CHAPTER TEN
THE LIBRARY was cool. A fire burned on the hearth, but the chill breath of the grey day had seeped into the room. Huddled in one of the wing chairs, staring into the dancing flames as she sipped a cup of bitter coffee, Paige tried to make sense out of what Quinn had said.
I want things settled.
She thought what had happened between them last night had done that.
We slept together.
But what they’d shared had been more than sex. Quinn knew that—he had to know it. Everything they’d done together last night, the wildly sweet hours of touching and kissing and learning, had been special.
Hadn’t it?
Don’t try to make more of it than that.
Her hand trembled as she put the cup down. Was that what she’d done?
She rose from the chair and walked to the French doors. What did she know of lovemaking? she thought as she drew aside the curtains and looked out at the rainswept garden. She had only the most limited experience. Maybe… maybe it was always supposed to be the way it had been last night.
Paige let the curtains fall into place. Not even she could believe that. She was inexperienced, but she was no fool. There was good sex and there was bad sex, just as there were good lovers and bad ones. And Quinn—Quinn was a skilled lover, a virile, handsome man in the prime of life. He knew how to please a woman. God, yes, he knew.
Don’t make more of it…
She’d spent the night in his arms, but he’d never once said, I love you. He’d called her his sweet Juliet, he’d told of the pleasure she gave him, of how much he wanted her, but what did that mean when you compared it to the simple words he’d never uttered?
Paige sank into the chair and stared into the fire. Suppose she’d only been kidding herself? Suppose, under all the laughter and the easy camaraderie, Quinn had never stopped hating her? What a special torture there would be in using her heart as well as her body.
When you want a man, I’ll be there.
She remembered the night he’d made that cruel promise. But they’d both said things designed to hurt that night.
Last night, he’d thought she wanted Jack Ward.
She sprang to her feet. ‘No!’
Her whisper trembled in the silent room. That was insane. If that were it, he’d have taken her callously. But he’d been tender and caring; he’d spent hours kissing her and touching her until she’d trembled in his arms and begged for release.
I’ll make love to you until you beg me to stop. And then I’ll be free of you.
She gasped for breath, as if all the air had been suddenly drawn from the room. What was the matter with her? Quinn cared for her. She knew he did. Not just because of the way he’d made love to her; that was part of it, yes, but there were other things. They’d been happy together the past weeks. They’d gone places and done things and laughed and talked…
But never about what had brought them together. When she’d tried, Quinn had cut her short, and she hadn’t forced the issue. Why run the risk of spoiling things? she’d told herself, just as she’d told herself they didn’t have to talk about the past because they’d left it behind.
But that wasn’t true. You never really left the past; the best you could do was hope to understand it. Then you could build a future.
Paige let out her breath slowly. That’s what Quinn had meant when he’d said they had things to settle. Her heart lifted. Of course! She understood—and he was right. Making love, even falling in love, couldn’t change the awful reason for their marriage. They had to talk about Alan and her father. Then they’d be free to begin their life together at last.
She was Mrs Quinn Fowler. Paige Fowler. Her lips turned up in a smile. Funny, she’d never let herself think that way before, but that was who she was. That was who she wanted to be. She was Quinn’s wife…
The peal of the doorbell startled her. Paige sighed and walked through the entrance hall to the front door. Norah was back early, she thought. The rain had probably done it. Norah’s sister lived far across London, two bus rides with a transfer between them, and on a day like this the buses were always late and the queues long.
‘Did you forget your key, Norah?’ Paige smiled as she opened the door. ‘I’m glad you’re back; I was just going to make myself a cup of tea…’ Her words tumbled to a halt as she saw the tall, fair-haired figure on the doorstep. ‘Father?’ she said in disbelief.
Andrew Gardiner’s expression was bleak. ‘Hello, Paige. May I come in?’
She stared at him, and then she nodded and stepped aside. ‘Yes, yes, of course. I’m just…’ She caught her breath as the door shut behind him. ‘Is something wrong at home? Is Mother…’
‘Your mother’s fine.’