A Woman's Heart

by JoAnn Ross

  “It’s cashmere. There’s something else in the pocket.” Quinn told himself that he shouldn’t be so gratified by her expression of pleasure. But dammit, he was.

  Nora drew a sharp breath as she found the small square gray velvet box. Surely he wouldn’t be buying her a ring? Only a foolishly romantic woman would be expecting such a gesture of eternal commitment after one single night of pleasure.

  Unfortunately, since Quinn’s arrival in Castlelough, she’d discovered she was, indeed, a foolishly romantic woman. Her heart was pounding like an Orangeman’s drum. Positive everyone else in the room could hear it, especially given the way they all seemed to be holding their breaths, she slowly opened the lid.

  “Oh, they’re pearls!” Mary exclaimed as she viewed the pair of earrings over her sister’s shoulder.

  “They’re lovely.” Exquisite, actually. But at the same time, not too flamboyant to wear to town or even to church. Nora looked up at Quinn. “And surely far too dear.”

  He shrugged. “They weren’t that expensive. Besides, they reminded me of you.” For discretion’s sake, considering that nearly her entire family was packed into the small bedroom, Quinn didn’t mention that the pearls had made him think of the way her skin had looked in the silvery moonlight.

  “Thank you.” Her warm gaze promised a more personal expression of her gratitude later.

  Quinn handed out the rest of the gifts he’d had such a surprisingly enjoyable time buying. Despite the excited buzz of conversation around him, he was having an increasingly difficult time keeping his mind off the idea of Nora wearing only those pearls in her earlobes and her new scent all over the rest of her, in his bed.

  Reassured that Fionna was, indeed, not gravely injured, the family gradually drifted from the room. As Quinn left, as well, intending to take Nora out for a drive to some distant secluded glen, Michael stopped him outside in the hallway.

  “I should be thanking you for taking care of my grandmother and sister,” he said.

  If he hadn’t been introduced earlier, Quinn never would have guessed that this huge man with the weathered face and large work-roughened hands was Brady’s son. Only his hair—unruly curls that were black as night as opposed to Nora’s and Fionna’s bright red ones—suggested his family roots.

  “It was my pleasure. And I didn’t do that much.”

  “More than any of us could have done,” Michael said, looking at Quinn in a measuring way that he suspected big brothers had been directing toward their kid sisters’ lovers since the beginning of time. “It eased Nora’s heart to have someone to take care of things for a change. And for that I’m grateful.”

  “Again, it wasn’t that big a deal.” Uncomfortable talking about the woman he was planning to get naked with as soon as possible, Quinn opted to change the subject. “She said you have a farm not far from here.”

  “Aye. About sixty acres split into sections scattered here and thereabouts. I grow mostly oats and barley for feed, with potatoes for sale and for the family. Kerr’s Pinks, which, unlike the more usual Golden Wonders, don’t break up after a good boil and bring a better price at the market.” He tacked on this last with obvious pride. “This year I put in sugar beets, as well. And of course, there’s the peat.”

  “I’ve seen the peat bogs. And the stacks beside the cottages and stores. I was hoping I’d have an opportunity to see it cut.”

  “As it happens, I’ll be doing that this week. If you’d like to come by on Wednesday, you can observe the process. Then afterward, perhaps we can have ourselves a pint and a chat.”

  About Nora. The man didn’t say the words out loud, but he didn’t need to.

  “I’d like that,” Quinn said, not quite truthfully. The novelist who considered everything grist for the writing mill was looking forward to seeing the Irishman engaged in a centuries-old task. The man who was sleeping with this muscular giant’s younger sister was not at all eager to get into a discussion about intentions. “But I insist on helping.”

  “Fine. We begin work about dawn. Nora will be able to give you directions.” He put on his wool cap, tugged it almost to his calm blue eyes, turned away and headed toward the stairs. Quinn watched him leave, then deciding to face this latest little problem on Wednesday, headed down the hall to Nora’s room.

  Quinn wasn’t surprised when, despite the gruff way he’d treated her this morning, she immediately accepted his invitation for a drive. After all, as Kate had pointed out and he himself had witnessed firsthand on more than one occasion, she was not one to hold a grudge.

  “That was very sweet of you to buy everyone all those gifts,” she murmured as they drove down a winding narrow dirt lane lined on either side with gray stone walls. “Mary’s going to look like a fairy-tale princess in that lovely dress.”

  It was white tulle, studded with seed pearls and crystals that should prove a stunning foil for her pale skin and dark hair. “She seemed to like it well enough,” he said, enjoying the memory of the teenager’s stunned look as she’d opened the white box with the gold script from one of Northern Ireland’s most exclusive stores.

  “She adores it. And I truly believed she was going to faint when you told her that you’d arranged for Parker Kendall to escort her to the May dance.”

  Parker was an actor, a current teenage heartthrob who was playing the part of a university student who joins forces with Shannon McGuire to rescue the Lady’s baby.

  “However did you get him to agree to such a thing?” Nora asked.

  “It wasn’t that difficult. I just promised him my tickets to the Lakers’ home games.”

  “The Lakers?”

  “A Los Angeles basketball team. Since I moved up the coast, I’m not using them, anyway, so it wasn’t any great sacrifice.”

  “I see.” Nora wasn’t certain, but she suspected that very little in Los Angeles came cheaply. “It was a remarkably kind thing to do.”

  “Actually I like the idea of that jerk Jack getting his comeuppance,” Quinn countered. “I almost wish I could be there to see it.”

  “The sisters sent home a note asking for volunteer chaperons. If you really mean that—”

  “No way.” Belatedly realizing she was only teasing, Quinn chuckled. “I’ve never claimed to be bucking for sainthood, sweetheart. And agreeing to chaperon a bunch of hormone-crazed teenagers has got to earn bonus martyr points.”

  She laughed with him. Then sobered. “I do have one little worry.”

  Her father was right. Her concern for everyone she loved was both blessing and curse.

  “What’s that?”

  “What if Parker Kendall proves even more dishonorable than Jack? After all, he is a handsome young man, and coming from California…”

  She made his adopted state sound like a modern-day Sodom and Gomorrah. Which, compared to the still-strict moral tenets of rural western Ireland, it probably was.

  “Don’t worry. I took care of that.”

  “Oh?”

  “I warned him that I’d rip off a vital part of his anatomy if he so much as touched anything he shouldn’t.”

  “Surely he didn’t believe that?” She glanced over at him, viewed his glowering countenance and managed a faint smile. “I suppose he might, after all.”

  “Absolutely.” Quinn’s wicked grin wiped away the scowl and had Nora smiling back.

  “Rory and Jamie were wild about the outer-space toy figures. I fear we’ll be battling aliens around the house for weeks. And Celia’s been wanting Bridal Barbie for ages, but I had to keep telling her we couldn’t afford it.”

  “I figured it might replace the martyred Saint Joan.”

  “You knew about that?”

  “Rory told me. Actually I found it rather inspired.”

  “You would. Since burning saints at the stake is probably something you might put in one of your books,” she countered easily. “And of course Maeve looks dashing in her new collar.” If she hadn’t already fallen in love with him, this gift alone woul
d have made Nora tumble.

  It was Kelly green plaid with a shamrock-shaped brass tab engraved with the dog’s name. A foolish gesture, perhaps, but Quinn couldn’t imagine not taking something home for the huge wolfhound who’d become his shadow.

  “She probably would have preferred a new bone,” he said. “But there weren’t any butcher counters at Austin’s Department Store.”

  “It was a lovely thought just the same.” Nora smiled, then slanted him a serious look. “You realize I should make John return his gift.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it’s far too much. People will talk.”

  Quinn shrugged. “So let them.”

  He figured he and Nora were probably already a major topic of conversation in Castlelough before today. And although he’d given up caring what people thought about him years ago, he still had to admit to a feeling of pride that people believed Nora was his.

  “The kid’s going to need a computer at college, Nora. In America, it’s a traditional graduation present.”

  “Perhaps in America. But not many Irish families can afford such a gift.”

  “That’s because not every family is generous enough to open their house to a Yank who had a helluva good time buying one.” When he realized she wasn’t smiling, he tried a different tack.

  “Your brother’s a smart kid, Nora. He works hard, obviously keeps his nose to the grindstone more than most his age, and he’s got an admirable goal.”

  “It was after our mother died that he decided to become a doctor,” she revealed quietly.

  “I kind of figured that might be the case.” Quinn knew better than anyone how the loss of a mother could change a kid’s life. In his own case, he’d often thought he owed a great deal of his success to working his ass off trying to prove to the world—and himself—he wasn’t anything like his alcoholic loser parents.

  “Competition to get into medical school is tough,” he went on. “Surely you’re not going to deny him every opportunity to gain an edge?”

  “No. I wouldn’t want to be doing that.” She sighed as the all-too-familiar Catholic guilt kicked in. “You’re a very persuasive man, Quinn Gallagher. It’s certainly not difficult to believe you’ve Irish blood.”

  Although it still wasn’t his favorite topic, Quinn didn’t find the topic of his heritage as threatening as usual. He did, however, decide it was time to change the subject.

  “I’m glad you like the earrings.” He reached out and touched one with a fingertip.

  “I love them. So much so that I’m not even going to complain again about the cost.”

  “Now you’re getting the idea.” He almost wished he’d also bought the emerald ones that matched her eyes. But, he suspected, there was only so much this frugal farmer’s daughter would accept as a gift. “By the way, there’s another present in the back seat.”

  She reached around and retrieved the gold-and-white shopping bag from the rear seat. “Oh, my saints!” Nora lifted the froth of black lace and silk from its bed of tissue paper. “I can’t imagine wearing such a revealing thing,” she murmured as her fingers caressed the silk.

  “Fine. I’ll just take it back, and—”

  “You’ll be doing no such thing!” She hugged the teddy to her breast. “It’s stunning, Quinn. Thank you.”

  “You’re welcome.” She was getting better at accepting gifts and compliments. Which made Quinn want to keep giving both to her. “Just don’t go getting too attached to it,” he advised. “Because believe me, you won’t be wearing it for very long.”

  Because she had no answer to a statement that was both promise and threat, Nora said nothing.

  Quinn placed his hand between them, next to hers. The contrast between his tanned flesh and her own pale skin stirred a vivid memory of how that hand had looked against her breasts. Breasts that had begun aching for his touch.

  She slipped her hand beneath his.

  He linked their fingers together.

  And, as foolish as some might find it, Nora thought she’d swoon from the pleasure of such a simple touch.

  After a while he turned onto an even narrower road, which led to a secluded glen that bordered a small lake, and cut the engine. It had begun to rain, draping the car in a slanting gray curtain.

  “How did you know about this place?” she asked.

  “Hey, scouting out a place to park with your girl is an old American tradition.”

  He’d called her his girl. Joy sang through Nora’s veins as he turned toward her. Closing her eyes, she lifted her face and waited to be swept away.

  The touch of his mouth on hers was feather-light and utterly sweet. His lips brushed hers once, twice, then a third time, tasting, teasing, tantalizing.

  “I’ve been going crazy all day,” he murmured, “remembering your taste.” He nipped the side of her neck, then soothed with the tip of his tongue where he had bitten. “Remembering how perfect you felt in my arms. How perfectly I fit inside you.”

  Her bones were turning to water. She could barely lift her hand to his cheek. “I’ve been remembering that, too,” she whispered, her fingertips trailing down the side of his face as if she was memorizing his features by touch.

  When he caught hold of her hand and pressed his open mouth to the inside of her wrist, her blood began to heat in her veins.

  He ducked his head again. This time his mouth took hers in a sumptuous heated kiss that turned everything to soft-focused slow motion. It could have lasted minutes, hours or an eternity. Time seemed suspended as Nora’s entire world narrowed down to Quinn’s thrilling lips.

  She felt drunk. Drunk with desire, dizzy with need. He’d spent the long and wondrous night teaching her the magic a man and woman could make together, and now she was going to wield it like Merlin’s sword, using its power to make him as crazy as he’d made her.

  She turned in his arms, and as her avid lips and agile hands moved over him, Quinn realized that somehow, when he hadn’t been looking, last night’s eager student had become the master. Need rose like a wild beast inside him, snarling, snapping, clawing for freedom.

  “My God, Nora…” He reached for her, but she was faster, pulling his cotton sweater over his head, somehow managing to keep just out of touch in the close confines of the car. She shrugged out of the new blazer and tossed it into the back seat.

  “Not yet.” She laughed, a deep throaty sound that could have come from one of her pagan ancestors out to seduce a king. Needing to touch, to taste, he began ripping off her clothes, even as she tore at his.

  “It’s my turn,” she murmured as her tongue teased a dark nipple, causing Quinn to groan. Her lips skimmed down his taut belly and he had to bite back the sharp curse. “You made love to me all night. Now I want to make love to you.”

  His breath clogged in his lungs, and his heart battered against his rib cage so painfully Quinn wondered if he was about to have a heart attack. When her hungry lips moved even lower and she took him into her mouth, Quinn decided that if he did die at this moment, it’d be worth it.

  “I want to be inside you.” He reached blindly for his jeans, but reading his intention, she plucked them from the floor of the car and took the foil package from the front pocket.

  “Is this what you’re looking for?” Her smile was seductive as hell, giving Quinn a very good idea of how Eve must have looked when she was holding that bright red apple just out of Adam’s reach.

  “Nora…” The warning growl reverberated from deep in his throat.

  Appearing blithely unthreatened, she tore the package open, then slowly smoothed the condom over his stone-hard erection as he’d taught her last night, protecting them both.

  Just when he thought for certain he was going to embarrass the hell out of himself by exploding beneath her erotic touch, Nora lowered herself onto him.

  The feel of her, tight and hot and slick, was all it took for the animal in him to burst free. Quinn could practically hear the chain snap as she began riding him li
ke a woman possessed.

  Last night her flesh had gleamed like pearls. Now, bathed in the faint glow of the sunset valiantly shimmering through the gray mist, her skin appeared golden, as if she were a goddess, created by a master alchemist.

  Grabbing hold of her waist, he dug his fingers into that damp glowing skin and surged upward into her. He watched her as they moved together, counting her orgasms, reveling in the range of emotions that moved across her flushed face in waves. Quinn loved the way she could feel so much. Loved that he was the one who made her feel it.

  He’d already passed last night’s personal best when she stiffened, shuddered, then collapsed against him as every inch of her body began to tremble.

  Only then did Quinn surrender fully to the beast. With one last mighty surge, he gave in to his own mind-blinding release.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Moving Hearts

  The rain had stopped, revealing a line of purple dusk stealing its way across the reed-rimmed lake. A planet burned on the horizon; the first stars appeared. Although vaguely aware of the possibility of discovery by some evening fisherman, neither Nora nor Quinn were in any hurry to move.

  As she slowly recovered, Nora touched her mouth to his chest in a soft tender kiss. “I love you.” It was barely a whisper, but Quinn had no trouble hearing it in the hushed stillness. The words reverberated around the car and inside his head like bullets, as if she’d just fired a very lethal gun.

  “Nora…” He ran his hand down her hair. “I don’t know what to say.”

  She lifted her head, her eyes warm and a little sad. For a fleeting instant he thought he detected a bit of pity in those rich green depths. “You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t tell you so you’d feel obliged to say the words back to me, Quinn. Love isn’t something you can plan. Or demand in return. It just is.”

  She lifted a hand and smoothed the lines carving canyons between his dark eyes. “It’s a gift,” she said soothingly. “Like the ones you bought for all of us in Derry. Since I couldn’t possibly afford anything so fine, I’m giving you one of the only things I have of any value.”