Chapter Three

I fell into a deep, dreamless sleep of black nothingness and when I awoke I stretched out my arms and legs hesitantly, disoriented by the unfamiliar bed with its exotic scented sheets and deep, luxurious pillows.

“Hey, sleeping beauty.”

I opened my eyes and spotted the floaty white curtains wafting in the breeze and became aware of a dip in the mattress. I sat bolt upright, blinking rapidly. At the end of the bed sat a man. It wasn’t Liam, it was a stranger. I’d never seen him before. My heart stuttered and my stomach clenched. I opened my mouth, preparing to scream.

“Hey, shh, shh, I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to scare you.” He reached and pressed his hands on my lower legs through the duvet. His dark eyebrows lowered and his jaw set firm. “I’m Quinn, Liam must have mentioned me.”

I gulped as my situation and surroundings flooded back to my sleep-addled brain. “Er, yes, yes of course,” I managed. “Quinn, yes Liam did mention you. I wasn’t sure what time you’d be home.”

“Early for a change, it’s only 7:30.”

I quickly calculated how long I’d been asleep—for most of the day.

“Liam’s been shopping for you,” Quinn said with an American twang to his words. He reached to the floor and brought up a bulging Gap bag. “I hope you like, but if not it can go right back.”

I pushed a hand through my messy hair and studied him. He had a long face, a nose that would be considered a little big if it wasn’t perfectly straight, and wide, soft lips, the lower one fuller than the top. “That’s kind of Liam but I can’t afford clothes from Gap,” I worried.

“I don’t think he’s considering it anything other than a gift.” Quinn’s coal black eyes flashed and his lips tightened. “You should just say thanks to avoid offending him.” There was something about Quinn’s tone that indicated he wasn’t used to being disobeyed—if he gave an instruction he expected it to be carried out, to the letter.

“Okay,” I said, delving cautiously into the bag. Who was I to argue? I was desperate, and I could always pay him back once I got myself straight. I pulled out a pack of pastel t-shirts, size six, that would do nicely. A pair of distressed jeans and a pair of smart navy ones followed, both would fit nicely, three long-sleeved thin cotton tops, a short caramel-colored skirt, a pair of khaki trainers and some brown beaded flip- flops—both size four. “How did he know what sizes?”

“I’m guessing he checked out the clothes you peeled off, and the shoes.” Quinn nodded to the dressing table where my dress was draped over the chair back and my ludicrously high shoes lay abandoned.

“This is perfect,” I said with a grateful flood of relief. “I’ll have to go and thank him.”

“Not now you can’t.”

“Why?”

“He’s in his office.”

“I’ll only take a second.”

“You can’t disturb Liam once he gets immersed in work. He’s like Jekyll and Hyde. All cute and friendly when he’s away from the computer but the minute he gets his creative head on you can’t go near him.” Quinn leaned closer and dropped his voice to a low growl. “He’ll bite your head off, Ariane, and I don’t think you’d like that part of you being bitten, not by Liam.”

I pulled the duvet up to my chin, acutely aware that I was wearing only my bra and knickers, and a strange man was sitting on the bed talking about me being bitten.

Quinn, on the other hand, seemed to delight in the situation and dropped his gaze as though he could see through the bed linens. I felt vulnerable and excited all at the same time as he licked his lips and a muscle flexed in his cheek. Whilst Liam had the look of a Hollywood hunk, all blond and tanned with a full wattage smile and the buff body of a god, Quinn had an aura of sin about him. He was olive-skinned with a mop of raven hair, he had blacker than black eyes and a heavy sprinkle of stubble around his chiselled jawline. He wasn’t as thickset as Liam, he looked leaner, taller, more refined, though of course this was a guess since he was wearing a pristine charcoal suit and I couldn’t really be sure what lay beneath. I glanced at his hands resting on the pink duvet cover. He had short, square nails but his fingers were long and elegant and he’d knotted them in a controlled, patient manner.

“Are you hungry?” he asked, his heavy-lidded eyes drifting back up to my face. “I’m starving, I’ve been in theater all day.”

Something told me he was hungry, but with a pop of nervous excitement I realized it wasn't for food. “Yeah, I guess,” I said, swallowing tightly. It didn’t seem that long since the temptation to invite Liam into my bed had washed over me and now I was looking at Quinn and thinking how damn close he was, how much I liked that proximity and how I wouldn’t kick him out of my bed either.

“Then get dressed and I’ll take you out.” Quinn unfolded his long frame and tossed another smaller bag onto the bed. “Underwear and toiletries,” he said. “I bought these for you on the way home.”

“I, er...thanks.”

“I think you’ll find the sizes correct.”

I opened my mouth to ask how he knew, but something stopped me and instead I watched him square his shoulders and turn to the door. “Take your time,” he said, pulling at the handle. “Have a shower or perhaps a bath. Bay restaurants are open ’til late.”

As soon as the door clicked shut I tipped out the bag he’d handed me. Underwear in Quinn’s world consisted of seven size six thongs, all lace and covering a rainbow spectrum of colors. The toiletries were nice, too nice—Clarins, Body Shop, a load of Yves Saint Laurent makeup and a big, chunky hairbrush. No one had ever spent so much money on me in one day. I may have left everything behind, but suddenly I had a whole lot of much cooler stuff.

I slid out of bed and padded into the en-suite. It was compact but functional with a bath, shower, loo and sink. One wall was completely mirrored and there was a small cabinet—empty.

I decided to have a bath. It would do me good to soak my limbs. I set the faucet on full and dolloped in a generous amount of shea butter bubbles. Within seconds the room was foggy and damp with fragrant steam. I stripped out of my underwear, knotted up my hair and sank into the hot, milky water.

“Ariane.”

I swivelled, took in a sharp breath and quickly crossed my hands over my bare breasts. Quinn stood in the doorway holding out a white mug.

“Here,” he said. His eyes were steady on mine as though willing himself not to look at my nakedness. “I thought you might like a coffee before we go out.”

“I, er, yes, thanks.” I swallowed and my heart rate increased. He’d stripped to just his suit trousers, but unlike him I couldn’t train my eyes on just his face. I took in his wide shoulders, neat pecs sprinkled with just the right amount of coiled, black hair and his trim waistline. There was a hint of a six-pack before the neat row of hair traveled to his belt buckle and then disappeared temptingly. My artistic eye took over and I thought how much I’d like to paint his naked torso.

He stepped into the bathroom and I drew up my knees with a quiet splosh. I should be telling him to get out, demanding to know what sort of way he’d been brought up to think it okay to barge in on a lady bathing. But I couldn’t. There was something about Quinn that was magnetic. The way he moved, the way he looked at me, it was fascinating. I found myself drawn to him, drawn to the sexy aura that bounced around him. It sent blood racing to my breasts and created a heavy ache in my pelvis.

“Thanks,” I said as he set the mug down on the side of the bath.

“Don’t mention it.”

Now, I noticed, his attention dropped to my upper body. It was as though he needed me to look at him first to gain permission to study me. I saw a flash of inquisitiveness and knew he wanted to see what my arms were hiding. But hell, he was a doctor, he must have seen hundreds of breasts before. What did I have different to anything else he’d ever seen?

I removed my forearms and reached forward for the drink. My breasts instantly regained their roundness from where I’d flattened them and I could feel my nipples hardening, twisting to tight points.

I heard his breath hitch as I took a sip of the delightfully rich coffee. I don’t think he’d expected me to give anything away. He poked out his tongue and licked his bottom lip as he straightened. “I’ll shower now you’ve finished running water,” he said, his American accent a little stronger than before. “See you in a while.”

“Okay,” I said, feeling a sudden sense of power over this apparently fiercely self-controlled man. The way his pupils had dilated as he studied me and the action of his tongue confirmed what I’d thought earlier, he was hungry for me, which was just as well because I was hungry for him. Lust at first sight was rare in my world but today, for the first time in my twenty-eight years, I’d met two men who were both hotter than hot. It was doing strange things to my poor, neglected body and there was something in me building that sooner or later would have to be satisfied.

“Ariane,” Quinn said as he reached the door.

“Yes.” I looked over my shoulder at him.

“Liam was right when he told me you were gorgeous.” His eyebrows lowered. “You’re divine, and I’m so glad you answered our ad.”

“Me too,” I said with a smile. “Me too, Quinn.”

Quinn took me to a fabulous French restaurant with a view of the lively marina. He insisted I sit facing the bobbing white yachts and watch the wash of oranges, pinks and purples the setting sun created over the bay. He ordered champagne and requested a selection of the chef’s best dishes for us to share—all of which were delicious.

“Have you and Liam been friends long?” I asked, popping in a gooey petit four and feeling my mouth water for more the second I’d swallowed it.

“Four years this month.”

I raised my eyebrows, surprised that Quinn knew it to the month. “How did you meet?”

He took a sip of champagne and then wiped the corners of his mouth with a white linen serviette. “He was in America. In New York.”

“Is that where you’re from? New York?”

“No, Boston. But I was working in Manhattan at the time.”

“And Liam was what? On holiday or business?”

“Something like that.” He carefully refolded his serviette and flattened it on the side of the table.

“And you hit it off straightaway.”

“Not straightaway, it took a while, but he was a good friend when I needed one and that’s what counts.”

“Well, I’m sure you’re a good friend, too. He must think a lot of you if you’ve invested in property and live together.”

“Yeah, there’s a mutual respect there.” Quinn nodded thoughtfully and then the side of his mouth twitched into a half smile. “He’s a great guy to share with.”

I drained my champagne and the attentive waiter quickly topped up the glass. Quinn waved his hand over the top of his, refusing more. As I watched bubbles race to the surface of my flute I knew there was one question I had to ask. It couldn’t be put off any longer. “And what about girls?” I braced for disappointment, fully expecting to hear there were two gorgeous, supermodel-type girlfriends on the scene who I’d never be able to compete with. “Has either of you got a girlfriend I’ll meet whilst I’m staying with you?”

Quinn’s smile dropped. He looked at me. His eyes were so dark there was no distinct line between the pupil and iris, and the depths flashed like the black lava at the base of a volcano. “No girls,” he said quietly. He pushed a hand through his turf of short dark hair and rubbed at the nape of his neck.

“I find that hard to believe.” I smiled though I was aware it was a nervous smile, and I couldn’t help fiddling with the stem of my glass.

“Believe it.” He reached forward and his long, elegant fingers touched the tips of mine. “There haven’t been girls in either of our lives for a long time, too long.”

“But why, you’re both...” I paused, not wanting to use the words drop-dead gorgeous. “Good-looking, successful...”

“Our lifestyles, or rather work, has meant meeting people is hard.” He shook his head as if disagreeing with himself. “No, that’s not what I meant. Liam’s lifestyle makes meeting people hard. He works from home, he prefers it now, and although I meet plenty of people, being on call makes it pretty impossible to be relied upon, you know, for dates and stuff.” He rubbed his thumb over the back of my hand very, very lightly. “Being out with a pretty woman and finishing a meal, actually reaching the dessert menu, is extremely rare. I usually have to cancel, or race off.” He moved his fingers from mine and reached into his trouser pocket. “Because of this thing.” He withdrew a small black box and tipped it my way to show me a small illuminated screen.

“What is it?” My skin missed his gentle but somehow possessive touch.

“A pager. My team can get hold of me anytime, anyplace. I don’t like to be more than fifteen minutes from the neuro ward, and if they need me, if a patient needs me, then that takes priority over everything, including a date.” He shrugged. “I gave up dating some time ago.”

“Can’t your team give you a night off once in a while?”

Quinn dropped the pager back into his pocket. “In theory, but I’m the first to admit I’m a control freak, I like to be there, checking ICPs, monitoring neurological functions, and if anyone needs their cranium opened then ultimately it’s my responsibility.”

“So you could give up some of the burden on your shoulders? If you wanted to.”

“No.” He shook his head. “I couldn’t live with myself if someone died and maybe I could’ve prevented it. I’m the top of my game, I take calculated risks other neurosurgeons don’t because I’ve done it before, seen it before.” He leaned over the table. “Can you imagine what it’s like, Ariane, to be the best of the best, to get to heal people, bring them back from the brink of death?”

I shook my head.

“It’s amazing, a real high, a buzz beyond belief, as exhilarating as sex, which is of course ironic, because I could never give it up, not even for a woman, which has always meant it’s one or the other for me, sex or work.”

Hearing Quinn say the word sex in his smooth accent and with a dirty twinkle in his eye had me pressing my thighs together. “But what kind of woman would expect you to?” I managed through my blur. “Give up work?”

“All of the women I’ve ever met.” He dropped his eyebrows low, making me wonder what had occurred in his past. “It’s why I haven’t bothered for so long, but...” He reached out for my hand again and this time held it tighter. “But now,” he said quietly, “you’re here.”