Bailey's Irish Dream (11 page)

Mustache turned his attention back to Quinn.  “Is this your house?”

“Yes,” he lied.  On second thought, he wasn’t going to jail if he didn’t have to.  Better to be a liar.

After a considerable amount of persuasion they’d managed to convince the police that the whole thing had been a terrible mistake, and the officers finally left.

“Can I play with your computer, Uncle Stanley?” Dillon asked, moving toward the study.

Quinn followed behind the boy.  “Sorry, but I forgot my password, so you won’t be able to get--”

Before he’d had a chance to finish his statement, Dillon’s fingers tapped the keys and the computer came to life.

“It’s Bailey,” the boy said.

“What?”

“Your password . . . it’s Bailey.”

“Right.”  Quinn left him be and went in search of Doyle and Mark, finding them in the kitchen.  Mark stood, nursing a beer, resting his hip against the round oak table.

“Help yourself,” Quinn said sarcastically.

“Do you two have any idea what the punishment is for breaking and entering?” Mark admonished.  “I’m a lawyer, for God’s sake.  I could be disbarred for aiding and abetting felons.”  He shifted his eyes from one man to the other, looking sternly.  “Now, who’s house is this?”

“Stanley Davenport’s,” Quinn answered honestly, unless Bailey had been lying about that too.

Mark rolled his eyes, his expression clouding in anger.

“Only I’m not Stanley Davenport.”  The confession felt good, a cleansing of the soul.  “My name is Quinn.”

Mark looked at him, his mouth wide open.  “Maybe somebody had better tell me what’s going on.”

And so Quinn did.  Again he left out the part about kissing, touching and almost making love to Bailey.

Mark dropped into a kitchen chair and rubbed a hand at the back of his neck.  “So, did you find any diamonds?”

“No,” Quinn said, “but Davenport was in South Africa twice this year.”

“That doesn’t make him guilty of smuggling,” Mark responded, the lawyer coming out in him.  

“Look,” Quinn said, opening the refrigerator and helping himself to a beer.  “This guy is not lily white.  We already know he took a bribe from your father-in-law.  So who knows what else he’s capable of doing.”

“I realize that, but he’s innocent unless we can prove otherwise.  In the meantime, those thugs might come sniffing around again.  I don’t like the idea that they threatened Bailey.”

“And you think I do?” Quinn snapped, feeling territorial all of a sudden.  After a few moments he got his temper under control, and took a sip of beer.  “Work with me here.  I don’t want Bailey left alone for a minute.  But I’ve got a bar to run.  I can’t just drop everything to start chasing bad guys.”

“You don’t have to ask.  Dad and I’ll watch Bailey.”

With an odd twinge of guilt, he said, “I didn’t mean to dump her on you.  I plan to stick to her like glue myself.  I just want to make sure you guys will back me up.”

“Ow!”  Dillon’s voice exploded, and the three men took of
f in the direction of the boy’s scream.  They found him in the living room, standing in front of the aquarium, holding his hand.  “That fish bit me,” he started.

Quinn read the sign on the glass.  “I bite,” it said.  He  peered into the large tank at the lone gray fish gliding through the water.  Multi-colored glass beads decorated the bottom and a plastic treasure chest sat in the corner.  “It looks like a baby piranha.”

Mark grasped Dillon’s hand.  “Let me see.”

“I’m all right.  He just nipped me.  He looked so nice, I didn’t think he’d really bite.  What’s his name, Uncle Stanley?”

“Uh, Chompers.” 

Dillon laughed.

By now, the lies seemed to roll right off Quinn’s tongue with ease.

* * * * * * * * * *

Quinn decided to spend the night in Davenport’s house.  That way he’d be close enough to Bailey in case anyone came looking for trouble.  He figured she’d be safe enough in her own home, surrounded by her family.  Mark and Doyle could certainly keep an eye on her there.

He’d chosen one of the guest rooms in lieu of the master bedroom.  Quinn had no desire to sleep in Davenport’s bed.  Besides, the room was plastered with animal heads, looking as if they might start a stampede in the middle of the night.  No thanks.

Stripping down to his boxers, Quinn turned off the overhead light, pulled back the sheets and climbed into bed.  It was shortly after midnight, and he was exhausted.  Sleep should have come easy, but half an hour later he was still awake.  Worrying about Bailey.

Harry had said he and Shorty would be back Saturday for the diamonds.  And it was only Wednesday.  Surely they’d have no reason to come back before then. 

Wednesday.  He’d only known Bailey for two days, he thought, giving his head a shake.  At times it seemed as if he’d known her forever, and at other times he felt he didn’t know her at all.  Or at least not as well as he wanted to, thinking back to the fiasco on his recliner.  He’d wanted nothing more than to explore those soft curves of hers, and to touch her in places he hadn’t yet had a chance to explore.  Places he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about.  

What was he saying?  She was a pain in his butt.  It would do him well to remember that, before he had any more bright ideas about wanting to get to know her better.  Already she’d caused more trouble than she was worth.  The FBI had probably made a file on him that said CRACKPOT, DANGEROUS, APPROACH WITH CAUTION.  The police had treated him as if he were some deranged lunatic, although he was lucky he hadn’t been arrested.  And he had two shiners and a sore gut as a final reminder of his acquaintance with Bailey. 

Pain and suffering were the first things that came to mind when he thought about her.  And already, he’d had enough of both. 

Rolling onto his back, he folded his hands behind his neck and tried to relax. 
Breathe in.  Exhale.  Breathe in.  Exhale.
 
Breathe in.  Exhale.

It wasn’t working.  Maybe it was the safari wallpaper.  He felt as if he was lost in the jungle and it was slowly closing in on him.  He half expected an elephant to come charging through the walls at any minute. 

Quinn flipped over onto his side.  Maybe he should have stayed at Bailey’s.  He could have slept on her sofa. 
Oh, yeah.  The white sofa that didn’t look as if it had ever been sat on, let alone slept on.
 

A few moments later a creaking noise alerted him.  He sat straight up, keeping his eyes on the doorway.  Someone was in the hall.  Quinn crept from the bed, looking for a weapon, finally settling on his shoe.  Flattening himself against the wall, he waited.  And waited.  Until he saw an arm reach around the corner.  Time to make his move.

Bailey reached around the wall for a light switch, but someone grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her.   A scream erupted from her lungs, her heart pounding erratically. 

“Damnit, Bailey!” Quinn’s voice shot out in the dark.  Releasing her he flicked on the light.  “I could have killed you,” he said waving a white leather sneaker at her.

Bailey pushed her hair from her face.  “How many people have you killed with that shoe?”  Quinn clenched his mouth tight and tossed the shoe aside.  “How did you know it was me, anyway?” she asked.

“I know your scent.”  Her eyes widened.  “Your perfume,” he added, as if that somehow explained everything.  She hadn’t realized it was that strong.  Maybe she’d worn too much.  She sniffed the air delicately, unable to detect the faded aroma. 

He watched her intently, his eyes darkening dangerously.  Suddenly, she felt like a fool.  Tightening the belt on her white terrycloth robe, she dropped her eyes.  That was when she noticed he wasn’t wearing anything except a pair of powder blue boxer shorts.

Hastily, she raised her eyes and tried to forget his powerful, well-muscled, long, lean torso. 
Bare
torso.  And the dark, crisp hair that covered his chest and tapered to a V just above the waistband of his shorts.  Good God!  Was this what she’d been missing all these years?

“Do you want to tell me why you’re here?  You’re supposed to be next door where your father and brother-in-law can protect you if need be.”

Crossing her arms over her chest she gave him a look of defiance.  “I don’t need anyone to protect me.  I can take care of myself.”

The way he looked at her said he didn’t believe her.  Well, too bad.  What did he know?  She wasn’t afraid of those guys.  She’d simply tell them she didn’t know where the diamonds were and to get lost.  Maybe she’d buy a big dog too.  Something fearful with big, sharp teeth, like a Doberman.  And then if they still refused to leave, she’d offer them money--like she’d originally suggested Quinn do.  That most certainly would work.

Quinn picked up his jeans from the floor.  “So, why are you here?” he asked again.  “If it’s because you’ve been getting more of those urges you had earlier, I won’t bother to put my pants back on.”

Bailey wondered if he had any idea how irritating he was at times.  And that
ego
of his!  As if he were God’s gift to women.  “Never mind.  This was a stupid idea,” she said, and started to turn away.

Quinn grabbed her wrist, stopping her.  “Wait.  I’m sorry.  I shouldn’t have said that.”  Dropping her wrist, he stepped into his jeans, pulled them over his hips, and zipped up.  “I can’t sleep, and I’m a tad cranky.”

“A
tad
?” she mumbled, lowering herself to the bed.  As soon as she realized where she was sitting, she jumped to her feet. 

As if Quinn had read her mind, he took her by the shoulders and pushed her back down again.  “Sit down.  I’m not going to bite you,” he said, sitting next to her.  “Now, what was so important that you came over here in the middle of the night dressed in your pajamas?”  He raked his eyes over her.  “You
do
have pajamas on under there, don’t you?”

“Yes, of course I do,” she said, pulling the edges of her robe across the tops of her bare legs.  “I came over here to thank you for everything you did tonight.  I kept trying to get a minute alone with you, but with my family there . . .”  She shrugged.  “Anyway, the Fajitas were great.  And then you cleaned up all the mess too.  That wasn’t necessary.  I’d really like to repay you.”  She looked into his smoldering eyes.  “I didn’t mean like
that
,” she said quickly.

Quinn smirked.  “No, I didn’t think so,” he said, touching her hair.  “But it never hurts to be optimistic.”

He was teasing her.  Wasn’t he?  Bailey forced a smile.  “Well, that’s all I wanted to say.”  But when she went to stand, he pulled her down again, his arm coming around her shoulder. 

“Stay for a while.”  When her eyes widened, he chuckled, cocked his head to one side and said, “I was hoping you might know a good bedtime story.  I’m having trouble falling asleep in this jungle.” 

Bailey glanced at the busy wallpaper.  “It is a little much, isn’t it?”

“Yeah, you could say that.”  His hand slid down her arm and rib cage.  Finding her waist, he squeezed her affectionately. 

He’d showered and shaved recently.  His hair was still damp, slicked back away from his forehead.  Smelling like soap, he exuded masculinity.  Licking her lips, she carefully closed her robe again and twisted her fingers in her lap. 

With his free hand, he wrapped his fingers around hers, stilling them.  “What are you so nervous about?”

“I’m not,” she lied. 

He was too close.  Too potent.  And she didn’t trust herself around him, she thought, as she brought her mouth closer to his and took the plunge. 
Oh well, you only live once.

They both kept their eyes open during the first kiss.  After that, well, who could remember?  Hers were shut, that’s all she knew.  She felt transported on a soft, puffy cloud as he gently eased her down onto the bed.  Between parted lips, she whispered, “I should probably go.”

“Yes, you should,” he agreed, nibbling at her mouth, his hands fumbling with the belt to her robe.  Lowering his head, he left a trail of hot, wet kisses on her neck and shoulders.  Parting her robe, he smiled appreciatively at her white silky camisole top and matching boxer shorts.  “White.  I should have known.” 

Raising her top, he skimmed a hand along her flesh, his fingers seeking her breast and finding it.  “Your breasts are so beautiful.”  With tantalizing possessiveness, he touched his tongue to her nipple and watched her squirm restlessly.  “And so responsive to my touch.”  Taking her into his mouth deeply, he thoroughly laved and sucked before switching his attention to her other breast.

Her senses spiraled, and gasps of pleasure escaped her lips.  “Oh, Quinn,” she said on a sigh.  Her hands caressed the planes of his back, loving the feel of him.  She wanted more, so much more.  But she didn’t know how to ask.

As if he understood, his body moved to partially cover hers, her nipples tingling against his hair-roughened chest.  His erection pressed against her pelvis through the soft denim of his jeans.  He thrust against her.  Once, twice.  And then he slid downward, his tongue weaving a path toward her navel and lower.  With his help, her silk shorts magically fell away from her body, leaving her exposed and vulnerable to his appreciative gaze.

Dropping to the floor on his knees, he spoke softly.  “You’re more beautiful than I ever imagined.” 

His fingers teased her, exploring her most private area, until she thought she’d die.  “Quinn, please,” she begged. 

He held her wrists at her sides, imprisoning her.  “Shhhh.  I’m going to make it all better now,” he said, lowering his mouth to place a gentle kiss in the center of her being.

“Omigod!”  Her hips arched off the bed, her hands grabbing at the crisp white sheets, pulling, tugging.  She’d never felt anything so erotic. 

She heard him breathe deeply and exhale slowly.  “I love the way you smell,” he whispered.  “Now, I want to taste you.”  With his tongue, he teased her, plied her, wielded her to him.  Her body felt like warm, soft putty, her legs opening wide, inviting him in.  His tongue delved deeper and deeper, until a hot fire spread within, clouding her brain and sending her over the edge in ecstasy. 

“Oh, God, Quinn!” she breathed, completely, and deliciously, spent. 

Still he continued to drink from her, refusing to relent.  “One more time, Bailey.  Come for me, once more.” 

Her body began to vibrate with liquid fire as a second orgasm burst from her and she screamed his name with delight.  As soon as the flames began to ebb, Quinn joined her on the bed, cradling her head in the crook of his neck and shoulder.  Tears sprang to her eyes, and she started to tremble.  She’d never felt like this before.

Tilting her chin back, he looked at her.  “Are you okay?”

She nodded, hiding her face in the warmth of his neck and breathing in the clean smell of him.

“Then, why are you crying?”

“I’m not,” she said on a sob, her body convulsing of its own free will. 

“Don’t lie, Bailey.  Look at me.”

Sniffing back a tear, she slowly raised her head.  He was so beautiful.  The concern in his eyes, on his face.  She lowered her mouth and kissed his chin.  And at that moment, she knew she’d fallen in love with him. 

It wasn’t the same kind of love she’d felt before.  This was different.  Special.  Not affection, or infatuation.  But deep, true, everlasting love, if there really was such a thing.  She felt it deep in her soul.  And she knew she could never resist this man anything.

But something happened to Quinn when he looked at her.  Something that had him springing to his feet.  He massaged the back of his neck, pacing the bedroom floor, refusing to look at her.  “Bailey, I’m sorry.  What happened between us . . .”  He paused, then said, “That should never have happened.”

“It’s okay.  I’m not crying because I regret what happened.  I’m crying because I’m happy.”

He glanced her way.  “Happy?” he asked, narrowing his eyes.  “Well, yeah, I guess you should be happy.  If you like being taken advantage of.”  There was an edge to his voice.  “Look, I’m trying very hard to control myself here.  And with you, uh . . .”  He gestured toward her.  “Could you get dressed, please?”

“Why?” she asked, suddenly confused.  “Aren’t we going to make love?”

His whole body went rigid.  “Jesus, Bailey.  You’re a virgin!”  He glanced up at the ceiling, ran his hands through his hair.  “God, what was I thinking?  I had no business doing what I just did.  Now,
please
,” he stressed, “put your . . . bottoms on, and I’ll walk you home.”

“Maybe I don’t want to go home.  Maybe I want to spend the night.  With you.”

Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath, his face growing taut with tension.  He opened his eyes, took one look at her and shook his head.  “You don’t know what you’re saying.  You can’t stay here.  You know what would happen if you stayed here.” 

Bailey stood, went to him and draped her arms around his waist.  “Of course, I know what will happen.  I’m not a child, Quinn.  And it’s okay.  I want to make love with you.”  His body stiffened in response.  Lifting her head, she said, “I love you.”

He dislodged her arms from his sides, and moved away from her, as if she’d just told him she had some contagious disease.  “You don’t know what you’re saying.  What happened had nothing to do with love.  I gave you an orgasm.  That’s all.”

“Two,” she said, feeling as though she’d been slapped.  Quickly she belted her robe and turned away from him, hearing his breath expel behind her. 

“Okay, two,” he murmured.  “Look, Bailey, forgive me for saying so, but I’m not the first guy you’ve claimed to have fallen in love with.”

Spinning on her heel, she lifted her chin, ignoring the tears blinding her eyes and choking her voice.  “So, I don’t know my own heart.  Is that what you’re trying to say?”

“Well, yeah,” he said, seemingly unmoved by her emotions.  “That’s exactly what I’m trying to say.”

She listened with rising dismay, a flash of wild grief ripping through her.  But it wasn’t the words he’d spoken that tore at her heart.  It was the fact that he didn’t love her.  Feeling humiliated and angry with herself, she refused to back down.  Holding her head high, she looked him square in the eye and laughed. 

Quinn frowned.  “What’s so funny?”

“You,” she said accusingly.  “You didn’t actually think I was serious, did you?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact, I did.”

She waved a hand at him.  “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Quinn!  For a man who’s obviously been around the block a few times, you certainly are gullible.” 

He narrowed his eyes at her, rocked back on his heels, and looked at her intently.  “Uh, huh.”

“Stop flattering yourself.  It’s just an expression.  It doesn’t mean anything.  Haven’t you ever said it at the heat of the moment, and not really meant it?”

“Maybe.  But the heat of the moment was long gone when
you
said it.”

“Yes, well.  I’m new at this.  Remember?”  Shrugging, she said, “It was just an orgasm.  Get over it.  I have.”

“It was two orgasms.”  He moved toward her, touched her hair, gazed into her eyes.  “And you’re a liar, Bailey.”  With that he stormed out of the bedroom without a backward glance. 

Bailey sank onto the bed.  He was right.  She was a liar.  With a shiver of vivid recollection, she thought of what had just happened.  The way he’d held her trembling body afterward, the way he’d looked at her with concern and tenderness.  And then she’d gone and ruined everything.  Swallowing hard, she bit back the threatening tears, feeling an acute sense of loss.

Hugging her arms around her, she closed her eyes and rocked gently back and forth until she got herself under control.  Reaching for her silk boxers, she slipped them on, left the room and, hopefully, the sweet memories behind.

* * * * * * * * * *

Quinn waited for Bailey at the bottom of the steps.  She refused to look at him as she brushed past him.  Which was fine.  He didn’t want to look at her either.  That was the reason he hadn’t bothered to turn on any lights downstairs.  With the glow of the aquarium, he could find his way around easy enough.