“What are you doing out of bed?” Olivia asked. She scrambled from her place at the table and crossed the cabin. Conor winced as she draped his arm over her shoulders and walked with him back to the table. He didn’t bother to sit and Olivia could see what it was costing him. It was as if he didn’t want to show any sign of weakness.
“So tell me what you have for me,” Conor said, glancing at each one of his brothers.
“Brian got you a car,” Dylan said. “It’s parked at the end of the dock. It’s wicked ugly, but it runs. I brought you some fresh clothes. They’re in the trunk.”
“Here,” Brendan said. “You can take my cell phone. I’m not sure if they can trace the calls on your phone, but it’s better to be safe for now.”
“We should stay here for a little while longer,” Olivia suggested. “You need to rest.”
“No,” Conor said, not bothering to look her way. “We’ll leave in a half hour.”
“But-”
Conor turned to look at her, his gaze unyielding. “This is not up for debate,” he said. “We’ll do it my way.”
Olivia bristled at the tone of his voice, so different from that of the night before, and she felt a flush of embarrassment creep up her cheeks. He turned and started back to the forward cabin. Olivia glanced around the table. “He should rest,” she murmured. “He was shot.”
Brendan shrugged, then sent her a sympathetic smile. “Con does things his own way.”
Olivia spun on her heel and followed after Conor. When she reached the forward cabin, she stepped inside and closed the door behind them. Conor stood beside the berth, trying to slip into his shirt.
“Why do we have to leave?” she asked, holding onto the shirt as he twisted into it. “We’re safe here. And you need to rest.” He refused to answer her, focused on his shoulder holster. “What is this?” she demanded. “Are you determined to kill yourself just to show your brothers what a tough guy you are?”
He glanced up at her. “Don’t think because of what happened last night I’m going to stop doing my job,” he murmured. “I’m paid to protect you and if that means we move, then we move.”
Stunned by his indifferent tone, Olivia wasn’t sure what to say. Had she imagined what they’d shared last night? Was she naive to believe that it changed things between them? With a soft curse, she grabbed her purse, her shoes and her jacket, then yanked open the cabin door. “Forgive me,” she muttered. “I didn’t realize that what happened last night was all part of the job.”
Olivia walked out into the main cabin and didn’t bother turning around when he called her name. Maybe this was all for the better. They’d had a little fun and now it was time to get back to business. She was a witness and he was a cop and she’d do well not to forget that in the future.
But Olivia knew in her heart that it would take her a very long time to forget her night with Conor Quinn-if she could forget it at all.
6
“WHAT THE HELL are you doing?”
Conor stepped out of the forward cabin only to find his two brothers blocking his way with broad shoulders and angry expressions. “What do you mean?”
“She’s out there on deck and I think she’s crying,” Dylan said. “What did you do to her?”
“Nothing,” Conor replied. “I’m just doing my job, that’s all.”
Dylan shook his head. “You seduced her, didn’t you. You slept with a witness.”
Conor cursed softly. “I did not-”
“Come on,” Brendan said. “One look at that girl’s face was all it took to know what went on in my cabin last night in my bed. She looked, as we say in the literary world, well bedded. And knowing your lack of preparedness when it comes to matters of the heart, I’m sure all I’d have to do is count the condoms in my bedside table to figure out how great the night really was.”
Conor had never been one to open up his private life to family scrutiny. As far as his brothers were concerned, he didn’t have a private life. “All right,” he said. “So we…were intimate. Don’t tell me you guys never lost control with a woman.”
“Not me,” Dylan said.
“Never,” Brendan added.
“Well, someday you will,” Conor warned, “and then you’ll know what it feels like. I couldn’t stop myself. It seemed-no, it was the right thing to do. I…care about her.” He drew a ragged breath, then stepped around them to grab another cup of coffee. His side was beginning to ache again and perhaps the caffeine would dull the pain. “Da always warned us about women being the only thing that could bring a Quinn down. I have to tell you, last night, I didn’t care. I wanted to be brought down. I wanted to forget about that stupid family curse.”
“So what’s your next move?” Dylan asked.
Conor was glad for the change of subject. Now that he’d admitted his weakness, he didn’t want to dwell on it. But his reaction to the events of last night had carried into the morning. He wasn’t sure what had happened between him and Olivia, beyond an incredible physical release. He only knew that it had changed something deep inside of him, opened a door that he’d always kept firmly locked.
“I called my partner,” he said.
“I meant what’s your next move with Olivia. If I were you, I’d apologize for every stupid thing I said. And then I’d thank my lucky stars that a woman like her wandered into my life.”
“Well, I’m not you, Dylan,” Conor murmured. He took a sip of his coffee. “Danny found us a place to stay.”
“Can you trust him?” Brendan asked, concern coloring his tone.
Conor brushed him off with a shrug. “The kid transferred to the district three months ago. Even the most corrupt cop doesn’t go bad that fast.” He turned and leaned back against the rail. “His grandmother just moved to Florida and he’s selling her condo for her. It’s still furnished. He says we can stay there as long as we want.”
“So you’re going to play house with Olivia until the trial?” Dylan asked.
“I’m keeping her safe,” Conor countered.
Brendan shook his head. “She’s a nice lady, Con. I wouldn’t want to see her get hurt any more than she already is-and I’m not talking about bullets here.”
“Neither would I,” Conor murmured as he ran his fingers through his hair. But then maybe he already had hurt her, simply by making love to her. Though their night together had been incredible, it was also a dangerous move. She’d come to depend on him, first for her safety and now for intimacy, and he wasn’t sure that he could continue to give her what she needed.
Soon, they’d be free to go their separate ways. Would she be able to let go? And even more importantly, would he? “Right now everything is so unreal,” he said. “Feelings are magnified because of the circumstances. She can’t possibly know how she really feels. To her, I’m some big hero. Believe me, give her time. She’ll figure out who I really am.”
“And what if she does and she doesn’t turn and run?” Dylan asked.
“Did you ever think she might be the one?” Brendan asked.
“Maybe,” Conor said. “But I can’t think about that now. From now on, I have to concentrate on the job and nothing else.”
Brendan stepped around him to the hatch, then climbed the stairs. “Just don’t be such a hard ass, Con. Give her a chance.”
Conor and Dylan followed him out and they found Olivia sitting on a locker, her hands clasped on her lap. She’d pulled her hair back into a ponytail and her fresh face was barely touched with makeup. Whether in the soft glow from an oil lamp or the bright morning sunshine, Conor thought she was the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. An image of her flashed in his mind, her hair tumbling around her face, her body flushed with passion and his blood warmed in the chill morning air.
“I’m ready,” she murmured as she stood.
Given the choice, he’d rather take her by the hand and lead her back into the cabin to kiss away the tension that had sprung up between them and spend the day lost in carnal pursuits. H
ell, why not stay on the boat and just jump from harbor to harbor until it was time to go back. Brendan could take them down the coast to Martha’s Vineyard or Nantucket. Or they could go farther south, looking for warmer weather.
Conor considered the notion, then cursed inwardly. Already she was making him question his decisions, put aside his responsibility as a cop for a few more adventures in the bedroom. If he wasn’t careful, that would put them both at risk.
“I told Olivia I’d take care of Tommy for her,” Brendan explained. “He seems to like it here and I could use the company. When things have settled down, she can come back and get him.”
Olivia pushed up on her toes and gave Brendan a quick kiss on the cheek. “Thank you,” she murmured.
It was only a kiss of gratitude, but Conor didn’t like it. He knew Brendan all too well, knew his penchant for charming the ladies. While Brendan was smooth and disarming, Conor had always been lacking in social skills. He’d never developed the ability to sweet-talk a woman, to enthrall her with just a few well-chosen phrases. Women usually found him attractive for what he didn’t say, rather than what he did.
“Yeah, thanks,” Conor said, holding out his hand for Olivia. She said her goodbyes to Dylan, and Conor watched as his brother grabbed her around the waist and swung her up onto the dock. He jumped off after her, then held his hand out to Conor.
Conor ignored the offered aid, clenched his teeth, and swung up onto the dock himself, ignoring the sharp ache in his side. He’d only been up for an hour, but already the nagging pain was making him edgy. Hell, he was ready to bite his brothers’ heads off for touching Olivia.
Brendan and Dylan accompanied them to the end of the dock. When they reached the car, Dylan tossed him the keys, then jogged around to the opposite side to gallantly open the door for Olivia. Before he closed it, he leaned inside and whispered something to Olivia. She giggled softly then gave him a wave goodbye.
Conor started the car and then pulled away from the dock. As they drove through town, neither one of them said a word. He considered apologizing for his curt words. He even thought about bringing up the subject of their night together, laying down some new ground rules. But he knew the chances of him saying something stupid were pretty high. Maybe if he just didn’t mention it, they could go on as they had before.
As they headed away from the water toward the interstate, he risked a glance over at her, curious to know what Dylan had whispered, yet too stubborn to ask. Olivia’s gaze was fixed on the road ahead and she clutched her fingers in her lap, as if sitting next to him made her uncomfortable.
Conor turned his eyes back to the road, then noticed a sign for a discount store on the right. He glanced over his shoulder, then pulled into the parking lot. Olivia sent him a questioning look. “Where are we going?”
He smiled. “You’ll see.”
He found a spot near the entrance, then hopped out of the car to open Olivia’s door. But she had already stepped out by the time he got there. Conor took her hand, glad to have an excuse to touch her again, and led her through the front doors. He glanced at the store directory, grabbed a shopping cart, then pulled her along behind him.
When they reached the lingerie department he stopped. Then he reached into his pocket, pulled out his wallet and handed her a credit card. She looked down at it. “What’s this for?”
“Underwear,” he said. “On the Boston P.D. Go crazy. Buy as much as you want.” A slow smile curled her lips and relief flooded his senses. He could still make her happy.
“Underwear?”
He nodded, his heart warming beneath the delight on her face. Her earlier anger was quickly forgotten. “Even though you’re used to wearing designer clothes, discount is all I can offer for now,” Conor said. But that didn’t stop him from wanting to give her more. “Buy anything else you need.”
With a cry of delight, she wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a fierce hug. “Underwear,” she said in the same tone that a woman might say “diamonds” or “pearls.” Olivia stared up into his eyes for a long moment. He fought the crazy urge to kiss her, trying to ignore the perfect shape of her mouth and the way her lips glistened beneath the harsh store lighting. He put aside the vivid memories of all the kisses they’d shared already. But, in the end, he couldn’t pass on the chance to steal just one more.
Conor bent his head and touched her lips with his, just barely a kiss, yet enough to satisfy his craving and reassure himself that he’d repaired any damage he’d caused to their relationship. Then Olivia turned and began to pick through the displays and racks. At first, Conor stood back, observing her selections. But when she disappeared into a fitting room, he wandered over to a bin of black underthings. He picked up a pair of panties, no more than two scraps of satin and a bit of lace, and studied them for a long moment.
“Can I help you?”
Conor spun around to find an owl-eyed saleslady looking at him through horn-rimmed glasses. He cleared his throat and quickly wadded the panties and shoved them into his jacket pocket. “No,” he murmured. “I-I’m just waiting for someone.”
“You aren’t planning to steal those panties, are you?” she asked.
Startled, Conor laughed uneasily. Then he reached into the back pocket of his jeans and produced his badge. “I’m a cop,” he said.
She peered at his badge, then back at his face. Conor shifted uneasily. What? Did she think he planned to wear the panties himself? He pulled the panties from his pocket just as Olivia emerged from the fitting room.
“I’m done here,” she said, piling her selections into the cart. “Can we look for a few T-shirts and sweaters?”
“Sure,” Conor murmured, surreptitiously tossing the black panties into the basket as well. Then he gave the saleslady a dry smile and turned back to Olivia. “Come on, let’s go.”
They wandered around the store, Olivia stopping in nearly every department to browse. When she got to the men’s department, she pulled a couple of flannel shirts from a table, then tossed in three T-shirts. Though he didn’t say anything before she moved on, Conor liked the idea of her choosing his clothes. It was a familiar, almost intimate, gesture that warmed him in the same way her touch did.
“Before we go, we need to get some medical supplies,” Conor said after a half hour of shopping. Though he was loathe to put an end to her fun, his side was beginning to ache incessantly. “Bandages and alcohol and adhesive tape.”
Olivia frowned, then moaned softly, her eyes going wide with concern. “I-I’m sorry. Oh, I forgot all about your wound. Let’s go.” She grabbed the cart and hurried down the aisle toward health and beauty. But as they passed the men’s underwear department, Conor remembered he could use some extra boxer shorts. Maybe it was optimistic to believe Olivia might see his underwear again, but it paid to be prepared. He had no idea whether Dylan had thought to bring him clean underwear. Conor veered off and grabbed a few packages, then tossed them into the cart.
When they reached the checkout counter, Olivia picked the merchandise out of the basket and put it on the conveyor belt. But when she came to the black panties, she held them up, then glanced at Conor suspiciously. He forced a smile, then gave her a shrug. “How did those get in there?”
For a moment, he thought she might hand them to the checker to return to the shelf. But then she tossed the panties down next to the others, a tiny grin curling the corners of her mouth. Conor let out a tightly held breath, imagining how she’d look in black satin, imagining himself as he hooked a finger beneath that lace and tugged them down her legs.
As he walked out of the store carrying Olivia’s bags, he considered the possibilities that their purchases held. And though he should have pushed the idea from his mind without a second thought, Conor couldn’t help but wonder what their next night together might bring.
“IT’S A RETIREMENT COMPLEX,” Olivia murmured, staring at the entrance to Waterbrook Manor. “‘A complete residential community for active seniors’?” she rea
d. “I don’t think we’re going to blend in here,” she said.
“Maybe not,” Conor said. “But then this is the last place Red Keenan would look. I doubt that the people here have any underworld connections. And it’s rent-free. No one can track us.”
But Olivia had learned to be suspicious of every situation. They were supposed to be safe at the Happy Patriot and Conor had gotten shot. They should have been safe on The Mighty Quinn, yet they’d stayed there only one night before running again. “Are you sure you can trust your partner? What if he tells someone where we are?”
“He won’t,” Conor said. “He may be green, but he’s loyal.” He put the car into gear and drove up the winding drive, past a group of seniors playing bocci ball and around a crowded putting green. The complex was huge, with four-unit condos set amidst tidy landscaping. They found the address, in a building set back from the road, and parked. But Conor waited before getting out.
“We need a story,” he said.
“Like one with fairies and gnomes?” Olivia asked.
“No, a cover story. Something to tell people if they ask.”
“We could say that we’re renting the condo while Danny tries to sell it. Helping to make his grandmother a little extra pocket money.”
“That’s good,” Conor said. “It makes us sympathetic.” He paused. “And I think we should tell them we’re married.”
Olivia gasped. “What?”
“It only makes sense,” Conor said. “There are bound to be people here who frown on premarital…well, you know…relations. An unmarried couple cohabitating. I just don’t want to give them an excuse to gossip.”
“All right,” Olivia said, seeing the sense in his explanation. Besides, what harm could it do? Just because they said they were married didn’t mean they had to continue the roles behind closed doors. “We’ll tell them we’re newlyweds. That we eloped last week.”
“Eloped?”
She held up her hand and wiggled her fingers. “No rings.”
Conor Page 11
