by Shannyn Leah
Emma shook her head and glared at Izzy. “What are you talking about?”
“This sounds like conflict,” Marc observed looking serious.
“I assure you that I am not interested in Mr. Cohen or vice versa. Izzy is getting you all riled up over nothing.” Emma looked at her sister. “Probably just to watch you squirm. She gets pleasure out of other people’s discomfort.”
“Oh, simmer down,” Izzy said. “A sexual appetite is good.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Kate said placing her hands over Rosemary’s ears. “She is not the only set of young ears,” she hissed at Izzy, referring to Sophia and Parker who were currently at the buffet refilling their plates.
Brock was old enough to be Emma’s father, so it was good she wasn’t interested. But Mr. Cohen Sr. liked his women half his age, or younger...much, much younger.
Izzy didn’t break her eye contact. “He went back to Emma’s suite...” she said.
Kate groaned.
“Izzy!” Emma said.
“I love it at Aunt Emma’s suite,” Rosemary said. “She always has candy just for me.”
“That’s a whole other conversation,” Marc said.
“Hey sweetie, can you go get me some more fruit,” Kate said.
Rosemary left and Kate turned to the table. “And resume...” She waved her hands to encourage the continuation of a conversation that had Emma’s face flushing pink.
“This is my money too we are investing. I mean if you slept with the potential partner we should know,” Izzy said.
A musical of groans went around the table, but her family couldn’t hide their concern.
Anya stole a glance at Quinn as this disaster started to unfold. Her eyes darted around too, as if looking for the cameras that would make her family top-rated reality stars and to see who was within listening range. More likely the latter, but she smiled at the thought of watching this play out on the big screen.
The family was tucked in the back corner of the bright all-you-can-eat buffet restaurant. Short stone walls and green foliage provided the family with privacy. Besides, the guests were too busy yawning, just waking up with their coffee.
Quinn leaned back in his chair, arms crossed, and lips thin. When he looked at Anya she could see him holding in a smirk.
How embarrassing. Not only was her family on the verge of investing in cruise ships, they were also laying out their dirty laundry. Maybe her dad had the right idea: a time and a place for certain conversations. This conversation was headed to a whole new level of crazy.
“I did not sleep with Grayson’s dad, if that’s what you’re insinuating Izzy.” Emma clarified, looking insulted and enraged.
Izzy gasped. “Ohhh, did you hear that? The way she said Grayson...Did you sleep with Grayson?”
“I am not explaining something that doesn’t need explaining just so you have some juicy gossip,” Emma snapped at her younger sister.
“So there are juicy details.” Izzy licked her lips.
“Alright,” their mother intervened. “Emma, is there any reason you shouldn’t be going on the cruise?”
“No.”
Eliza flashed a gorgeous white smile. “That’s settled.” Gracefully, she easily moved onto the next topic: the secret garden gala that evening.
Quinn leaned in, resting his elbows on the table and turned his head to Anya. “A cruise line,” he whispered.
He couldn’t just let it slide? No, he had to flaunt her money in her face. Money wasn’t everything. It couldn’t buy love, in fact, it would seem like her money was chasing the one person she wanted away.
“Jealous, cowboy?”
Anya didn’t wait for his response, turning to Emma and leaning in. “Didn’t you and Grayson sort of hit it off at one of Mom’s galas before I left?” she asked.
Emma slanted a look at her. “I don’t want a thing to do with either of those Cohen men,” she said.
Anya smirked at her. “You’re not a very good liar.”
She nudged her sister’s side just as she’d done earlier and watched Emma shake her head, but the corners of her mouth went against her irritation and rose. It seemed like a lot of that was going around. Humor trumping irritation.
Anya found herself looking at Quinn. He was always trying to put humor in their bad situation. It was funny because she didn’t remember him being such a comedian all those years ago. But how much of him had she really known anyway?
Chapter Fifteen
ANYA WOULD HAVE hidden away until the next evening for supper with her mom and Carl. She could have hidden away from Quinn and away from forcing a peaceful smile when her insides were chaotic.
However, Kate and Marc had different plans. With Emma and Eliza busy with the gala tonight, they’d invited Quinn and Anya to a game of golf. How could they say no when they had nothing else to do?
It was a beautiful day to be on the course. The sun shone brightly through a cloudy sky and a tiny breeze wafted across their faces, which made standing on the course comfortable. Perfect.
“Is there an alternative Caliendo version to this game?” Quinn asked, as he stopped the golf cart at the first hole.
Anya wasn’t in the mood for small chat. “Yeah, it’s called, don’t lose your balls.” She jumped out of the cart and hoped this game would be quick.
Kate and Marc’s romance seemed to still be fresh...even after being together almost two years. They whispered, giggled, hugged and planted kisses on each other at every opportunity. It was enough to make a person vomit in their mouth.
Their love-struck mannerisms rubbed off on Quinn. On countless opportunities he wrapped his arm around Anya’s waist or shoulders or held her hand. He kissed the top of her head, the side, her cheek...he even went so far as to deposit a kiss on her lips. A kiss coaxing her lips open and gently stroking her tongue before pulling away. For that moment, she’d fallen into the charade they were playing and she kissed him back, looked into his eyes when he let her lips go and felt her heart break all over again.
A kiss for the sake of a file.
Each fake display of affection made her annoyance and gloominess grow, slowly consuming her when they arrived at the last hole on the green.
“You need to relax your body,” Kate yelled at Anya when she stepped up to the line.
The end of this game couldn’t come soon enough and Anya was ready to escape every ones eagle eyes for an hour of alone time in her suite...without Quinn.
Anya forced a fake laugh over her shoulder. “I never was much of a golfer,” she said. “But that next round of mud shoes I’ll kick you all to the mud pool,” she joked and turned back to the course.
Just hit the damn ball on the green. Not another embarrassing bush landing, please.
Kate laughed.
Anya lined up her ball.
“You know, Quinn is kind of a pro at this,” Kate continued. “Quinn, go show her how to swing and relax her body.”
No thanks. He’s been all-hands enough already.
“Seriously Anya shake it out a bit,” Kate continued the light-hearted tease.
Anya was going to throw the golf club in her sister-in-law’s direction if she didn’t shut up.
Away from the bush...away from the bush.
Anya felt Quinn touch her hand as she raised the club to make her shot. Her body froze. Her hands stopped in mid-air and heat scorched her blood from his touch.
“Let’s shake it out,” he suggested, taking the golf club out of her clenching fingers.
Anya sent him a look of death. She wanted her club back and his hands kept to himself for the remainder of their time together.
Quinn gave his body a shake and his muscles flexed against his polo shirt, temporarily distracting her anger. It looked ridiculous. He looked ridiculous...in that sort of sexy, hot, adorable, charming, and ridiculous way. All things which were merely a show for everyone. Quinn might have been sexy and hot, but he was also overbearing, controlling, bossy and emotionally unattached.
“Shake,” he instructed.
Kate laughed, enjoying the show. “Come on Anya, shake.”
“You don’t want to lose your ball again,” Quinn joked, giving her rear a slap.
Anya cringed and hoped he hadn’t left a hand print on her white skirt. He was lucky he took her club away because, if he hadn’t, she would hit so hard he never would mention balls again.
Anya forced a smile and did a little shake in Kate’s direction. “Alright, give me my club back,” she said to Quinn.
So I can hit you over the head with it.
Quinn walked behind Anya and she felt his body press against her back. “Relax your shoulders.” His whisper fogged her mind.
His hands moved delicately from the sleeve of her golf tee, across the top of her shoulders leisurely moving his fingers over the bare skin of her neck.
Her shoulders tensed.
“Relax your arms.” His hands slid down the goose-bumps on her bare arms, working their way to her hands, guiding her fingers around the golf club. This was a classic “I’m trying to pick you up, touch you, cop-a-feel” move and Anya felt herself lost in the moment.
She swallowed hard, licked her lips and inhaled the warm smell of him.
It’s a facade for Kate and Marc...nothing more.
The anger rushed back.
If Quinn wanted to play sweet little love-birds, then she would play sweet little lovebirds. Only she wasn’t feeling as passive aggressive as him.
“Like this,” she asked fashioning a sugary innocent voice as she notably pressed her seductive rear against his groin.
He groaned in her ear.
Yes, that was the way.
Marc choked.
Kate let out another classic, “Whoa.”
Anya turned her head to look at Quinn. “You like that?” She gave another grind hoping her skirt wasn’t hiking up, giving everyone else a show.
Quinn’s eyes flickered with desire. It was there, the attraction between them and he couldn’t deny it...yet he did.
“Babe, that is only part of what you are missing.” Anya planted her lips on Quinn’s, prying his mouth open with her tongue and swiping inside his mouth. He tasted delicious, like a morning sunrise, but he wasn’t hers to enjoy.
Quinn’s hands dropped from around hers and when she felt them touch her hips she took the opportunity to pull away from his lips and hit the ball into the nearest bush...purposely.
“Oh darn it,” she pouted resuming her show. “I will go get that.”
Anya dropped the golf club on the ground, aiming at Quinn’s feet. Fuming, she picked up her pace and stalked to the bush.
That little jerk. Shake this and relax that.
Anya needed to get some composure before she strangled Quinn in front of everyone.
The last hole. They were on the last hole and she could have retreated respectfully and inconspicuously to her suite for a break. But no, Quinn had to make it all about a show.
“Anya!”
She heard the golf cart stop at the edge of the bush. She ignored Quinn’s call, her feet snapping fallen branches as she moved further into the bush to locate the stray ball.
Hopefully Marc and Kate had moved on and the game would be over by the time she retrieved the stupid orb.
“We have spare ones,” Quinn called to her.
She waved a hand at him, checking the brown and green ground for a white small contrast.
“You’re in the wrong bush,” he shouted.
Anya stopped and sighed.
Darn it!
She stomped out of the bush and found Quinn grinning and waiting for her in the golf cart. She walked toward the next bush.
Quinn drove beside her. “Anya, get in the cart.”
“No thanks, Stud Muffin.”
He chuckled.
She stopped and turned to him. “It’s not funny,” she snapped.
He sobered. “I’m sorry. I was just trying to play the part.”
She was fully aware the scheme he was playing meant nothing to him. That was why it hurt so much.
“Make the best out of a bad situation.” So, he thought their situation was bad? “Kate and Marc are at the green. Get in and we will meet them.”
She wasn’t taking orders from him. “I want my ball.”
Quinn sighed. “Alright. Get in and we will go get your ball.”
Why couldn’t he just go away? Tick, tick, tick!
Anya climbed in, deciding the quicker they snatched the ball, the closer a break from each other would occur.
She needed a drink. Yes, even though it was early morning, the minute they were at the clubhouse she was heading to the bar for a shot of hard liquor.
Quinn drove toward the bush where her ball had landed.
“Women don’t like it when you thrust yourself against them in public,” she snarled at him.
“You, my darlin’, were doing the thrusting.” His darlin’ drawl made her mouth water.
“Women don’t like this either.” She poked his shoulder and the hard muscle contracted beneath her. “How many hours a day do you have to work out to get this muscle? And the image you are portraying makes it hard for a woman to even approach you.”
He caught her hand. “I have no problem with women approaching me.”
She grunted, yanking her hand back.
“Men don’t like this.” He poked her shoulder. “All sticks and bones. Puts some meat on you and give us something to grab.”
Anya slapped his hand away. “Oh you’ve had plenty to grab.”
“The more the better.” He caught her hand again and kissed her palm.
“You know what? Just take us to the green.”
“With pleasure,” he said.
Anya took her hand back and grabbed his leg. “I can’t even get a grip there’s so much muscle. It’s abnormal.”
He laughed. “You’re just making up an excuse to touch me.”
Anya gasped. “I am not. And you’re going too fast. Slow down.”
“Chill out, Princess.”
“Do not call me princess. And you are one to talk, all I have to do is lick my lips and you can’t keep your hands off me.”
He grinned at her. “Licking your lips is a sign of you begging me to take you.”
“I can hardly stand you.”
“You’re begging for it right now.”
A hysterical laugh escaped her. “What world do you live in? You’re going the wrong way.”
“I know where I am going.”
Forgetting she told him to go to the green, Anya yanked on the wheel of the golf cart as he began to pass the bush.
“That would be the first time. Your direction lacks when it comes to the bedroom.”
Quinn tried to pull her hands off the wheel. “I have no problem with direction, or anything else for that matter, when it comes to the bedroom.”
He was so vain it was ludicrous.
Anya pulled the wheel harder and made a sharp turn toward the bush. “I guess your hard body makes up for what you lack down below.”
An uproarious bit of laughter came from Quinn. “Woman, there is nothing wrong with my manhood. Just get your hands off my wheel.”
“Won’t be hard, barely anything to grasp!”
They fought some more as they headed toward the bush. Bantering back and forth neither paid attention to how close they were getting until the tires dropped over the grass edge with a thump.
Anya and Quinn bounced in their seats. The tires rumbled along the dirt and the exposed roots bouncing them aggressively bouncing the cart. Quinn tried to steer, pressing the brakes, but it was too late.
Anya caught sight of the obstacle they were heading directly for and cringed, yelling, “Quinn, look out for the tree!”
Chapter Sixteen
THE FRONT OF the golf cart smashed into the trunk of a mammoth old maple tree sending Quinn’s body forward, crashing into the steering wheel. He groaned as he hit, but his eyes were locked on
Anya and her body propelling forward.
Quinn wasn’t sure how he managed to snap his arm out in front of her to keep her from flying out of the golf cart, but he did so in record time. It didn’t stop her head from hitting the frame of the golf cart.
Shit!
Panic overtook him as he watched the woman he loved dropped back in the seat and cover her forehead with her hands. Her legs curled up in front of her, pressing them against her stomach and her chest stopped moving as she held her breath.
Damn it.
“Anya?” There was no disguising the fear in his voice. What had they done?
He turned in his seat and moved to her side. “Shit, Anya. Let me see.”
He grasped her hands, but she pulled away shaking her head, and then squinted at the pain.
Quinn rubbed Anya’s arms. “Sweetheart, let me see,” he said softly, moving his hands up her warm skin until they were at her hands again.
She didn’t pull away this time, but she did keep her forehead covered when she looked up at him. Tears stained her face.
“Is there another woman?” she asked.
Another woman? What was she talking about? How hard had she hit her head?
“A woman you love? Is that why you can’t be with me?”
Quinn took a deep breath. She was talking about the file. “No. There is no other woman. It’s always been you.”
How could she not know that?
“It’s my sister’s file that I am after,” he told her. “Robert has a file on my sister and I want to see it.” The truth alleviated what kept him from her. The second the words came out, although his concern was solely on her head, somewhere in the back of his head told him not to let this woman go again.
“Can I look at your head? Please?”
Anya dropped her hands. Quinn pushed the hair from her forehead and found a growing lump.
“How do you feel?” he asked.
“Like I hit my head.”
“Lightheaded? Sick?” He was cupping her face now and searching her eyes to make sure she wasn’t dizzy or blacking out. Her stable eyes assured him she wasn’t.
“No and no.”
“Are you okay?” Quinn had only once ever been this scared and that was the night he had lost his dad.