He lowered himself to the ground. Reaching out, he took her hand. ‘I’m not rushing you, I swear I’m not, but...do you think there’s even the slightest chance that you could ever love me?’
Her throat ached. ‘Oh, I love you, Aidan, there’s no doubt about that.’ She held up a hand to keep him where he was when he made as if to gather her up in his arms. Tears burned behind her eyes but she refused to let them fall. ‘The thing is, you see, I know that sometimes love isn’t enough.’
He stared at her and she swore she saw the life drain out of his face inch by inch. The lump in her throat nearly choked her.
‘So that’s it, is it?’ The words dropped out of him, flat and colourless.
Was it? Slowly she shook her head. ‘You’re not like Phillip. You’re not like my parents. I...I need to think that through more thoroughly.’ She had to work out what it meant for them—if it meant anything for them.
He continued to stare at her, but she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.
‘You said you wouldn’t rush me!’
He dragged a hand down his face.
She chafed her arms against the rising tide of fear that threatened to swallow her. ‘If you give me an ultimatum—make a decision now or else—I...I would have to tell you goodbye.’ It almost killed her to say it, but she forced the words out all the same.
He shook his head as if it were a weight he could barely lift. ‘I’m not going to give you an ultimatum, Quinn.’
But his face had gone grey and lines fanned out from his mouth and she had to close her eyes. ‘Forgive me for dragging this out, Aidan,’ she croaked. ‘But I have to be sure.’
She set her back against the post and pushed upright. ‘Not just for my sake, but for Robbie and Chase’s too. And for yours.’
With that she turned and headed for the house.
‘Quinn!’
It was a cry of raw pain. Tears scalded her eyes. ‘I’ll call you. I promise.’ She didn’t turn around. She didn’t break stride. She kept her eyes fixed forward.
* * *
Quinn spent the next week missing Aidan so much her mind refused to answer a single question she needed it to. And those questions went around and around in an endless litany, denying her even a moment of peace. What if Vera never warmed to her or the boys? What if Aidan’s friends refused to accept her, convinced she wasn’t good enough for him? Would she be able to cope with seeing her parents at other society ‘dos’? What if Aidan regretted setting up a practice locally? What if he found himself pining for his firm in Sydney? He’d blame her. What would she do if he broke her heart? It’d send her into the kind of spin she shied from even thinking about.
What if...? What if...? What if...?
She woke in the middle of the night, cheeks wet, and aching for him with everything she had. She stood on the brink of something amazing and exhilarating that could end in disaster. And she couldn’t work out if it was worth it or not.
* * *
The following Saturday night she and Mara played Monopoly with the boys. Robbie turned to her. ‘Mum, do you think I’ll ever find a girl I’ll want to marry and who’ll want to marry me too?’
She handed Chase the dice for his turn. ‘I’m sure you will, honey.’
‘But Alison at school says I have to marry her!’
Mara chuckled. Quinn sucked her lip into her mouth and bit on it until she could school her features. ‘I promise you don’t have to marry anyone that you don’t want to.’
He gazed at her gloomily. ‘But she’s nice. I like her. So why don’t I want to marry her when she wants to marry me?’
Ah... ‘That’s the way it goes sometimes, honey. We can be friends with lots and lots of people and we can like them lots and lots, but it doesn’t mean we want to marry them. You can’t force someone to want to marry you. It doesn’t work that way.’
He stared back and finally nodded. ‘Okay.’
He seemed happy to take her word for it.
‘Is Aidan going to visit us tomorrow?’
She didn’t like the way the conversation moved from marriage to Aidan as if...as if it were some logical leap. She fought back a frown. ‘I don’t think so.’
‘Doesn’t he like us any more?’
‘Sure he does,’ Chase chimed in. ‘He likes Mum and us best of all. He was sad in Perth. But he wasn’t sad when he was with us.’
It took all her strength to choke back a sob. ‘Bedtime,’ she croaked.
She fell into her chair after putting the boys to bed. Mara pushed a mug of tea across to her. She tried to dredge up a smile. ‘Some days they’re exhausting.’
Mara merely raised an eyebrow.
Quinn burst into tears.
‘Sorry,’ she mumbled when she finally had control of them.
Mara sipped her tea. ‘Would it be of any interest to you to know that Aidan is staying at the Ross’s bed and breakfast at the end of the lane?’
Quinn shot to her feet. He was? Really? She half turned towards the door and then halted. She sat again and chafed her arms.
‘Are you afraid of being happy, Quinn?’
She curled her hands around her mug. ‘I’m afraid of making another mistake.’ And then all those questions that had been plaguing her came pouring out—about his mother and his friends and his job and her parents and what ifs galore.
Mara sat back and surveyed her. ‘Does what your parents think have any bearing on your decision to see Aidan again or not?’
‘No, of course not.’
Mara didn’t say anything, but she lifted that darn eyebrow again. ‘Aidan is a grown man. And an intelligent one. He knows his own mind.’
She hunched over her mug. ‘You’re saying I should extend the same trust to him that I do to myself.’
Mara remained silent. Quinn stared into her tea. Suddenly, just like that, everything stilled. Her head snapped up. She’d been hiding behind all of those issues when...when it all came down to a simple question of trust.
Did she trust Aidan?
She shot to her feet. ‘The B&B at the end of the lane?’
‘That’s right.’
Quinn grabbed a wrap from the hook by the door and set off down their lane at a run. She didn’t even stop to catch her breath when she reached the B&B, but burst up to the front door and knocked.
She stared blankly at the man who answered. Oh! She kicked herself. Of course Aidan wouldn’t answer the door. ‘Hello, Mr Ross, it’s Quinn Laverty from the olive farm. I understand that Aidan Fairhall is staying here and I wondered if I could have a word with him.’
‘Sorry, love, but he’s not here.’
He’d left? Her shoulders sagged. She backed up a step. ‘I’m sorry to have bothered you.’ The words almost choked her. ‘Goodnight, Mr Ross.’
She turned away. The door closed behind her, shutting her out in the dark. Tears stung her eyes. She tossed her pashmina around her shoulders and held on tight. Of course Aidan had left. What hope had she given him?
‘Quinn?’
She halted mid-sniffle. With a heart that barely dared to hope, she turned. ‘Aidan? But...but Mr Ross said...’
He’d said that Aidan wasn’t there. He hadn’t said Aidan had decamped back to Sydney.
‘I went out for a walk.’
She couldn’t drag her gaze from him.
He shifted his weight. ‘You wanted to see me?’
A smile built through her. He was here and it had to mean something. It had to mean he hadn’t given up on her. Oh, how she loved him! ‘Shall I be a hundred per cent honest?’
He folded his arms. ‘It’s the only way.’
She pulled in a breath, pulled her wrap about her more securely. ‘I’ve spent all week wanting to see you, Aidan.’
‘All you had to do was pick up the phone.’
She took a step closer, breathed him in. ‘I’ve not just wanted it, but craved it with everything I am. It freaked me out.’
‘I see.’
He sta
red at her. In the moonlight his face looked beautiful but grim and her heart caught. ‘Yes, you probably do. You’ve seen everything much clearer than I have.’
Something quickened in his face. Suddenly she recognised what it was—hope. ‘Oh! I’m not trying to drag this out and make it harder for you, Aidan! I love you. I want to be with you. I want there to be an us. If that’s what you still—’
She didn’t get any further. She found herself in Aidan’s arms, caught up in a vortex of desire, relief, frustration and remembered pain as his mouth came down on hers and they kissed like wild things rather than the polite civilised people they pretended to be to the world. When they eventually broke apart they were both breathing heavily. Quinn rested her forehead against his jaw. ‘Wow.’
He cupped her face and drew away to stare down at her. ‘You mean it?’
‘Yes.’
He smiled then and it held so much joy it swept all of the old pain away. ‘I love you, Quinn.’
‘I love you, Aidan.’
‘I love your boys too. I’m going to be the best father I can be to them.’
Father?
He grinned at the way her eyes widened. ‘When I ask you to marry me you are going to say yes, aren’t you?’
She didn’t even hesitate. ‘Yes.’
‘Excellent. Now that we have the important points out of the way, you want to tell me how you finally came to the right conclusion—that we could work and that we should be together?’
She smiled up at him. ‘I only realised it all a moment or two before I came hurtling up the lane to find you. All of those reasons I’d been giving you for why we couldn’t be together, I realised they were just issues I’d been hiding behind. The question I should’ve been asking myself was—Do I trust you? When I finally asked the right question, it all fell into place.’
She sobered. ‘I do trust you, Aidan. I asked myself what you’d do if you were unhappy in a relationship.’ She shook her head. ‘You wouldn’t just walk away. You wouldn’t seethe or fester in silence either. You’d work at making things better.’ Communication was important to him. ‘You don’t have a shallow heart. You have a heart that is deep and true and will weather storms.’
His eyes darkened. ‘I’ll weather any storm with you, Quinn. But do you believe that you have a heart that is deep and true too?’
That was the risk Aidan took, she suddenly saw.
Her heart pounded. Ice touched her nape, but she refused to let the fear overcome her. She thought back over her life and how she’d dealt with her parents...with Phillip...and with her two gorgeous boys. Gradually a weight started to lift and the chill receded. ‘Yes,’ she breathed, beaming her love straight at him. ‘Yes, I do.’
His hands went around her waist, drawing her closer. ‘My lovely girl,’ he whispered against her lips.
She cupped his face in her hands. ‘I’m sorry it took me so long to realise the truth. Tell me you forgive me. I love you, Aidan. I love you with my whole heart.’
‘Sweetheart—’ he grinned down at her ‘—there’s nothing to forgive. I needed you to be as sure about us as I was.’
She sobered. ‘And are you?’
‘I love you. I want to build a life with you. I have never been surer of anything in my life.’
His lips descended to hers and if she’d had any lingering doubts they’d have melted away. She flung her arms around his neck and kissed him back with all the love in her overflowing heart.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt from SAFE IN THE TYCOON’S ARMS by Jennifer Faye.
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CHAPTER ONE
A DEAFENING CRACK of thunder rumbled through the darkened house. Kate Whitley pressed a hand to her pounding chest. She’d hated storms since she was a little kid. A brilliant flash of lightning sent shards of light slashing across the hallway while rain pelted the window.
Mother Nature certainly had a wicked sense of humor. Actually, it seemed as though life as a whole was mocking Kate. Absolutely nothing was going according to plan, no matter how hard she fought to put things right.
Her fingers pushed against the cold metallic plate on the swinging hall door. Inside the kitchen, the glare from the overhead light caused her to squint. What in the world was going on? She could have sworn she’d turned everything off before going upstairs. Hadn’t she?
She sighed and shook her head. Her mind must be playing tricks on her. The long nights of tossing and turning instead of sleeping were finally catching up to her. And it couldn’t have happened at a worse time. In a few more hours, she had to be fully alert. There were decisions only she could make—lifesaving decisions.
If only she could get a little shut-eye, she’d be able to think clearly. But first, Mother Nature had to quiet down. No one could rest with all this ruckus.
It didn’t ease her nerves being away from home, even if she was staying in a New York City mansion. This place was nothing like her two-bedroom, ranch-style house in Pennsylvania. Though this oversize house contained some of the most breathtaking architecture, there was something missing—the warmth that made a building more than just a place to hang your coat, the coziness that made it home.
In a big city where she barely knew anyone, she and this house had a couple of things in common—being lonely and forgotten. Somehow it seemed like fate that she’d ended up in this deserted mansion. A warm, loving home had somehow always eluded her, and just when she thought she’d made one of her own, it too was about to be snatched out from under her.
Sadness weighed heavily on her as her bare feet moved silently across the kitchen tiles. The coldness raced up through her pink painted toes to her bare legs and sent goose bumps cascading down her arms. Spring may have brought warmer days, but the nights were still chilly. She rubbed her palms up and down her arms, willing away her discomfort. Perhaps her long T-shirt wasn’t the warmest choice for this soggy night, but with her living out of a suitcase, her choices were quite limited.
She yawned and opened the door of the stainless-steel refrigerator. She hadn’t had any appetite until now. With so much riding on this upcoming meeting, she’d ended up with a stress headache for most of the day. But back here ensconced between these quiet, peaceful walls, the pain had loosened its vicelike grip.
Now she needed something to ease her hunger pangs. Other than a few meager groceries she’d placed in there earlier, the glass shelves were bare. The friend who’d let her stay here free of charge said the owner was out of town and wouldn’t be back anytime soon. From the empty cabinets to the dust-covered bedrooms, Kate deduced no one had lived here in quite a while.
With an apple in hand, she filled a glass of water. She’d just turned off the faucet when she heard faint but distinct footsteps. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. Either this place had some mighty big rats...or she wasn’t alone.
“Stop right there!” boomed a male voice.
So much for the rat theory.
Her heart lodged in her throat, blocking a terrified scream. Who was this man? And what did he want with her? Her lungs started to burn. Was he a thief, a desperate junkie...or worse?
She struggled to suck air past the enormous lump in her throat. A nervous tremor in her hand caused droplets of water to spill over the rim of the glass. Why had she put herself in such peril by making the rash decision to stay i
n this deserted house alone? After all, what did she know about her newfound friend? Not much. They’d only met a week ago. The older woman had seemed so nice—so understanding in Kate’s time of need.
She wondered if a scream would carry to any of the neighboring houses on the block. Probably not. This house came from an era when structures were built with thick, sturdy walls. She was on her own.
“You shouldn’t be here.” She fought to keep her voice steady. “This place has a burglar alarm. It won’t be long until the police show up. I haven’t seen your face. You can escape out the back and I won’t tell anyone.”
“I don’t think so. Turn around.”
Not about to let this stranger know how much he frightened her, she placed the glass on the counter, leveled her shoulders and took an unsteady breath. When she went to turn, her feet wouldn’t move. They were stuck to the floor as though weighted down in concrete.
A crescendo of thunder reverberated through her body. The house plunged into darkness. Kate bit down on her bottom lip to keep a frightened gasp bottled up.
Don’t panic. Stay calm.
Could this really be happening? What had she done to piss off Fate and have it turn on her? Hysterical laughter swelled in her throat. With effort, she choked it down. It wouldn’t help anything for this man to think she was losing it.
Drawing on every bit of courage she could muster, she forced her feet to move. Once fully turned around, she squinted into the dark shadows but could only make out the man’s vague outline. Who was he? What did he want with her?
Then, as though in answer to her prayer, the power blinked back on. When her vision adjusted, she found herself staring at a bare male chest. What in the world? Her wide-eyed gaze dropped farther past his trim waist but screeched to a halt upon the discovery of this stranger’s only article of clothing—navy boxer shorts.
This night was definitely getting stranger by the second.
She couldn’t resist a second glance at her sexy intruder. He definitely wasn’t a kid, having filled out in all the right places. She’d only ever seen defined muscles like his in the glossy pages of magazines, and this guy would qualify with his washboard abs. He must be around her age, maybe a little older.
Road Trip with the Eligible Bachelor Page 17