Terms of Engagement

Thirteen

Quinn remained in London for a week, during which time Kira ached for him. She didn’t know how she could miss a man who’d worked so hard to ignore her before he’d left, but she did.

Then, suddenly he sent her a brief text informing her of his flight information for the next day. He said he’d hired a driver to pick him up. Then, right before he boarded his plane, he called her cell while she was still asleep. When she didn’t answer, he left a message saying he’d called to remind her of a company party they were attending that evening an hour after his flight was scheduled to land.

So, there would be no private time together his first night home.

“You can call my secretary to find out what to wear,” he’d said over the phone. Then his voice had lowered. “Missed you…worse than I thought I would,” he’d whispered before ending the call.

Damn. Damn. Damn. What rotten luck that she’d missed his call. What else might he have said if they’d actually talked? She replayed his message several times just to hear his mesmerizing voice say he’d missed her.

A lump formed in her throat. Why had she muted her phone before laying it on her bedside table?

Dialing his secretary, she asked what she should wear to the party.

“It’s formal, but Mr. Sullivan did tell me to suggest you wear something red.”

“Why red?”

“He didn’t say. The deal he pulled off with the EU will have far-reaching consequences for Murray Oil, hopefully positive. Since he’s returning in triumph, the party’s important to him. I’d suggest you go with his color choice, in case it fits with a bigger plan.”

Her heart thumping wildly, Kira took off early from Betty’s to indulge in a shopping spree with her mother in search of the perfect sexy red dress. Then she rushed home, with her low-cut scarlet gown and a pair of new heels, so she could take special pains getting dressed.

After the party, if Quinn was in a good mood, she would tell him she was pregnant.

At six, while she was combing her hair, his driver called to tell her Quinn’s plane had just landed. “I’ll have him home soon.”

“Can I please talk to him?”

“He’s on the phone. Business. But I’ll tell him to call you as soon as he finishes.”



When Quinn’s key turned in the lock, Kira hurried to the door to greet him. His luggage thumped heavily on the floor. Then he strode through the foyer with his phone still pressed to his ear.

His voice rang with authority as he stepped into the living room. When she met his hard, dark eyes, she saw the shadows of weariness under them. Even if he hadn’t bothered to call her from the car, she was so thrilled he was home, her heart leaped with pure joy.

“Gotta go,” he said abruptly. “We’ll wrap this up in the morning.” He flipped his phone shut and stared at her. “Sorry about the phone call. Business.”

“Of course. I understand.” She smiled tremulously.

His mouth curved, but his smile played out before it reached his eyes.

She wanted to rush into his arms, and it was only with great effort that she remained where she was. No matter how eager she felt, she would not throw herself at him.

“You look pale,” he said. “Thinner. Are you okay?”

She hadn’t been eating as regularly due to her morning sickness, but she couldn’t tell him that. At least, not now.

“I’m fine,” she whispered.

“Right. Why is that answer always your first line of defense?”

She didn’t know what to say to him. If only he would take her in his arms and kiss her, maybe that would break down the barriers between them.

His eyes burned her, and his hands were clenched. Was being married to her so difficult for him?

“I like the dress. It becomes you,” he murmured.

She blushed, pleased.

“I bought you something.” He tossed a box onto the sofa carelessly. “Open it and see if you like it.” He spoke casually, as if the gift was a token and nothing more.

When he turned sharply and walked down the hall to his bedroom, she felt a sickening sensation of loss. How foolish she’d been to dream they might have a new beginning.

Sinking onto the sofa, she opened the black box and let out a pleased cry when a necklace and earrings of rubies and diamonds exploded in fiery brilliance. He’d tucked his business card inside the box. On the back of it, scrawled in bold black ink, she read, “For my beautiful wife.”

Tears filled her eyes as she hesitantly touched the necklace. She quickly brushed the dampness away. The necklace was exquisite. Nobody had ever given her anything half so lovely.

In the next breath, she told herself the gift meant nothing. He was wealthy. It was for show. He’d bought the jewels to impress Murray Oil’s clients, stockholders and employees. He’d probably had someone pick them up for her. The gift wasn’t personal.

“Do you like it?” Tall and dark, he stood in the doorway looking gravely handsome in his elegant black suit.

“It’s too beautiful,” she whispered. “You shouldn’t have, but thank you.”

“Then stand up, and I’ll help you put it on. You have no idea how many necklaces I looked at. Nothing seemed right until I found this one.”

“You shopped for it yourself?”

“Indeed. Who could I possibly trust to select the right gift for my bride? The wrong necklace could overpower you.”

He let her secure the earrings to her ears before he lifted the necklace from the black velvet box and fastened it around her neck.

At the warmth of his fingertips against her nape, her skin tingled and her heart beat wildly. Was it possible to have an orgasm from sheer longing?

“With your dark hair, I thought rubies would become you, and they do,” he said, staring so long at the sparkle on her slim neck his gaze made her skin burn. “I imagined you wearing them and nothing else.”

In spite of herself, she giggled. This was more like the homecoming she’d fantasized about. In another moment, he would kiss her.

He stepped back to admire her and shot her an answering grin. Why, oh, why hadn’t he kissed her?

She pursed her lips, touched her hand to her throat.

His face grew guarded again; his lips set in that firm line she’d come to dread. Instead of taking her in his arms, he backed away almost violently. “Shall we go?” he said, his tone rough and deliberately impersonal.


Cut to the quick, she didn’t dare look at him as she nodded. During the short drive, he didn’t speak to her again.

As soon as they arrived at the party, he put his arm around her as executives and clients rushed up and surrounded him, all clamoring to congratulate Quinn on his successes in London.

Black silk rustling, Cristina was among the first who hurried to his side. Barely managing a cool smile for Kira, she placed a bejeweled, exquisitely manicured hand on Quinn’s cheek with practiced ease and kissed him lightly.

“I’m so proud of you,” she gushed in a low, intimate tone. “I knew you’d pull it off. See—everybody loves you now. Worries over.”

Clearly, he’d taken the time to inform her personally of his successes.

“So the deal went well?” Kira whispered into his ear when the lovely Cristina glided away.

He nodded absently as he continued shaking everybody’s hand.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You know now, don’t you?”

“But I’m your wife…”

“Unwillingly, as you keep reminding me. Which is why I’ve been working hard not to burden you with too much attention.”

Stung, her eyes burning and her heart heavy, she turned away. Why did it hurt that he saw no need to share the things that mattered to him when she’d known all along their marriage was for show?

She was sure he had a duty to mingle, so she was surprised when Quinn stayed by her side. When she noticed a dark-skinned man talking animatedly to her family, she asked Quinn who he was.

“Habib.”

“The man you were talking to after we made love that first time?”

He nodded. “I thought you two had met…at the wedding.”

“No, but we’ve talked on the phone this past week. Why did he think you should marry Jaycee instead of me?”

“Whatever he thought, he was wrong. What difference does it make now?”

“My mother told me today that I was adopted.”

When Quinn’s blue eyes darkened, she sensed that he knew more than he wanted to let on.

“Something you said that morning made me wonder if you and he somehow knew that,” she persisted.

He stiffened warily.

“I thought that if you had known, maybe you assumed my family cared more about her…and maybe that was why Habib concurred with my father that she was the better choice…?”

“Habib’s research did indicate a partiality on your father’s part for Jacinda.”

Her chest constricted. That truth was one of the reasons being loved in her own right by her husband was something that was beginning to matter to Kira more than anything.

“I preferred you from the first,” he countered.

He kept saying that. Could she dare to believe him?

“Doesn’t that count for something?” he asked.

“Our marriage was a business deal.”

“So you keep reminding me.”

“You only married me to make taking over Murray Oil go more smoothly, and now that you’ve made a place for yourself, your need for me is at an end.”

“I’ll decide when my need for you is at end. What do you say we end this depressing conversation and dance?” He took her hand. “Shall we?”

“You don’t really want to dance with me— I’m just—”

“Don’t put yourself down,” he growled as he pulled her into his hard arms. “You’re my wife.”

“So, dancing with me at the company party is expected?” she said.

“I suppose.” His grip strengthening, he smiled grimly down at her. “Did it ever occur to you that I might want to dance with you even if it wasn’t expected?”

She was aware of people watching them and reminded herself that he was only dancing with her to make the guests believe their marriage was real.

From a corner, her laughing parents and a smiling Jaycee watched them, too. Looking at them, so happy together, Kira felt left out, as usual. Even being in Quinn’s arms, knowing she was pregnant with his child, gave her no joy. How could it? Had he touched her other than for public viewing, or shown her any affection since he’d returned? Their marriage was a business deal to him, and one that wasn’t nearly as important as the one he’d just concluded in London.

“Quit thinking dark, mutinous thoughts, and just dance,” he whispered against her ear. “Relax. Enjoy. You’re very beautiful, you know, and I’d seize any excuse to hold you in my arms.”

Despite her determination to resist his appeal, his words, his nearness and his warm breath against her earlobe had her blood beating wildly.

She knew it was illogical, but being held in his arms reassured her. Soon she almost forgot dancing with him was just for show. Everyone in the gilded room blurred except her handsome husband.

They didn’t speak again, but his eyes lingered on her lips as the music washed through her. Did he want to kiss her? She wanted it so much, she felt sick with longing. Surely he knew it. If so, he gave no indication, and, after a while, all the spinning about began to make her feel dizzy and much too hot.

She didn’t want to be sick. Not now…not when he was finally holding her, when he seemed almost happy to be with her. Still, she couldn’t take another step or she’d faint.

“I need some air,” she whispered.

“All right.” He led her round along the shadowy edges of the room until they came to a pair of tall French doors that opened onto a balcony overlooking the sparkling city. Gallantly, he pulled her outside. The night was mild, pleasant even. Once they were alone, his grip around her tightened in concern and he pressed her close.

“You look so strained and pale. Are you sure you’re okay?”

She gulped in a breath of air. And then another. “I’m perfectly fine,” she lied, believing that surely in a minute or two she would be.

“Obviously, even being in my arms is an ordeal.”

“No!”

“You don’t have to lie. I know well enough that I’ve given you ample reason to dislike me.”

“I don’t dislike you.”

“But you don’t like me. How could you? I was your father’s enemy.”

“Quinn—”

“No, hear me out. Since the island, I’ve kept my distance in order to make our marriage less onerous to you. I know I pushed you into this situation too hard and too fast, and I took advantage of you the night of the storm. I’m not proud of that. But do you have any idea how difficult it’s been to stay away from you ever since?

“I wanted to give you your precious space and time to get used to our arrangement. I prayed that a week’s separation would give me the strength to resist you when I returned,” he muttered. “So, I didn’t call you from London, and when I came home, I tried to be the cold husband you desire. But after our days apart, when you looked so ethereal and beautiful in your flashy red dress, my vow not to touch you drove me crazy. God help me, ever since the first day I saw you at your parents’ ranch, you’ve obsessed me.”

“But I don’t desire a cold husband. I’ve wanted you, too,” she whispered, wishing her feet felt a little steadier beneath her. Despite the fresh air, she was beginning to feel light-headed again.

“You have?”

Whatever encouragement he sought in her eyes, he found. Instantly, his lips were on hers, but when he crushed her closer, holding her tightly and kissing her, her dizziness returned in a sickening rush.

“I’ve wanted you so much,” he murmured. “Missed you so much. You have no idea. Darlin’, tell me you missed me, at least a little?”

Her heart beat violently even as she gulped in another breath. “Of course I did,” she managed to say even as his dear face blurred and the walls of the building and the twinkling lights beneath them whirled dizzyingly like bright colors dancing in a kaleidoscope.

She willed herself to be strong, to fight the dizziness. “I did… But there’s something I have to tell you, Quinn. Something…wonderful.”

Little blue stars whirred. Not good. On the next beat the bottom dropped out of her tummy, and try as she might to save herself by gulping in mouthfuls of air, she couldn’t get her breath.

“Quinn—”

Her hands, which had been pushing frantically against his hard chest, lost their strength. She was falling into a heavy darkness that was hot and swirling and all-enveloping.

The last thing she saw was Quinn’s anxious face as his arms closed around her.

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