Lost in Love (9 page)

Imogen burst into laughter.

“I’m serious, Imogen,” Portia said in her imitation of Bea’s big sister tone.

“That’s not going to work with me, darling.” Gigi gave her arm a squeeze as she joined Portia. “And, no, Mother and Franny are not having an affair. Really, Portia, where on earth having you been hiding all these years?”

“What do you mean?”

“You used to be so quiet and reclusive. You never voiced anything that wasn’t Father’s opinion. This new Portia is vastly more entertaining.”

“Thank you.” She frowned. “I think.”

“Go off to wherever you were headed, darling.” Gigi kissed her cheek. “I’ll go check on Mother’s lesbian lovefest, shall I?”

She frowned as her sister began to laugh again. “I didn’t think it was so funny.”

“I know.” Gigi winked at her as she sashayed down the hall.

Portia was almost out the door when her sister called out to her. She turned around.

The humor in Gigi’s expression was replaced with gratitude. “Thank you, Portia.”

“For what?”

“The laughter. It was just what I needed this morning.” She flashed a tremulous smile that was nothing like her at all and then continued down the hall to the kitchen.

Portia stared after her sister. Something wasn’t right with Gigi. But Gigi was the least secretive of all their sisters. When something upset her, she let the world know. When she was ready, she’d tell them what was bothering her.

She would, Portia reassured herself, as she let herself out and went to work. 


Chapter Eleven

“It’s time, Meredith.”

She froze, her head bent, swatches in her hand and all over her desk. Goose bumps rose on her arms at his voice. Hoping she didn’t look as dusty as she felt, she glanced up, only the way he watched her took her breath away, so she couldn’t answer.

“I have a surprise for you,” he said.

“A surprise?” she repeated inanely.

“Yes.” He resettled his glasses on his nose. “Do I need to offer you an incentive?”

“No, I just”—shaking her head, she gestured to herself—”I’m a mess. I’ve been going through antiques with Portia all day.”

“How is that going?”

“Great.” At his doubtful look, she smiled. “I mean it. She wasn’t exaggerating when she said she knew every article in that warehouse. The provenances may not be verified on all the pieces, but she has an unerring eye for the best pieces, and she knows the stories behind a lot of them. I think we hire her to write down the stories to post at Suncrest. People love that sort of personal touch.”

“You’re enjoying working with her.”

“I like her.” She tipped her head. “You seem surprised by that.”

“Most women would have been jealous.”

She frowned. “You mean because of Jackson?”

“You were engaged.”

“You’ve brought this up a number of times, Quinn.” She stood up, meeting him eye to eye. “Does the fact that I was engaged to him bother you?”

He searched her face. “Not unless you still have feelings for him.”

She pursed her lips, giving it serious thought only because it was obviously important to Quinn. But the answer was clear and irrefutable. “I honestly don’t feel anything other than a fondness for Jackson. I love him, but I don’t think I was ever in love with him. It was just expected that we’d get married.”

He nodded.

“Do you believe me?”

“Yes.” He brushed his knuckles down her cheek. “You’re a little grungy, aren’t you?”

She laughed shakily, running a self-conscious hand over her hair. “Worse, I think, than you’re saying.”

“I like you mussed.” His hand cupped her neck, loose but possessive all the same. Voice lowered, he said, “I’m going to enjoy mussing you myself.”

She licked her lips as she glanced at his. “Quinn, what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

“Yes, but is it wise?”

“Do you want to be wise? Or do you want to live?”

She knew what the safe answer was; she knew what she should say. But when she looked him in the eye, she couldn’t lie. “I want to live.”

“You won’t be disappointed, Meredith.”

His voice was low with a sexy promise, and she swallowed the instant lust that it inspired. “You said it was time.”

“It’s time to tick off another item from your list.” He held his hand out to her.

They were both thinking of one particular item—she could see it in his eyes. Was he going to have sex with her?

His lips curved a little at the corners. “Don’t you want to find out what I have in mind?”

“Yes. No.” She took a deep breath. “I may be a bit trepidatious.”

“Don’t be,” he assured her, his hand steady in front of her, so capable and strong. Safe, even.

She put her hand in his and let him draw her out of the room.

His car and driver were waiting downstairs. Quinn opened the door for her and guided her in, as though she were a princess and not a grubby woman who’d worked in a warehouse all day.

He seemed to have no problem with how dusty she was. He climbed in next to her. His phone rang as he closed the door, and he muttered a curse under his breath. “I’m sorry, Meredith. I need to take this.”

She nodded. Of course he did. Jackson may be the CEO of Waite Hotel Group but Quinn ran the business.

He took her hand, put it on his leg, and covered it with his own as he answered the call.

She stiffened, afraid to move. Her hand was on him. If she curled her fingers, she’d be clutching his thigh.

She wanted to do it so badly. She wanted to run her hand up and down his leg, to cup him in between, to unzip his slacks and slip her fingers inside.

The thought made her tingle in her secret spot, and she crossed her legs. It’d be a bad idea to crawl onto his lap as he talked on the phone, for so many reasons.

But she wanted to, and the urge shocked her.

She should do it.

She couldn’t do it. This was Quinn, not some male floozy. She worked with him. She couldn’t just throw herself on him.

Could she?

The car stopped suddenly. They sat there a moment as Quinn wrapped up the call, and then he opened the door and led her out. “I’m sorry about that.”

She shrugged. “Don’t be.”

“You deserve better than to be neglected.”

“Oddly, I feel less neglected than I have in my entire life.” To distract herself from that truth, she looked at the building. “What are we doing at Harrods?”

“You’ll see.” With a hand on her back, he led her to the door.

A woman inside the door perked up the moment she saw them. She headed toward them, hand out. “Mr. Quinn, good to see you again. Everything is set. Right this way.”

“What’s set?” Meredith whispered to him as they followed the lady.

“You’ll see,” he said again with a wink.

They went up to the fifth floor, to a sleek boutique with “Urban Retreat” over the entrance. The masculinity of dark wood inside was counteracted by frill and velvety purple. Crystal perfume flacons and pretty product boxes lined all the counters.

“Where are we?” She saw a menu of services listed by the door. “This is a day spa?”

“Yes, and where I leave you,” Quinn said. The hint of a smile curved his lips. “Don’t look disappointed. It’s only for a little while.”

Meredith grabbed his arm before he could leave. “What are you up to?”

“Making your dreams come true.” He caressed her cheek before he left them.

“This way, miss.” The woman motioned her into the salon.

Fresh manicure and pedicure, hair and makeup … By the time Meredith left the salon, there wasn’t a speck of dust on her.

The woman who’d escorted them to Urban Retreat—Ana, Meredith had found out—was waiting for her after her pampering session to escort her away.

Meredith followed, eager and excited to see what was coming next. When they stepped into the dressing room and saw the dress waiting for her, she sighed happily. Being pampered and then shopping? The only way it could be better was if Quinn were waiting for her.

Ana picked the dress off the hanger and unzipped it. “Normally I pick several dresses to give you a choice, but Mr. Quinn liked this specific dress.”

“Did he?” Meredith murmured, unable to look away from the crimson dress. Strapless, it was floor-length, puddling at the bottom in a flowing tide of rich fabric.

“Mr. Quinn has excellent taste.” Ana smiled conspiratorially. “You’re a lucky woman.”

She wasn’t sure what she was. Confused, definitely. What was Quinn doing, and why was he doing it?

But before her thoughts took hold, Ana set the dress on the floor, ready for her to step into, and backed out of the room. “Mr. Quinn said that should you not like what he selected you’re free to choose something else. I’ll be outside if you need help with it.”

“Not like it?” She shook her head as she kicked off her shoes. The dress was stunning, and of course it fit like a glove. The top was heart-shaped, and the length was perfect with the strappy shoes he’d picked out. The color even complimented her hair.

The only problem was that if she lifted her arm, her scar was visible. She tugged the bodice up, shimmied her breast in, but it still showed.

She ran her hands along the sides of the dress. Normally, she’d have discarded it, but she felt beautiful in it, and Quinn had picked it. She’d just make sure to keep her arm down.

Opening the curtain, she stepped out and turned around. “Ana, can you help with this? And I didn’t see a price tag.”

“Mr. Quinn’s arranged for everything.” The woman secured the hook and zipped the back to the top. “It looks fabulous. Do you like it?”

“Are you insane? I
love
it.” She twirled in front of the three-way mirror. “It was really expensive, wasn’t it?”

“Yes, it was,” Ana said gleefully, handing over a wrap. “This is also for you, and then when you’re ready I’ll take you back downstairs.”

Meredith looked at herself in the mirror one last time before following Ana out. She wasn’t sure how she should feel about Quinn treating her to all this. She was used to taking care of herself. She made an excellent living—she could buy her own things.

She knew what he’d say if she brought that up to him. He’d tell her it had nothing to do with whether she could take care of herself and everything to do with him wanting to do something nice for her. He’d tell her to let him pamper her.

So she nodded at Ana. “I’m ready.”

He was waiting for her at the entrance, dressed in a tuxedo, oblivious of the way people stared at him. He had his phone in his hand, but he must have sensed her, because he looked up as she approached. Eyes only for her, he slipped his cell into his pocket and waited for her to join him.

Meredith walked slowly, feeling like it was prom and she was going out with the hottest boy in school. She wanted to savor the feeling.

“You look amazing,” he said with feeling. He pressed a soft kiss to the bared skin of her neck. “Come. Your item is waiting.”

“My item?” She frowned at him. “There’s more to this?”

“Of course there is. Wearing a fancy dress wasn’t what was on your list.” He led her to the car, where the driver stood holding the door open. Quinn helped her in and followed after her.

She settled the layers of her dress around her so she wouldn’t get too rumpled. “I don’t need more than this. It’s already amazing.”

“You may not need more, but you deserve it.” He faced her on the seat, holding out a box. “What you wished for.”

She gaped at the understated but expensive looking blue box. “Harry Winston,” she said in hushed words.

“Open it.”

She held it, just enjoying the feel, before she pried it open on its hinges. Inside was a beautiful necklace brilliant with diamonds. She blinked at it, stunned. “Quinn.”

“I’ll put it on you.” He deftly took the necklace and latched it around her neck. Then he adjusted it, so the diamonds dripped down to tease her cleavage. “Perfect.”

She shook her head, touching the necklace. “Tell me you didn’t buy this.”

“Would that bother you?”

“
Yes
.” She gaped at him. “The dress and shoes and hair were already stretching it. A person doesn’t just buy necklaces like this for anyone.”

“I didn’t buy it for anyone.”

“What does that mean?” She frowned. “That you didn’t buy it?”

He tipped his head, as though intrigued. “Are you upset at the thought of me spending money on you?”

“This isn’t money, it’s a fortune.”

“I make a lot of money, Meredith, and I invest well. This isn’t going to break me.”

She ran her fingers over the stones. They were warming to her skin, as though breathing with her. Having enough money to spend frivolously wasn’t the point. The point was that he was spending it on her.

“In any case, you needn’t worry about the necklace. It’s a favor called in.” He smiled sardonically. “Disappointed now?”

Drat him, she was. But she shook her head. “When would I ever wear it anyway?”

The drive was a blur. Her head spun the entire way. Quinn kept up the conversation, lightly holding her hand. Every so often, she glanced at her reflection in the window, just to see the glitter at her throat.

She had no idea how long they drove or where they went. They pulled up in a residential neighborhood, in front of a sleek building. The only marking was a plaque near the door.

Quinn put a hand at her back and guided her inside before she could get chilled. As soon as they were in the door, they were greeted by a smiling man. “Mr. Quinn, a pleasure to see you again.”

“Thank you, Paul.”

The man welcomed her as warmly, if anonymously, and showed them to a table in a dimly lit corner of the restaurant. As Quinn held out her chair for her, she noted that there were no tables within eight feet of them. “This is a strange layout.”

“How do you mean?” he asked as he unbuttoned his coat and sat across from her.

“The tables are spread out too much. If they filled in the space, they’d make more revenue each night.”

“I asked them to give us space.”

Of course he did, and of course they did his bidding. She couldn’t imagine anyone denying him what he wanted. “You work fast.”