by Laura Iding
The waiter disappeared, leaving them alone again.
She sneaked a glance at his handsome, chiseled features. His white shirt and black trousers with the charcoal-gray coat looked elegant on him. What was she doing here with a man like Quinn? He dressed as if he posed as a magazine cover model. He was so different from George, and not just because her husband had been a few years older and had preferred the typical professor tweed. They were different in almost every single way.
She stared through the window at the red and green lights reflected on the water. They didn’t even have their meal yet. What on earth would they talk about during the next hour? She couldn’t begin to imagine.
She was tempted to finish off her wine in one large gulp. “I guess I’m out of practice,” she said with a sigh.
“No, it’s not that.” Quinn reached over to take her hand in his large brown one. His thumb stroked the back of her hand, sending shivers up her arm. “You’re thinking too much.”
Thinking at all was nearly impossible with him touching her. But she refused to let him distract her. “It’s no use, Quinn. This was a very nice gesture, but I think it’s rather obvious we don’t have anything in common.”
“You don’t think so?” He tightened his grip on her hand, urging her to meet his gaze. “Quierda, you’re wrong. We have this in common.” He lifted his other hand, displaying the fine tremor. “See what you do to me with a mere look?”
She swallowed hard, trying to tug her hand from his. “There has to be more than this,” she whispered.
“Do you feel anything remotely like this with anyone else?” he demanded, his impatience taking the form of arrogance. “Well? Do you?”
Slowly she shook her head.
“It’s the same for me,” he said, in a low urgent voice. “I haven’t felt anything like this for a woman in a long time.”
“Just because you’re lonely—” she began.
“No.” He cut her off abruptly. “This isn’t loneliness and you know it. There is something palpable between us. I don’t understand. Why do you insist on pretending this chemistry, this complete awareness we share doesn’t exist?”
“Because I don’t want it to exist.” Irritated, she pulled her hand away, nearly spilling what was left of her wine. She knew it was a mistake to come here with him. He was a man who was far too accustomed to getting his way. “Lust is overrated,” she said, wishing at the moment she really believed it.
She knew in her head that lust was an empty feeling, something that would burn away quickly, leaving nothing but regrets behind, but at the moment her traitorous body was trying to convince her otherwise.
“No, Leila, I disagree. Love is the complication neither of us needs. I want you, Leila. Very much. We’re two uninvolved, consenting adults and I promise to be discreet.” He leaned closer, as if he wanted to reach all the way over to kiss her. “Tell me, what is so wrong with exploring the possibility of an affair?”
CHAPTER SIX
AFFAIR? Leila stared at Quinn, half suspecting he was teasing, testing her reaction. Yet the intensity of his gaze warned her he was dead serious. She snapped her mouth closed, realizing she was gaping at him.
In all her thirty-four years no man had ever offered to have an affair with her.
She couldn’t believe it was happening now. And she couldn’t believe she was tempted, even for a moment, to drown caution in the lake by taking him up on his ridiculous offer.
“Thanks, but I think I’ll pass.” Coward, the devil on her shoulder hissed.
He merely quirked a brow, tilting his head as if she were some unknown specimen he was curious about. “Would you mind telling me why?”
Why? Wasn’t it obvious? She had no idea what had happened to Danny’s mother but Quinn’s comment about love being a complication led her to believe he didn’t miss her, at least not in the same way she missed George. She didn’t know if she could have sex with someone without being in a relationship. And a relationship with Quinn would be trouble. A fact she knew with every nerve in her body.
Yet her heart beat rapidly in her chest, betraying her interest in Quinn on a personal level. She did her best to ignore her physical reaction to him. “Because I’m not the sort of woman who jumps heedlessly into an affair.” She mentally winced at her prim tone.
Thankfully, the waiter showed up at that moment with their salads. Avoiding Quinn’s gaze, she waited as the waiter ground fresh pepper over hers before picking up her fork.
“This looks delicious,” she murmured, as if they hadn’t been calmly discussing an affair a few moments earlier.
“Absolutely,” he agreed, although his eyes weren’t on his food. Instead, they seemed to cling to her face. She wished he’d stop staring at her like that.
Deciding she didn’t have to speak as long as her mouth was full of food, she dug into her salad, even though she wasn’t exactly hungry. Her stomach was knotted up with tension, the same feeling she’d always had around Quinn from the first moment she’d met him.
A few days ago she’d thought he was an arrogant jerk. Now she wasn’t sure what to think. He was still arrogant. Arrogant and persistent. Obtuse. Defiantly obtuse.
“Tell me, Leila, exactly what sort of woman does agree to an affair?” he asked between bites. “One who believes sex is immoral?”
She momentarily closed her eyes. Why didn’t he just drop the subject? “I never said that.”
“Ah, so it’s just an affair with me that you object to?” He continued speaking as if discussing the possibility of having sex was an everyday topic for dinner conversation. “I don’t believe you’re prejudiced against my mixture of Spanish and Italian blood, since you’re not even certain what nationality you are. Maybe it’s because of Danny? Do you think I should stop living my life because I’m a single man raising a son?”
“Quinn, please. You must know that’s not true either.” She swallowed a sigh, trying not to show her rising frustration. “Can’t you just accept the fact that we’re colleagues and that’s all? This was supposed to be a friendly dinner. Stop trying to make it into something more.”
He stared at her for a long moment and finally gave a regal nod of his head, agreeing to her wishes. And then, just as smoothly, he asked about where she’d completed her residency program.
Grateful to be back on a safe topic, she found herself relaxing enough to enjoy the rest of the meal as they compared medical school and residency stories. Of course he’d gone to Yale, while she’d attended the University of Madison, but the differences didn’t seem so great now that they were both on the staff at Cedar Bluff. By silent, mutual consent, they stayed away from personal topics, like her brief marriage and Danny’s muteness.
“Would you care for dessert this evening?” the waiter asked, once he’d cleared away their empty dinner plates.
“No, thank you, I couldn’t possibly eat another bite,” she said with a satisfied smile.
“Coffee?” Quinn asked.
“Not for me. I’d like to sleep through the night tonight, after being up most of the weekend,” Leila said with a wry grin. “But help yourself.”
“I’d better not. Danny likes to be up early.” Quinn glanced at the waiter. “I’ll take the check, please.”
The waiter slipped the bill to him as he finished clearing away their empty wineglasses. Leila wished she could pay for her part of the meal, but suspected Quinn would take offense. Since he’d dropped the heavy seduction act, she decided this was not the time to risk their fragile truce.
Once he’d finished paying for the meal, she stood. Quinn took her arm, leading her back through the crowded restaurant to the coat check. When they stepped outside, he clicked a button on his key fob, remotely starting his car.
“Wow, I need one of those,” she murmured.
He chuckled beside her as she gingerly made her way across the slick parking lot. Just as they reached his car, she slipped on an icy patch of snow. With quick reflexes, his arm tightened arou
nd her.
“I’m fine,” she started to say, but her sentence was cut short when Quinn caught her close and covered her mouth with his.
She put her hand up to push him away, but the heat of his mouth robbed her brain of thought. His tongue probed hers, containing the potency of the Italian wine they’d shared, the effect just as lethal against her defenses.
She didn’t notice the cold air around them, because Quinn was so warm. She wound her arms around his neck, thrusting her fingers into his silky black hair as he pulled her closer against his lean, hard frame. His kiss was unrelenting, hot and primitive as his tongue thrust deep, mimicking exactly what he wanted to do.
When he finally lifted his head, she leaned weakly against him, trying to catch her breath. Dear heaven, how could she have let this happen? In the middle of the parking lot, no less?
“I think you’re lying to yourself, quierda,” he whispered in her ear. “An affair is exactly what you need. What we both need. Think about it.”
She couldn’t answer, had to concentrate enough on maintaining her balance as he stepped away, his hands sliding down her arms, as if he couldn’t bear to let her go. She wanted to tell him to go soak his head, but the words were stuck in her throat, congealed by the heat they’d generated. Maybe she needed to stick her head in the nearest snowbank.
Think about it? Thanks to him she doubted she’d be able to think of anything else.
He opened the passenger door and the heated interior reminded her that it was cold. Too cold to stand around contemplating Quinn’s kiss.
In silence, Quinn drove her home. She knew she should say something, anything, but her mind refused to function. Quinn didn’t seem particularly talkative either.
When they arrived at her house, she wasn’t sure if she was glad or disappointed when he left the engine running as he climbed from the driver’s seat to walk her to the door.
“Goodnight, Quinn,” she managed as he stood, looking down at her.
“Goodnight, Leila. I’ll be waiting to hear from you.” He brushed his mouth against hers in a brief kiss, as if to remind her of what she was missing, before he turned and walked back to his car.
Leila fumbled a bit with the key before she managed to get inside her house, closing the door behind her.
She leaned back against the door, listening as Quinn’s car backed out of her driveway.
Waiting? For her?
As much as she’d wanted to tartly inform him that he’d be waiting until his hair turned gray and Danny was old enough to attend college, she was very much afraid he was right.
She wanted him. More than she’d ever wanted any other man. Even George.
Especially George.
And, heaven help her, she didn’t seem to have the strength to resist Quinn.
Quinn’s entire body ached with frustrated sexual tension, robbing him of his ability to sleep.
He should have had the coffee. Should have probably volunteered to work the night shift tonight, since he was wide awake and unable to sleep anyway.
When he closed his eyes, trying to force his muscles to relax, the image of Leila’s face shimmered in his mind. Had he pushed too hard? His body vibrated with impatience. No, there was no way he’d imagined her response.
She wanted him, as much as he wanted her. But she was fighting the attraction, trying to resist him. Why, he wasn’t certain, although he suspected an underlying fear played a role.
Not fear of him. His eyes shot open at the thought. Could it be? No, she didn’t fear him. The way she’d instantly melted in his arms convinced him she wasn’t afraid of him. What she feared must be something inside herself.
And somehow he needed to find patience as she took whatever time she needed to figure it out.
Getting out of bed, he padded to the window and stared out at the snow-covered ground as heat radiated off his skin.
Time for another cold shower.
He had a feeling he’d be experiencing plenty of cold showers until Leila was brave enough to come to him.
And what if she didn’t come to him? What if she gained strength from being distant from him? The mere thought brought a wave of panic.
Twenty-four hours, he thought grimly, staring blindly at the stark, wintery landscape. He’d give her twenty-four hours. A day that would seem a lifetime.
And then he’d go to her.
“Quinn? Quinn! Wake up, you’re upsetting Danny.”
He came awake in a rush, squinting at Delores, who stood at the side of his bed, and grabbing the sheets in a reflexive move to make sure his lower body was well covered. Didn’t a man get any privacy in his own home? And what was she saying about Danny? “What’s wrong? Danny?”
“You wouldn’t wake up, that’s what’s wrong. And Danny thought there was something wrong with you.” Delores’s tone was full of irritation. “Did you stay up all night?”
Shame chased the rest of his exhaustion away. “Not on purpose,” he muttered in response to her question. “Where’s Danny? I need to see him.”
“Right behind me,” Delores said dryly. She turned to Danny, who hovered in the doorway, looking like a waif propped up on his crutches. “See, Danny? I told you your dad was just sleeping.”
“I’m sorry, Danny,” Quinn said, feeling awful. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”
His son lifted a shoulder in a casual shrug, but Quinn wasn’t fooled. He could still see the remnants of stark terror in Danny’s haunted eyes. Quinn gestured for his son to come into the room and Delores left, giving them a few moments alone.
“I’m sorry,” Quinn murmured again, drawing Danny close for a big hug. “I’m here. I’ll always be here. I won’t leave you.”
Danny didn’t respond, but buried his face against his chest, clinging to his shoulders with a firm grip. Quinn held Danny for a long time, rocking him back and forth, trying to instill a sense of safety and reassurance.
Finally Danny broke away and flashed a small smile. He rested against the bed frame as his fingers flew. Auntie D. has breakfast ready. She made chocolate-chip pancakes.
“Sounds good. I’m starved,” Quinn said. He wished more than anything he didn’t have to work second shift later that day. He felt bad about unintentionally scaring Danny. “Let’s go. We have some time to play some video games after breakfast.”
You have to work today? Danny asked, his brow puckered.
“I’m afraid so.” Quinn captured his son’s gaze and deliberately held it. “If you would rather I stay home with you, I’ll try to find someone to cover my shift.” It was a Tuesday night, shouldn’t be that difficult to find cover.
There was a long pause, but then Danny shook his head, his fingers nimble as he signed, No, there’s no reason for you to stay home. I’m fine.
“Are you sure?” Quinn asked. “Because nothing in the whole world is more important to me than you, Danny. Nothing.”
Not even Leila, and it was time he figured that out. Sex was sex but Danny was his life.
I’m sure. I love you, Dad.
“I love you, too.” Quinn gave his son another quick, hard hug and then grabbed his robe to follow Danny into the kitchen.
“There you are,” Delores said by way of greeting. “Hurry up and eat before the pancakes get cold.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Quinn said. He caught Danny’s gaze and sent him a secret wink behind Delores’s back. Danny giggled, but then clapped a hand over his mouth in a belated effort to hide it.
He decided then and there to spend the day with his son, at least until three o’clock that afternoon as that was the time he was scheduled to work.
Leila wasn’t a part of his life, at least not this part. He glanced around the small, homey kitchen with satisfaction. He, Danny and Delores were a family. They’d come a long way over the past eighteen months from the broken family they’d been when Celeste had died.
Leila had distracted him in a big way. And he couldn’t afford to let her become so much of a distraction that sh
e had a negative impact on his relationship with his son.
Leila walked through the ICU at Cedar Bluff, checking out her patients from the weekend. Luckily, Jimmy, the young man with appendicitis, had been transferred out of the ICU to a general floor bed, so he was clearly headed in the right direction.
She only had two days on call this week, partially because she’d been on call during the entire weekend. And she was off for New Year’s Eve, which was also nice, not that she had any specific plans other than maybe going to Seth and Kylie’s wedding.
Would Quinn go, too? Her heart gave a betraying thump and she told herself not to get too excited. She hadn’t even made up her mind yet about seeing Quinn again.
I’ll be waiting for you.
She shook off thoughts of Quinn to concentrate on her patients. There was another multiple trauma case, a young woman who’d been involved in a snowmobile crash and was still in the ICU. Leila discussed the young woman’s care with the critical care intensivist on duty, Dr. Rand Geary, who’d agreed to her suggestion of trying a new medication regimen to get the patient weaned off the ventilator.
Satisfied things were progressing as well as could be expected, Leila finished her rounds in the ICU and then headed out to the floor. She stopped in Jimmy’s room last, informing him and his parents that he was doing well enough to be discharged home.
They thanked her profusely and it was times like this when she really enjoyed her job, knowing that she’d helped make a difference in someone’s life. She hadn’t been able to save Anton, but she had saved many others.
She preferred to focus on the positive side of the win-loss columns. The losses could pull you into a never-ending pit of despair.
Just after dinner, her pager went off, announcing two victims of a motor vehicle crash, one adult and one child, estimated to be about eight or nine.
Her stomach clenched in warning. Children were always the hardest. Another reason she’d been glad she’d decided not to have any. The image of Danny’s young face bloomed in her mind.
