Terms of Engagement

Three

When Kira woke up naked in bed with Quinn, she felt unsettled and very self-conscious. Propping herself on an elbow, she watched him warily in the dim rosy half light of dawn. All her doubts returned a hundredfold.

How could she have let things go this far? How could she have risked pregnancy?

What if… No, she couldn’t be that unlucky.

Besides, it did no good to regret what had happened, she reminded herself again. If she hadn’t slept with him she would never have known such ecstasy was possible.

Now, at least, she knew. Even if it wasn’t love, it had been so great she felt an immense tenderness well up in her in spite of her renewed doubts.

He was absurdly handsome with his thick, unruly black hair falling across his brow, with his sharp cheekbones and sculpted mouth. She’d been touched when he’d shown her his vulnerability last night. Just looking at him now was enough to make her stomach flutter with fresh desire.

She was about to stroke his hair, when, without warning, his obscenely long lashes snapped open, and he met her gaze with that directness that still startled her. Maybe because there were so many imperfections she wanted to keep hidden. In the next instant, his expression softened, disarming her.

“Good morning, darlin’.” His rough, to-die-for, sexy baritone caressed her.

A jolt sizzled through her even before he reached out a bronzed hand to pull her face to his so he could kiss her lightly on the lips. Never had she wanted anyone as much as she wanted him.

“I haven’t brushed my teeth,” she warned.

“Neither the hell have I. I don’t expect you to be perfect. I simply want you. I can’t do without you. You should know that after last night.”

She was amazed because she felt exactly the same. Still, with those doubts still lingering, she felt she had to protect herself by protesting.

“Last night was probably a mistake,” she murmured.

“Maybe. Or maybe it’s a complication, a challenge. Or a good thing. In any case, it’s too late to worry about it. I want you more now than ever.”

“But for how long?”

“Is anything certain?”

He kissed her hard. Before she could protest again, he rolled on top of her and was inside her, claiming her fiercely, his body piercing her to the bed, his massive erection filling her. When he rode her violently, she bucked like a wild thing, too, her doubts dissolving like mist as primal desire swept her past reason.

“I’m sorry,” he said afterward. “I wanted you too much.”


He had, however, at the last second, remembered to use a condom. This time, he didn’t hold her tenderly or make small talk or confide sweet nothings as he had last night. In fact, he seemed hellishly annoyed at himself.

Was he already tired of her? Would there be a new blonde in his bed tonight? At the thought, a sob caught in her throat.

“You can have the master bathroom. I’ll make coffee,” he said tersely.

Just like that, he wanted her gone. Since she’d researched him and had known his habits, she shouldn’t feel shocked or hurt. Hadn’t he warned her he was incapable of feeling close to anyone? She should be grateful for the sublime sexual experience and let the rest go.

Well, she had her pride. She wasn’t about to cling to him or show that she cared. But she did care. Oh, how she cared. Her family’s worst enemy had quickly gained a curious hold on her heart.

Without a word, she rose and walked naked across the vast expanse of thick, white carpet, every female cell vividly aware that, bored with her though he might be, he didn’t tear his eyes from her until she reached the bathroom and shut the door. Once inside she turned the lock and leaned heavily against the wall in a state of collapse.

She took a deep breath and stared at her pale, guilt-stricken reflection, so different from the glowing wanton of last night.

She’d known the kind of guy he was, in spite of his seductive words. How could she have opened herself to such a hard man? Her father’s implacable enemy?

What had she done?



By the time she’d showered, brushed her hair and dressed, he was in the kitchen, looking no worse for wear. Indeed, he seemed energized by what they had shared. Freshly showered, he wore a white shirt and crisply pressed dark slacks. He’d shaved, and his glossy black hair was combed. He looked so civilized, she felt the crazy urge to run her hands through his hair, just to muss it up and leave her mark.

The television was on, and he was watching the latest stock market report while he held his cell phone against his ear. Behind him, a freshly made pot of aromatic coffee sat on the gleaming white counter.

She was about to step inside when he flicked the remote, killing the sound of the television. She heard his voice, as sharp and hard as it had been with the caller yesterday in his office.

“Habib, business is business,” he snapped. “I know I have to convince the shareholders and the public I’m some shining white knight. That’s why I agreed to marry a Murray daughter and why her parents, especially her father, who wants an easy transition of power, suggested Jacinda and persuaded her to accept me. However, if the older Murray sister agrees to marry me instead, why should it matter to you or to anyone else…other than to Jacinda, who will no doubt be delighted to have her life back?”

Habib, whoever he was, must have argued, because Quinn’s next response was much angrier. “Yes, I know the family history and why you consider Jacinda the preferable choice, but since nobody else knows, apparently not even Kira, it’s of no consequence. So, if I’ve decided to marry the older sister instead of the younger, and this decision will make the shareholders and employees just as happy, why the hell should you care?”

The man must have countered again, because Quinn’s low tone was even more cutting. “No, I haven’t asked her yet. It’s too soon. But when I do, I’ll remind her that I told her yesterday I’d demand a price for freeing her sister. She’ll have to pay it, that’s all. She’ll have no choice but to do what’s best for her family and her sister. Hell, she’ll do anything for their approval.”

One sister or the other—and he didn’t care which one. That he could speak of marrying her instead of Jaycee as a cold business deal before he’d even bothered to propose made Kira’s tender heart swell with hurt and outrage. That he would use her desire for her family’s love and acceptance to his own advantage was too horrible to endure.

Obviously, she was that insignificant to him. But hadn’t she known that? So why did it hurt so much?

He’d said she was special. Nobody had ever made her feel so cherished before.

Thinking herself a needy, romantic fool, she shut her eyes. Unready to face him or confess what she’d overheard and how much it bothered her, Kira backed out of the kitchen and returned to the bedroom. In her present state she was incapable of acting rationally and simply demanding an explanation.

He was a planner. Her seduction must have been a calculated move. No longer could she believe he’d been swept off his feet by her as she had by him. She was skinny and plain. He’d known she desired him, and he was using that to manipulate her.

Last night, when he’d promised he’d break it off with her sister, she’d never guessed the devious manner in which he’d planned to honor that promise.

She was still struggling to process everything she’d learned, when Quinn himself strode into the bedroom looking much too arrogant, masterful and self-satisfied for her liking.

“Good, you’re dressed,” he said in that beautiful voice. “You look gorgeous.”

Refusing to meet the warmth of his admiring gaze for fear she might believe his compliment and thereby lose her determination to escape him, she nodded.

“I made coffee.”

“Smells good,” she whispered, staring out the window.

“Do you have time for breakfast?”

“No!”

“Something wrong?”

If he was dishonest, why should she bother to be straight with him? “I’m fine,” she said, but in a softer tone.

“Right. That must be why you seem so cool.”

“Indeed?”

“And they say men are the ones who withdraw the morning after.”

She bit her lip to keep herself from screaming at him.

“Still, I understand,” he said.

“Last night is going to take some getting used to,” she said.

“For me, as well.”

To that she said nothing.

“Well, the coffee’s in the kitchen,” he said, turning away.

Preferring to part from him without an argument, she followed him into the kitchen where he poured her a steaming cup and handed it to her.

“Do you take cream? Sugar?”

She shook her head. “We don’t know the most basic things about each other, do we?”

“After last night, I’d have to disagree with you, darlin’.”

She blushed in confusion. “Don’t call me that.”

He eyed her thoughtfully. “You really do seem upset.”

She sipped from her cup, again choosing silence instead of arguing the point. Was he good at everything? Rich and strong, the coffee was to die for.

“For the record, I take mine black, very black,” he said. “Without sugar. So, we have that in common. And we have what we shared last night.”

“Don’t…”

“I’d say we’re off to a great start.”

Until I realized what you were up to, I would have agreed. She longed to claw him. Instead, she clenched her nails into her palms and chewed her lower lip mutinously.

The rosy glow from last night, when he’d made her feel so special, had faded. She felt awkward and unsure…and hurt, which was ridiculous because she’d gone into this knowing who and what he was.

Obviously, last night had been business as usual for him. Why not marry the Murray sister who’d practically thrown herself at him? Did he believe she was so smitten and desperate for affection she’d be more easily controlled?

Why had she let herself be swept away by his looks, his confidences and his suave, expert lovemaking?

Because, your stupid crush on him turned your brain to mush.

And turned her raging hormones to fire. Never had she felt so physically and spiritually in tune with anyone. She’d actually thought, at one point, that they could be soul mates.

Soul mates! It was all an illusion. You were a fool, girl, and not for the first time.

“Look, I’d really better go,” she said, her tone so sharp his dark head jerked toward her.

“Right. Then I’ll drive you, since you left your car downtown.”

“I can call a cab.”

“No! I’ll drive you.”

Silently, she nodded.

He led the way to stairs that went down to the elevator and garage. In silence, they sped along the freeway in his silver Aston Martin until he slowed to take the off-ramp that led to where she’d parked downtown. After that, she had to speak to him in order to direct him to her small, dusty Toyota with several dings in its beige body. She let out a little moan when he pulled up behind her car and she saw the parking ticket flapping under her windshield wipers.

He got out and raced around the hood to open her door, but before he could, she’d flung it open.

“You sure there isn’t something wrong?” he asked.

She snatched the ticket, but before she could get in her car, he slid his arms around her waist from behind.

He felt so solid and strong and warm, she barely suppressed a sigh. She yearned to stay in his arms even though she knew she needed to get away from him as quickly as possible to regroup.

He turned her to face him and his fingertips traced the length of her cheek in a tender, burning caress, and for a long second he stared into her troubled eyes with a mixture of concern and barely suppressed impatience. He seemed to care.


Liar.

“It’s not easy letting you go,” he said.

“People are watching us,” she said mildly, even as she seethed with outrage.

“So what? Last night was very special to me, Kira. I’m sorry if you’re upset about it. I hope it’s just that it all happened too fast. I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

The concern in his voice shook her. “No.” She looked away, too tempted to meet his gaze.

“It’s never been like that for me. I…I couldn’t control myself, especially this morning. I wanted you again…badly. This is all happening too fast for me, too. I prefer being able to plan.”

That’s not what he’d said on the phone. Quinn seemed to have damn sure had a plan. Marry a Murray daughter. And he was sticking to it.

“Yes, it is happening…too fast.” She bit her lip. “But…I’m okay.” She wanted to brush off his words, to pretend she didn’t care that he’d apologized and seemed genuinely worried about her physical and emotional state. He seemed all too likable. She almost believed him.

“Do you have a business card?” he asked gently.

She shook her head. “Nope. At least, not on me.”

He flipped a card out of his pocket. “Well, here is mine. You can call me anytime. I want to see you again…as soon as possible. There’s something very important I want to discuss with you.”

The intensity of his gaze made her heart speed up. “You are not going back on your word about marrying Jaycee, are you?”

“How can you even ask? I’ll call it off as soon as I leave you. Unfortunately, after that, I have to be away on business for several days, first to New York, then London. Murray Oil is in the middle of negotiating a big deal with the European union    . My meeting tonight in New York ends at eight, so call me after that. On my cell.”

Did he intend to propose over the phone? Her throat felt thick as she forced herself to nod. Whipping out a pen and a pad, she wrote down her cell phone number. “Will you text me as soon as you break up with my sister?”

“Can I take that to mean you care about me…a little?” he asked.

“Sure,” she whispered, exhaling a pent-up breath. How did he lie so easily? “Take it any way you like.”

She had to get away from him, to be alone to think. Everything he said, everything he did, made her want him—even though she knew, after what she’d heard this morning, that she’d never been anything but a pawn in the game he was playing to exact revenge against her father.

She wasn’t special to him. And if she didn’t stand up for herself now, she never would be.

She would not let her father sell Jaycee or her to this man!