A Convenient Proposal

'Come on, come and see the rest of it,' he said coolly, holding out a commanding hand as he turned to face her again in the open doorway.

He was so in control, so unaffected by her… She forced her shaking legs to totter over to him and took the hand he offered. But she had turned him on more than once in the past, she knew it, and she would do it again if it killed her.

The farmhouse staircase was more suited to a Hollywood movie than anything else, but as Candy climbed the huge winding and very gracious steps to the galleried landing above, she was quite oblivious to her surroundings.

What should she say when they went into their bedroom? she asked herself feverishly. Or perhaps she wouldn't need to say anything at all? When he started to make love to her again she would let her mouth and her hands speak for her. Quinn was a sensual, passionate man; his virility clothed him like a dark aura. He had already said he found her beautiful and sexy. It would be all right. It would be all right.

'There are the nursery quarters and two bedrooms on the second floor above,' Quinn drawled easily when they reached the landing, 'but they will wait until tomorrow. These are guest bedrooms, all with their own en suite—' he opened three doors in quick succession to show her massive bedrooms beautifully furnished and each with a separate colour scheme '—and this is the master bedroom.'

This time he indicated for Candy to precede him into the vast, high-ceilinged room, which was decorated in silver and a deep violet-blue, and she saw their holiday luggage— which she had assumed was in the Aston Martin—was already in situ and must have been brought over earlier in the day.

'What a truly incredible house,' Candy breathed softly as her eyes roamed the lovely room. 'Your friend's a very lucky man to have found a place like this.'

'He's thinking of selling it, actually.' Quinn was leaning against the open door, his arms folded across his chest and his dark eyes watching her. 'He spends most of his time in the States now, and his wife and children get tired of seeing him once in a blue moon.'

'Really?' She turned to face him. 'But who on earth would be able to afford somewhere like this?'

The black eyes were contemplative as he said lazily, his tone matter-of-fact, 'Me, actually. If you like the thought of living here permanently, that is. There's an indoor swimming pool built on in an annexe at the back of the kitchen and a pretty well-equipped gym. It would be no trouble to extend a little further and add a studio.'

'You could buy this place?' she asked, her voice high. And then, realising how rude her amazement sounded, she added hastily, 'What I mean is—'

'I know what you mean.' He didn't sound at all offended.

'I was left some money, a large amount of money, when I was younger, and Matt, the guy who lives here, invested a substantial amount for me—very wisely, as it happens. It grew, I played the stock exchange now and again, with Matt's guidance, and perhaps perversely—because I didn't care much if I won or lost—everything I touched turned to gold.'

'But…' She stared at him, her lovely blue eyes puzzled. 'If you could afford somewhere like this why did you move in over the practice when you bought it? And why work as a vet at all?'

'To answer your last question first, I like it. I trained for it. It was tough, but I got through, and it satisfies something deep inside,' he said steadily.

She nodded slowly. Yes, she could understand that if she made a billion tomorrow she would still paint.

'As to why I moved into the flat—why not?' He shrugged as he straightened up from the door. 'I was a bachelor again, and intending to remain so. When Laura and Joe died I went through a bad patch—' the hard mouth tightened '—and I dropped out of life for a time. You can do that when you've got money.' It was cynical and self-derisive, but before she could say anything he continued, 'And then I started working as a vet again and it was my salvation. I needed it So in the back of my mind I began to think it might be good to get my own practice again, like I had in Oxford when I was married. I travelled around a bit in my spare time to see the sort of area I'd like to live in—I was tired of the big cities—and then I answered Essie's advertisement for a vet The rest, as they say, is history.'

She stared at him. 'Why didn't you tell me you were so wealthy before?' she asked quietly, her even tone masking the hurt. He played all his cards so close to his chest; she really didn't know this man at all. But he wasn't just a man, was he? He was her husband.

'Does it matter?'

His voice was so calm it was an insult, and her heart began to beat erratically as she realised just how little he had revealed about himself during the time she had known him. Every time she thought she was getting the tiniest bit close he let her know she still had miles—a lifetime—to go.

'I think so, yes.' She raised her chin slightly but her eyes didn't flicker as she continued to stare into his. 'I know this marriage is one of convenience, but there has to be a foundation of trust at least,' she said levelly, wondering where the strength and control was coming from to speak so matter-of-factly when she was so churned up inside.

His eyes held hers for an infinitesimal moment longer, and then he jammed his hands into his pockets, the action showing her he wasn't so calm as he would like her to believe. 'Point taken.'

She hoped so, but she doubted it. He clearly envisaged they would be two people living under the same roof but engaging in separate lives. Well, that wasn't altogether his fault, but there was no time like the present to start chipping away at that formidable steel coating he had put on his emotions.

'Good.'

She managed a fairly normal smile, which froze as Quinn said, 'Is there anything you need before you turn in?'

It wasn't so much the words themselves but the way he had spoken—that and the fact that he was already stepping backwards into the hall, his hand on the door to pull it shut.

'Yes… No! I—' She stopped abruptly, trying to gather her scattered wits. He couldn't be saying what she suspected he was saying, could he?

He could.

'Try and get a good night's sleep; it's been an exhausting day,' Quinn said evenly, and then quietly closed the door, leaving her alone.

CHAPTER NINE