* * *
Quinn was waiting for her in the library, as he had been that morning. She paused, watching him from the doorway. The table by the French doors was formally set, complete with flowers, Paige noted with a touch of bitterness. There were two fluted glasses and a wine-bucket on Quinn’s desk. The lights were low, and yes, as she’d expected, there was music—a Rachmaninov concerto, playing softly in the background. The perfect seduction scene, she told herself… and then Quinn rose to his feet and turned to face her.
Her heart rose to her throat. How could she hate him and still feel this way when she saw him? He was dressed as he’d been when they’d met, in a dinner suit and ruffled shirt. His eyes blazed as they swept over her. He was so beautiful… like a lion in his prime.
A quick smile tilted at his mouth. ‘Good evening,’ he said softly.
‘Good evening.’ She looked at him again, her eyes lingering on his, and she flushed. ‘I’m sorry I took so long, but…’
‘It was worth the waiting. You look beautiful, Paige.’
The flush deepened. ‘Thank you. But it’s not me, it’s this dress you bought.’
‘Would you like some champagne?’
‘No. I mean, yes, thank you, I would.’
Champagne would make what would happen next easier, she thought, watching as he opened the bottle with expert ease. Wasn’t wine supposed to make you giddy and dull your senses? She took the glass he held out to her, smiling stiffly.
‘Norah’s left us quite a feast. It’s all waiting for us. Whenever you’re re
ady…’
Whenever you’re ready. ‘Not yet,’ she said quickly. Too quickly. Quinn looked at her, one eyebrow raised appraisingly. ‘I… I’d like some more champagne first,’ she said, tilting the glass to her lips and draining the pale gold liquid. ‘It’s very good.’
He smiled as he refilled her glass. ‘You’re supposed to sip it,’ he said.
‘Does it matter? Just so long as…’
His face darkened. ‘Ah,’ he said softly, ‘now I understand. Just so long as you get drunk, hmm?’
‘Look, Quinn… what do you think you’re doing?’
‘Taking the champagne from you. I don’t want you sick to your stomach, Paige. We’ll have dinner, and…’
‘No, of course you don’t want me sick,’ she said bitterly. ‘Not tonight.’
Quinn’s arm slid lightly around her waist. ‘Not any night,’ he said mildly, as he led her to the table. ‘The last time I helped someone who was drunk I didn’t do much of a job of it.’
‘The mighty Quinn Fowler, not good at something?’ Paige laughed sharply as he served her. ‘I can hardly believe my ears. Whoever told you that must have been lying.’
He smiled. ‘Alan’s the one who said it. It was years ago, just before I left home. We were both—well, let’s say we weren’t feeling any pain. Alan was twelve, and he’d drunk the best part of a six-pack…’ He shook his head at the memory. ‘Damn, but he was plastered.’
Paige’s eyes flashed indignation. ‘No wonder your parents tossed you out,’ she said. ‘Getting a twelve-year-old boy drunk on beer, and then laughing about it…’
‘Sorry, but I can’t take credit for it. Little brother got bombed all on his own. He was out with some buddies of his, and he came sneaking in just after I got back from a friend’s wedding.’ He glanced at her. ‘Didn’t he ever tell you this story?’
Paige shook her head. ‘No,’ she said slowly, thinking of how little Alan and she had ever really shared with each other. ‘No, he didn’t.’
Quinn nodded. ‘Probably too embarrassed,’ he said with a smile. ‘Not that it was so awful—he was just a kid, experimenting, wanting to be an adult before he knew that adults just want to be kids. We shared a bathroom and—well, let’s just say I heard him being ill. Of course, I went to help him.’ He grinned at the memory. ‘Trouble was, my stomach wasn’t any too solid at that moment. So when I saw what was happening to Alan…’ He laughed and shook his head. ‘When my mother found us, she was furious.’
It was hard not to smile. ‘Yes, I can imagine. What did she do? Send you both to your rooms?’
Quinn’s smile faded. ‘That’s what she did with Alan. As for me—I was a little too old to be sent to my room.’ He lay down his knife and fork and pushed back his chair. ‘So my old man did the next best thing. He told me to leave.’
Paige looked at him blankly. ‘Leave? But you hadn’t done anything.’
‘That depends on your point of view. I can’t believe Alan didn’t tell you any of this. It was pretty upsetting to him.’