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His Blackmailed Bride

Page 36

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He shrugged. ‘What’s a father for?’ he asked lightly. ‘Besides, I paid back every cent within five years—at three per cent over the rate.’

She laughed softly. ‘I can imagine how that must have felt. As if you’d… you’d climbed Everest or gone to the moon or…’

Quinn’s eyes met hers. ‘That’s how it felt, all right.’

‘And now—are you and your father any closer?’

He grinned. ‘Like a cat and a mouse. No, that’s not true. Things are better between us. I let him make it sound as if my success was his. He laughed about throwing me out years before, and about the terms of our loan—he said he’d just been trying to shock me into succeeding. My mother went along with it—I guess that was easier than facing the truth.’

She waited for him to continue, but he said nothing. ‘Have you any regrets?’ she asked finally. ‘I mean, do you ever miss home?’

Quinn laughed. ‘This is my home,’ he said, making a broad gesture that she knew included more than the house. ‘I’ve been back to the States on business, but I hadn’t been in Connecticut in years. Not until Alan called and told me about…’

His face changed, closed in on itself. For a few minutes, they had both forgotten the reason they’d met. Now, looking at him, Paige knew their fragile peace had been shattered.

‘You’re a woman of many talents,’ he said softly. ‘I never would have dreamed you could do such a credible job of pretending to listen to a story that isn’t terribly interesting.’

‘I wasn’t pretending,’ she said quickly. ‘And it was interesting. It explains things about you.’

He put down his champagne-glass. ‘What things?’

‘Just—things. I mean, you’re so different from Alan.’

It had been the wrong thing to say. She could see it in the sudden tilt of his head.

‘That’s right, Paige,’ he murmured,

taking the glass from her nerveless fingers. ‘I’m nothing like my brother.’

Her heart hammered crazily. ‘Quinn, please…’

‘Is this how you strung him along, Paige? Cosy chit-chat, questions about his childhood…’

‘That’s not what I was doing.’

‘I’m not that easily distracted.’ His lips drew away from his teeth. ‘And I’m not half as patient.’

‘Quinn…’

‘If I put my ring on a woman’s finger, I expect to make love to her.’

How could he change so quickly? Paige stared at his angry face. Moments ago, she’d glimpsed the man she’d met at the Hunt Club Ball. Now, he was someone else, dark and frightening.

‘Don’t,’ she whispered.

But it was too late. He had already drawn her into his arms. ‘You’re wearing my wedding ring,’ he said softly. ‘Now, what do you think that means?’ Her pulse leaped as his eyes swept over her. ‘Hell,’ he said, ‘I’ve waited too long as it is.’

‘No…’

He gathered her to him and his mouth descended on hers, muffled her cry. She felt the bite of his teeth, the thrust of his tongue, as she stood rigid within his angry embrace.

‘Come on,’ he growled. ‘Don’t play games with me.’

Tears glistened in her eyes. Quinn stared at her, and then he muttered an oath.

‘Don’t cry,’ he said roughly. ‘Juliet…’

The name brought with it a sweet rush of memories. He had remembered, too. She saw it in the way he looked at her. And then the pulsing brightness in the sea-depths of his eyes dulled, and she knew that although she had remembered a moment of magic, he had remembered treachery.



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