Chapter Four

I must have slept late, because when I pried open my eyes the bedroom was bright with daylight. I smoothed my hand over Liam’s chest and looked up at his sleeping face. His jaw was relaxed, his lips parted. His long, dark-blond lashes hovered over his cheeks and his sun-kissed hair was tousled across his forehead. I stretched up and pressed my mouth to his lightly stubbled jawline.

He didn’t stir. His breathing just continued slow and steady. I had no idea what time he’d come to bed or what time Quinn had gotten up. A deep, dreamless sleep had consumed me—eventually.

I carefully untangled my legs from Liam’s and slid to the edge of the bed. Remembering the shadows under his eyes last night, I wanted him to sleep as long as possible. He had nothing to race up for since he was working with a Taiwanese company at the moment, so was in a delayed time zone.

I padded across the cool wooden floor into the en suite and quietly shut the door. The morning air in the farmhouse always held a chill this time of year.

Turning on the faucet to full heat, I reached for Liam’s shaving gel and a new razor. He’d said yesterday he wanted me all smooth and soft. I’d shave off my pubic hair and later, when he was awake, surprise him. He’d like that. He’d always had a thing for my pussy when it was perfectly silky and smooth. From the first time he’d ever shaved me it had been one of his sexy little favorites.

Stepping into the large glass shower cubicle, I stood just out of the stream of deliciously hot water. Then I filled my fingertips with foam and liberally spread it around my female hair. Quickly soaking the razor, I set about removing my short black curls. After taking off the ones that made up the neat triangle above my pussy lips, I spread my legs wider, bent my back like a contortionist and carefully removed the thinner, paler ones lining the way to my entrance. When the job was done, I rinsed off and set the razor on the shelf.

Filling my palms with strawberry shower gel, I began to rub suds over my breasts, which were bigger now than when I’d first met Liam and Quinn. After having the girls they’d stayed a whole cup size larger. My nipples were darker too. Instead of pale pink they were a deep russet color. They were so much more sensitive too, and in turn more responsive. I twirled the shower gel around them, watching them turn to stiff peaks.

Spreading the fragrant gel into the dip of my waist and over the curve of my hips, I then stroked down to my pussy, assessing the job I’d done. My plump lips were smooth and soft, the skin sensitive and bare. I smiled. Liam would approve.

After dressing in jeans and a fleecy top, I headed downstairs and flicked on the coffee machine. I swallowed my birth control pill with an inch of water and let the dogs into the yard.

They galloped out, barking and tussling with one another. Grabbing a scoop of seed from the utility, I slipped on my boots and followed them. I let the hens out of their coop, scattered seeds over the cobbles and watched as they clucked happily around my ankles like a group of gossipy old women.

“Morning, girls. You laid any eggs yet?” I went over to the nesting box and lifted the lid. “Oh, well done,” I cooed, reaching in for the clutch of four eggs. Liam and I would have an omelet for breakfast.

Putting the warm eggs into the grain scoop, I headed back to the kitchen, shut the door, keen to keep the heat from the Aga in, and set the eggs next to the hot plate. “Oh, Betsy,” I sighed, lifting her down from the pine table where she was sniffing the buttery crumbs left over from Quinn’s discarded breakfast plate. “Will you never learn?” She meowed in complaint and darted out of the kitchen, no doubt to go and lie on the bed with Liam.

A scrap of paper next to the breadboard caught my eye. I picked it up, recognizing Quinn’s untidy scrawl.

I’m taking you dancing tonight.

I read it again.

I’m taking you dancing tonight.

Quinn had never, ever taken me dancing. Not in all the years we’d been together. I folded the paper in half and slipped it into my jeans pocket. Why on earth did he suddenly want to take me dancing? He liked to come home and relax. He liked it when it was just us. The quiet life, no demands and no expectations to be the super-controlled doctor he was at work.

I stared out the kitchen window at the sun stretching over the yard in long golden fingers. Where was he planning on taking me dancing? Had he enrolled us in a salsa class? We’d watched a TV show about it being the new craze sweeping the country and I’d made a passing comment that it looked like fun.

The coffee machine clicked off and I poured a mug and climbed the stairs to my studio. I would just have to wait and see what he had in mind, because with Quinn, nothing was ever guaranteed.

Early evening, Quinn appeared in the kitchen doorway dressed in smart black pants and a crisp black-and-white-checked shirt, the top two buttons undone, showing the start of the dark hair that coated his chest. “Ready?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.

I surveyed him. He looked good. Like, seriously good. For a moment I considered suggesting we make our own music and try out some naked dance moves. But he grabbed his wallet and pager, slipped his feet into black leather shoes and headed to the door.

“Yes, ready.” I stood, straightening the sleeveless silver-gray top and short red skirt I’d teamed with long, black leather boots. They were new boots, a birthday present from Liam. The tops sat just above my knees and the heels were precariously thin silver spikes. They made me feel incredibly sexy and it was great to have someplace to wear them.

Quinn’s gaze dropped down my body and the corner of his mouth tilted. “You look good enough to eat.”

“So do you.” I walked to him and kissed his cheek.

He’d showered and his skin was warm on my lips. He smelled divine, his freshly applied aftershave peppery and spiced, settling in my nose like a scented treat.

He smoothed his hands from the hollow of my back over my butt and touched my forehead with his lips. He breathed in deep too and I guessed he was filling up on the new perfume he’d bought me. Night Seduction it was called, an orchid-and frangipani-based fragrance, light but exotic.

“Are you sure you won’t come with us?” I asked, turning to Liam who sat at the kitchen table with the newspaper spread before him. Betsy was curled on his lap and I could just make out her trailing tail.

“Nah, I’m good.” He didn’t look up.

“I wish you would,” I said with a frown.

He glanced at Quinn. “Where are you going dancing?”

“A new bar opened near the hospital. There’s a band playing tonight, a good one apparently.”

“How do you know?” I asked, feeling a little disappointed it wasn’t salsa after all. “They might be rubbish.”

“The scrub nurses were talking about it yesterday. One of them knows the drummer and they’ve just signed a record deal. Their songs are really good for dancing to. It’s not all that hip-hop stuff.”

“What’s given you the sudden urge to dance?” I asked, unable to suppress a smile.

Quinn couldn’t stand rap or hip-hop. If it ever came on the radio he flicked it straight off.

“I haven’t especially. But I thought you’d like it. The nurses go out dancing all the time and I realized I never take you.” He sighed. “I just thought since we don’t need babysitters we should make the most of it. Plus…” He grinned. “You needed a chance to wear those boots.”

I smiled up at him. “It’s a lovely thought. And I do want to dance.” I turned to Liam again. “Please change your mind. We won’t stay long and it will do you good to get out.”

“Yeah, come with us, we won’t be late,” Quinn added. “I’ve got early rounds tomorrow.”

Liam touched his forehead then rubbed over his right eyebrow.

“You don’t have to get changed, jeans are fine if it’s just a bar,” I said, jutting out my hip. “And besides, you haven’t been off the farm for three weeks.”

He dropped his hand to the table. “I have,” he said indignantly.

“When?”

“I came with you to the horse show in Pendine.”

“Oh yes,” I said. “Well, apart from that you haven’t been out for three weeks. You’re turning into a recluse.”

“I like being a recluse,” he muttered, shutting his newspaper. He scraped back his chair. Betsy jumped from his lap with a disgruntled meow. “But if you want me to come, Ariane, I will.”

“Great,” Quinn said. “Let’s get going then.”

Liam stood and slipped his feet into faded black trainers, shoved his hand through his hair and sighed.

I shrugged into a fitted black jacket with a faux fur-lined collar and stepped out into the dark yard.

“I’m glad you’re coming,” I said to Liam as we waited for Quinn to lock the door. “I’m sure you’ll have fun once we get there.”

“If I’m with you then it will be fun,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around my waist and urging me across the cobblestones.

I leaned into him, glad of his body warmth and the support as we hurried through the cold. Liam had been quiet all day. Quiet as if lost in thought, so I was doubly glad he wouldn’t be sitting on his own all evening.

“Are you missing the girls?” I asked, thinking back to Quinn’s preoccupied thoughtfulness the night before.

“Yeah,” he said, opening the back door of Quinn’s Mercedes for me. “It’s always strange when they go, isn’t it?”

Quinn navigated through the narrow, winding lanes effortlessly and soon we reached the main ring road around the city and were plunged into the amber glow of streetlamps. The traffic was heavier, but we didn’t travel far before he turned off and negotiated the backstreets near the hospital. I gazed at the small town houses with their high front steps and thought how lucky we were to have so much space on the farm and what a wonderful environment we’d provided for the twins to grow up in. I’d always been a country girl at heart and although I enjoyed my time living on the bay with Liam and Quinn, relocating to the outskirts of the city had been a great move. The peace and quiet, the lack of neighbors, the fresh air and the animals all suited me very well. It certainly suited Liam, and Quinn was used to it now. His twenty-six-minute commute to the hospital was acceptable if he was called on an emergency―which he frequently was.

“Here it is,” Quinn said, slotting his car into a small space.

The building before us was wide and modern and set between a restaurant and a beauty parlor. Huge windows with heavy red drapes stretched on either side of a glass door that had Hanrahan’s written above it in slanting black letters.

Quinn killed the engine, took off his glasses and jumped out of the car. I hadn’t seen him so enthusiastic about going anywhere for a long time.

“Come on,” he said, opening my door and offering me his hand.

I looked into his sparkling eyes. “What time is the band due on?” I asked, stepping onto the sidewalk.

“I think they’re already on,” he said, “judging by the sound of it.”

Standing in the cool, dark air I understood what he meant. There was a deep thudding bass coming from the building and I could just make out singing. I glanced back into the car. Liam had made no move to get out.

“Come on,” I said. “Come and dance with me.”

He looked over his shoulder, glanced at me, then Hanrahan’s, took a deep breath and nodded once before opening his door and climbing out.

Quinn flicked his key fob at the car and it flashed and winked.

We pushed into the bar. Thumping music and thick warmth wrapped around me. Liam pressed in close behind and I reached for his hand. He didn’t like loud music and this was way above his decibel level. I felt bad for persuading him to come at all. I should have left him quiet with his newspaper and Betsy on his lap, but I’d wanted to dance with him as well as Quinn. It had been selfish of me and a sudden pang of guilt tugged my heartstrings.

Turning, I looked up into his handsome face. “Sorry,” I mouthed as we pressed through a crowd in order to keep up with Quinn.

His eyes were narrow and he tugged at his bottom lip. “It’s okay,” he said. “Really, it sounds like a funky band. We’ll have a nice time.”

I squeezed his hand, pleased that he was making an effort.

We drew up to the bar next to Quinn, who’d already caught the barman’s attention. A glass of white wine appeared in front of me, along with a lager and a cola. “What do you think?” he asked, looking around at the people lining the bar, his gaze keen and interested. “They’re good, aren’t they?”

“Yes,” I agreed, nodding and straining to see the band on stage. “They sound great.”

Hanrahan’s was clearly popular and a crush of people were dancing and talking, drinking and laughing. The band was on a small, raised stage, the cute lead singer clutching a microphone and singing about emotions eating him alive. The air was hot and sticky. I slipped off my jacket and Liam took it from me, folding it over the crook of his elbow.

“Are you glad we came?” Quinn asked, returning his attention to me and running his finger down my bare arm.

“Well, I will be once we’ve had a dance.” I grinned up at him.