A Convenient Proposal

But she was too damn gorgeous for half the blokes round here to take that into consideration. His eyes narrowed on the road ahead as the surge of anger—he wouldn't allow himself to regard it as jealousy—that had burnt on and off all evening reared its head again at the memory of how it had been. The men had been sniffing round her all evening, damn 'em, and that was when she'd had the protection of being his girlfriend. What would it have been like if they'd known the truth? They had had all the finesse of rutting stags.

He found he was gripping the steering wheel with considerably more force than was necessary, and made a conscious decision to relax, taking several deep, silent breaths before he said, 'I should have checked with you before I accepted any other invitations though, Candy, especially in view of the fact that you might be spending Christmas at home?'

'Home?' Home was the cottage, with Tabitha and the kittens, and it was a second or two before it registered he meant Canada.

'Oh, no, I shan't be going home,' she said quickly. 'There's the cats to consider now.'

He could offer to board the cat and kittens at the practice for her but he didn't. What he did say was, 'In that case spend Christmas with me?'

He felt sorry for her, was that it? She thought about how he had remained at her side all evening rather than circulating, as most of the others had done, his arm round her waist for a good deal of the time and his manner if not possessive than certainly protective. Yes, he felt sorry for her. 'I don't think so,' she said pleasantly. 'I'm sure you're going to be very busy and I was looking forward to a quiet Christmas Day this year.'

'I don't think it will be a riot at my house,' he said with wry amusement.

'But you must have family to visit and so on?'

Should he tell her his parents were coming down to stay for a couple of days? His mother had been insistent that he have a decently cooked Christmas lunch when they'd discussed the holiday the last time he had popped up to Oxford in October, and it had been easier—certainly on his father, who bore the brunt of his mother's fretting and worrying— to invite them. But Candy would probably feel she was intruding if he said anything.

'I'm not visiting anyone,' Quinn said briskly, 'apart from the odd emergency patient, that is. They always crop up, Christmas or no Christmas, but Bob and Jamie are on the rota too, so it shouldn't be too disruptive. You can bring Tabitha and the kittens if you like. The dogs are perfectly accustomed to everything that crawls, walks, flutters or flies; they won't hurt them.'

'Thank you, but I don't think—'

'I would like you to come, Candy,' Quinn said very quietly.

Their eyes met for the briefest of moments as he turned his head to look at her, but it was enough to silence her protest and send hot colour surging into her cheeks.

He heard her draw a quick breath, and then her voice came as quietly as his when she said, 'All right, if you're sure.'

Sure? He was beginning to think he wasn't sure about anything, and he didn't like that He didn't like it at all.

Candy had left a light on in the cottage, and the little glow from behind the curtains was welcoming as Quinn drew into the space beside the Fiesta.

'Would you like a coffee?' She had pondered all the way home on whether to ask.

'Some other time,' Quinn said evenly, 'but I'll just make 'ire everything's okay before I go.'

'Okay?' She had felt the refusal of coffee was a rebuff in some way—she couldn't quite pin it down but there'd been something in his manner she hadn't liked—and now her voice was curt when she said, 'Why wouldn't it be okay? We've only been gone a few hours.'

'I don't know.' Quinn shrugged easily. 'Alfie wrecking the joint, something like that?'

'I don't need nursemaiding, Quinn.'

'I shall still see you to the door.' There was a touch of brusqueness in his voice and it startled her. 'I would do the same for any woman I was with so cut the touchiness.'

'Touchy? I'm not touchy,' Candy protested vehemently as Quinn opened his door.

He ignored her, walking round to the passenger side and opening her door without speaking, his face distant and cold.

'I am not touchy,' she repeated firmly when she was standing beside the car. 'It's just that I used to be on my own for huge amounts of time when I lived with Xavier and he was away on business. It doesn't worry me coming home to an empty house.'

'Good.' His voice was without expression and his face gave nothing away, and she stared at him for a moment, irritation vying with resentment. Why she let him get under her skin like this she didn't know, Candy thought crossly, her soft mouth tightening. And why she had promised to accompany him even one more time—let alone spend Christmas Day with him—she knew even less!

He took her arm as they walked towards the front door and she had to force herself not to jerk away, but his jibe had bitten deep and she was blowed if she was going to give him an excuse to repeat it.

Once she had opened the front door Quinn made a quick reconnoitre of the cottage and then returned to the threshold, where Candy was still standing, her hand on her hip and her face expressing resigned patience. 'Any mad men hiding under the bed or crazed psychopaths in the bathroom?' she asked sweetly.

He stared at her for one long moment and then he leant back against the open door, folding his arms across his chest and surveying her from under dark brows. 'You don't trust someone looking out for you, do you?' he stated softly. 'Why not?'

'What?' Her calm aplomb vanished in an instant.