His Blackmailed Bride

by Sandra Marton

  ‘It isn’t my father your brother wants,’ she said coldly. ‘It’s me, and he’ll take me on any terms—even if they include forgiving my father.’

  There was silence, and then Quinn nodded. ‘You’re good, Paige, but not good enough. You forgot one thing—our little romp on the beach the other night.’ He smiled unpleasantly. ‘Something tells me Alan won’t want you after I tell him about that.’

  Her chin rose as her eyes fixed on his. ‘If you do,’ she said softly, ‘I’ll have to tell him how you forced yourself on me. How you almost raped me. Who do you think he’ll believe then?’

  She thought, for an instant, she had pushed him too far. His face darkened, his eyes turned to glass. Paige held her breath, readying herself for his attack. Then, just when she was sure her heart was going to leap from her chest, he did the unexpected. He smiled.

  ‘Sweet, sweet Juliet,’ he said, his voice almost a purr. ‘Thank you for showing me your true face. It’s hard to look into those eyes and remember what a bitch you really are.’ His hand flexed more tightly around her wrist. ‘You’re right—Alan will fall for whatever lies you tell him. And then you and your thieving father will have it all.’ Paige said nothing, and Quinn twisted her towards him. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’

  Her wrist hurt beneath the clutch of his fingers, but not as much as her heart. To think she’d wanted this man to make love to her. To think she’d almost given up the safe haven of Alan’s arms…

  How I hate you!

  ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘and there’s nothing you can do about it. I’m telling you that there’s going to be a wedding today.’

  He laughed softly. ‘You’re right.’ His arms began to close around her, imprisoning her against him. ‘There damned well will be a wedding today. But not in this house. And not between you and Alan.’ He paused and a smile touched his lips, never warming the coldness in his eyes. ‘You’ve left me no choice, Paige. There’s only one way to stop you. You’re going to marry me. You’re going to be my wife.’

  She stared at him, stunned. Somewhere in the distant reaches of the house, there was loud laughter, and Paige wondered crazily if everyone had heard what Quinn had said and they were all in on the joke.

  ‘Wh… what?’

  He shifted her against him, and she felt the hardness of his body. Last night, the feel of him against her had made her breathless with desire. Now it terrified her. He smiled, and she knew he’d sensed her fear and drew pleasure from it.

  ‘Leaves you speechless with happiness, doesn’t it?’ The smile faded, as quickly as a light doused by the flick of a switch. ‘There’s no other way I can protect my brother from you.’

  She stared at him, waiting for the laughter that would tell her he was making some kind of ugly joke, but his eyes were expressionless.

  ‘You… you can’t be serious…’

  ‘Deadly serious, sweet Juliet.’

  Her heart began to race. ‘I… I’d have to be crazy to marry you.’

  Quinn cocked his head. ‘Or desperate,’ he said softly. ‘How far will you go to save your father from prison?’

  ‘You wouldn’t…’

  He grinned. ‘Wouldn’t I? The guests are down there waiting. All I have to do is walk up to the altar and make a brief announcement. “Good afternoon, everyone,” I’ll say. “I’m afraid the wedding will be cancelled. You see, the bride’s father is an embezzler, and I’ve had to telephone for the police. The bride’s asked me to tell you the groom will marry her anyway, at which time the groom’s parents, not wanting to have a thief in the family, will disown him and announce his dismissal from the firm. I’m sorry if this has spoiled your day, but just think of what it’s done for the bride and her daddy.”’

  ‘You bastard,’ she said softly.

  ‘What a colourful vocabulary you have, Paige. Alan would be shocked to hear such words fall from that soft mouth.’

  ‘Don’t you care about hurting Alan?’

  Quinn shrugged her words away. ‘Being married to you would hurt him more.’

  ‘He’d hate you. Your whole family would hate you. They…’

  His lips drew back in a cold smile. ‘I’ve survived worse.’

  She made a last, desperate try. ‘Alan will still want me, Quinn. He’ll try to win me back.’

  ‘Give it up,’ he said softly. ‘Once you belong to me, any man who wants to stay healthy won’t look at you twice, including my little brother.’ His eyes moved over her face, to the gentle curve of her breast barely visible above the lace neckline of her bridal gown, and then he looked into her eyes again. ‘You wanted a Fowler and you’ve got one.’ A smile twisted his lips. ‘Believe me, Paige, the one you got is the one you deserve.’

  Her heart fluttered in panic. ‘You can’t do this,’ she whispered. ‘The wedding’s going to start soon. Everyone’s waiting. Quinn, please, you have to listen to me. Your parents… my parents…’

  ‘Don’t forget the compensations, Paige.’

  When she saw what was in his eyes, she began to struggle against him, but his strength overwhelmed her. He drew her to him and his mouth captured hers in a kiss that was a brutal message of dominance. There was no softness, no seeking warmth. His kiss was meant to establish the boundaries of their relationship. She was his. He would own her, and there was nothing she could do about it.

  ‘Do you understand me?’

  Paige put her hand to her mouth and wiped it clean. ‘How could I ever have wanted you to touch me?’ she whispered.

  Tears filled her eyes and slid down her cheeks. Something flickered in the depths of his aquamarine eyes, but it was gone as swiftly as it had come.

  ‘I want to be out of the door in five minutes,’ he said curtly. ‘Change out of that gown while I write a note to Alan. I’ll dictate notes for you to write to him and your parents. I’ll make it sound as if we couldn’t help ourselves. They’ll think we can’t live without each other.’ His smile sent a chill through her blood. ‘It’s almost the truth, in a twisted sort of way, isn’t it, Juliet?’

  ‘Dear lord, how I hate you!’

  ‘Maybe the judge who marries us can work those words into the wedding vows. Believe me, the feeling is mutual.’

  Their eyes met and locked, and then Quinn pushed her from him.

  ‘Change your clothing,’ he snapped. ‘Make it fast.’

  She looked at him helplessly. ‘Turn your back.’

  Quinn laughed. ‘A modest bride. Just what I’ve always wanted.’

  But he did as she’d asked. And, when she was dressed in what was to have been her going-away outfit, Paige slid Alan’s diamond from her finger and placed it gently on the table.

  Beneath her silk blouse, Quinn’s ruby still warmed her flesh.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  PAIGE watched as Quinn took a pen and paper from the desk. Dear Alan… He wrote the words in a strong, firm hand. A shudder ran through her and she turned away.

  This couldn’t be happening. Surely it was a dream from which she’d soon awaken? But the scratch of pen across paper was a real as the sight of her bridal gown lying in a discarded heap across the bed. She watched as Quinn finished the first page of the letter and began the next. God, there had to be a way to stop him! He couldn’t really do this to her—he wouldn’t. He…

  No, of course he wouldn’t. This was a trick, that was all. Quinn wanted to be certain she’d fade from his brother’s life for ever. This was only a melodrama to ensure that she did.

  Her desperate hope died as soon as Quinn finished writing. He looked up and shoved the letter towards her.

  ‘Sign it,’ he said.

  She looked at him blankly. ‘Quinn, you… you can’t really mean…’

  His eyes raked her with cold fire. ‘Have you changed your mind, Paige? Would you prefer I go downstairs and make my announcement?’

  She shook her head. ‘No. But…’

  ‘Sign the letter, Paige.’

  She took a step towards him and picked up the
letter. Her hands trembled as she read the words she and Quinn had supposedly written together.

  Words seemed to leap from the page. ‘By the time you read this… can’t go through with our wedding… don’t want to hurt you… always care for you but I’ve fallen in love with Quinn…’

  ‘You said I could write to Alan myself.’

  His smile was curt. ‘I changed my mind. Let’s go, Paige. Sign it.’

  The paper trembled and fell from her hand. Quinn picked it up and thrust it at her.

  ‘Do it,’ he growled.

  ‘Quinn…’ Her voice broke. ‘Quinn, please—I beg you. Don’t force me into this. I swear I won’t marry Alan. I don’t love him—I never did. And my father… maybe he can explain. Maybe…’

  His eyes were bottomless and dark. ‘Maybe he can grow old in prison. Sign the note, Paige.’

  His voice was soft. She read the threat in his eyes and then she took the paper from him and scrawled her name alongside his.

  ‘You have two minutes to write to your parents.’ His mouth twisted. ‘Not that your old man will give a damn. As long as you marry the Fowler who can guarantee his safety.’

  Paige addressed her note to both her mother and her father, but the words were directed to Janet Gardiner. She built on the advice her mother had given her earlier that morning: it made for an effective lie.

  ‘I’ve fallen in love with…’ Her hand paused, trembling, and Quinn laughed. ‘Write my name, Juliet. You may as well get used to it.’ Paige took a deep breath. ‘… with someone else,’ she wrote. ‘I’ve done as you said, Mother, and followed my heart.’

  Quinn’s breath was warm on her cheek as he read over her shoulder. ‘That’s it,’ he said. ‘There won’t be a dry eye in the house after that’s made the rounds.’

  That was when she’d first begun to believe that he might really take her away with him. The pulse that beat in the hollow of her throat leaped to the sudden pounding of her blood. She wiped her damp palms along the silk skirt of her going-away suit, watching as Quinn pulled off his dark grey morning jacket and tossed it aside.

  ‘What are you doing?’ she whispered.

  His fingers flew along the studs on his starched shirt. ‘Changing my clothes. This used to be my room—there should be something I can wear left in the wardrobe.’ His voice grew muffled. ‘Here we go,’ he said, flashing her a mirthless grin as he tossed a corduroy suit on the bed. ‘It’s probably going to be a tight fit, but it’s better than walking around New York City on a weekend morning, wearing a swallowtail coat.’

  He shrugged off his shirt and tossed it after the jacket. His chest and shoulders were naked, and Paige’s glance skimmed across his torso, refusing to see, yet fascinated by, the dark, curling hair that covered his chest, and the well-defined muscles in his arms and shoulders. His eyes caught hers and she flushed and turned away.

  ‘New York?’

  Quinn grunted and she heard the hiss of metal. ‘New York,’ he repeated. ‘And then London.’

  London. Of course—that was where he lived. If he was really planning on going through with this, that was where he’d take her. She swallowed past the nervous laughter that rose in her throat. Alan had apologised a dozen times for having to rush her off to South America, but here was Quinn, about to carry her off to England without so much as a word.

  ‘Let’s go,’ he snapped.

  She looked up as he opened the door. The corduroy suit had clearly been his in the days before he’d matured. The jacket was too small; his shoulders seemed ready to burst the seams. He was wearing a blue turtleneck beneath the jacket, and it clung to him, clearly defining the ridged muscle in his chest and abdomen. Her glance fell lower, to the tightness of the corduroy trousers across his thighs and groin…

  Something sharper than fear flared within her. ‘I’m not going with you,’ she said, taking a step back. ‘You can’t make me.’ Quinn said nothing. He merely clasped her hand in his and tugged her out of the door. ‘Damn you,’ she hissed, ‘you won’t get away with this!’

  He laughed softly. ‘Get away with what, sweet Juliet? You make it sound as if I’m stealing you. You’re with me of your own free will, remember? You can’t live without me.’ His voice grew cold and his fingers bit into hers. ‘And neither can your father.’

  His rental car was parked on the quiet street behind the Fowler house. The engine sounded as loud as a buzz saw when he started it, and she looked towards the house, certain she’d see someone running towards them. But the house watched them with empty glass eyes, and soon they were moving swiftly along the silent suburban streets. When they reached the motorway, Quinn jammed his foot almost to the floor, and the car leaped ahead like a racehorse. He made only one stop en route, at a service station along the road. Paige sat in the car, gripped by a strange lethargy, watching as he made a call from a telephone booth. His speech was animated, and she had the impression he was arguing with someone at the other end, but finally he laughed, slapped his hand against the side of the booth, and hung up. Less than half an hour later, they were on the east side of Manhattan, approaching Central Park.

  Quinn slowed the car and pulled to the kerb in front of a handsome brownstone house. A man about his age stepped from the shadows, peered into the car, and smiled at Paige.

  ‘No wonder you’re in such a hurry, old man,’ he said. ‘All right, follow me.’

  He climbed into a small Mercedes waiting at the kerb and pulled into the street. A dozen questions raced through Paige’s mind, but she wasn’t about to give Quinn the satisfaction of asking any of them. His silence would be hers, too. The cars wove through the streets of the city, from east side to west, through midtown traffic, until they reached lower Manhattan. At last, in an area given over to clusters of municipal buildings, Quinn’s friend pulled to the kerb and parked. Quinn did the same.

  ‘Get out,’ he said to Paige.

  They were the first words he’d spoken to her in hours. The man grinned at her as she stepped on to the pavement, and then he looked at Quinn.

  ‘You’re sure this is what you want, pal? No offence, sweetheart,’ he added, flashing a smile at Paige. ‘It’s just that this is a mighty big step to take on the spur of the moment.’

  That was when Paige’s pulse began to race. ‘Quinn?’ she whispered, and he turned a cold, unsmiling face to her.

  ‘Jim and I went to school together,’ he said. ‘And now he’s the Mayor’s number one boy.’

  Paige’s mouth went dry. ‘Quinn,’ she said again, and this time a mocking smile touched his mouth.

  ‘Everything’s all set—we can be married within the hour.’ His eyes sought hers, and she drew in her breath when she saw their blue-green fire. ‘Isn’t that wonderful news, darling?’

  ‘But… but I thought…’

  Why was she so stunned? He’d told her he was going to marry her. In the last couple of hours, she’d even begun to believe it. But it couldn’t happen so quickly, she thought, staring at him. Without realising it, she’d counted on time as her ally. There were laws and licences and blood tests…

  Faintly, as if from a great distance, she heard Jim’s puzzled laughter. ‘Hey, pal, I thought you said the lady would be delighted.’

  ‘She is,’ Quinn said. His hand closed on the nape of her neck. ‘She’s just speechless. Aren’t you, Paige?’

  His voice was a smoky whisper as he drew her to him.

  Paige’s lashes fell to her cheeks. She wanted to hit out at him, to pound her fists against his chest—but a sweet weakness as heavy as cream was flooding through her.

  ‘Don’t,’ she whispered, but it was meaningless. Quinn’s mouth took hers and she swayed towards him, leaning into his encircling arm. She heard him make a soft sound in his throat, and then he pulled her so tightly against him that she felt her breasts flatten against his chest.

  Jim laughed nervously. ‘OK, guys. I’m convinced.’

  When Quinn drew back and looked at her, his eyes were blue flames.
‘Tell Jim you want to marry me,’ he whispered.

  Paige touched her tongue to her lips. ‘I…’

  ‘Tell him.’

  She looked into his eyes. ‘I want to marry Quinn,’ she murmured.

  She knew that both the question and answer were meant for Jim. But she thought she saw something ignite deep in the aquamarine depths of Quinn’s eyes. Tears glistened on her lashes, and she blinked them away. When she looked into his eyes again, whatever she’d seen was gone, and she realised that all she’d seen was a reflection of her own anguish.

  The tall building into which Quinn led her seemed empty at first. But there was a harried clerk waiting in an office that had clearly been opened for them and, in a tiled room, a lab attendant in a white coat greeted them with a sharp-needled syringe. Finally, in an apartment high above the East River, Paige and Quinn were married. A stranger in a dark suit asked the questions she’d expected to hear asked on this day, and she answered them. But the man who stood beside her wasn’t Alan. It was Quinn who held her hand, Quinn who watched her face as she made her whispered replies, her hesitancy offset by his strong responses. He paused only when it came time to place the wedding ring on her finger.

  There was no ring. Quinn looked over the judge’s shoulder, to his friend, and Jim made a face and shrugged.

  The judge marrying them cleared his throat. ‘We can improvise,’ he said. ‘Do without, if necessary.’

  But Quinn shook his head. ‘Dammit,’ he growled, ‘there must be something we can use.’

  There was. Paige drew in her breath and put her hand to her breast. ‘Your ring,’ she murmured.

  Quinn misunderstood. ‘I don’t have it any more,’ he said, and his mouth twisted strangely. ‘I seem to have misplaced it.’

  She felt the rush of colour to her cheeks as she reached beneath her suit jacket, into the scooped neckline of her silk blouse.

  ‘You gave it to me,’ she said in a thready whisper.

  The ruby against her palm was like a burning ember as she held it out to him on its gold chain. He stared at it for a long moment before slowly lifting his eyes to hers.