oh, yes." Quinn's eyes darkened, jolted abruptly from the companionable conversation back to the reality of their true relationship. Honor was her boss, and about to make a decision that would affect the rest of Quinn's life. Her voice was tinged with faint frustration and a hint of temper. "I
was
scheduled to work, too. But then, you know that."

Hearing the anger, Honor looked away, then forced herself to meet Quinn's eyes. "Since it's Sunday, I won't be able to reach anyone today about the...situation."

"I didn't expect anything to be resolved until next week," Quinn replied quietly, forcing calm when she felt anything but. Still, she didn't want to fight with Honor, and in her rational mind, she appreciated Honor's sense of responsibility.

"First thing Monday morning, I'll talk to the chief of medicine and the attorneys."

"Thanks. If you need my cardiologist's contact info, I can give you that." She hesitated. "I'll sign a release for you to get copies of my records, too, if you want."

"I don't think that will be necessary, but thank you for offering." Appreciating what an invasion of privacy this was for Quinn, and grateful for her cooperation, Honor sighed and rubbed her forehead. "I'm sorry to put you through this, Quinn. But I'm the head of the department, and I have to be certain that all contingencies have been considered and that we're free from liability."

A muscle bunched along the edge of Quinn's jaw, but she merely nodded.

Speaking almost to herself, Honor muttered, "This could have been avoided if Mary Ann hadn't hired you before I could interview you."

"What do you mean?" Quinn leaned forward, her expression piercingly intent.

Honor regarded Quinn steadily. "What would you have said if I had asked you why you weren't planning on practicing surgery? And I
would have
asked."

"I would have said that I had a medical condition that presently prevented me from doing that."

"And when I asked for details?"

"I would have told you," Quinn said immediately.

"Precisely." Honor ran a hand through her hair. "Mary Ann Jones is an excellent administrator, and I'm very happy to have her as my chief when it's time to negotiate for salary lines and to keep surgery from swallowing up my department." At Quinn's raised eyebrow, Honor laughed. "It's true and you know it. You're all a bunch of territorial bandits."

"She didn't ask me, Honor." She blew out a breath. "I needed this job. I
wanted
this j ob. I wasn't about to make an announcement that would endanger my chance of getting it."

"I can understand that," Honor replied. And she could. "But I'm responsible for the ER, Quinn, and at some point, I
should have
been involved in the decision."

"I guess I can see why you weren't real happy to see me show up." Quinn reached over and touched her shoulder. "Sorry."

Honor flushed, surprised by the contact, because Quinn rarely initiated it, and embarrassed by her behavior when Quinn first arrived. "I was irritated...actually, I was mightily pissed off...that Mary Ann had gone over my head in hiring you. That wasn't your fault. I apologize for the cool welcome—you didn't deserve that."

"No matter." Quinn turned the empty mug on her knee, staring out over the expanse of green lawn enclosed by a wood privacy fence. Honor's yard was smaller than Linda and Robin's, but still ample and more private. At the moment, it felt as if they were the only two people in the world. Softly, she asked the one thing that really did matter. "Would you have hired me?"

For a long moment, Honor didn't answer. She'd heard the uncertain note in Quinn's voice and seen the faint tremor in the fingers ,that cradled the ceramic mug. For the first time, she truly appreciated how difficult it must be for Quinn—-a woman who was used to being the best, who had achieved far more than most people her age or even older—to suddenly find herself in a position where her value and worth were brought into question. "It would have been hard to turn you down."

Quinn turned her head in Honor's direction and smiled wryly. "Spoken like a true administrator."

"No, I'm completely serious." Honor reached out and rested her hand on Quinn's arm. "You're quite a catch, Quinn Maguire."

It was Quinn's turn to blush. "Is that your professional assessment?"

"Partially."

"And the other part?" Quinn found herself holding her breath as she watched the rich color swirl in Honor's eyes, heavy and drowningly deep.

"Personal...observation." Honor's voice was honey thick. "You're sensitive, and kind, and tender. All good qualities in an... ER physician."

"And you base that on what?" Quinn was embarrassed, but pleased. "My stellar bedside manner?"

"No." Honor's fingers drifted down Quinn's arm until they rested on the top of her hand. "On the way you treat my child."
And me.

Quirm leaned forward, drawn to the tenderness in Honor's gaze. "She brings out my best side."

"Just wait," Honor murmured, watching Quinn's lips move as she spoke, mesmerized by their moist promise, "until you see what she can bring out in you on one of her
bad
days."

"I look forward to it." Quinn found it hard to take a full breath because she feared that the tiniest movement would fracture their fragile connection. "She must be like you, that way. You bring out... things...in me, too."

"Good things?" Honor's voice had dropped so low that the words were barely a hum in her throat.

"Wonderful things."

They were inches apart, their bodies nearly touching, their fingers lightly entwined. The air was still, warm, and somewhere a carillon sent its melody into the clear morning sky.

"Quinn."

"Yes?"

Honor blinked, and her eyes focused as if awakening from a dream. "I have to go to work."

"I know. And I should go home." Quinn eased back in the chair, oddly content even as Honor moved away and their hands separated. They had broached a few of the things that stood between them. Her illness. Terry. It was a start.

"I want to put your immobilizer on you first," Honor stated.

Quinn groaned.

"Yes,"
Honor's tone brooked no argument. "You need your meds, too, don't you?"

"Tylenol will do—I'm done with the narcotics. They make me too sluggish."

Honor hesitated. "I meant your heart meds."

"Oh." Quinn grimaced, hating that Honor would even think of it. "Yeah."

"Phyllis will be here any minute, and she'll be making breakfast. At least stay for that, all right?" It seemed like a natural request, and Honor saw no reason for Quinn to know that she just wanted her to stay a little while longer. Secretly, though, she found it harder and harder to deny that she enjoyed the way Quinn stirred her. Just when she thought she had everything under control, Quinn would say something or do something to turn her carefully constructed existence upside down. And she liked the way that felt. Edgy and exciting and
alive.

"I don't have anything wrong with my head," Quinn said adamantly, rising and stretching. "If Phyllis is making breakfast, then I'm staying."

"Ah, I can see that you're a woman whose stomach calls the shots."

Quinn grinned. ''Now and then."
With you, though, it's my heart.

Seeing the echo of the sentiment in Quinn's eyes, Honor flushed. "Then come along, Dr. Maguire. Let's find your missing immobilizer, and
then
breakfast."

Knowing when she was beaten, Quinn just sighed. But as she followed Honor into the house, she was smiling.

* * * * *

Thirteen and a half hours later, Honor pulled into the driveway, shut off the engine, and leaned her head back. Closing her eyes, she sighed and gathered herself to greet her family. After a long day at work, she was tired and talked out. But Arly would be waiting, excited to see her after the hours apart and eager to share the day's events. It wasn't that Honor wasn't interested, or didn't enjoy every moment with her daughter, but sometimes she simply felt drained. After a minute, she gathered her briefcase and headed for the house.

When she walked through the back door, the first thing she noticed was the unmistakable aroma of pizza. She groaned out loud in grateful anticipation.
No cooking, no cleanup. Thank God.

The next thing she heard was Arly's excited chatter, and she frowned as she caught snippets of the conversation. It sounded very much as if her daughter was discussing livers and kidneys.
For dinner?

Honor dropped her briefcase on the kitchen table and walked through the house to the living room, where she stopped in stunned surprise. Arly and Quinn sat on the floor with a newspaper spread out between them, covered with what appeared to be...body parts. Very tiny body parts.

"Hello?"

Arly looked up, her eyes shining. "Hi, Mom! Look. We're painting organs."

Eyes narrowing, Honor approached and squatted down between Quinn and her daughter. "I see that. A yellow liver and purple kidneys. Lovely."

"It's the Visible Woman," Arly informed her enthusiastically, pointing to the two halves of the plastic figure and its associated anatomically correct parts. "Quinn got it for me."

Honor glanced at Quinn, then did a double take when she saw that Quinn's cheek was streaked with blood. Blood that, upon closer inspection, revealed itself to be red paint. She reached out her thumb and brushed at the smudge. "Did she, now?"

Quinn's eyes widened at the soft touch that was almost a caress, but she kept her tone light. "It was a choice between unpacking boxes or going shopping. The choice was clear." She pointed to her left arm, dutifully restrained in the immobilizer. "Besides, I'm not supposed to do any heavy labor with my injured arm, so household chores were out."