The Secret Baby Revenge. Emma Darcy
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“No wife to choose it for you, Quin?” Nicole slid in coolly, trying to ward off the heat she knew he was going to turn on her.
“No. No wife,” he quickly asserted.
“Perhaps I should have said partner,” she drawled. “As I recall, you were commitment-shy.”
“On the contrary, I’d say I had a history of excessive commitment.” He effected an ironic grimace. “Unfortunately, not always choosing the right priority at the right time, much to my regret. I plan on correcting that error in judgment.”
“Lucky for the woman you’re with now,” Nicole rolled back at him, burning over the smooth reference to regrets. Quin was a master at pressing the right buttons to get what he wanted and from the amount of forceful energy being directed at her, she had no doubt he was hunting her head for a new round of pillow-talk in the very near future.
He shrugged. “I’m not with any particular woman.”
“You mean no one of any importance,” she mocked, knowing the only people of importance to Joaquin Sola were those who served his ambition.
“Every person has value,” he quickly slung at her, the clever grey eyes giving her a flatteringly high evaluation on the desirability scale.
“You’re right,” she agreed silkily, her own eyes sizzling with challenge as she added, “but to some people, money counts for a lot more than anyone’s value.”
Her eyes were locked onto his, watching his sharp intelligence go to work on the conflicts that had ruptured their relationship five years ago.
“Let’s not pretend money doesn’t count, Nicole. It adds a value to everyone. Like it or not, it’s the way the world works,” he asserted sardonically.
Too true. And the bottom was going to fall out of her world for the lack of it. A surge of hatred for all the moneymakers who cared for nothing else poured acid into her voice.
“How are you measuring your worth these days, Quin?” she mocked, goaded into striking directly at him. “Have you reached your target yet? How many million were you aiming for? Or was there no fixed number in your mind, just a cumulative amount that could never be enough?”
He cocked his head, weighing the load of bitterness he’d probably heard in her words. “What would you consider enough, Nicole?” he asked softly. “What would meet your needs?”
For a moment she was seduced by the thought that Quin might now have deep enough pockets to actually come to the rescue. But that would involve him in her life, and if she opened one door to him…no, she couldn’t go there. Far more would be at stake than the financial ruin she and her mother were facing. Some wreckages one could recover from. Others lasted a lifetime.
She looked at him with arch scepticism and said, “My needs were never part of your equation.”
“I’d like to make them so.”
“Since when? Two minutes ago? The moment you decided to break in on my night out?”
“If the intention is sincere, the timing shouldn’t be relevant.”
She shook her head at this arrogant belief that her past experience with him and the years between then and now could simply be dismissed. “It’s a bit late to be showing interest in me, Quin, and quite frankly, I have none in you,” she stated bluntly.
“It shouldn’t ever be too late to make some amends on past mistakes,” he argued.
“Raking over dead ashes is hardly profitable,” she mocked.
“Amazing how often a live ember is found.”
He was just as aware as she was that the chemistry between them was still active. It had led her down a destructive path once and Nicole was determined it would not take her there again. “A spark of fool’s gold, Quin,” she strongly asserted.
“Not if it can be fanned into a flame. It’s a cold life without fire, Nicole.”
“I’m sure there are many warm hearths that would welcome you.”
“One burnt more brightly than any other. I’d like to find my way back to it.”
“Unfortunately I can’t provide you with a magic door. You’ll have to look elsewhere.” She waved her hand in conclusive farewell. “Hasta la vista.”
He nodded an acknowledgment of her dismissal, but there was no acceptance of defeat in his eyes as he answered, “Until we meet again.” A whimsical little smile was directed at Jade and Jules. “A pleasure to make your acquaintance.”
“And fascinating to make yours,” Jade instantly replied, goggle-eyed over the encounter.
“Try Nick’s Knickers,” Jules advised. “Magic door every time.”
Quin laughed, saluting them both as he moved off, no doubt warming himself with the satisfaction of knowing he’d made a winning impression on her friends.
Nicole gritted her teeth. One favourable comment about him from either Jade or Jules and she’d explode. The duel of words with Quin had left her pumped up—typical of any exchange between them. He’d got to her. He always had, putting an electric charge under her skin. No other man had ever come close to affecting her as Quin did, but that didn’t mean he was good for her. No way! And something savage in her wanted him to taste defeat—taste it, know it, hate it as much as she had.
Both Jade and Jules were looking at her as though they were seeing an entirely different woman to the Nicole they were familiar with, eyes avid with curiosity but mouths firmly buttoned until she opened up. Which she was not about to do. The door was shut on Joaquin Luis Sola.
“There’s no going back,” she stated flatly. “I don’t live at that address anymore.”
“The one you shared with him?” Jade quickly speculated.
“It wasn’t a place of sharing. It was a place of possession. Always on his terms.”
“Bad place,” Jules muttered sympathetically.
Nicole nodded. “I live in a different space now.”
“Maybe you’ve made your current space too tight,” Jade posed seriously. “What if he no longer lives at that address, either? Time and timing—” she wriggled her fingers “—very tricky things. Shifting sands, different circumstances, revolving doors…how long ago was it when you and Quin were an item?”
Jade had not been in Australia then, but if Nicole pinpointed the time it would be like handing her friend a bone she would gnaw at with intolerable persistence. Jade was far too adept at putting two and two together.
“Doesn’t matter,” she said, shrugging as she stood up from the table. “Distance has not made the heart grow fonder so just let this one go. Okay? I’m off to the powder room.”
“Seems a terrible waste,” she heard Jade mutter in a disgruntled tone.
Nicole made good her escape, hoping the subject of Quin would not be revived when she returned. Even so, the fun had gone out of the evening. Just knowing he was here made her feel tense, her nerves prickling with the sense of a dangerous threat to the life she’d made without him.
She wished she could just walk away right now, but leaving the club would signal a vulnerability she didn’t want to reveal, not to Jade and Jules, and certainly not to Quin Sola. If he was watching, if he came after her…no, she had to act as though she was totally impervious to his presence.
The powder room provided a safe refuge though she could only take a brief respite there if she was not to give the impression of hiding. The place was crowded—a queue for toilet cubicles and a crush of women along the vanity bench; washing hands, repairing make-up, restoring hairstyles. Nicole joined the queue and tried to block memories of Quin from crawling through her mind by eavesdropping