Stroke of Luck

She drew in a breath, then straightened her back, easing away from him.

“But it’s okay. I’ll be fine. I’ll figure something out.”

Part of him wanted to convince himself she was playing the martyr to see if he’d jump in and rescue her. But he couldn’t quite manage it.

“How?” he demanded gently.

She stood up and paced. “I don’t know. Not yet. Maybe I’ll get a job at the hotel.”

“I’m not sure they need a graphic designer. Maybe you could get a job waiting tables or cleaning rooms, but only if you’ve done it before. This is a high-end hotel. They want someone with experience. And even if you do get a job,” he said gently, “how will you find somewhere to live without first and last month’s rent?”

Her expression crumpled. She stopped pacing and faced him.

“Quinn, what do you expect me to say? I’m trying to stay positive, and you’re not making that easy.”

“I’m not trying to make it easy. I just want you to understand the reality of your situation.”

Which was pretty dismal right now.

Anger flared in her blue eyes. “You don’t think I know? Not only do I have no money, no job, and nowhere to live, I also have to figure out how to pay you back for my hotel bill.”

He frowned. “I keep telling you, that’s not an issue. I don’t want you to pay me back.”

“What you want and what I want are in complete opposition,” she said, her eyes blazing. “You don’t necessarily win.”

Why the hell did she cling to the pipe dream of paying him back? Unless she assumed she’d find a rich husband and pay Quinn with that sucker’s money.

That thought triggered the emotional upheaval simmering below the surface.

Anger flared. More likely, she was just trying to convince him that she was reliable and honest so she could get under his skin again. She’d been doing an amazingly good job of that.

His jaw clenched. “Get this straight,” he said between gritted teeth. “I don’t want your money.”

* * *

April’s eyes widened at the cold glint in Quinn’s eyes.

She had dropped her guard because he’d been so compassionate. When he’d held her in his arms, she’d felt cared for. Protected.

It had felt wonderful.

Until he’d poked at her precarious attempt to remain optimistic. Then everything had collapsed around her, leaving her stomach in a total state of chaos. And now he’d made it crystal clear that he would not allow her to repay her debt to him.

Her stomach coiled tighter. She needed to pay him back. Somehow, she had to find a way. She had to be able to stand on her own two feet, or how could she ever make it on her own?

She dragged her gaze from his and sighed. Right now, though, she had to worry about the immediate future. She had somewhere to sleep tonight, but tomorrow would come all too soon.

She stared at her hands. In his harshly spoken words, he’d told her he didn’t want anything from her, but she knew that wasn’t quite true, and that gave her an idea. One she didn’t savor, but it might be her only way out.

She moved closer to him, standing facing him while he sat gazing up at her.

“Fine. You want me to face facts,” she said, trying to keep her voice even. “The fact is I’m in trouble, and I have no one to turn to.” She shifted her gaze to his again. “Except you.”

He raised an eyebrow and waited.

“I need to ask for your help. I hate it, but I don’t know what else to do. I don’t want to be out on the street tomorrow, and I really need to pay you back somehow. If you won’t discuss money, then I have another idea that might appeal to you.”

“And what’s that?”