Chapter Eight #3
she delivered the message.
“Why?” Jill asked impatiently. “Hariette’s waiting!”
“Don’t you need to get your things first?” she asked on a hopeful note.
“No, I thought I told you, I keep a lot of my things at Dad’s. It’s a hassle taking things back and forth every weekend.”
“All right,” Meggie said with a weak smile and sighed. “I’ll see you next Friday.” With a quick wave of her hand, Jill ran
to meet her grandmother.
Rather than personally deliver Jill’s message, Meggie decided to phone.
“Yes.” Quinn’s response was made in a gruff, unfriendly voice.
“It’s Meggie,” she returned quickly. “Hariette met us outside the building. Jill wanted me to let you know that she’s gone
with her grandmother. I apologize if I disturbed your solitude,” she said in a voice that was dipped in honey. She could hear
his soft chuckle as she replaced the phone receiver.
Several times during the remainder of the afternoon Meggie had to force herself not to make an excuse to visit Quinn. Again
and again she found her thoughts centering on him. She was behaving worse than a worried wife. Was he taking the medication
the doctor ordered according to directions?
Meggie had brought the tablets in to him with a glass of water before. Maybe he didn’t know where she’d placed the prescription?
Did he need her to fix him something to eat? He had never invited her into his apartment; if she checked up on him, would
he resent the intrusion into his privacy? A hundred questions shot out at her every time she turned around. It was impossible
to keep her mind involved in anything. Not a letter to her friend Jacquie, not a phone call to her father, not a classic Hollywood
movie playing on the television. Nothing.
Finally, when she was totally disgusted with herself, she took a bath, soaking in the hot, scented water for a long time,
to relax her mind as well as her body. The long auburn curls remained piled high on her head as she slipped into a full-length
velour robe that zipped up the front. Matching slippers, the same color pink as the robe, covered her feet.
Sorting through the cupboards for an idea of something to fix for dinner, Meggie was surprised at the rapid knock at her front
door. A hand replaced a stray curl in a disconcerted movement as she walked across the room.
“Yes,” she called.
“It’s Quinn,” came the muted reply.
Her hands fumbled slightly as Meggie turned the dead-bolt lock, stepping aside to admit him. Crazily she half expected him
to vanish as if her imagination had conjured up his image.
“Can I come in?” he questioned.
“Of course,” Meggie replied, amazed he had come to her. “Are you feeling all right?” She could have bitten her tongue the
minute the words were out. The last thing she wanted was for him to realize how much she was concerned.
“Fine thanks.” He sauntered past her, into the living room, to stand in front of the television.
“Movie any good?” He looked at her expectantly.
Meggie wasn’t aware she’d left the TV on. “I wasn’t really watching it,” she said; her emotions remained confused and slightly
muddled. “I was just going to fix myself some dinner. Would you like something to eat?”
“Sure.” He lowered himself onto her couch, his gaze leaving her to flicker briefly over the TV screen.
Why was it after all these weeks that Quinn had the power to unnerve her? While she was busy in the kitchen using what she
could find to mix together an appetizing casserole, Quinn remained in the living room, seemingly engrossed in the movie.
When she could no longer make an excuse to remain in the other room, Meggie moved into the living room with Quinn, positioning
herself at the other end of the couch.
Quinn glanced over to her and smiled one of those devastating smiles that had the power to melt her bones, his outstretched
arm indicating he wanted her to sit beside him. The thought of not accepting the silent invitation didn’t occur to Meggie.
There wasn’t any place in the world she’d rather be than near this man.
Quinn’s hand reached over and cupped her shoulder, bringing her against him.
“Why did you come?” she asked, pretending an interest in the movie.
The lines of his mouth deepened into smiling grooves as she glanced at him. “For all my complaints about wanting peace and
quiet, I discovered I was lonely without you fussing over me,” he admitted with a chagrined edge to his voice. “I like having
you around, Meggie, it’s something I could become very accustomed to. I didn’t know I was coming. I just got dressed and came.
I wanted to be with you.”
“Oh, Quinn,” she said and sighed, nestling closer to him, enjoying the feel of his sweater against her face, the uneven breath
that stirred the stray curls at her ear and the gentle feel of his lips as they sought the sensitive cord of her neck. Her
pulse hammered in her throat as waves of pleasure swept over her. When she raised her head, she found him staring at her with
a disturbing intensity.
Slowly, deliberately, his fingers released each pin from her hair, sending her curls cascading down her shoulders. His fingers
slid into the thickness, tilting her head back so her mouth could receive his kiss.
Meggie returned the hunger of his exploring kiss, opening her mouth to him. Pliant and responsive, she lay in his arms, a
helpless victim of their love. Throughout her life, Meggie had wondered if she would ever love a man as deeply as she did
Quinn. The intensity of her emotions shocked her now. There was no thought of her pride or her defenses; all she felt was
a deep and abiding love for this man who was capable of drugging her senses with the touch of his mouth.
“Dinner . . . is ready. . . .” she stammered at the sound of the timer from the stove.
Quinn’s hold loosened and he released her with a reluctance that thrilled her all the more.
Meggie stood on legs that threatened not to support her and moved into the kitchen. Opening a drawer, she took out a potholder.
Quinn followed her, sliding both hands around her waist, bringing her back against him, molding her against the length of
his masculine frame. Meggie inhaled sharply as he buried his face in the side of her neck, and closed her eyes to the swelling
tide of passion he could arouse within her.
“I want you, Meggie,” he whispered with a tenderness that took her breath away. “I never wanted anyone the way I want you
right now. But more than that, I love you. I didn’t mean for that to happen. Loving you caught me unaware. I fought against
it,” he admitted. “I don’t think I realized the depth of my feelings until I woke up the other night when I was sick and found
you sleeping in my room. Something happened to me as I watched you. I realized I couldn’t live without you, without your love.
I needed you.”
“Oh, Quinn,” she whispered on a long sigh, “I love you too.” She turned and her hands slid over the craggy line of his jaw,
tenderly cupping his face as she smiled into his eyes. “How I’ve prayed that you would love me. I don’t think I could bear
to live without you now.”
“You’ve given me a reason to dream again,” he mumbled against her hair.
“I have a dream,” she said softly. “If I close my eyes I can picture our child.” Her eyes misted with tears at the tremulously
happy picture her mind was forming. “He has your chin, strong and determined; his hair is the same shade of auburn as mine,”
she added.
“I’d like a son,” Quinn said with a wistful timbre in his voice. “I never dared hope that I’d have a family. I’d never believed
anyone could come into my life the way you have.”
“Oh, Quinn,” she murmured through the fog of happiness that surrounded her. She closed her eyes and leaned against him. The
lump of joy was building in her throat until it was almost impossible to talk.
His chuckle caused her to open her eyes. “Is ‘Oh, Quinn,’ all you can say, woman?”
Their gazes met, her eyes brimming with tears, smiling up at him with all the love in her heart.
“We’ll build a good life, the three of us.”
“The three of us?” There was a questioning quality in his tone.
“Yes, silly. You, Jill and me.”
His gaze narrowed, almost angry as he glared at an object behind her. “We’ll build a life together, Meggie, but Jill won’t
be included.”
Meggie stared at him in complete bewilderment. “How can you say that?” she asked, incredulous. “Jill’s your daughter, your
own flesh and blood. I love her, she’s part of you.”
Pulling her arms loose from around his waist, Quinn turned and ran a hand over his tired features. “Don’t misunderstand me,
I’m pleased you love Jill. She needs that. But she won’t be a part of you and me. She’d ruin our love, destroy what’s between
us.”
“Quinn,” Meggie pleaded. “You’re not making any sense. How could Jill possibly destroy our love?”
The doorbell chimed, catching Meggie off guard. She glanced toward the living room, her brow knit questioningly. She wasn’t
expecting anyone.
Quinn rammed his hands into his pockets and just as forcibly jerked them out again and raked his fingers through his hair.
“There’s something you need to understand, Meggie,” he said crisply, with a piercing look that cut right into her. “I never
wanted Jill.”
The doorbell chimed again this time, with two short, impatient rings.
“But Jill’s your daughter,” Meggie murmured fervently, walking across the apartment. She was turning the lock but paused before
opening the door when Quinn spoke again.
“Not only did I never want Jill, I’ve never loved her because . . .” He stopped abruptly, the color draining from his face
as Meggie opened the door.
Framed in the doorway, her eyes incredulously round and full of such pain that Meggie had to stifle a cry of alarm, was Jill.