Pieces of You (17 page)

“So, how serious is it?  Mom won’t spill the beans, and I’ve been working Sylvia but she’s too damn loyal, and Danielle turns beet red and starts stammering when I get within two hundred yards of the issue. The only one who gave me decent Intel was Arianna and I had to practically pull it out of her.”

“You should have worked for the CIA,” he said, dodging the subject.

She raised an eyebrow and said, “In my line of work, you learn the right questions to ask and never give up because it could save a life.”

That made Quinn grin. “My personal information isn’t saving lives. I’d say you’re gleaning this more for personal use, wouldn’t you?”

“I’d call it protecting my investments.”

“How so?” Wrong question. She took this tiny sliver of opportunity and pounced on her soapbox before he realized what he’d done.

“I knew you’d find a real woman one of these days, I mean one with heart and soul, not just silicone.” Her eyes lit up as she expounded on the virtues of his new girlfriend and the anti-virtues as she called them, of the previous women in his life. “I won’t even call them girlfriends because you and I know they were just toys.” She lowered her voice and whispered, “Sex toys.”

Quinn tugged on his tie and glanced around the restaurant. Was his little sister really going to lecture him on sex and women?

“But I think they were all necessary,” she went on, “so when the right one stepped into your life, she’d stick out like a cherry on a hot fudge sundae.”

A cherry on a hot fudge sundae? “
Thanks for the insight.”

“You’re very welcome. I’m getting quite good at matching people up. Ask Sylvia. She said the stars are aligned in your favor.”

“If that woman paid half as much attention to her typing as she did to that damn horoscope, I’d have bumped her up three pay grades by now.”

“She means well.”

“Yeah, well it’s annoying.”

“You know, you’re all bark and no bite.” Her smile deepened. “You grouch about Sylvia but didn’t you send her to Tahiti last year with her mother?”

Quinn shrugged. “I don’t remember.”
Her cousin went, too.

“And Sylvia told me you paid the plant man’s hospital bill when he fell and broke his leg.”

“Now I know that woman’s talking too much.”

Annie reached across the table and clasped his hand. “You’re a good person. I don’t know why you go to such lengths to hide it. What are you so afraid of?”

“What are you talking about?”

Her dark eyes crinkled at the corners and she suddenly looked much older than twenty-eight. “I think you should marry her.”

“What?”

“Marry Danielle. You make the perfect couple.”

“You’ve been looking at too many
Bride
magazines. Why don’t you just concentrate on Michael right now?”

She eyed him over her root beer and assured him, “He gets first rate attention these days and I’m keeping him quite happy, thank you very much.”

“You mean since I got booted down the ladder?”

“You’ll always be at the top of my list.” She spoke with such earnestness he wished he’d kept his mouth shut. “We’ve been through things most kids couldn’t imagine.”

“Annie, don’t think about the past.”

“I wouldn’t have made it if it hadn’t been for you.”

“You’re tougher than you think, kiddo.”

“Thanks.” She sipped her root beer. “No attacks for three weeks.”

“The medicine’s working then.”

She nodded. “Uh-huh, and I like the doctor, too. Michael said he’s one of the best.”

“Good. So just concentrate on your wedding and have fun with it, okay?”

She rolled her eyes. “You know absolutely nothing about weddings, do you?
Nobody
has fun planning them. The gowns are overpriced and fit so snugly the bride can barely breathe, and forget about getting a meal that day.” She shook her head and said, “All that food and she’s stuck chomping on celery sticks and carrot wedges.”

“Sounds like a blast.”

“Hardly. Michael wants to elope, did I tell you that?”

“Smart man.”

She frowned. “We missed out on so much tradition growing up; I’m not missing out on this, too. Besides,” her voice softened, “you have to walk me down the aisle.”

He thought about what she’d said later that evening as Danielle lay tucked against him, her breath soft and warm on his skin. Annie deserved to be happy and if prancing around in white fluff for a day did the trick, then he’d be right beside her. Danielle shifted and murmured in her sleep. Quinn tightened his hold on her. The sex had been great again tonight, like it was every night. How could it be that good every time? He kept waiting for his desire to wane, even a little, but it didn’t. Maybe it was the condoms or the lack thereof. Since that first time when he’d been so desperate to be inside her that he forgot to use one, something he’d never done before, she told him she was on the pill and Maldonando had been her only lover.

Maybe knowing he was only her second lover was what turned him on so much. Hell, he didn’t know, but when he was near her all he could think of was tasting her until she moaned and burying himself so deep inside that delicious body his mark would remain there forever.

His feelings were a jumble of emotion he couldn’t understand and truthfully, didn’t want to. Maybe he should call Mandy or Victoria and see if sex with them was as good as with Danielle. But even as the idea tickled his brain, he knew he wouldn’t do it. He buried his face in her hair and breathed in her scent. This was exactly where he wanted to be, right here, right now, with this woman.

***

Arianna glanced up as the bells jingled the entrance of the tall, dark man in the European cut suit. She’d always thought Quinn was the most handsome man she’d ever met, but this one robbed her of logic and dear Lord, he actually made her breathless. “Welcome to
The Silver Strand
,” she managed when she remembered to draw in air. “May I help you?”

“I’d like to think so.”

His voice spilled over her like fine brandy on a chilly night. She tried not to stare but something in his dark eyes held her. She cleared her throat. Twice. “What can I do for you?”

He smiled and ran a hand through his black hair, which was longish and slicked back, like an Italian model. Perfect teeth. Perfect nose. Perfect cleft chin. Arianna continued to stare. Perfect.

“Well?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m looking for an opal necklace for my sister.”

Talk of jewelry jolted her back to earth. “They’re in this case, right here.” She gestured to a side case which housed opal necklaces, bracelets, and earrings. “May I suggest the black opal? It’s truly magnificent.”

His eyes scanned her lips and he murmured, “Yes, I imagine it is.”

A flash of heat burned through her and she chided herself for behaving so ridiculously. Didn’t men talk this way to her all the time? And didn’t she blow them off with nothing more than a look? This man was different. Women didn’t ignore him.

“Would you like a necklace?” She pointed to a delicate black opal on a white gold chain. “Or perhaps a bracelet? This one is very unique with its double chain linked to the stones.” She gestured to a section below the bracelet and added, “We have earrings as well.”

“Hmmm.” He moved closer and his cologne tickled her senses. Lime and ginger. His very nearness unsettled her, or maybe it was his height. She stood 5’11” but this man towered over her.

“May I show you something?” she asked.

His dark gaze met hers. “Please do.”

“What would you like to see?”

A slow smile spread over full lips. “Everything.”

She was a summa cum laude from Rutgers and yet she couldn’t formulate a single response so she simply stared at him.

He splayed his long, elegant fingers across the case and said, “One necklace, one bracelet, and one set of earrings.”

“Oh.” Still, she stood there like a fool, mesmerized by some magnetic field that had stripped her of logic the second he entered the boutique.

“Thank you.” He eased away from the case and watched her select pieces for him.

“You’re welcome.” She busied herself arranging the items on the velvet pad. Anything to take her mind off those eyes.

“Do you design all of your own jewelry?” he asked, fingering a teardrop opal earring.

“Most of it.”

He lifted the earring, and studied it against the light. “It must be a lot of work.”

She shrugged. “I love what I do, so it doesn’t really seem like work at all.”

“Then you’re one of the fortunate ones,” he said, setting the earring back on the velvet pad. He straightened and pulled her to him with those obsidian eyes. “I’ll take one of each. You choose.”

“Okay,” was all she could manage.

“Now that we’ve taken care of business, where would you like to go for dinner?”

***

Eve opened the closet and removed a shirt from its hanger. She’d gotten used to seeing Quinn’s clothes next to hers, the smell of his aftershave lingering in the fabric, his shoes lined alongside hers. It was starting to feel right. It was time to leave.

She folded a yellow t-shirt and laid it in the suitcase. There would never be a good time to say goodbye, but the longer she stayed the harder it would be to make an exit and soon, her emotions would become so entangled she might not want to leave at all. Quinn would tire of her eventually, if he weren’t already beginning to, and then she’d embarrass both of them. This was the right thing to do, for herself, for Quinn. For the baby.

Quinn made her feel as though Alexander weren’t lurking in the shadows somewhere, waiting for the right second to pounce back into her life. She’d grown lax in her vigilance and almost made a trip to the grocery store with Evie yesterday, until she remembered the last time Alexander tracked her down. The man was a master who knew how to capitalize on other people’s mistakes. Eve grabbed a handful of underwear from Quinn’s dresser and tossed them in the suitcase.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

She swung around to find Quinn standing in the doorway, his gaze locked on the open suitcase.

“I’m packing.”

“Obviously.”

He sounded more annoyed than upset. “I’m leaving tonight,” she said, tossing her toiletries into a bag.

“When did you devise that plan?”

She turned her back to him so he wouldn’t see how much his indifference hurt. What had she expected? A pledge of undying love? A plea to stay? A man like Quinn would never let himself love a woman. What difference did it make? She wouldn’t let herself love again, either. The door closed softly and Eve thought he’d left the room. She turned to find him snatching armfuls of clothes from the suitcase and flinging them on the floor. Shirts, underwear, jeans. Even her brush and comb. “What are you doing?” She grabbed at the clothes but he blocked her.

The left side of his jaw twitched the tiniest bit when he spoke. “I’m helping you unpack.” He dumped the suitcase on the carpet and gripped her by the shoulders. His silver eyes burned into her and if she thought his earlier words belied indifference, she saw now that he was angry. And hurt? “Do you really want to leave?” he asked, inching closer so they were a mere kiss apart. “Can you honestly say you won’t miss me?” His fingers trailed the column of her neck, settled on the swell of her breast. “That you won’t miss this?” He brushed his mouth over hers, once, twice, stroking her lower lip with his tongue until she parted her lips and let him in. “And this?” His fingers flexed and kneaded her back, her hips, her buttocks, easing her against him.

She jerked away. “Stop. Why are you doing this?” She turned around and stared at the bed, trying to snuff out memories of the nights they’d spent together.  

“Do you really want me to stop?” His voice spilled over her whisper soft as his breath tickled the back of her neck.   

She moved against him, hating herself for wanting him, even as he tormented her with his touch. He eased his fingers along her lower belly, dipping inside her panties. When she moaned, he pressed his erection against her buttocks.

“Is that what you want?” he asked in a raspy voice. She moaned again and Quinn lifted her skirt and pushed aside her thong. “That’s one thing I like about this type of underwear,” he said in a shaky voice as he bent her over the bed and entered her from behind with one slow, purposeful stroke. “They’re so damn convenient.”

Talking stopped as he grabbed her hips and rode her, pumping into her again and again as she bucked against him in white hot pleasure. Quinn came first, letting out an exhaustive groan as he spilled himself inside her. Eve exploded seconds later, bucking so hard she almost dislodged him. She waited for him to take her in his arms as he’d done each time they’d been together. He didn’t. Instead, he eased away and pulled down her skirt. The sound of his zipper filled the room.

When he finally spoke, his voice was empty and controlled. “I’m the only thing standing between you and your estranged husband. Don’t forget that and don’t try to run again.” He dropped a box of Kleenex on the bed beside her and then he was gone.