His Blackmailed Bride

She put her hands to the neck of the gown, but he pushed them away. ‘What does it look like?’ His voice was rough. ‘I’m helping you dress.’

Paige shook her head. ‘No,’ she whispered as he slid the gown off her shoulders. ‘Quinn, don’t. I don’t need any help. I…’

The gown fell to her waist. ‘Yes, you do, damn you,’ he growled. ‘Now, stop arguing and…’

She looked up as his words died away. His eyes swept across her, to her throat, to her breasts, and then his gaze returned to her face.

‘Paige,’ he whispered. His hand touched the curve of her breast and she closed her eyes.

‘Don’t,’ she said sharply.

‘Paige,’ he said again, ‘listen to me.’

She shook her head and pushed his hand from her. ‘No,’ she said. What was he trying to do? Was he trying to prove his mastery of her body? But they both knew about that; it was what had brought them down this dark pathway in the first place. ‘The nurse can help me. Not you.’

Blood darkened his face. ‘I’m still your husband,’ he growled. ‘Now, lift your arms.’

‘Quinn, please…’

His eyes blazed into hers. ‘Do as I say, Paige.’

She closed her eyes as he eased something silky over her head. He drew it down her body and his hands brushed over her skin.

‘Quinn, I beg you…’

The words caught in her throat. The last time she’d said that to him, the plea had come back to haunt her with a pain she would never be able to erase. She would never beg him for anything again, she told herself, and she sat still while he stripped away the gown and dressed her, not in the inexpensive

clothing she’d worn, but in the soft silks and cashmeres he’d bought her the day after their wedding. His hands trembled as they touched her. She trembled, too; it was impossible not to feel the heat of his fingers on her flesh. His eyes caught hers, and she flushed and looked away.

‘Does it hurt that much to feel my hands on you, Juliet?’

She stared at him. ‘Does it… Does it hurt?’

Quinn clasped her shoulders. ‘Yes. When I touch you… Do you hate me so much?’

A sob rose in her throat. ‘Hate you?’ Paige caught her bottom lip between her teeth. ‘Oh, Quinn…’

No. No more. Don’t say anything, don’t tell him anything, don’t add to the anguish and the humiliation you’ll have to live with for the rest of your life…

His hands pressed into her. ‘Sweet, sweet Juliet,’ he murmured. ‘My Juliet…’

‘Don’t!’ It was a cry torn from her heart, and all the pain of the past months was caught within it. ‘Don’t,’ she said again, and the whisper hung between them. ‘Please, Quinn, if… if you ever thought anything good of me, if there was so much as a moment between us that mattered to you, let go of me.’

‘Paige…’

She shook her head wildly. ‘Just… just get out of here and leave me alone. I wish they hadn’t sent for you. I…’

‘Max called me.’

She raised her tear-swollen eyes to his. ‘Max?’

Quinn nodded. ‘The jeweller.’ A quick smile came and went on his mouth. ‘Sweet Juliet,’ he said, stroking the hair back from her temples. ‘Of all the jewellers in London, you went to the one who was bound to recognise that ring.’

Paige shook her head. ‘I don’t understand.’

‘Max is the man who sold it to me.’ He laughed softly at the look of surprise that flashed across her face. ‘I bought it from him on impulse a couple of years ago. I was walking past his shop and I saw it in the window. It was the strangest damned thing—I don’t like wearing jewellery, yet I knew I had to have that ring. There was something in the ruby’s heart that drew me, a fire that burned with a heat like none I’d ever felt before—until I met you.’

His hands cupped her face and he looked into her eyes. His voice was so soft, it was a caress. What was he trying to do? Paige knew what he thought of her. He’d told her, often enough.