Authors: Katie Jennings
Tags: #danilelle steel, #money, #Family, #Drama, #deceipt, #Family Saga, #stories that span generations, #Murder, #the rich, #high-stakes, #nora roberts
“Oh, nice to meet you.” Lynette blinked, taking in the other woman fully now that they weren’t rushing. She was pretty, in an exotic, gypsy kind of way, Lynette considered, admiring Quinn’s dark curls and startling hazel eyes. Her smile was weary and laced with apprehension, a fact which made Lynette worry even more.
“So are you Linc’s girlfriend?”
Caught off guard, Lynette let out an embarrassed laugh and ran her hand nervously through her length of red hair. “We’re…seeing each other, I guess. But it’s not very serious yet.”
“From the look on your face, I’d say you care about him,” Quinn observed, her smile warm. “That’s good. He needs someone right now, especially after this.”
“What happened?”
“From what I gathered, their grandfather has passed away,” Quinn said, sadness darkening her eyes. “Madison was not taking it well.”
“Is that their sister?” Lynette asked as the elevator came to a stop and the doors opened.
Quinn simply looked up at the pretty redhead and nodded, her expression anxious now as she rushed out of the elevator and headed back towards Madison’s office, relieved at least that she could no longer hear crying. Clearly they had managed to calm her down.
Linc was sitting on the edge of Madison’s desk, holding her hand as she stood wrapped in Grant’s arms, her eyes red rimmed but no longer shedding tears. When Quinn and Lynette came into the office alcove, Linc glanced over his shoulder and spotted them. His emotions were at a severely dangerous boiling point, but seeing Lynette, calm blue eyes filled with worry for him, had him taking a deep breath and rising to his feet.
He murmured her name as he went to her, gathering her into his arms and holding her tightly. “I’m sorry, I forgot you were coming by.”
“That doesn’t matter.” Lynette pulled away so she could see his face more clearly, her hand coming up to slide over his cheek. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay,” he said firmly, looking up then as Marshall rushed in, his usually jovial face creased with dark grief. “Uncle Marshall.”
“Linc.” Marshall nodded to Lynette absently as he patted Linc on the shoulder, nodding also to Quinn before making his way into the office, heading straight for Madison. Grant released her so she could go into Marshall’s arms. He held her tightly for a long moment, tears sliding hotly down his cheeks.
“It’s going to be okay, dear,” Marshall said quietly, more to calm his own nerves than to help her. He knew she was much stronger than he was, as much as he didn’t readily want to admit it most of the time. But right now, it was as much her holding him as it was he who was holding her.
Grant looked away from his uncle and sister and spotted Quinn retreating back towards her desk. He had the sudden desperate need to be next to her. He was pushing back his grief as best as he could, but for now there was nothing more he could do for his family. For now, at least, his siblings were taken care of.
As he brushed past Linc and Lynette, he met his brother’s eyes and nodded. Linc nodded in return, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. They both knew that Cyrus’ death was likely to change things, and change things drastically. Now they would never know his side of the story, and so Win’s account would be the only one the family would have.
Grant stalked into the alcove outside his own office, pausing before Quinn’s desk as he watched her gather up her things. When she looked up from her purse and met his eyes, he noticed the traces of tears in hers. He froze, unsure just what to do, what to say. He had never known how to deal with his own emotions, much less anyone else’s. With Madison it had been instinctual: he had to protect her. But with Quinn, he had no responsibility for her, no ties, no connection other than that he was her boss. So how was he supposed to comfort her? Or, rather, should he allow her to attempt to comfort him?
“I’m sorry, Grant,” she murmured softly, sensing his discomfort. He often had the appearance of a man who wanted to say something, but had no clue how to say it. “If there’s anything I can do-”
“We’ll be alright,” Grant interrupted, feeling foolish for craving her company so badly that he was letting himself be distracted by it. “There are arrangements to be made, family members to call. You are free to go home, I don’t need you.”
Quinn wondered over his choice of words for a brief second before speaking. “Okay…do you mind me asking what happened to him? To your grandfather?”
Grief and anger over the situation flashed once in his eyes at her words, his hands clenching visibly at his sides. She noted both as she watched him, wishing more than anything that there was something she could do for him.
When he spoke, his voice was hard and unfeeling, such an extreme contrast to his words that it took her violently by surprise. “He pulled the plug on the machines keeping him alive. He killed himself.”
“Oh.” Her hand flew up to cover her mouth, her eyes wide with shock. “I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t be,” he insisted, despising himself for burdening her with the horror of it all. Though she was likely to find out eventually as it was going to be all over the news by morning. “Go home, get some sleep. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
With that, he turned to go back to his family. Quinn followed him out and they both met up with Linc and Lynette in the hallway.
“Mom’s on her way,” Linc told Grant, his arm wrapped tightly around Lynette’s shoulders.
Grant looked once at the redhead and realized abruptly that this girl was something of an anchor for his brother, a buoy for him to cling to in this rough time. Did he have that with Quinn? Despite how much he tried to deny it to himself, perhaps he did.
Linc gestured to the girl, attempting a smile. “This is Lynette, by the way.”
She held out a hand to him, her blue eyes filled with a wariness he didn’t understand.
“Nice to finally meet you,” she said quietly, her voice tinged with a defensive frost. After all, this was the same brother that had so brashly hurt Linc just a week earlier. Even though it appeared that current circumstances had forced the brothers to concede their differences, she still held some amount of reserve for the man who stood before her.
“Nice to meet you,” Grant replied, distracted as Quinn came up beside him. Avoiding looking at her, he turned instead to face his brother. “I suppose I’ll go let dad know.”
“Let mom do that,” Linc said distractedly, nodding to Quinn. “Thanks for bringing Lynette up here, Quinn.”
“You’re welcome.” Quinn bowed her head slightly, attempting a small smile for both Linc and Lynette. “I can tell she cares about you.”
Lynette blushed as Linc grinned. “I like to think so.”
Linc noticed curiously then that his brother chanced a glance down at his secretary, and when she looked up at him and met his eyes it was almost as though something passed between them, some kind of quiet spark that suggested intimacy, even if it was subtle. He knew his brother well enough to know that stuffy, cold, and dispassionate Grant never looked that way at his employees, much less his secretaries. Even the pretty blonde he’d had before Quinn had not garnered such a look.
Before Linc could bluntly ask the two of them to confirm his suspicions, Madison strolled towards them and reached out to touch both his and Grant’s arms.
“I’m afraid I need to steal my brothers away, girls,” she said smoothly, though there was an evident tartness to her tone. “There are arrangements that must be made. You understand.”
Grant nodded politely to Quinn, saying nothing as he let his sister pull him aside. She watched him go, equally as silent, as lost.
Linc pulled Lynette against him for a lingering kiss before releasing her. “I’ll call you when shit settles down, okay?”
“Try and keep your head above water,” Lynette advised, waving to him as Madison pulled him into her office and promptly shut the door.
Left in the hallway alone, Lynette and Quinn both let out heavy sighs and faced each other awkwardly.
“I picked a very turbulent time to get involved with the Vassers,” Lynette mused, attempting a smile.
Quinn laughed as the two of them began to walk together toward the elevators. “Me too, honey. Me too.”
That night he
called her, needing refuge.
When he showed up at her front door, darkness hollowing his features and his eyes sparking with vivid emotion, it took all she had to keep her knees from giving out from beneath her.
“Linc, are you-”
“No,” he muttered, shutting the door behind him swiftly and reaching for her, pulling her tight against him and burying his face in her hair. “Not tonight. I don’t want to talk, Lynette. I just needed you.”
Shaken, her hands snaked up his back and clutched at the shirt he wore, her lips parting in a quiet moan as he kissed the soft curve of her throat.
“Needed me?” she asked breathily, arching against him as he started tugging the straps of her dress over her shoulders, revealing the smooth, lightly freckled skin for him to taste.
“Mmm hmm.” His mouth continued to torture her, gaining a fevered momentum as he reached her mouth again, crushing it with his own. “God, life sucks. Except for you. Everything sucks except for you.”
“Spoken like a true romantic,” she said wryly, laughing as he suddenly scooped her up and carried her over to her plush sofa in shades of neutral beige and gray, much like the rest of her quaint apartment in Uptown. “And a Yankee to boot. Lord, my grandmother must be rolling over in her grave.”
He smiled down at her, blue eyes bright in the light of the dozens of candles she had lit. “I guess I’m just gonna have to show you the Yankee way, Lynette. To hell with grandma.”
“Oh, she’s probably there anyways. Crazy old biddy.”
He started laughing as he laid her down upon her sofa, sliding over her smoothly and meeting her eyes, marveling at her. “Where the hell have you been all my life?”
She returned the smile, her eyes softening as she reached up to gently cup his cheek.
“Does it matter?” she asked quietly, angling her head up to kiss him, teasing his lips with her own. “I’m here now.”
He gripped her wrist and held her closer, deepening the kiss. And as he lost himself in her, pushing aside all thoughts of his grandfather, his family, his hotel, the only thing he could do was thank God or fate or whatever it was that had brought her into his life.
She was the only solace he could find in the storm raging around him, like a lighthouse shining through the darkness of a violent hurricane.
And now that she was his, he was going to do everything within his power to make sure she stayed that way.
Later, they lay together on the carpeted floor of her living room, wrapped together and comfortable. She sighed as she trailed a hand down his bare chest, her eyes heavy and sultry in the candlelight as she looked up at him.
He turned his head and caught her staring and a quick grin flashed over his face. “What?”
Her lips curved slowly as she cuddled closer to him, her hand resting just over his heart.
“Nothing, just thinking.”
“About what?” he asked, his hand reaching up to lazily brush through her waves of copper hair.
Biting her bottom lip sweetly, she shook her head. “It’s stupid. You’ll just laugh at me.”
“Okay, now I have to hear it. Spill.”
“Okay, fine.” She sat up on her elbows so she could look down at him as she smiled again. “So I was listening to the radio the other day, and I heard this old song, one of my favorites, and it reminded me of you.”
“Okay, and?” He stared at her, eyebrows raised.
“Well, it’s this classic country love song, that’s why you’ll think it’s stupid,” she admitted, laughing at herself and blushing at the look he gave her. “But I don’t know, something about it put your face in my mind as I heard it.”
“How does it go?”
“Oh, Lord, I can’t sing, Linc. Don’t ask me to.” She laughed again, feeling foolish. “I’ll tell you what he said though, in the song. The part that made me think of you.”
When he only smiled at her, she continued. “He said ‘
You’re not just time that I’m killing, I’m no longer one of those guys
.’” She shrugged, avoiding his eyes when he only continued to look at her, processing her words. “I guess I just hoped that was how you felt, and that I could prove my mother wrong about you.”