Her Baby Secret. Kim Lawrence
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you hadn’t been so unreasonable I wouldn’t have needed to resort to less than open tactics.’
‘Dirty tactics, you mean,’ she retorted, pulling her wrist free from his grip and waving an admonitory finger in front of his nose. ‘We both know that when you want something there’s just about nothing you won’t do!’ she snapped furiously.
Quinn gazed levelly back at her, not the least disturbed by her heated indictment. He reached forward and ran a finger slowly down the soft curve of her cheek, his piercing eyes darkening as she flinched back as if burnt.
‘And at the moment I want you…’
Her angry flush faded with dramatic abruptness leaving Rowena marble pale. Her breath emerged as a shaky tremulous gasp. Where was the scornful put-down when she needed one?
‘Is that meant to be some sort of turn-on? Well, I’ve got news for you…’ It worked extremely well. ‘Your problem is you like everyone to know about your trophy girlfriends,’ she jeered hoarsely. ‘It makes you feel the big man to see yourself plastered all over the gossip columns.’
‘I think that’s slight exaggeration, Rowena, I barely rate a couple of lines in Country Life.’
‘Your false modesty makes me sick.’
‘You’ll get used to the idea, you know,’ he promised.
‘What idea?’
‘The idea of being part of a couple.’
‘And if I don’t?’
‘You don’t have any choice, angel.’
‘How do you figure that one?’
‘You need me.’
Rowena gasped. His arrogance was simply unbelievable! ‘Have you always been delusional?’
His expression abruptly softened as he assimilated the torment in her wide-spaced eyes. ‘You need me, about as much as I need you. See, I can do it, and I’ve had as little practice at it as you have. It hardly hurts at all to admit it. I’m going to teach you to say it,’ he promised.
Eyes wide with horror and lips clamped defiantly shut, she shook her head vigorously from side to side.
‘We’ll see, shall we?’
There was no challenge in his statement, just total, complete conviction—whether this conviction stemmed from a misplaced notion that she was female and therefore weak and malleable, or a belief in his own ability to bend anything or anyone to his will, Rowena didn’t know. She did know a challenge would have been much easier to deal with.
Rowena wanted to put him right, but she felt strangely disinclined to do anything, move, speak, breathe even—perhaps it had something to do with the almost narcotic quality of the combination of his level, deep voice and the sexily slumbrous gleam in his eyes.
‘I did knock, Rowena…’ Her PA’s tentative voice made Rowena start.
‘Yes, Bernice?’ she responded, putting as much clear space rapidly between herself and Quinn as was possible. Her mind wasn’t functioning with its usual clarity, but at least she wasn’t staring up at him like a hypnotised rabbit screaming ‘eat me’ any longer.
This was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted to see him. He walked in a room and her wits flew out the nearest window, which made no sense! Rowena had experienced sexual attraction before and stayed firmly in charge of her feelings at every level—the person involved only knew about it if she wanted him to. With Quinn she didn’t have that luxury, she was clumsy, inarticulate and painfully needy.
‘There’s a call from your sister and she says it’s urgent…’
Rowena frowned. Holly had taken her new fiancé up to Scotland to show him off to their elderly grandparents who lived in a remote part of the country called Wester Ross.
‘Fine, I’ll take it, Bernice,’ Rowena replied to her normally discreet assistant who was shooting surreptitious looks in Quinn’s direction.
The young woman withdrew, blushing, when Quinn smiled at her.
‘Holly, it’s me…do you mind? This is private!’ she hissed, covering the mouthpiece and glaring across at Quinn.
‘Say hello to Holly for me,’ he requested, unperturbed by her hostility as he strolled to the far end of the room and began to read the titles on the spines of the files that filled the shelves there.
‘What? Yes, it is Quinn. No…yes, he is here. It doesn’t matter, I’ll explain later. What’s wro—?’ Rowena grew silent as her sister broke into impetuous speech the other end of the line.
Rowena had her back turned to him, but Quinn could almost feel her distress as the slim, supple line of her back grew tense. Her next faltering exclamation confirmed his suspicions—Holly didn’t have good news.
‘Oh, God, no!’ Rowena raised her hand to her mouth, compressing the quivering line of her lips—not Gran!
The image of Elspeth Frazer floated before her eyes. Five feet nothing with rosy cheeks, startling blue eyes and snow-white hair, she could have come straight from the glossy illustrations in a book of fairy tales. The illusion of a cosy grandmother was shattered the instant Elspeth opened her mouth. The octogenarian had never suffered fools gladly and, not only did she have a bawdy sense of humour, she possessed a will of iron.
Elspeth had been a consultant paediatrician in the early fifties, when women consultants had been very few and far between. Rowena had left Holly to follow in Gran’s footsteps and become a doctor, but nonetheless Elspeth Frazer had been her own inspiration, the person she thought of when the going got tough. Rowena could never understand how a woman like her grandmother, who had fought so hard to get where she wanted, had turned her back on everything and buried herself in general practice in the back of beyond. She’d eventually asked.
‘Why, I saw your grandfather, my dear, and I loved him.’
Perplexed, a much younger Rowena had asked, ‘Well couldn’t he have come to live in the City?’
‘He could, but he’d have been unhappy.’
‘Well, I’d never do that for a man!’
‘We’ll see…’
Rowena heard the familiar soft accent in her head and her eyes filled with tears. She blinked back the moisture and forced herself to ask the thing she didn’t want to.
‘Is she…? Do they think…? Don’t cry, Holly, and don’t get too technical,’ she pleaded as her doctor sister began to go into details about the suspected stroke that their grandmother had suffered that morning.
She wasn’t aware that Quinn was beside her until she felt the warm imprint of his hand on her shoulder. No matter what the state of their personal relationship, she wasn’t about to reject his support. Rowena was proud, but not stupid—Quinn was the sort of man whom people automatically turned to in a crisis.
She made no objection as he slid a chair under her shaky legs and urged her gently down into it.
She held the receiver a little way from her ear. ‘She’s crying again.’ She gulped, raising tear-filled eyes to his face. ‘Holly never cries,’ she added, her own lower lip quivering madly.
‘Let me have it.’
Rowena relinquished the phone without a second thought. For once she didn’t resent Quinn’s air of calm authority.
‘Hello, Holly, sweetheart, it’s Quinn,’ she heard him say warmly to her sister. ‘Yes, I know, but…is Niall there? Good, put him on. Hi, Niall, it’s Quinn.’
Rowena, her head in her hands, could hear the male rumble as Holly’s fiancé responded at length. Quinn didn’t interrupt him. ‘Yes, I get the picture. It’ll be quicker if we fly up. Can you organise some transport from