A New Year Marriage Proposal (Harlequin Romance) (10 page)

Carissa’s expression said very clearly,
My point exactly
.

‘We survived Christmas,’ he said. ‘But not for much longer. I must’ve made some comment that made her think I was going to do something stupid, like suggest moving in together. She picked a fight with me, and then she told me that she was just using me to rebel against her parents because I was so different from her family and friends. And I’d been naive enough to think that although she’d started dating me because I was a geek, she’d grown to like me for who I was.’ He shrugged. ‘Learned that one the hard way.’

‘Quinn, you were twenty-one. Still a baby, really. You made a mistake, and that’s fine—that’s how you learn. But I think you took the wrong lessons away. Because you,’ Carissa said, ‘are worth much more than being someone’s rebellion.’

And Carissa was worth much more than being some City brat’s punchbag. Not that he was going to bring that up. He’d find a nicer way to tell her.

‘For the record,’ she said, ‘your background and your accent and the way you dress don’t matter. It’s who you are, how you treat other people and whether you have a good heart that counts.’

He wasn’t so sure that he had a good heart. Just a damaged one. Because after Tabitha he hadn’t wanted to risk getting hurt again—trying too hard and getting it wrong. He’d gone too far the other way, but he just couldn’t work out a middle ground. ‘A good heart,’ he repeated.

Her fingers tightened round his. ‘And it sounds to me as if Ms High Maintenance didn’t have one.’

‘Maybe,’ he said. Or maybe just not the right one for him.

‘You fit in around here,’ she pointed out.

He’d noticed that people raised a hand to him across the courtyard, or nodded to him from their cars. Though Carissa was the only one who’d gone further than that. And, given what she did with Project Sparkle, he thought she might have a habit of taking in waifs and strays. Was he part of that?

‘The house...it’s a safe house,’ she said suddenly, surprising him.

She had his full attention now. ‘For people trying to leave a violent home, you mean?’

She nodded. ‘Women and children.’

Had she used the safe house when she’d left Justin?

He didn’t want to make her feel bad by asking.

But he remembered that when she’d talked about it, she’d said something about making amends for not taking her ex to court. This was obviously what she meant. Being involved with a safe house.

And now he knew why she wanted him to bring a female colleague. So the people in the safe house continued feeling safe.

‘I do have a female colleague I can ask to do the survey with me,’ he said. ‘Are you sure people wouldn’t mind me being there?’

‘It’s fine—because you’ll be there with me.’

So did that mean she trusted him?

Or maybe she trusted him as much as she dared to trust anyone outside her immediate family.

‘Do you volunteer there?’ he asked softly.

‘Sort of,’ she said. ‘Although my day job’s mainly in contract law, I know enough about family law to help sort out injunctions when they’re needed.’

And he’d just bet she didn’t charge a penny for her work either. That would be her way of making amends for not taking Justin to court.

‘That’s good,’ he said softly.

She was still holding his hand.

He brought her fingers up to his mouth and kissed each knuckle in turn. ‘You have a good heart.’

‘I have a good family. I learned from them.’

It would be easy to let her draw him into talking about his family. But he’d already gone far enough for now, talking about Tabitha. He didn’t want to dump the rest of his baggage on her. ‘That’s good,’ he said, meaning it. ‘I’ll talk to my colleague tomorrow.’

‘Thank you,’ she said quietly. ‘And I’m not asking for a freebie. I’ll pay the going rate.’

‘Payback?’ he asked softly.

‘What goes around comes around. I was lucky. I had people there for me. Not everyone’s that fortunate.’ She looked away. ‘And I guess I’d better head for home. I’m due in the office tomorrow, and you’re busy.’

‘Yeah.’ Work was his favourite excuse. But he was beginning to rethink it.

‘I loved the peacock. And the movie. Thank you.’ She dropped a swift kiss on the corner of his mouth. ‘I’ll talk to you later.’

He nearly asked her to stay.

Nearly.

But he didn’t think either of them was quite ready for that.

‘Later,’ he said, and walked her back to her front door. Just because he was a little bit old-fashioned and it made him feel happier to know she was home safely. And she clearly knew it, because she let him walk her home.

‘Goodnight, Quinn,’ she said softly.

‘Goodnight, Carissa. Sweet dreams.’ And he knew his own would be sweet. Because they’d be of her.

CHAPTER NINE

‘T
HANK
YOU
,
’ C
ARISSA
said in the car on the way back to Grove End Mews from the safe house.

Quinn shrugged. ‘You asked me to bring a female colleague to help with the survey. Mara’s good at her job. She pays attention to detail.’

Like Carissa herself. But Quinn had been really, really quiet ever since they’d visited the refuge.

‘I’m not trying to pry,’ she said. ‘I’m just trying to apologise in case I’ve trodden on a sore spot.’

He frowned. ‘How do you mean?’

‘If you knew someone who...’ Her voice trailed off. There wasn’t a tactful way to phrase it.

‘Are you asking me if I’ve been in a safe house before?’

‘Um—yes,’ she admitted.

‘No,’ he said. ‘I haven’t.’

‘OK.’ She needed to learn to shut up. Saying too much had always been the quickest way to make Justin’s temper boil over.

As if he’d heard a wobble in her voice and guessed what was behind it, Quinn reached over and squeezed her hand. ‘I’m not saying much because I found that place a bit—well—shocking. Seeing the fear in the eyes of the women and children. Worse still, the way they masked that fear so quickly, as if showing fear would make someone attack them.’ He blew out a breath. ‘Was that what it was like for you?’

She had to swallow hard because of the lump in her throat. ‘Yes.’

‘Right now,’ he said, ‘I feel utterly ashamed of my gender.’

‘That’s not fair. You’re not like Justin. You’re not like the men who hit women.’

‘I hope not.’

That sounded heartfelt. She could understand why he felt so bad. It wasn’t nice, facing up to the dark side of other people. Right now, she thought he needed something to make him feel better. And she knew just the thing. ‘Quinn—can we do something tonight? Something nice? I know you hate Christmas, but...’

‘If it’s something that makes me feel clean again, then yes,’ he said. ‘Even if it’s one of your spurious proofs of a magic we both know doesn’t exist.’

Clean
.

A vision of him flashed into her mind. In the shower. With her.

Oh, help.

And what she’d just said sounded tantamount to asking him out on a date.

She wouldn’t be surprised if he backed away.

And yet he’d said yes. He wanted to do something nice with her.

‘OK,’ she said. ‘I just need to check some times.’ Even though she knew she was being a bit of a coward, using her phone as a barrier to keep a little distance between them.

When he parked outside his house, she climbed out of the car. ‘I’ll see you at mine, at six-thirty?’

‘Sure.’

‘And thanks again, Quinn. And I want you to bill me for all the work you and Mara do. All the equipment, too.’

‘Uh-huh,’ he said.

Carissa spent the rest of the day working on Project Sparkle ideas, grabbed a quick sandwich, then changed into slightly smarter clothing that was more appropriate for what they were doing that evening.

But Quinn wasn’t there at six-thirty. Or ten minutes later.

She’d already worked out that Quinn was punctual. So had he changed his mind?

Just to check, she texted him.
Still on for a Magic of Christmas thing?

Thirty seconds later, her phone rang. ‘Carissa, I’m so sorry,’ Quinn said. ‘I completely lost track of time.’

Then she felt guilty. He was busy at work, and she’d already taken up quite enough of his time today on the surveillance project for the refuge. ‘Look—we don’t have to do this.’

‘Yes, we do. Give me five minutes to save my file and sort a couple of things out,’ he said.

It was more like fifteen, but at least he turned up. Odd how much that warmed her.

‘So what are we doing?’ he asked.

‘I’m having a bit of a panic now,’ she said, ‘because now I’ve thought about it I realise you’re probably going to hate it—but it’s something that always makes me feel better.’

‘As long as it doesn’t involve more Z-list celebs switching on lights, that’s fine,’ he said. Though the smile most definitely reached his eyes.

‘We’re walking,’ she said. ‘Though we might not get a seat.’

She took him through Grove End Park to St Mary’s, a gothic-looking church made from sand-coloured stone. Inside were cream-painted soaring arches, dark wooden pews, Victorian stained glass and a pale marble floor. Instead of having the electric chandeliers blazing out, the church was lit by tiny tealight candles placed on the little ledge on the back of each pew. There was a tall Christmas tree next to the pulpit, decked out with what looked like decorations made especially by the children in the local nursery schools, with a silver star at the top. The sharp, clean scent of the fir tree filled the church. The benches for the choir were full, with the adult members at the back, all dressed in turquoise robes, and the children standing at the front, wearing white chorister robes.

Because Carissa and Quinn had arrived only just in time for the start of the service, they had to stand at the back rather than sit in the pews, but she didn’t mind. It was the atmosphere she’d wanted. Calm and sweet and full of love.

‘A carol service?’ Quinn whispered.

‘Yes. I always used to do this with my parents,’ she said. ‘Don’t worry. You don’t have to sing if you don’t want to.’

Though she sang along with her favourite carols, ‘The Angel Gabriel’ and ‘Joy to the World’. As always, the children singing ‘Away in a Manger’ on their own, and then the child singing a solo in ‘Once in Royal David’s City’, brought tears to her eyes. Just as she blinked the tears back she felt Quinn’s fingers twine with hers. Had it touched him, too? She didn’t quite dare to look at him.

Afterwards, they filed out of the church. Quinn was still holding her hand.

‘Let’s not go back just yet,’ Quinn said. ‘Is there anywhere around here that does hot chocolate?’

‘With marshmallows on the top,’ she said. ‘There is indeed.’

She took him to the small café nearby, where they ordered hot chocolate and mince pies.

‘I can’t remember the last time I went to a carol service,’ Quinn said. ‘Probably not since I was at infant school.’

‘Sorry,’ she said. ‘I should have said what I had in mind and given you the chance to say no.’

‘I probably would have done,’ he admitted, ‘but I’m glad you took me.’

Something in his expression stopped her from teasing him about finally seeing the magic of Christmas. This was too important. A breakthrough. Quinn actually trusting her. Given that he’d had his heart stomped on by someone who’d been using him, she could understand why he was so wary of relationships. The fact that he seemed less guarded with her now...that was a good thing. ‘I love the candlelit service,’ she said. ‘It makes me feel connected to centuries of history, people doing the same thing every single year at this time.’

He nodded. ‘And it made me feel clean again. Thank you.’

She reached across the table and squeezed his hand. ‘Me, too—sometimes life can be a bit dark, but there’s still a lot of good stuff out there.’

He didn’t pull away, so she carried on holding his hand across the table.

This wasn’t officially a date—but it was definitely starting to feel like one.

‘You have a lovely voice,’ he said.

She smiled. ‘Thanks, but I’m not up to Dad’s standard.’

‘You were in tune and in time when you were singing the carols—not everyone in the congregation was,’ he pointed out.

‘But they don’t have to be,’ she said. ‘It’s about sharing. Being together.’

‘I guess.’ This time he did pull his hand away.

Carissa had no idea what sore spot she’d clearly just trampled on—something else Tabitha had done to hurt him? But she knew that if she asked he wouldn’t tell her, so instead she took refuge in her hot chocolate and mince pie.

‘So what’s the current Sparkle project?’ he asked. ‘Apart from the virtual Santa?’

‘Christmas for the safe house,’ she said. ‘Nothing big and flashy, because they’ve already had so much to deal with—I don’t want to overwhelm anyone or make it look as if I’m trying to buy them happiness. I just want to give them some space to start rebuilding their lives and give them a bit of fun, so they have some good moments to help them deal with the hard stuff.’

‘Do you need another virtual Santa?’

She shook her head. ‘Anna, who runs the place, has given me some ideas about what everyone would like.

‘Well, if you need a hand wrapping stuff,’ he said, ‘you know where I am.’

She smiled at him. ‘I might take you up on that.’

When they’d finished their hot chocolate they walked home through the park. Halfway home, Quinn slid his arm round Carissa’s shoulders, and she slid her arm round his waist.

There was frost glittering on the ground, and Christmas lights in the windows of houses overlooking the park. What with that, the carol service and the hot chocolate, the evening was just perfect, she thought.

At least this time the silence between them was relaxed rather than awkward. Though she still didn’t know where this thing between them was going. Clearly there were similarities between her and his high-maintenance ex that made him wary, and she was still trying to get her trust back after Justin, but if they kept it slow and steady, like this, maybe they’d manage to work it out without reopening their scars.

* * *

There was one last thing that would make him feel a lot better, Quinn thought. So he made an appointment to see Justin Vaughan. It was possibly a bit mean of him to make it sound as if it was a headhunting opportunity when it was nothing of the sort, but if he told Vaughan the real reason he wanted to talk then he knew that the other man wouldn’t turn up.

Vaughan came breezing into the café at the time they’d arranged, all urbane and charming. He looked around, clearly trying to work out which of the other customers was Quinn.

Quinn had just about resisted the temptation to say that he’d be the man with a carnation in his buttonhole and carrying a copy of the
Financial Times
; as he was the ‘headhunter’, it was obvious that he’d know what Vaughan looked like.

He raised his hand, and Vaughan came over—like an over-eager puppy, except Quinn rather thought that Vaughan was the type of man who’d kick an over-eager puppy who got in his way.

‘Mr O’Neill?’ Vaughan asked.

‘Yes.’ He didn’t take up Vaughan’s offer to shake his hand. ‘Shall we take a walk in the park for our talk?’

‘Ah, confidentiality,’ Vaughan said.

Yes, but not in the way Vaughan was thinking. Quinn inclined his head.

He said nothing until they’d crossed the road and were in the middle of the park. Just as he’d expected, Vaughan was the one to crack.

‘So—you have a job opportunity?’ Vaughan asked.

‘An opportunity,’ Quinn said carefully.

‘What sort of opportunity?’

Quinn stopped and looked Vaughan straight in the eye. ‘An opportunity,’ he said, ‘to make some amends.’

‘Amends?’ Vaughan frowned. ‘I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about.’

‘Breaking a woman’s arm,’ Quinn said, ‘and not letting her go to the hospital because you knew people would ask questions and the truth would come out.’

Vaughan went white. ‘I don’t know what you mean.’

‘Oh, I rather think you do,’ Quinn said softly.

‘Who are you? Why are you here?’

‘You already know my name. I’m here because of what happened to Carissa. I can’t stand by and know that’s going to happen to someone else because you can’t control your temper.’

‘She’s lying,’ Vaughan blustered.

Quinn raised an eyebrow. ‘And you’d be prepared to take an official lie-detector test on that subject, would you?’

‘You can’t do that.’

‘Not personally—but I work with agencies that can.’ Quinn smiled thinly. ‘And I can assure you that their evidence would stand up in court.’

‘What do you want from me?’

‘I want you to get some proper counselling,’ Quinn said. ‘So you learn to deal with whatever it is that makes you hit women, and so that you never even raise your voice in anger to a woman or a child again, let alone hurt them.’

Vaughan lifted his chin in a show of bravado. ‘And if I don’t?’

It wasn’t much of a threat. Quinn could tell that Vaughan was the type who only hit people who couldn’t hit back. Quinn was taller, slightly broader, and definitely fitter. Vaughan wouldn’t take the risk that he’d come off substantially worse in a fight.

Quinn stared at him. ‘I could break every single bone in your body,’ he said softly—and calmly enough to make sure that Vaughan realised it wasn’t an empty threat, ‘but violence doesn’t actually solve problems. You’ll still be a man who hits vulnerable people. All that would happen is that you’d be temporarily incapacitated. That’s not enough.’

‘Are you threatening me?’

‘No. I’m just telling you that if you hit someone again I’ll make sure that the evidence lands on important desks. I don’t think your employer would be too keen to have their name associated with a court case. Plus you’d be looking at a prison sentence for actual bodily harm—and I believe they don’t take too kindly in prison to men who hit women and children.’

‘She wouldn’t take me to court,’ Vaughan said, relieved. ‘She won’t want her name in the press. She won’t want to embarrass her family.’

‘But her family,’ Quinn said softly, ‘loves her to bits. And they’ll back her all the way. Blackmail isn’t nice.’

‘Isn’t that what you’re doing to me?’ Vaughan asked.

‘No. I’m giving you the choice of sorting yourself out, so the people in your life don’t have to spend their lives terrified that they’ll say the wrong thing and you’ll lash out and hurt them. You can choose to do that; or you can choose to face the legal consequences of your behaviour. Simple, really. All you have to do is the right thing.’

Vaughan just stared at him.

‘And I’ll know if you don’t,’ Quinn added. ‘Because I’ll be watching you.’

It wasn’t an empty threat. And Vaughan clearly recognised that, because he gave a defeated nod.

‘Good.’ Quinn paused. ‘Merry Christmas.’

And he walked away, feeling much lighter in spirit. Justin Vaughan was a bully and a coward—but he’d be too afraid of losing his job or ending up in prison to carry on as he was. He’d get help. And what had happened to Carissa wouldn’t happen to anyone else.