‘You love me?’
The tone of his voice chilled her to the bone. ‘Yes, I do.’
‘Then your idea of love and mine are poles apart. To me, love means trust—sharing.’
‘I love you and our baby.’
‘Words come easily to you, Magenta.’
She exhaled in a rush, shock hitting her in the chest like a punch.
‘Let me replay this for you,’ Quinn said in a chillingly calm voice. ‘You come into my office and announce that you’re pregnant—then you barely draw breath before telling me that you don’t want anything from me. How convinced would you be of my integrity if the tables were turned, Magenta? What gives you the right to make the rules?’
She didn’t want to fight, but she was in no position to make promises of any kind when she inhabited a parallel universe. And, even supposing she could revisit this world in her dreams, would a hook-up on some cosmic interchange ever be enough for them? It was hardly a sound foundation for a family.
‘Good to see you’re ready with your answer,’ Quinn snarled.
She blocked his path to the door. ‘Please don’t walk out on me, Quinn.’
‘Don’t lie to me.’
‘I have never lied to you.’
‘Then open up, Magenta!’ Quinn roared this as he seized her arms. For a moment she thought he was going to shake her, but instead he loosened his grip and whipped his hands away, murmuring furiously, ‘What’s happening to me?’
You too? she felt like saying. But if Quinn was also a visitor to this strange dimension it really would be too much to take in.
Exhaling heavily, Quinn turned away, and he remained aloof from her for a long while. When he finally turned back to face her, he was calm again. ‘Forgive me,’ he said levelly.
‘There’s nothing to forgive.’
‘Shock, surprise—the force of my feelings. Whatever the excuse, I shouldn’t have lost it like that.’
‘We’re both on a steep learning-curve here.’
‘And I like to think I have all things covered.’
‘But not babies?’ Magenta suggested softly.
‘Not babies,’ Quinn agreed, giving her an assessing stare. ‘Are you going to be all right?’
‘Of course I am. I’m going to be a mother.’ She couldn’t keep the joy out of her voice. Just saying the words made her feel privileged, happy—ecstatic. The difficulties could be overcome, would be overcome.
Sensing her inner strength and determination, Quinn shrugged. ‘Looks like you’ve got it all in hand.’
Magenta smiled. ‘There still room for a father in the picture—if he wants to be included, that is. I can understand this has come as a shock to you.’
‘To put it mildly,’ Quinn agreed.
‘And I’m sorry if you think I’ve been keeping things from you.’
‘Aren’t women supposed to be enigmas?’
‘Like the sphynx?’
‘Like Magenta Steele,’ Quinn said, eyeing her keenly. ‘You’re definitely a one-off.’ He shook his head. ‘No one could deny that.’
She smiled at him a little hesitantly. With the bounce of joy when they talked about their baby came the dread of separation. And now Quinn had just made that worse by caring so much.
‘Whatever you want to do, I’ll be here for you, Magenta.’
Quinn couldn’t know how poignant a statement that was. And I’ll always love you, Magenta thought, staring deep into his eyes. If she could only bind this moment and keep it just the way it was for ever.
‘You’re sure you want this baby?’
‘Absolutely sure,’ she confirmed.
‘Good.’ Quinn stared at her for a moment, and then he drew her close. ‘Now all you have to do is tell me what you’re hiding from me, Magenta.’
He knew her too well. She might have known he would ask, and what could she tell him? If she told Quinn the truth he’d think her mad—and, worse, he’d think her incapable of looking after their child. ‘Can’t we just have now?’
‘Now?’ Quinn pulled back to stare at her with eyes that were shadowed with as many secrets as her own. ‘What is “now”, Magenta? This breath? This day? This dream we call life?’
She could feel him pulling away from her, feel the distance growing between them as surely as if Quinn had removed his hands from her back and his breath from her face. She wished she could find the words to heal the broken bond between them, but there were no words. Now Quinn was walking away from her, closing himself off in every way there was.
But then he stopped and turned. ‘We have to make this work,’ he said. ‘I’m not sure how we’re going to do that yet, but I’ll find a way.’
The breath caught in her throat. She knew she should be happy, and she would have been if she hadn’t known theirs was a problem Quinn couldn’t seize hold of and fix.
‘Don’t look at me like that,’ he said, sensing her concern. ‘This won’t come together unless you believe in me.’
Quinn was a warrior who refused to accept defeat, and for one crazy moment it occurred to Magenta that he might be wrestling the same mysterious forces that she was. That was too much for her bruised and battered brain to take in. But he did seem to be staring past her to some place she couldn’t see, and she let out a relieved breath when his storm-dark eyes focused on her face again. ‘You don’t have to be part of this, Quinn.’
‘I’m determined to be.’ A faint smile touched the corner of his mouth. ‘Who’d have thought?’
Yes, who’d have thought? But she could no more plan for a future with Quinn than she could wake up. And how long could she keep up this deception? Could she lie to the father of her child? ‘Quinn, there’s something I must tell you.’
‘Not now, Magenta. I know you’re worried about the future and I can understand why. I know you want me to tell you where this will lead, but truthfully I don’t know.’
How could he know when she was nothing more than a sham, an illusion, a figment of her own imagination? ‘This isn’t what you think.’
‘You’re pregnant with my baby. How different can it be?’
You have no idea, Magenta thought.
‘Unless it’s not my baby?’
Quinn’s stare frightened her. ‘Don’t say that.’ She couldn’t bear to see the doubt in his eyes.
‘Is this my baby? It’s a simple question. Is the child you’re carrying mine, Magenta?’
The air between them was suddenly charged with fury and passion, but she stared into Quinn’s gaze without flinching. ‘Yes, I’m carrying your baby. And realising that was a shock to me to begin with,’ Magenta admitted. ‘But now I can only think of my pregnancy as an unexpected blessing.’
Quinn stared at her in silence and then he said, ‘You are the mother of my child, and as such I will always protect you.’
‘I can look after myself, Quinn.’
‘You won’t have to. You’re not alone.’
For that she was grateful. Becoming a single mother in a world she understood was one thing, but here?
‘You should be smiling, Magenta.’ Quinn said, sensing her doubt. ‘This is a happy day, isn’t it?’
‘Of course.’ And now she felt guilty. She didn’t deserve this man, and she certainly didn’t deserve the gift of a child. ‘Quinn…’ She didn’t know where to start, but she had to tell him. She had never imagined Quinn would be so deeply loyal or so complex. She had underestimated him in so many ways, but he was right to say today was precious. She wanted nothing more than what she had here and now. Surely it was a small thing in the scale of the cosmos to be with the man she loved so they could bring up their baby together? To make a home for it surrounded by love? Knowing that it was an impossible dream was killing her.
‘Why so serious?’ Quinn demanded.
The last thing she wanted was to add to his suspicions by allowing a moment to pass, and then another, when she could have told him—when she should have told him. It was getting to the stage where she
wished for his sake that she could just close her eyes and wake up in a world she could make sense of.
Misreading the signs, Quinn embraced her, and the moment when she might have told him passed. This was what she wanted more than anything—to be with Quinn—and it was the one thing she couldn’t have.
She clung to him in desperation and when he released her she saw a different expression in his eyes. It was an expression she knew, an expression her body responded to immediately.
Quinn’s lips curved. He was an unrepentant hunter; he was hungry and so he ate. ‘You’re the mother of my child.’ He stared her in the eyes. ‘And you just reminded me why…’
‘Quinn…’ She was already responding.
Quinn was aroused, hugely aroused. This was a private joke between them—that she barely had to look at him to provoke this response. She had to be careful about looking at him in public, Quinn had warned her with amusement when they’d been dancing in a club. ‘Have you no shame?’ she asked him now, already working on his clothes.
‘None at all.’
‘Just as I thought.’ The ache inside her had spread like a delicious heat to encompass all her body, but Quinn shushed her and steadied her hands.
‘Gently,’ he said. ‘I’m going to be gentle with you.’
‘Because I’m pregnant?’ Magenta demanded. ‘Pregnant women love sex.’
‘I’ll bear that in mind.’
Now they were both yanking clothes off and tossing them aside. But even now there was a shadow. Carpe diem: seize the moment. Who knew how many they had left?
Quinn steered her back against the wall, lifting her and tugging off her underwear at the same time. She was as bad, breaking her nails on his belt in her hurry to undress him.
Locking her legs around his waist, she angled her body to make it easy for him. There was no foreplay this time, no finesse or teasing, no wasting a single precious moment.
Quinn’s first thrust was enough to make her lose control, but he had taught her well, and she knew the power of delay. She held on as long as she could as he pounded her against the wall, but even as she hovered on the exquisite plateau of sensation she knew she couldn’t stay there for ever. She must fall. It wasn’t just the strength of the approaching climax she feared, but the feeling—the sense, the premonition—that when she fell this time it would be for good. The thought of being thrown back into a world without Quinn, without their baby, was a prospect she dreaded beyond all things. ‘No, Quinn, stop,’ she begged him, pressing her clenched fists against his chest.
‘Am I hurting you?’
‘No.’
‘What, then?’
He was already moving, steadily, deeply and slowly as he stretched her, massaging her in a way she couldn’t resist. ‘Quinn, I can’t. It’s too big, too wild—too dangerous.’ But as she punctuated each of these declarations with a groan of pleasure, Quinn took no notice. ‘I’m locked in a dream and I don’t want to lose you,’ she managed to gasp out in one fleeting moment of lucidity.
‘If you’re locked in a dream,’ Quinn said fiercely, ‘then I am too.’
‘No,’ she begged shaking her head from side to side. ‘We can’t do this together.’
‘Haven’t I always promised to keep you safe?’ Instead of slowing, Quinn adjusted his grip on her buttocks so he could take her more deeply.
The last thing she heard before she screamed out his name was Quinn’s husky laugh against her neck, and then there was a fire-burst of light behind her eyes and her world was all sensation.
As the violent pleasure washed over her, she clung to Quinn as if her life depended on it. But the firmer her grasp the more illusive her hold on him became. Their reality was fading, Magenta realised in despair, and there was no way to call it back. The moment she had dreaded was here—was now. She was leaving Quinn, floating away from him, floating out of his reach…
‘Quinn, save me!’
But even as she cried his name she knew he couldn’t hear her.
She made one last desperate attempt to reach him, but the more she strained to stay where she was the more the yawning chasm between them grew. The last thing she saw was Quinn stretching out his hands as if he had the power to defeat time, space and dimension and could snatch her back again. But it was too late. She was already being sucked into the void from where there was no return, and as she tumbled helplessly from one world to the next she was dimly aware of Quinn calling out to her. But then even his voice lost its power to hold her and she slipped away.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
‘DAMN the woman!’ Gray Quinn’s face was thunderous as he hammered on Magenta’s office door with his fist. ‘Magenta! Answer me! Magenta, are you in there? Are you all right?’
The silence was deafening. Straightening up, he braced his shoulder.
Within micro-seconds of him preparing to take action, the door opened and a wan face peered out.
‘What the hell are you playing at?’ he said, pushing past her. ‘Have you been here all night?’ He heard the door close behind him and wheeled around. ‘You look awful. We’ve all been worried to death about you—me in particular.’
‘Why you in particular?’
Her voice was like a feeble reed, which only added to his suspicions. ‘We had a meeting at nine o’ clock sharp. Remember that?’
Raking her hair, she looked at him in bemusement. ‘Oh, I’m sorry,’ she said as reality dawned.
‘You don’t show for the meeting,’ he rapped out. ‘And then I hear you’re locked in here.’
‘But Tess keeps a spare key.’
‘Tess had a dental appointment this morning. So why the locked door, Magenta?’
‘I felt safer.’
‘Safer?’
She didn’t answer. Rather than acting like the sharp executive, with the smart line in repartee to match the sassy copy she wrote for her ad campaigns, Magenta was staring at him as if he was an apparition—as if she didn’t know what day it was. Even odder to him was her bemused acceptance—he’d expected the woman he’d met and flirted with yesterday to be furious to learn the biker she’d dismissed, and possibly even flirted back with the day before, and her new boss had turned out to be one and the same. He gave the office a thorough scan. ‘Have you been drinking?’
‘I have not!’ she exclaimed indignantly. ‘I’ve been working.’
‘Commendable.’ There were no bottles, but he saw the work laid out on the desk. She had been working and now she looked ready to pass out. ‘Lucky for you I have the bike here.’
‘The bike…’
Her eyes slowly cleared, but she was still looking at him as if she didn’t know what century it was, let alone what day. ‘I’ll take you home,’ he explained in clear terms. ‘You can shower, eat, dress and get back here with your brain in gear. Okay with you?’
‘Do I have an option?’ Colour was coming back into her cheeks.
‘No. Just grab your coat.’
‘I can’t ride a bike dressed like this.’ She stared down at her crumpled dress.
‘Are your workout clothes still in the gym?’
‘In the basement? Yes.’
‘Then change into gym clothes. I’ll wait.’
She started to say something, but he was already out of the door. Magenta might be a first-class creative, but if she proved to be unreliable there was no place for her in his organisation. There was just something nagging at the back of his mind that said he shouldn’t let her go yet.
And if he did, Quinn reflected dryly, it would be the first time he had fired someone for working too hard.
He liked the feeling of Magenta clinging on tight with her head pressed hard against his back, but as they rode through London he could sense her tension. He was in a hurry to see her restored to her fighting best; he had no intention of buying a company and losing its chief asset in the same day, he told himself firmly as he took a short cut through the market district. It wasn’t usual for him to take quite such a persona
l interest in his staff, but Magenta had touched something inside him. The fact that she had worked until she’d quite literally dropped played on his mind. Seeing one of the all-night open-air booths was still serving, he stopped the bike. ‘Hot dog—ketchup, mustard?’
‘What?’ She stared at him with that same bemused expression in her eyes.
‘When did you last eat? Never mind,’ he said, swinging his leg over the bike. ‘Stay here, or come with. Either way, I’m getting you something hot to put inside your stomach.’
She ate like a ravenous child, dripping ketchup down her fingers. She stared at the mess and frowned—it took her back to childhood, maybe. He grabbed a hank of paper tissues and wiped her hands. ‘Better?’ Dipping his head, he stared into troubled eyes.
She had enough smarts to refocus fast. ‘I haven’t made the best of starts, have I?’ she suggested wryly.
‘Drink your tea.’
She did so, blowing on it with attractive full, red lips before gulping it down with relish. ‘Sorry. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was.’
His lips curved. When he was heavily into a project, eating was the last thing on his mind. ‘Work will do that to you.’
‘So you’re the same?’ she guessed.
Her eyes were a clear, deep blue and she was staring at him keenly. ‘I’m a little obsessive,’ he admitted. ‘Come on—let’s get you home.’
He got another jolt when he walked into Magenta’s house to find it furnished like a sixties stage-set. ‘Nice place you have here…’ He recognised an Eero Aarnio Bubble Chair, and an iconic Egg Pod swinging seat with a blood-red lining. Did she always live like this, in a fantasy world that mirrored each new campaign she was working on? He hoped not. He’d seen the notes on his desk regarding Magenta’s next big campaign. It featured a safari theme. There was hardly room to swing a small cat in here, let alone a big one.
His mood changed, darkened. Was business Magenta’s life? Was that all there was? A sense of isolation overwhelmed him—a sense of déjà vu. He had thought of little else apart from work on his drive to the top. They weren’t so different.
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