It seemed impossible to remember that she’d ever longed for his caress. But she knew she had; once, the touch of his hands on her skin, the brush of his mouth on hers, had filled her with a rapture so sweet it had made her dizzy with longing. She felt nothing now. It was as if she were elsewhere, watching as Quinn made love to a woman made of stone.
‘What is this?’
His voice drew her back. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at him. He was looking at her through slitted eyes. His hand was between them, outstretched, the ruby ring he’d given her burning in his palm.
‘It’s… it’s the ring you gave me.’
A smile as deadly as summer lightning flashed across his face. ‘Yes,’ he said. ‘I remember.’
He closed his hand over the ring and the length of gold chain from which it hung. The fragile rope drew her closer to him.
‘You said it was mine,’ she said with a touch of defiance. ‘I offered it to you, but you said…’
The ring fell from his hand and swung back against her breasts. ‘I know what I said. Have you always worn it?’
Her chin lifted. ‘I forgot to take it off, that’s all.’
‘Forgot? All these weeks, and you forgot?’ His arms slid around her waist. His breath was warm against her cheek. ‘Do you remember the night I gave it to you?’
‘No,’ she said quickly.
‘I do,’ he said softly. ‘I remember it as if it were yesterday. I told you the flame that burned in the ruby’s heart would remind you of me.’
‘I… I don’t remember. I…’
His arms tightened around her. ‘I said it would make you think of how it would be for us when we made love.’
A tremor raced along her spine. ‘That was… that was in another lifetime,’ she whispered. ‘It was…’
‘Yes,’ he said softly, ‘it was. It was a time of magic.’ He gathered her to him. ‘Tell me you remember that night, Paige.’
Her gaze swept over his face, searching it for some new cruelty. His eyes blazed with light, his lips were parted.
‘Quinn,’ she whispered. ‘Quinn…’
‘Juliet.’
Her eyes closed as his mouth settled on hers. His kiss was gentle, his lips warm and firm. She trembled as his hands cupped her face, tilting it to him. With quick, teasing kisses, he coaxed her mouth open, and his teeth closed lightly on her bottom lip and drew it into the sweet warmth of his mouth.
Paige moaned softly. ‘No,’ she said, pressing her hands against his chest. ‘Please…’
‘Yes,’ he whispered. ‘Put your arms around me. Kiss me the way you did that night.’ He kissed her again and again, each kiss deeper and more exciting. ‘Tell me you want me,’ he said against her mouth, and his arms tightened around her. ‘Tell me you want to be my wife.’
‘I want… I want…’ I want to be your wife for ever.
The realisation raced through her, heating her blood like a current of electricity. Slowly, she lifted her arms to him and whispered his name. Quinn drew in his breath and caught her to him.
‘Yes,’ he said fiercely, ‘yes.’
He lifted her in his arms, then lowered her gently to the bed. Moonlight fell across them, cool and white, as she looked up at him.
‘Quinn,’ she whispered, ‘Quinn…’
‘Beautiful Paige,’ he said thickly, ‘my Juliet.’
He whispered to her as he stripped away her clothing, he touched her as he told her things she’d waited a lifetime to hear. She felt her breasts bloom against his hand, felt her nipples bud darkly at the silken brush of his fingers. His lips moved over her throat, her shoulders, and when finally he drew her nipple into his mouth she cried out and clasped him to her.
She whispered his name, and he caught her hand in his and pressed his lips to her palm. ‘I’ve waited so long,’ he whispered, folding her fingers over his kiss as if to seal it in her hand for ever. ‘All these days and nights, watching you, wanting you…’
‘Don’t leave me,’ she said as he rolled away from her.
He touched his hand to her cheek. ‘No,’ he said softly, ‘not tonight.’ She watched as he stood beside the bed and stripped off his trousers. His body was lean and powerful, his shoulders broad. She reached out to him as he lay beside her again and took her in his arms, curving her body to the hard length of his.
His mouth covered hers as his hands moved over her, learning all the curves and shadows of her body. She was alive beneath his touch, eager for his kisses, burning with a flame like that which glowed in the heart of the ruby.
The wonder of it made her breathless. She wanted to tell him that what was happening to her was, indeed, magic, that his love had brought her from a cold, dark place into the light—but there was no time for words. And it didn’t matter: you didn’t need words when you could say so much with a kiss, with a caress, with a sigh.
When he found the centre of her womanhood, Paige pressed her face into his chest and moaned softly. His fingers cupped her, tangling in her moist warmth.
‘So lovely,’ he murmured. ‘So sweet.’
She stiffened when he bent to her. ‘No,’ she whispered.
But his mouth had already found her, and at his kiss her heart filled with a joy so intense that tears filled her eyes. No one had ever kissed her this way, and no one would, ever again. There would be only Quinn in her arms for the rest of her life. Only Quinn. Only…
She cried out as the room spun away from her. He drew her into his arms and held her to him, stroking her flushed cheeks, smoothing the damp hair back from her face, murmuring soft words to her. After a moment, she touched him shyly, her palms flat against his chest.
‘I… I want to… to touch you,’ she whispered.
‘Yes,’ he said huskily, and she heard the catch of his breath as she moved her hand over him. He was all hard muscle and warm skin. The feel of his body was strange and exciting. He groaned as she explored the long muscles in his arms, the length of his spine, and her touch grew bolder.
‘Yes,’ he murmured again as her fingers traced the curve of his buttocks. He whispered her name as she touched his chest again and ran her hand down its length, to the ridged muscles in his abdomen. She touched his navel, and her pulse tripped erratically.
‘Quinn…’
It was a sigh, a question, a desire, and he understood. His hand closed around her wrist and slowly, gently, he brought her to him.
His head fell back when her hand closed around him. His flesh was hard, yet velvet-soft. His warmth was the warmth of the sun. And he was hers. It was she who had made this happen.
A swift, fierce joy suffused her. Her arms wound around his neck as he rolled over her and kissed her deeply.
‘Do you want me, Juliet?’ he whispered. ‘Tell me.’
‘Yes,’ she said without hesitation. ‘Oh, yes. I want you. Yes…’
She wanted to tell him she’d wanted him always, not just since the night they’d met but since the beginning of time. But his mouth took hers as he slid his hands beneath her and lifted her to him, and then it was too late to tell him anything. She could only call out his name as his passion filled her with life-giving warmth.
She felt the flutter of wings deep within her as Quinn began to move, slowly at first, then more quickly, and as his pace and thrust intensified so did the beat of the wings, until, in a sudden dazzle of pleasure, Paige broke free of her own body.
The stars, she thought, the stars that blazed in the night sky above the Connecticut shore and the quiet London mews—she could almost grasp them in her hand.
‘My Juliet,’ Quinn whispered. ‘My wife.’
Her heart tumbled with joy, and then the starfire flamed over her and through her. And, as she drifted slowly to earth again, safe in Quinn’s arms, she understood the meaning of the oldest magic of all.
Love.
* * *
Paige awoke slowly to the patter of rain on the window. Hazy, dream-shot images tumbled through her mind. It was a good
morning for dreams, she thought lazily—dreams of starry skies, of strong arms, of Quinn…
Quinn. Her heart tumbled wildly. They weren’t dreams at all. The long, wonderful night had been real.
She was alone in his bed; she knew that even before she opened her eyes. If he’d been there, she’d have still been locked in his arms as she had been all night, not just when they had made love but when they had slept—although there had been little time for sleep. It was as if Quinn had been determined to make up for all the nights they’d wasted during the weeks of their marriage.
Her cheeks coloured as she thought of the hours gone by, and she smiled as she sat up and ran her hands through her tangled hair. What had become of the woman who froze at a kiss? Paige pushed back the covers and padded barefoot across the bedroom. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror, and she stopped.
Was that woman with the tousled hair really she? Her mouth looked swollen—she took a step closer and touched her fingers to her lips. Quinn’s kisses had done that, she thought in amazement. And the gentle nip of his teeth had left that faint mark on her throat.
She laughed softly as she studied her reflection. The signs of his possession were on her flesh. Her skin seemed to glow with a new radiance, and there was a rosy hue in her cheeks that had never been there before.
The ruby ring no longer lay between her breasts. The delicate chain had broken while they had made love, and the ring lay now on the night table. Everything was different, she thought, but it was what she felt in her heart that mattered the most. Paige wrapped her arms around herself and twirled in a circle, her bare feet dancing swiftly across the carpeted floor.
I love him. She took a deep breath. ‘I love him,’ she whispered to the silent room. ‘I love him for all time with all my heart.’
She swept up an armful of clothing and dressed quickly. Quinn was waiting for her downstairs. Quinn. Her husband. The realisation made her dizzy with anticipation. Not so long ago, she remembered, she’d stood in this same room, thinking the same thought—but how different that morning had been. She’d hated Quinn then.
No, that wasn’t true. She’d never hated him. She’d always loved him, always. Anger and confusion had stood between them, but that was behind them now. She was Quinn’s wife. His wife. It was what he’d called her all through the night. And today—today, she thought, putting her hand to the doorknob, was the first day of their honeymoon.
The smell of coffee greeted her as she ran down the stairs. The door to the library stood open, but it was empty, as was the small, formal dining room. Of course—Norah wasn’t due back until evening. A quick rush of pink splashed across her cheeks. They had the house all to themselves. And it was raining. A fire would be lovely, and there was that soft afghan that was draped across one of the wing chairs in the library…
The kitchen was empty, too. A percolator stood in the centre of the table, filled with dark liquid, and two mugs stood beside it, but Quinn was nowhere to be seen. Paige frowned and turned back into the hallway. She peered into the empty sitting room. Was he upstairs? Her pulse raced. Yes, he must be. He was probably in the guest bedroom, taking his clothes from the wardrobe, readying them for transfer back to his own room. To their room…
She was on the second stair when she heard a noise in the library. But she’d looked there. With a shrug of her shoulders, she padded along the hall and into the room.
No wonder she’d missed him the first time. He was far to the left of the door, almost hidden from view behind it. Paige stepped into the room, her bare feet making no sound on the carpeted floor. Quinn was standing in front of the campaign table, his back to her, and she watched as he lifted and twisted one of the brass corner gussets. A concealed drawer sprang open.
‘Caught you red-handed,’ she said with laugh. ‘Secret drawers full of treasure, hmm?’
He spun around towards her. ‘Didn’t you ever hear of knocking before you enter a room?’
Her heart plummeted. ‘I… I didn’t know you… I didn’t mean to intrude.’ She stared at him in silence, and then she nodded. ‘I’ll be in… in my room.’
‘Paige.’
‘What?’ She had to whisper the word to keep her voice from breaking.
He took an envelope from the drawer, put it in his jacket pocket, and slid the drawer shut with a click. When he looked at her again, there was a polite smile on his face.
‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you. You startled me, that’s all.’
She nodded. ‘That’s… that’s all right, Quinn. I… I… She looked down at her shoeless feet and then at him. ‘I guess you didn’t hear me. It’s a habit of mine,’ she said with a quick smile. ‘Padding around barefoot…’
Her voice drifted away. Why hadn’t it occurred to her that things might be strained between them this morning? It would take time to ease into their new relationship. But they had all the time in the world. Years stretched ahead of them, years filled with love and discovery.
‘I made coffee,’ he said. ‘It’s in the kitchen. I’m sure it’s not as good as Norah’s, but…’
‘It smells wonderful,’ she said quickly, watching him as he walked to his desk and pulled open a drawer. ‘Why don’t you pour yourself a cup and drink it while I make breakfast?’
He slammed the drawer shut and pulled out another. ‘Breakfast?’
Paige nodded. ‘Something special. How about some pancakes and bacon? Or waffles—I’m pretty good at waffles. My father always loved my waff…’
Dear God, what had made her say that? Quinn straightened up and stared at her.
‘Your father,’ he said softly. ‘Yes, how is he? You haven’t mentioned him in quite a while.’
‘He… he’s fine,’ she said quietly. ‘I had a letter from home just the other day. He says things are… are quiet at the office.’
‘Let’s hope he keeps things that way.’
The flatness of his voice turned her blood cold. For the first time, she realised that he was dressed for business. It was Saturday, but instead of his corduroys and turtleneck sweater he was wearing a suit. And his raincoat was draped over the back of a chair. A flight bag stood on the floor.
‘Are you… are you going somewhere?’
He snapped the bag shut. ‘Yes, I am. I’ve business in Edinburgh. Didn’t I mention it?’
‘No, no, you… you didn’t say anything about…’
‘I thought I had,’ he said briskly. He tossed the coat over his arm and started towards the door. ‘Well, no matter. You won’t be alone long; Norah’s due back this evening.’
Paige’s heart tumbled as she hurried after him to the front door. ‘But… but when will you be back, Quinn?’
He stopped at the door. ‘In a few days,’ he said finally.
‘A few days,’ she repeated in a whisper.
He nodded. ‘I’ll be back by the end of the week.’ He looked as if he wanted to say something more, but, after a pause, he turned and put his hand on the doorknob. ‘We can discuss things then.’
‘Discuss things?’ She swallowed hard. She heard herself repeating everything he said, as if she were a mynah bird. ‘I don’t understand.’
‘Us. You, me.’ His voice was expressionless. ‘There’s no sense in going on like this, Paige. I want things settled.’
He opened the door and a gust of rain-chilled wind blew in from the street.
‘I thought… I thought we’d done that last night when you… when we…’
He swung around and faced her. His eyes were as flat as the sea before a storm.
‘We slept together. Don’t try to make more of it than that.’
She felt the blood drain from her face. A horn blared outside, and Quinn turned away.
‘My taxi is here. I’ve got to go, Paige.’ His voice was brusque. ‘We’ll talk when I get back.’
‘Quinn…’
But he was moving away from her, hurrying down the walk to the taxi. She watched a
s he opened the door and climbed inside; she watched until the black Austin merged with the grey, rainy street and disappeared.
She hardly remembered closing the door behind her.
CHAPTER TEN
THE LIBRARY was cool. A fire burned on the hearth, but the chill breath of the grey day had seeped into the room. Huddled in one of the wing chairs, staring into the dancing flames as she sipped a cup of bitter coffee, Paige tried to make sense out of what Quinn had said.
I want things settled.
She thought what had happened between them last night had done that.
We slept together.
But what they’d shared had been more than sex. Quinn knew that—he had to know it. Everything they’d done together last night, the wildly sweet hours of touching and kissing and learning, had been special.
Hadn’t it?
Don’t try to make more of it than that.
Her hand trembled as she put the cup down. Was that what she’d done?
She rose from the chair and walked to the French doors. What did she know of lovemaking? she thought as she drew aside the curtains and looked out at the rainswept garden. She had only the most limited experience. Maybe… maybe it was always supposed to be the way it had been last night.
Paige let the curtains fall into place. Not even she could believe that. She was inexperienced, but she was no fool. There was good sex and there was bad sex, just as there were good lovers and bad ones. And Quinn—Quinn was a skilled lover, a virile, handsome man in the prime of life. He knew how to please a woman. God, yes, he knew.
Don’t make more of it…
She’d spent the night in his arms, but he’d never once said, I love you. He’d called her his sweet Juliet, he’d told of the pleasure she gave him, of how much he wanted her, but what did that mean when you compared it to the simple words he’d never uttered?
Paige sank into the chair and stared into the fire. Suppose she’d only been kidding herself? Suppose, under all the laughter and the easy camaraderie, Quinn had never stopped hating her? What a special torture there would be in using her heart as well as her body.
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