by Shannyn Leah
“I’m only trying to help.”
“And what did you discover? What was so important that you couldn’t give me the time I needed to sort out things on my own?” Anya didn’t want to know and she didn’t want to hear him say it, but there was no hiding from it now.
Quinn let her go. “You’ve been living on the coast for the last two years. In a small, but luxurious home.”
Anya winced and wondered if he added “luxurious” just to corroborate her selfish and spoiled Caliendo title? She’d had no choice with the in-home care Rebecca had needed.
She didn’t defend herself.
“It’s reclusive and secured...good. You don’t live there alone. Right now there is a lady staying at your house who doesn’t leave the premises but has been seen standing in the doorway of your balcony. Doors shut. Staring out and looking scared.”
So this was what type of investigative work Quinn had done for her father. It felt intrusive. Not only to Anya, but for Rebecca as well. She was just starting her life again, and Quinn had hired someone to spy on her.
“There are two employees who switch times being there, but there is always one present. Twenty-four-hour surveillance of some sort, by the looks of it.”
Anya was having a hard time acknowledging that he discovered all that in this little time. How long had it been, like two, three days?
“You have the place well confined, like you are hiding a secret. Either you pay your employees well for their silence or they are loyal to you because none of them would break.”
Anya breathed a sigh of relief. No one had told her secret. Her privacy didn’t keep tears from stinging her eyes now and suddenly, like the uncontrollable feelings that ran between them, Anya was spilling her secret to Quinn. She didn’t know why. Her chest swelled with pain and guilt and for the first time in two years she needed the truth out. Not thinking ahead−not really thinking at all−she told him everything.
“Her name is Rebecca...” She heard the breakdown in her voice. “She’s the reason I left two years ago. The night my dad told me about you he also asked me to do him a favor. He knew he’d made mistakes in the past, but his death was quick and he fell fast and hard. I can’t be certain, but I think he was trying to right some of his wrongs.”
A laugh of disbelief escaped her.
“I don’t know for certain. Who ever really knew with my dad? But for the first time in my life, I believed him.” She’d been a fool. “He wanted me to find Rebecca and bring her back to Willow Valley. He said that he was responsible for tearing her away from her family and, if I could get her here, he would reunite them. He didn’t give me a file or any more information about her, like her name, or if she was married, or had children. I don’t know anything.” Anya paused, uncertain whether she wanted to continue. Now he knew not only why she’d left, but what she’d done. She hoped he would ask her a question and piss her off so she would stop talking. He didn’t.
“I flew there and waited for her until she finished working at this little restaurant. It was a warm night and it was misting rain. I must have looked a mess by the time I talked to her. When I introduced myself she went into a panic. It was my last name, I assume, that sent her into a frenzy. She was yelling at me that she hadn’t contacted them. I didn’t know who she was talking about and I tried to calm her down, but things got out of control...”
Anya leaned over, resting her arms on her legs and held her head in her hands, waiting for the nausea to pass. She swallowed the thickness crawling up her throat and sat back up to face Quinn head on. She’d done this and there was no running from it.
“I grabbed her arm to stop her from running away from me. She tried to pull away, and I tried to convince her nothing bad was going to happen. But I was arguing a battle that I didn’t understand. I started yelling too. It all happened so fast.” Anya closed her eyes and heard the sound of screeching tires, screaming and Rebecca’s body hitting the car. She opened her eyes, begging the memory to go away. “Rebecca yanked free, slipped on a puddle of rain water and fell into oncoming traffic. I couldn’t get to her in time. She was hit, straight on.”
Quinn took her hand in his as she continued.
“It was so loud.” Her voice was no more than a whisper now. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to erase the noise. “She’s been in a coma for almost two years. When she woke up a few weeks ago, she didn’t remember anything. She has no memory of me or her life before that night. Nothing.” Anya paused, closing her eyes and letting Quinn’s hand rub comfort into her soul. Her core had been craving this touch, presumably the reason she’d opened up to him. After the truth about his mom and sister, Anya felt closer to him. He would relate to her guilt, her heartache and her need to fix this.
Anya looked at him. “That’s why I have to find her file. It contains the truth about her life and I owe her that much.”
A series of emotions crossed Quinn’s face including the one Anya didn’t want from him: pity.
Anya felt her connection with him fail. The part of her that blamed herself for Rebecca thought he would understand this was her fault. Pity was for victims and Anya undoubtedly wasn’t a victim in this circumstance and the look Quinn was giving her should be reserved for someone who deserved it. Like Rebecca.
Anya stood up and backed away from his touch.
“Don’t feel sorry for me,” she told him.
His eyes softened. “This is not your fault−”
Anya pointed at him. “That is why I didn’t come home. I don’t want people to brush this off like I wasn’t responsible. I didn’t want people to put all the blame on Robert.”
Quinn stood. “The blame should be directed at Robert. You aren’t accountable for anything that lead up to that day. No warning or preparation from Robert was unfair to you. He sent you blindly into his fight. You didn’t push Rebecca into the traffic, Anya. It was an accident.”
Everything he said was sought to alleviate her part and was exactly what she couldn’t hear. At the same time she wanted to run into Quinn’s warm embrace and forget it all...but she couldn’t−wouldn’t.
“It was her life. I almost killed her.”
He stepped toward her and she took five steps back.
“But you didn’t,” he reminded her harshly.
“Who are you to judge me? You hurt so many people looking for your secret file. Of course my actions would seem frivolous to you.”
Anya knew it wasn’t fair, but it was true.
“Don’t turn this around on me.” There was no anger in his statement and Anya knew he was prepared to ease her guilt. She wasn’t ready to allow it.
“Why? You can’t handle the truth?”
“Because we are talking about you.”
“Only because you won’t talk about yourself.”
He grew angry now. “What do you think I did tonight?” He pointed toward the front door, reminding her of their walk on the beach and the part of him he’d opened up to her. “Do you think I randomly go around and chatter my life to just anyone?” She knew he didn’t. “I don’t. Sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do for the bigger picture. And people get hurt.”
Anya didn’t need him to remind her how much his big picture hurt had hurt her...still hurt her. And what was his bigger picture?
“I know,” she gritted out.
He grew solemn, but hid his emotions from her.
Silence engulfed them.
Neither moved.
Quinn spoke first, his emotion pushing his voice out in a harsh, low tone. “You will never know how much you mean to me. To stand here and tell you that my world is at its best when you are with me is unfair to you. Is that what you want?”
“No. I want you.” Anya couldn’t believe she’d said it and meant it.
“Anya...”
“There’s that hurt you’re referring to. A file that dictates our future.”
Anya hugged herself. How had this turned from Rebecca back to them? Why were they al
ways fighting their feelings? Then it hit Anya. They weren’t always fighting and denying their feelings...Quinn was. What was in the file he so desperately needed? Did it have to do with another woman? The thought broke Anya’s heart, but there was no other explanation. His wife? His girlfriend? His fiancé? Who was in that file?
“I guess it always did,” she said, defeated by his actions, but then angry about them too. “Let’s skip whatever entertainment this is between us. Trying to be civilized friends is useless. Smiling, laughing and joking when no one is around is a waste of time.” Her voice rose until she was yelling at him. “I want you to stop your guys from digging into my past. Stop looking at me like you want to heal me or rip my clothes off, just to turn around and tell me that we have no future.”
He shouted back at her. “Damn it, Anya, I didn’t mean to fall in love with you.” Quinn’s eyes darted from her to the floor, his forehead pinched together, confused, like he’d made a huge mistake.
Anya’s mouth fell open.
He was in love with her?
When he looked up, he took a step back, putting more distance between them. He was always wedging them apart. Telling her he’d fallen in love with her was a huge mistake, especially if there was another woman involved. Anya got the sick feeling that was exactly what was going on. She wasn’t sticking around for him to admit it either.
“That explains why you can’t see straight in regards to me and my actions,” Anya said coldly.
“Love doesn’t blind me.”
She didn’t believe him. “Whatever you’re searching for has.” Anya sighed. “Just forget it Quinn.” She took a deep breath. “I need that file to fix a woman’s life. You need the file to hopefully fix yours. Let’s just stay focused on that goal. That’s all you want anyway.”
She was the instigator, endlessly bringing their past into the present and trying to scheme a future. He wanted nothing.
Anya walked away, clearing his arm’s reach. She didn’t want him to stop her and apologize for not being able to be together. She was tired of his apologies.
Chapter Fourteen
QUINN DIDN’T SLEEP worth a shit. The few times he fell asleep, he was jerked right back out by Anya’s lingering words mixed with his brother telling him to put an end to this battle. He found himself lost in a pit of doom.
This file did control his life. It had, in a way, ruined his life or any possible future with Anya. All because he had let it.
No. It was for his dad and sister. And to help all the people Robert had shattered.
He asked himself what he would tell his brother to do if the shoe were on the other foot, but Quinn couldn’t think of a good answer.
He spent most of the night lying awake on the guest bed. How could he settle down enough to sleep when the whole room smelled like her? He spent the remainder of the night wandering around Anya’s suite and checking the empty pool room. For what? He didn’t know...a distraction? He was mentally kicking his big mouth. Maybe if the boot-kicking was verbal he would feel confident enough not to have another slip up.
Why the hell had he gone and told Anya that he was in love with her only to contradict their future? It was selfish.
As the hours ticked by, and the early sun peeked up from the south, he grew angrier with himself, his dad, and with Robert.
The more Quinn tried to wrap his mind around it, the more frustrated he became. By the time Anya opened her bedroom door, he was ready to explode.
He wanted to pull her into his embrace and promise her they could be together and everything would be fine. At the same time he wanted to yell at her that nothing would be all right ever again. He did neither.
Anya had showered and her pink summer dress swayed with her hips as she walked down the hall.
Her stare was cold.
His stare was hard.
Anya spoke first. “We have breakfast with my family this morning. Do you think you can continue with this charade which you’ve cornered us? Or is that sneer going to remain on your face all through the meal?”
“Good morning to you, too.”
Anya poured herself a coffee. “A good morning would have entailed your absence.”
She glared at him again.
“Oh, but the file keeps you here,” Anya said. “The precious relationship-killing file.”
She rolled her eyes and walked to the french doors. “Be ready in ten minutes,” she called over her shoulder. “You look like a sack of shit.” The door slammed behind her.
Quinn stomped into the guest bathroom and turned on the cold water. That woman would be the death of him, not the bloody file. She aroused him and made want to strangle her at the same time. But mostly he just wanted her.
He scrubbed his body hard like he had the night before. Only this time it wasn’t to wipe away the mud, but instead the building up frustration that was going to be the end of him.
***
ANYA SNEERED AS Quinn joked with her family like he was part of them. He was a fake. A liar. A sexy little hell-demon set in her path to elude her from her own goals.
She was in love with him too. But now the possibility that there was another woman in his life presented itself and the reality stung.
Damn it. Damn him. Damn her father!
She stabbed her eggs with a fork and listened to it squeal across the plate.
“Is something bothering you?” Emma whispered.
Anya looked up suddenly, not realizing anyone had noticed her mood. “No,” was her immediate lie. She was a liar. She was a fake too.
“You’re not a good liar,” her sister said, only half teasing, nudging her side.
Anya dropped her eyes back to her meal. She better snap out of her sulky disposition before she’d become the one drawing suspicion.
Taking a deep breath, she abandoned her food and enjoyed another mouthful of coffee, attempting to concentrate on the conversation around the table. She’d missed the entire beginning of the conversation, but as she listened she caught on quickly that the discussion revolved around a cruise ship they were interested in investing in.
A cruise ship? Really?
Anya groaned inwardly. That was noticeably larger than a yacht. How Quinn would be enjoying this topic.
She stole a glance at him, but he didn’t even notice her. His glance went back and forth to each family member like he was part of the decision making. He didn’t notice her or he was ignoring her. She could ignore him just as easily. Liar. At least she could try and pretend.
Marc was explaining the logistics to Quinn and smiled at Anya when he caught her paying interest. His gaze went back and forth between the two newcomers as he spoke.
“We want to invest in the Cohen cruise line and incorporate cruises with nine to twenty-nine-day cruises where they spend part of their trip on the boat and the rest at one of our resorts along the coastline,” Marc explained. “Right now the cruises only travel on water with no stops. Onshore stops will bring a new group of customers for both the Caliendos and the Cohen enterprises.”
“Brock Cohen owns the Cohen Cruises,” Anya explained to Quinn. She knew Brock and his son Grayson from the galas her mother hosted. If she remembered correctly, Brock brought a different woman to each gala and had been divorced more than a dozen times. He liked his women young...usually models. Ryder’s playboy image had nothing on Brock Cohen’s.
“Brock’s bother, Tom, and Brock’s son, Grayson, own part of the company too,” Marc informed her.
“Yup,” Izzy scoffed. “A whole line of Cohen womanizers cruising around with a new batch of drooling single ladies they can flaunt their status in front of.”
Stifled laughs and the clearing of throats moved around the table, proving to Anya how much her family had changed in the last two years, and for the better.
In the presence of Robert they had been expected to guard what and who they discussed. It was a show designed by Robert to display the ideal life they lived...even if it had been far from perfect.
<
br /> As Anya watched them now, the unnerving edge was removed from her family’s interaction and they spoke without apprehension.
“Izzy,” Emma scolded. “You have no idea what is going on with the Cohens and it’s rude to make unsupported accusations.”
“I would think they’re supported with the many women Brock and Grayson have been seen with.”
“Assumptions,” Emma said.
“Is there a reason you say assumptions?” Izzy asked, digging for trouble. “Is there a little something going on between you and a Cohen you want to share?”
“No,” Emma said sternly.
“No there’s not something going or no you don’t want to share the something that’s going on?”
“Is there conflict between you and Grayson?” Marc inquired. Anya could see it was regarding the business deal they were discussing.
“No,” Emma answered.
“Emma, loosen up. Are you going to be a killjoy the entire trip?”
“Where are you going?” Anya asked.
Izzy whistled. “Marc booked us reservations on the cruise ship next month. That spells vay-ca-tion.”
Marc cleared his throat. “It’s work Izzy, not a vacation. I reserved you the spots so you could analyze the cruise ship, its activities, its staff, before we invest our money... And I reserved you and Emma the spots.” He shook his head. “How Abby and Melissa ended up on the cruise...”
“We will be doing exactly that...with margaritas in our hands.” Izzy waggled her eyebrows at Emma. “So much fun, right sister?”
“A sober perspective would be more useful than a drunken one,” Marc scoffed.
Carl chuckled and Eliza nudged him.
“It’s all inclusive,” Izzy said as if Marc wasn’t understanding. “Besides Emma’s opinion will be biased since she’s all hot for Brock Cohen.”
Emma choked.
People gasped, turning their attention to her, but she said nothing, concentrating on downing a glass of water.
“He’s a silver fox” Izzy said with a quick intake of breath and a lick of her lips. “And he had his eyes on Emma at the Snowflake Ball this past winter.”