Having come to a decision, she took a deep breath and cautiously lowered her hard-held barriers. “Not tomorrow, Quin. Zoe is expecting to have the day with you. I’ll need to speak to my mother about it but perhaps we could all have lunch together on Sunday.”
His tense stillness was instantly broken. An audible intake of air expanded his chest, then whooshed out as he heaved himself up and rolled Nicole onto her back. Propped on his elbow, he grinned down at her, pleasure and triumph sparkling in his eyes.
“Don’t think that means we’re going to talk about a wedding,” she shot at him, refusing to be manoeuvred all his way.
His grin diminished into a wry little smile. “Thank you, Nicole. To my mind, there has been more than enough punishment for crimes committed. I’m glad you agree.”
Punishment…she frowned over the term. Had she been punishing Quin for not loving her by keeping any knowledge of his child from him? Not consciously, though she certainly had to admit to many vengeful thoughts since meeting him again at the Havana Club.
He lifted a hand and gently smoothed the creases from her forehead. “Don’t worry,” he murmured in his rich velvet voice. “It will be all right. I promise you.”
It was an impossible promise, Nicole thought, but she didn’t want to think any more because Quin was kissing her again and stressing over the future could wait until tomorrow. Nothing was going to change between now and then.
He made it easy to pretend there was caring in his kisses, tenderness in the sensuality of his caresses. Maybe if she pretended enough, she could bring herself to believe he loved her.
And it wasn’t just great sex.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
THIS was his woman, Quin thought, holding Nicole close and revelling in the pleasure of their naked intimacy. It seemed absurd to him that she wouldn’t simply accept that he was her man. The sex wouldn’t be so good—so great—if they weren’t in tune, instinctively meeting each other’s needs, responding to whatever was wanted. Why was she resisting the idea of marrying him?
Surely she understood that nothing now stood in his way of giving a firm commitment to a future together. It would be best for Zoe to have her parents married and all three of them living under the same roof. Travelling back and forth for visits was an inefficient use of time.
Quin told himself to curb his impatience. Nicole was a very intelligent person. And reasonable. She was allowing his mother to meet Zoe. That was a big step, given that she had been shut out of his mother’s life in the past. It was probably enough at this point to have planted the seed of a wedding, start her thinking about it, not push too hard. The sense of so much time lost was eating at him, but maybe his best play now was a waiting game, gradually wearing down Nicole’s resistance to his plan.
She heaved a sigh, the warm spread of her breath across his chest making his skin tingle. His hand automatically began gliding down her spine, seeking more sensory pleasure. He loved every feminine curve of her body, loved the voluptuous softness of her bottom.
“You should go back to your mother, Quin. It must be hours since we left her. The hotel can call a taxi to take me home.”
Unwelcome words.
He wanted to immerse himself in feeling.
“It’s our night together,” he said.
She hitched herself up to address him face to face. “You brought your mother into it. People are usually out of kilter with their sleep patterns after a long flight. If she’s restless…”
“She can look after herself, Nicole.”
Her expression of concern hardened to glittering mockery. “What? She’s served your purpose so you don’t have to give her any more attention? Still working on that basis, Quin?”
He frowned at the harsh criticism. “My mother understands how important you are to me. She understands I’ll be spending as much time with you as I can.”
“Of course.” Her tone was bitterly ironic. “Your needs come first. They always have.”
Before he could counteract the allegation she rolled away from him, off the bed and onto her feet, defiantly declaring, “I’m getting dressed and going home.”
“We have a deal,” he reminded her, more in frustration than with the intent of keeping her to it.
She had already bent to pick up her clothes from the floor. Very slowly she straightened up, standing with her chin lifted high, meeting his gaze with a look of fierce scorn. “How remiss of me! What with your visit to my daughter tomorrow, and your mother’s visit to come on Sunday, I quite forgot I was your paid whore. Perhaps we should revise the arrangements for these family visits.”
“No!”
Her arms folded belligerently. “You expect to get everything your own way, Quin?”
He’d struck the wrong note with her and the danger of losing the ground he’d made forced him into a fast re-appraisal of the situation. He propped himself on his side and grimaced apologetically, gesturing an appeal for a stay of judgement as he conceded, “Okay, I guess I’m being selfish, not wanting to let you go. The truth is…I never will have enough of you Nicole, so I’m greedy for whatever you’ll give me.”
“You’re getting more of my time than we bargained for,” she stated tersely, not softening one bit.
“I know. And I’m grateful for your generosity.”
She looked away from him, thinking her own private thoughts. The tension emanating from her put Quin on edge. Should he get up and hold her, cut the distance she was putting between them? Or give her room to move whatever way she wanted?
He waited.
She shook her head, chiding herself as she muttered, “I agreed to stay the night. Twenty-six nights.” Her gaze met his derisively. “This is the thirteenth. You still have another thirteen, Quin. I shouldn’t have let myself get distracted by other considerations.”
The number, thirteen, had never sounded so ominous to him. He had to change what she was trying to put back into place right now. It was suddenly very clear that not even great sex would get him what he wanted with Nicole. He quickly rose from the bed and gently grasped her upper arms to hold her still and concentrate her attention on what he had to say. Her eyes locked onto his, challenging the kind of man he was. He spoke quietly, injecting each word with intensely serious purpose.
“I don’t want you as my whore, Nicole. I want you as my wife.”
Instant recoil in her expression. No pause to consider. “I guess that would be very convenient for you, Quin, but I don’t feel like serving your convenience for the rest of my life,” she stated flatly, then nailed her point of view by adding, “I’d like you to see things my way, too.”