A Convenient Proposal

He was uncomfortable, if not embarrassed by the compliment, Candy realised in amazement He was easily the most devastatingly attractive man for miles around and he was actually embarrassed because she had said she liked his haircut.

It was at that moment an unexpected quiver ran through her, a subtle stirring of her blood that made her tingle in all her intimate places. She lowered her eyes to her coffee mug and drained it before saying briskly, 'Another coffee?'

'Thanks.'

He had settled back on his stool, perched on the other side of the breakfast bar, after pushing his empty mug towards her, and he actually cleared his throat before saying, 'The thing is, Candy, I need a favour.'

'Yes?' She poured two more coffees, pushed his towards him, but remained where she was in the kitchen. 'What can I do for you?'

What could she do for him? Quinn's eyes were inscrutable as he stared into the lovely face opposite him. She looked about sixteen this morning, with that glorious hair tied back in a high shining ponytail and her beautiful face scrubbed clean of make-up, but there was nothing adolescent about that luscious figure. She was one hell of a woman.

A muscle worked in his jaw. And maybe this wasn't such a good idea? But it was too late now; he'd said too much. His thoughts caused his voice to be abrupt as he said, 'I need you to pretend to be my girlfriend for the evening.'

Her eyes widened; her mouth partly opened. Whatever she had imagined it wasn't this. 'You need…'

'Look, let me explain.' His hand went to his hair again and then he gave an impatient click of his teeth. 'This is a relatively small town, and the social scene isn't the hottest in the world, but as the resident vet I get invited to quite a few parties and dinners, that sort of thing. And as a bachelor I always seem to be the target for predatory females, or worse—predatory mothers with daughters they are desperate to offload. Get the picture?'

She nodded even as she thought, It's not because he's a bachelor, or not just that anyway. Quinn would always draw women—predatory or otherwise.

'Don't get me wrong, I'm more than able to fend off any attacks,' he said with wry humour, 'and I've always made it clear I'm not the marrying kind. However, there's one lady who is more persistent than most and it's got kind of embarrassing. You aren't interested in any kind of permanent relationship at the moment, right?'

She nodded somewhat dazedly.

'And we're friends. Right again?' he said persuasively.

Oh, no, no, he wasn't going to use that to manoeuvre her into a corner, was he? It appeared he was.

'So…'

'So?'

'So you don't know anyone here yet; there's no bosom friend to know you'd be acting a part and it would be the easiest thing in the world to help me out.' He eyed her wary face. 'I'd do the same for you,' he added compellingly.

He might do. He very well might do. But whereas she obviously left him stone-cold, he didn't have the same effect on her hormones, Candy told herself crossly.

'And it'd be a great way for you to meet some of the locals. All work and no play…'

She stared at him. 'What, exactly, would this play-acting involve, Quinn?' she asked directly.

Good question. In the intervening weeks since he had last seen her he had forgotten—or perhaps he should say he had tried to forget—just how beautiful she was. 'Exactly what you want it to,' he said evenly.

Ball back in her court again. She took a big gulp of coffee, glanced towards the window, and then at Tabitha, who appeared to be listening intently to all that was being said from her vantage point at the entrance into the kitchen area and was ignoring her charges for once, and tried desperately to sort out the wheat from the chaff.

The last thing she wanted was a romantic involvement of any kind, but Quinn was totally in agreement on that score. He had been nothing but kindness since she'd arrived, and just great over the affair with Tabitha and the kittens. She did owe him. And if she was totally honest she had been getting a little bored the last week or two. She loved the cottage and this life, she qualified hastily, she really did, but a little social intercourse wouldn't come amiss. And in her role of Quinn's girlfriend she wouldn't have to worry about any man getting the wrong impression.

She could enjoy herself, meet all the local folk and relax knowing they knew she was already 'spoken for'. Everything to gain and nothing to lose. She wasn't cut out to be a total hermit. The thought brought a silent smile to her lips. She was still smiling as her eyes focused on Quinn's dark face again, and she said, her voice quiet but steady, 'Of course if I can help out at all I'd be happy to, Quinn, and it would be nice to meet your friends and acquaintances.'

'Excellent.'

Excellent, he'd said. So why, in the last minute or two, did he feel as though he had made a mistake? Quinn asked himself silently. He had been quite truthful regarding Joanna Embleton-White. The woman had become a perfect menace, following him about and even cornering him at Colonel Llewellyn's party the week before. She was shameless. But it wasn't Joanna who had prompted the suggestion that Candy accompany him to Meg Andrews' dinner; it was more his promise to Essie that he would try and draw Candy into the social scene as soon as he could. Essie had been worried Candy would shut herself away.

And that was the only reason? His promise to Essie? The snide little voice at the back of his mind was challenging. He hadn't used the promise as a means to an end because he wanted to be with Candy? it asked baldly. Come on, who was he trying to fool?

'Where is this…?'

'Dinner. It's a dinner,' Quinn said quickly, 'at Meg Andrews' house. She's a solicitor, and one of the local big fish in this particular little pool, but a very nice lady for all that You'll like her. I'll pick you up next Saturday evening at round about eight, if that suits?'

'Fine.' Candy finished her coffee. 'Formal dress?'