Bailey's Irish Dream

by Debby Conrad

  “Okay. You’ve been in the kitchen since you got here. Would you like to take a break? I could show you around the house.”

  “Sure, in a minute.” Reaching across the counter Quinn grabbed a Far Niente Chardonnay from the wine chiller. “I’ve been saving this for a special occasion.” With a corkscrew he began working at the cork and pulled it free with a pop. “Would you like some?”

  “No way,” she said, shaking her head back and forth. She needed to be alert when her parents arrived. Besides, she’d had more than her limit last night.

  Bailey watched Quinn pour a small amount of the golden liquid into a glass. He swirled, sniffed and tasted it. Seeing his lips on the edge of the glass, a shiver spread through her, her mind burning with the memory of his drugging kiss.

  “Cold?” he asked, running his eyes down the length of her. She suddenly felt naked and had an urge to put on a snow suit, or something equally protective against his penetrating eyes.

  “No, I’m fine. Ready?” Without waiting for his answer, she spun away from him.

  * * * * * * * * * *

  In the living room the first thing that caught Quinn’s eye was the expansive wall of windows. Working his way past the white baby grand piano, he stood in front of the glass and stared out at the lake. “Nice view.”

  “Thanks,” Bailey said. “I love watching the sun set from this room.”

  Quinn turned back around, taking in everything. White leather sofa, white chairs, white walls. Even the silk floral arrangements were white. Everything except for the oriental carpet covering the hardwood floor and a few stained glass pieces scattered about the room. “I take it you like white?”

  She looked around the room as if she were seeing it for the first time and frowned. “Do you think it’s too pristine?”

  “Maybe a little. It’s pretty, but it looks . . . untouchable.” The room reminded him of something he’d seen in a magazine. And people didn’t really live in those rooms, did they?

  He especially liked the cathedral ceiling, the floor-to-ceiling fireplace, and the way the balcony to the upstairs faced the living room.

  “There’re three bedrooms upstairs,” she said, following his gaze. “Plenty of room for my family to stay.”

  Quinn nodded. “This is nice,” he said, fingering a stained glass lamp with two dragonflies woven into the pattern.

  Bailey’s face lit up. “Do you really like it?”

  “Absolutely,” he said, examining the fine detail again.

  “You can have it.” Quinn eyed her suspiciously, but before he could question her motive she said, “I can make another one.”

  “You made this?” Quinn looked around the room, scoping out the other colorful items he’d seen.

  “Yes. I made all the stained glass pieces in this room.”

  Nodding, he said, “I’m impressed.”

  “Would you like to see my studio?” When Quinn said yes, she wove her way back through the kitchen and out the service door to the garage.

  On one side of the two-car, air-conditioned garage was Bailey’s Porsche, but the far side was clearly her domain. Looking up, he realized he’d never seen a garage with a skylight before. There were several long tables loaded with glass in every color of the rainbow. Lining the “studio” walls were numerous finished pieces decorating the shelves along the back. Lamps, clocks, candy dishes, vases, and dozens of sun catchers in assorted shapes and designs. She had enough inventory to open her own shop.

  “Have you ever thought about selling some of this stuff?”

  She beamed. “Yes, as a matter of fact, I have. Yesterday I asked Gwen to find me a storefront.”

  Quinn nodded. “That sounds like a plan.” Staring at her, he found himself wondering what she was all about. A talented woman who was afraid of disappointing her mother. And she’d wasted all that time on the three men who had dumped her. Unless there was a side to her he hadn’t seen, those guys had to be nuts.

  “Well, let’s finish the tour,” Bailey suggested, heading for the kitchen door and interrupting his thoughts.

  Quinn followed her into the house and down a hallway, watching her backside with interest. He liked the way the cinnamon colored sheath she wore hugged her shapely hips. Stopping in front of a doorway, she said, “This is my bedroom, but there’s not much to see.” She turned around as if to leave.

  “Let me be the judge of that,” he said quickly, easing past her and into the room. The first thing he noticed was the scent of Bailey’s jasmine perfume permeating the air.There was an antique sleigh bed covered with a down comforter. White, of course. The bed looked soft and inviting. A white, long-haired cat, lying in the center of the bed, must have thought so too. It raised its head and glared at him as if he had no business being in the room.

  “That’s Jade,” Bailey said to Quinn. “Say hello, Jade.” The cat promptly turned its head away. “She’s shy until she gets to know you.”

  Quinn suddenly had a vision of Bailey lying naked on top of the covers. He tried to erase the picture from his mind, telling himself he’d probably never see her naked. In fact, after tonight he’d probably never see her again. Period. Naked, or otherwise. “Are you bored yet?” Bailey asked.

  Quinn turned to face her. “No, not at all.”

  Her hand went to her hair and pushed it behind her ear. “There isn’t much more to see, unless you get excited about laundry rooms.”

  I’d like to see you. Naked. He moved close enough to smell her perfume.

  Her eyes widened. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

  “I thought maybe we might pick up where we left off this morning. For your parents’ sake.” He gave her a devilish wink and ran a finger down her bare arm, smiling when she shivered. “We could use the practice, don’t you think?”

  Bailey’s eyes burned with wide-eyed innocence as she focused on his face. She swallowed nervously and said, “Maybe you’re right. One more kiss might help ease the tension.”

  It was all he needed to hear. Pulling her roughly to him, Quinn swooped down on her mouth and forced her lips open with his thrusting tongue. The sweet taste of her made the blood pound in his brain. Refusing to stop at one kiss, he let his mouth linger, tracing the soft fullness of her lips with his tongue before devouring her mouth again.

  His hands roamed intimately over her breasts, her nipples firming instantly under his touch. Tiny gasps of pleasure escaped her lips as he continued to tease the tiny buds. Bailey wound her arms around his waist and held him tightly.

  Moving his hands from her breasts to her hips he pulled her boldly against his erection. As he roused her passion, his own grew stronger. Electricity hummed through his body, until he thought he might explode. He knew it was pointless to go on, but he couldn’t seem to get enough of her.

  Hearing what sounded like a doorbell he carefully, and reluctantly, eased his mouth from hers. “I’d like to get a little more practice time in,” Quinn said in ragged breaths, “ but I think I heard your doorbell.”

  She opened her eyes slowly, her trembling limbs clinging to him. “Doorbell?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper, her eyes glowing with an inner fire. Then, as if his words finally hit her, she pushed away from him and smoothed her dress with her hands. “Omigod, they’re here!” The doorbell sounded again, but Bailey just stood there, staring up at him.

  “Do you want me to get it?” he suggested, wondering if she were frozen in place.

  She brought a hand to her swollen lips and traced a finger along the edge of her bottom lip. “No, no, I’ll get it,” she insisted, but still didn’t move.

  Quinn reached out and touched her bare arms. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, of course.” She ran a hand through her hair. “Do I look all right?”

  “You look gorgeous.” Like you’ve just been kissed senseless.

  The heavy lashes that shadowed her cheeks flew upward, and intense astonishment touched her flushed face. “Thanks.” She sucked in a deep breath,
smiled, and said, “Let’s go.”

  Quinn followed her to the door, wondering if he was doing the right thing. Sure he needed the money, and yes he and Bailey had a deal. But suddenly the thought of not only trying to dupe her family, but make them disgusted with him had lost its appeal. Not that the idea had ever sounded appealing in the first place, but a deal was a deal, right?

  Since it was too late to back out, Quinn braced himself for the meeting. He needed to make a very bad first impression. Act like a jerk, he told himself over and over again. For one hundred thousand dollars, he supposed he could do that without too much effort.

  A cacophony of laughter and squealing voices filled the house as soon as the door opened. Hugs and kisses followed. When things finally quieted down, Bailey turned and gave Quinn a brief smile. “Mom, Dad, everyone, this is Stanley Davenport. My fiancé.”

  Doyle Maguire narrowed his eyes at Quinn, his lips twitching downward. He was a tall, thin man, with dark red hair and bushy brows, and he didn’t look pleased to meet his future son-in-law. In fact, he looked perturbed.

  Quinn chose him as his first victim. Slapping the man on the back as hard as he could without knocking him over, Quinn said, “Hey, old man. Good to finally meet you.”

  Doyle’s face went grim as he stared at Quinn in silence, his mouth slackening.

  Next Quinn moved to Mimi Maguire, a petite, attractive woman. Gathering her in his arms, he lifted her from her feet and spun her around. “Well, aren’t you just the prettiest thing.”

  “Oh, my!” Mimi shrieked, her hands grabbing at her strawberry-blonde French twist. Quinn set the woman on her feet, keeping his hands on her arms to steady her. Her expression was tight with strain. “Good heavens, I wasn’t expecting anything like that.”

  Bailey turned a vivid shade of scarlet. “Stanley,” she said, reprimanding him.

  Quinn gathered her to him and smacked his lips against hers. “Yes, sweet cakes?”

  Bailey’s lips formed a tight smile as she squirmed out of his reach. “I--You haven’t met my sister Kaitlyn yet.”

  “Hey, Kaitlyn,” Quinn greeted her. Kaitlyn was a small blonde who was an exact clone of her mother except for her protruding stomach. It was so round it reminded him of a basketball.

  Kaitlyn took a step backward, warding him off with her hands. “Please don’t pick me up. After traveling for eight hours, I’m liable to wet my pants.”

  “Kaitlyn,” her mother scolded, rolling her eyes and shaking her head from side to side.

  Quinn chuckled, stepped forward and smacked Kaitlyn on the lips. He liked her spirit. “Looks like it could pop out at any time,” he said, boldly patting her stomach.

  “Don’t I wish?” she answered, a slight smile pulling at the corners of her mouth.

  Kaitlyn’s husband, a dark blond man built like a linebacker, didn’t look too pleased with Quinn, but he thrust his hand forward anyway. “I think I’ll skip the kiss and the slap on the back and just shake your hand. I’m Mark Lowell, Bailey’s brother-in-law. Welcome to the family.”

  “Thanks,” Quinn said, turning away to look at the three wide-eyed children standing beside Mark. “Let’s see, you guys must be Krystal, Pancho and Dudley. Right?”

  The kids giggled and shook their heads. A little girl with strawberry blonde ringlets stepped closer, and Quinn couldn’t resist picking her up. She looked at him with bright green eyes and said, “I’m Kelly. And that’s Patrick.” She pointed to the younger boy wearing glasses, who promptly stuck his tongue out at her. His two front teeth were missing.

  “And that’s Dillon,” she added, her finger aiming at the taller boy. “Dillon said a bad word in the car.”

  “All right!” Quinn said, giving the boy a high-five. Dillon glanced guiltily at his mother, then grinned sheepishly at Quinn.

  “Stanley, I take it you like children?” Mrs. Maguire asked, reaching to take her granddaughter from his arms. Probably afraid he’d contaminate her.

  “Well, sure I do. I’ve got three of my own. Or is it four?” That got him a few gasps. Including one from Bailey. “Oh, yeah, it’s four. I always forget about Huey.”

  Doyle clenched his fists and narrowed his eyes at Quinn while Bailey looped her arm through his, pinching his upper arm. “Darling, you never told me you were married before.”

  “I wasn’t,” he said with a wink. “Well, just that one time, but that doesn’t count, since Bambi and I were both drunk.”

  Bailey’s head shot up. “Bambi?”

  “Well, I think we’ve all heard enough,” Mrs. Maguire said, gathering her grandchildren to her, and scowling at Quinn. “Why don’t you children go wash your hands and faces?” The kids walked away, reluctantly. Probably afraid they’d miss something important.

  “Wait until you see what Stanley prepared for dinner,” Bailey said, obviously trying to change the subject.

  “Stanley cooks?” This from Mr. Maguire. “I thought he played the piano.”

  “He does both, Dad.”

  “Uh, huh. Well, since he’s so multi-talented, we could use some help unloading the van. And besides, I’d like to have a word with him.”

  “I’m sure he’d be happy to help,” Bailey said, giving Quinn’s arm another pinch. “Wouldn’t you, Stanley?”

  Quinn wrinkled his face and pushed a hand to the small of his back. “Gee, sorry. Bad back.” Elbowing Mark in the side he winked, and in a low voice said, “I’ll tell you how I got it later, after the kiddies go to bed.”

  Mark shot him a look of disgust. Quinn would be very lucky if he didn’t get the crap beat out of him before the night was over. He hated acting like such a jerk. Bailey’s family seemed like nice people, and he didn’t like lying to them. He only hoped they were buying his act so he could end this fiasco soon. Looking at the disgusted faces staring back at him Quinn smiled inwardly. Yep, they were buying it all right.

  “Mom, would you mind checking on the kids,” Kaitlyn asked, “while Dad and Mark unload the van?”

  “Of course I wouldn’t mind. They’re my grandchildren,” she said, and off she went.

  Kaitlyn grabbed Bailey’s hand. “I need to talk to you. Alone,” she said, giving Quinn the evil eye and dragging her sister away. And here he’d thought Kaitlyn liked him.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  As soon as they were alone in Bailey’s bedroom, Kaitlyn whirled on her. “What in the world is going on here?”

  Bailey was careful to avoid her sister’s eyes. Kaitlyn had always been able to see through her. “What do you mean?” she asked innocently. Lowering herself to the bed, she ran her fingers through Jade’s white silky fur.

  “I mean, what are you doing with a loser like Stanley?”

  Meeting Kaitlyn’s eyes briefly, Bailey said, “Stanley’s not a loser.” Well, maybe Stanley was, but Quinn certainly wasn’t.

  “Yeah, right.” Kaitlyn rolled her eyes for effect. “And that comment about having a bad back. Hah!” She slapped a hand against her thigh and rolled her eyes again. “Bad back my butt! That guy looks as fit as can be. In fact, the only asset he has is his body. And maybe his eyes,” she added as she began pacing back and forth, her perfectly round belly leading the way.

  “He has a nice smile too, don’t you think?” Bailey had no idea what had made her say that. Other than the fact that she’d been thinking about Quinn’s mouth and lips a lot since that morning. And those kisses. She still hadn’t recovered completely.

  Kaitlyn stopped her pacing and looked at her ruefully, her brows pulling together in a frown. “Oh, honey, you have it bad. How did you ever end up with someone like him? You always went for the skinny, nerdy types. What happened?”

  She did? Shrugging, Bailey said, “I thought he was a nice guy. I guess he had me fooled. Mom and Dad probably won’t want me to marry him after all.” She tried not to sound relieved. She hated lying to her sister, but Kaitlyn had never been able to keep a secret.

  “You’ve got to be kidding.” Kaitlyn started a new pat
h in the white plush carpet. “How could you even think about marrying a guy who not only doesn’t tell you he has kids, but doesn’t even know how many kids he has!”

  Stopping directly in front of Bailey, Kaitlyn raised her finger and pointed it at Bailey’s nose. “And believe me, if Stanley forgot about poor little Huey, God only knows how many other kids he’s conveniently forgotten over the years. There’s probably a passel of them somewhere. Maybe even some he never knew about.” She released a huge breath, her strawberry blonde bangs lifting skyward and then settling over her brow. “Loser,” she said, “L-O-S-E-R.” As if Bailey didn’t know how to spell the word.

  Bailey had never realized how protective her sister was. And she’d never seen her this angry. “We’re going to march right out there and tell Stanley to take a hike,” Kaitlyn said.

  Bailey quickly got to her feet. “Okay, but can we wait until after dinner? He went to an awful lot of trouble, and I’d hate to spoil--”

  “What is the matter with you!” Kaitlyn came closer and touched a hand to Bailey’s forehead. “The love bug must have bitten you hard.” She looked away for a moment, then flopped onto the bed with an audible sigh and stared at her shoes. “You’re hopeless. I’m wasting my time.”

  Bailey sat down beside her sister and touched her hand. “Stop worrying about me. This will all work out. You’ll see.”

  Swiveling slightly toward Bailey, Kaitlyn said, “Promise me you won’t marry that guy.”

  Bailey smiled. “I promise.”

  “You don’t seem very upset by any of this. I mean, the guy lied to you, for heaven’s sake. Show some emotion. For someone who’s been jilted twice and then deceived by that overgrown jock . . .” Kaitlyn shook her head, a stern-faced expression locked in place.