She held up her hands defensively. ‘Before you ask, nothing happened,’ she drawled drily. ‘Your guest kissed me, for a moment I kissed him back, and then I decided it wasn’t what I wanted after all. End of incident,’ she added firmly, sitting down in the chair opposite his.
‘Are you talking about last night?’ he queried lightly. ‘Or is this some other time I didn’t know about?’
‘Very funny,’ she sighed. ‘There wouldn’t even have been that time if he hadn’t taken me by surprise.’
‘Caught you off balance, did he?’ her grandfather mocked.
‘Yes!’ She glared at him, her eyes gleaming deeply green.
‘Then perhaps he ought to make a habit of it,’ her grandfather derided. ‘For a few moments you caught fire in his arms!’
Elizabeth stood up restlessly. ‘You’re a wicked old man,’ she accused heatedly.
He smiled, unperturbed. ‘I know what I saw, Elizabeth.’
‘Well, you won’t see it again,’ she snapped determinedly.
‘No?’
She drew in an angry breath. ‘Grandfather, don’t—don’t match-make between Quinn Taylor and me,’ she said heavily. ‘It’s a waste of time, and I—it’s embarrassing,’ she compromised.
‘You didn’t kiss him as if you hated him, darling,’ he pointed out gently.
‘So he knows how to kiss like an expert,’ she dismissed impatiently. ‘He should do, he’s had plenty of practice at it!’
‘Darling, I think you’re maligning the man—’
‘And I think we should just drop this discussion,’ she bit out tautly as she heard Marni’s descent down the stairs, turning to smile at the young girl as she hesitantly joined them. ‘Just in time for tea,’ she greeted Marni warmly, the conversation between her grandfather and herself definitely over.
She had just finished pouring the tea when she heard Petersham open the door to admit Quinn Taylor and Bruce Simons. Her hands shook slightly as she passed her grandfather his cup of tea, knowing by his probing look that he hadn’t missed the way she had spilt some of the hot liquid into his saucer.
She had dreaded this moment of having to face Quinn again since realising that she was still as much in love with him as she had been six years ago.
She kept her face averted as her grandfather greeted the two men and Marni jumped up to hug her father, remaining close to him with her arm about his waist as she greeted Bruce Simons, obviously treating the other man much like an uncle.
Elizabeth knew she couldn’t ignore the two men indefinitely, and guarded herself against showing any emotion as she turned to them with a politely fixed smile. Quinn had obviously been working very hard at his final rehearsal: his hair clung damply to his forehead, the open-necked shirt he wore sticking moistly to his chest and back. He looked flushed and triumphant, although he frowned slightly as he met her coolly dismissive gaze.
He oozed sexual vitality with that sheen of perspiration still clinging to his brow, moisture gleaming on the dark hair visible above his open shirt.
She averted her gaze. ‘Tea, gentlemen?’ she offered stiltedly.
Bruce Simons’s expression at the offer would have been funny if it hadn’t been for the fact she knew she would embarrass him terribly if she showed by so much as a twitch of her lips that his dismay at being offered tea was very amusing. He looked as if she had made a mistake about his age and offered him milk and biscuits!
‘Or perhaps you would prefer coffee?’ she added with innocent query.
‘Not for me, thanks,’ Quinn refused softly. ‘I have to go and shower and change before I do anything else.’ He gave his manager an amused glance. ‘But I’m sure Bruce would love some coffee and cakes,’ he drawled.
The shorter man gave him a scowl. ‘Yeah, I—I’d love some,’ he accepted without enthusiasm.
Elizabeth rang for the maid to bring the coffee, having to repeat her request twice as poor Mary gazed at Quinn with dreamy eyes.
‘Perhaps you would like something brought up to you in your room?’ she suggested to Quinn once the maid had left to get the coffee.
‘I’m sure Mary would be only too pleased to bring it to you,’ her grandfather added drily.
She gave him a reproving glance; the poor girl couldn’t help her infatuation for Quinn. Unlike her, who knew exactly what sort of man he was, and still loved him in spite of that!
He had been watching her constantly since he came into the house, unnerving her with that deep-blue gaze that seemed to be able to read the secrets of her soul. Why did he keep hounding her like this; what did he want from her! Whatever it was she couldn’t give it to him.
‘I think I’ll pass.’ Quinn drily refused her grandfather’s suggestion. ‘Elizabeth…?’
She eyed him coldly. ‘Yes, Mr Taylor?’
Anger flared briefly in those dazzling blue eyes at her insistence of formality between them. ‘I’d like to talk to you before the concert tonight,’ he told her softly.
This time she managed to clasp her hands together to stop them trembling. ‘I can promise you that I didn’t let Marni spend all your money,’ she teased the smiling girl at his side, knowing while she looked at Marni that she didn’t have to look at Quinn. ‘We even left a few things in the shops for other people!’
Marni’s grin widened. ‘You should see the red dress I persuaded Elizabeth to buy for herself,’ she enthused. ‘It—’
‘I thought your father wasn’t interested in the buying of clothes?’ she cut in sharply, not wanting the revealing style of the gown she had impulsively been talked into buying discussed with Quinn.
The other girl laughed softly. ‘Any man with red blood in his veins would be interested in that dress!’
Dark brows rose over mockingly questioning eyes as Quinn looked at her curiously. ‘Tell me more,’ he murmured encouragingly to his daughter.
‘Well, it’s—’
‘Thank you, Mary,’ Elizabeth cut in firmly as the maid brought in the pot of coffee. ‘Gentlemen,’ she indicated they should take their seats while she poured them a drink.
‘I think Elizabeth is keeping the dress as a surprise for dinner tonight,’ Marni confided innocently.
Quinn’s gaze slowly roamed over Elizabeth. ‘I’ll look forward to it,’ he drawled softly.
That did make her sit up and look at him in return. ‘But I thought you weren’t eating with us tonight,’ she reminded him a little desperately.
I’ve moved dinner to six-thirty so that he can,’ her grandfather put in cheerfully.
Her smile was weak to say the least. ‘How lovely,’ she muttered without enthusiasm, knowing by Quinn’s self-satisfied grin that he knew exactly how she felt about spending more time than was necessary in his company. And she had believed, because of the time of the concert tonight, that dinner was one time she was to be spared the ordeal. Fate—and her grandfather—were not on her side!
She did her best to act the part of the gracious hostess once Quinn had gone up to his room to shower, but it wasn’t easy when she knew her grandfather was watching her so closely. Maybe she should just tell him about Fergus and get him to stop all this, although no doubt he wouldn’t be too pleased at the deception she had been carrying off the last few days.
She was still puzzling over her predicament later that evening as she dressed for dinner. In the red dress. To do anything else, just because she knew Quinn was going to be joining them after all, would be too obvious.
In the shop the dress had looked daring enough, but here in the privacy of her bedroom it looked like a dress that was begging someone—preferably some sexily virile man!—to take it off and feast on the beauty beneath!
Strapless, the dress was no more than a tube of material that clung to the slender curves of her body, seeming to remain in place over her breasts by pure magic alone. Her shoulders were bare, and the silky bell of her hair brushed sensually against her flesh, causing a tingle of awareness down her spine.
Giles, alth
ough he would love the dress and think, after the other evening, that she had bought it especially for him, wouldn’t want her to be seen in public in such a gown. Very conservative in his outlook, he wouldn’t appreciate the amount of flesh that remained bare for other men to ogle at. Now that she had seen the full effect herself she wasn’t so sure she liked it either!
Maybe she could make some excuse for not wearing it, lie and claim that some of the stitching had come undone. Quinn would know it for a lie, but at this moment she wasn’t sure she particularly cared what he thought, she was too vulnerable in the revealing gown. She—
She glanced frowningly across the room and then back at her reflection as a knock sounded on the door. It was probably just Marni, but she knew that once the other girl had seen her in the dress she wouldn’t be able to change after all.
The knock sounded again, and she still debated about what to do. It would be rude of her not to answer the door, but if she did so Marni would see that she was obviously ready for dinner and expect her to go downstairs like this. It wasn’t—
Her eyes opened wide as her bedroom door was gently opened and Quinn stood there looking at her with suddenly darkened eyes.
‘I thought as you didn’t answer that maybe you were still in the shower, or—or had already gone down to dinner,’ he told her throatily as he stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. ‘I see now why you delayed.’
Elizabeth’s heart was beating so loudly she felt sure he must be able to hear it in the sudden stillness of the room. What was he doing here? He couldn’t just walk into her room like this!
He was really too devastatingly attractive in the dark evening suit and white shirt, he seemed to make her bedroom look smaller, bringing the two of them closer together, something that made her very aware of the lack of material to her gown.
She swallowed hard. ‘You do?’ Her voice was husky in the silence.
He nodded his head. ‘You can’t go downstairs in that dress.’
She straightened. ‘I can’t?’
‘No…’ He shook his head again. ‘Not unless you want me to shock everyone as I try to make love to you at the dinner table!’
She gave an irritated sigh. ‘That routine might work with some women, Mr Taylor, but I—’
‘It isn’t a routine, Elizabeth,’ he admitted shakily. ‘I wish it were,’ he added ruefully. ‘I haven’t shaken like this just looking at a woman since I was in college!’
‘You aren’t—’ she broke off as he held up hands that obviously trembled. ‘You’re nervous because of the concert,’ she dismissed. ‘Marni told me you always—’
‘Marni is right,’ he bit out. ‘But I don’t shake when I’m nervous, I lapse into morose silence.’
She swallowed again. ‘What do you want in here, Mr Taylor?’ Her sharp tone brooked no smart answers.
He let out a shaky sigh, unable to take his eyes off her. ‘When I came in I wanted to talk to you, to try to solve the awkwardness there seems to be between us. Now…’ he shrugged slowly. ‘Now I just want to take that dress off you and make love to you!’
The heat that suddenly engulfed her body was a natural reaction to such a statement, she told herself defensively. Quinn had to know what he was doing, was no doubt as much an expert at verbal lovemaking as he was at the physical kind!
‘I think you had better go,’ she told him tightly.
‘Yes.’ He made no effort to leave the room.
‘Now,’ she bit out abruptly.
‘Yes,’ he said again, his chest moving shallowly up and down as he breathed raggedly.
‘Quinn!’ she prompted harshly.
The sexual tension suddenly became even stronger between them, a fire in Quinn’s eyes as he moved across the room towards her. And she knew it was because, for the first time, she had called him by his first name.
‘I’ve been longing for this since last night,’ he murmured as he bent his head and claimed her mouth in a kiss that turned her body to molten silk.
She seemed to have been longing for it too, waiting, needing…!
There was no tenderness, no gentleness, just fierce passion that heated both of them, lips taking, devouring. Quinn’s arms were like steel about her, his hands roaming restlessly up and down her body.
He didn’t love her, she didn’t love him in the way that she should love a man who could make her feel this way, and yet at this moment it didn’t seem to matter, nothing mattered but the moment. And the hunger…
Mouths wide with desire, tongues duelling, hands searching, bodies seeking, finding momentary respite as Quinn pulled their thighs together, moving against her in slow erotic movements, the fire there becoming a burning ache throughout her whole body…
She was burning in the hot sensuality, Quinn taking her mouth again and again, lips moist as they moved together hungrily. She arched her neck as those lips moved hotly down her throat to her bare shoulders, clinging to him to maintain her balance, gasping as one of his hands cupped beneath her breast, flicking the already hardened tip with his thumb-pad.
She fitted into the warm strength of his hand perfectly, as she had always known she would, his lips against the gentle swell of her breast above the red dress, sending tiny pin-pricks of pleasure up and down her spine.
Her breath came and went in ragged gasps, filled with a tension so strong she felt as if she might snap in half.
And then some of the tension eased as the naked tip of her breast was drawn into the warm haven of his mouth, the gentle suckling caress suddenly making the tension even more unbearable, wanting more, needing more, pressing Quinn against her as she begged for more.
The gentle caress became a pleasure-pain as he drew on her fiercely, her gown pulled down completely to her waist as one of his hands cupped the other breast, flicking the sensitised tip in the same rhythm as he was sucking on the other nipple.
Her legs gave way weakly, and she fell back on to the bed, Quinn following her down, arching her spine so that she was offered up to him like a sacrifice, and he laved the other nipple with his tongue now, resisting all her efforts to increase the pressure of the caress, driving her wild with need.
A strong hand travelled the length of her thigh, teasing, tempting, searching, but never quite giving her what she needed.
‘Touch me,’ she pleaded against his lips. ‘Oh God, Quinn, touch me!’
He looked down at her with fevered eyes, his hair falling carelessly across his forehead where her fingers had tangled in the silky thickness seconds earlier.
What he read in her eyes seemed to reassure him, and his mouth claimed hers again fiercely as he wrenched open the front of his shirt, material ripping as he did so, her bared breasts suddenly nestled against the hardness of his chest, the dark hair there an erotic abrasion against her sensitised flesh.
And then he touched her, as she had pleaded to be touched, his hand curved against her fiery warmth, the ache there becoming a blaze, tiny explosions beginning in her body as she felt herself about to lose control completely, breathing raggedly as time seemed to stand still and she felt herself on the edge of flight, of soaring as high as the stars—higher!
‘Elizabeth?’ a gentle knock on the door accompanied the query.
Marni!
Elizabeth didn’t know who was the more shocked by the interruption, Quinn or herself, Quinn’s expression one of stunned horror as he turned to look at the closed bedroom door.
She looked down at herself, at the red dress that had been pushed down to her waist to bare her breasts, dusky-rose peaks thrusting forward temptingly, her long legs bared too where Quinn had caressed her wildly seconds earlier. She looked like a wanton, could only guess at the tangled silkiness of her hair and her lips swollen with passion.
And Quinn’s daughter stood on the other side of that closed door!
‘Elizabeth?’ she called again softly, obviously unsure of her presence in the room.
The two on the bed remained completely still, Eli
zabeth staring up at Quinn with pained eyes as his gaze remained fixed on the door. He was just as rumpled as she was, his bow-tie hanging loosely down his shirt front, his shirt actually ripped beside the buttons in a couple of places where he had been in such a hurry to know the feel of her naked breasts against him. His lips were as swollen as she knew hers must be, a fire still burning in his eyes. He looked nothing like the immaculately dressed man who had entered her bedroom a short time ago!
Dear God, if Marni hadn’t interrupted them she had no doubt they would have taken their passion to its natural conclusion, that she would even now be in Quinn’s arms as he possessed her completely!
Self-disgust ripped through her like a searing pain, and she felt ill at what she had almost allowed to happen—what she had actively encouraged to happen! God, how she had wanted Quinn, how she had needed him. The man who had been the cause of Fergus’s death!
There was silence outside the room now, indicating that Marni had probably gone downstairs in search of her. Whether the young girl had gone or not, she couldn’t lie here on the bed beside Quinn any longer!
She was pulling her dress back into place as he turned to her with dark eyes, scrambling off the side of the bed as he would have taken her in his arms, breathing agitatedly as the passion they had shared could still be felt in the room.
‘Honey—’
‘I think you had better go,’ she rasped, turning away from the sight of him kneeling on her bed, the evidence of how she had raked her nails down his chest clearly revealed by the red welts on his flesh. Dear God, she had been so lost to passion she hadn’t known what she was doing!
She swayed dizzily as she caught sight of her reflection in the full-length mirror across the room. Her hair was a tangled mess, her eyes still feverish, her mouth a swollen pout, completely bare of lipgloss but red and full anyway, the skin left bare above the red dress showed signs of faint red scratches, and she remembered how pleasurable the slight abrasion of Quinn’s chin had felt against her as she burned for him. The dress itself was creased and still in slight disarray, and she was wearing only one of the matching red shoes, the other having fallen to the floor as she fell back upon the bed.
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