скачать книгу бесплатно
Tiarnan stood up. ‘Paloma, this is Kate—an old friend.’
Kate stood and extended her hand. As the woman came in it was extremely obvious that she’d been crying. She shook Kate’s hand and managed a distracted watery smile.
Tiarnan was looking from her to Kate. ‘This is Paloma—Rosie’s nanny.’ Belatedly noticing Paloma’s distress, he said, ‘What is it? Something with Rosie?’
Kate could feel the tension spike, and guessed in an instant that Rosie had probably been giving Paloma a hard time too.
The woman shook her head and fresh tears welled,
‘No, it’s not Rosie, it’s my son. He’s been involved in an accident and he’s been taken to hospital. I’m sorry, Mr Quinn, but I have to go there immediately.’
Kate put her arm around the woman’s shoulders instinctively as Tiarnan quickly reassured her. ‘I’ll have Juan take you. Don’t worry, Paloma, you’ll be taken care of.’
‘Thank you, Mr Quinn. I’m so sorry.’
He waved aside her apology, and with a look to Kate strode out of the room to make arrangements. Kate did her best to help out. They went to Paloma’s room and Kate helped her pack.
A short while later, as they stood on the steps and watched Tiarnan’s chauffeur-driven Mercedes pull away with Paloma in the back, he turned and ran a hand through his hair. ‘I’m sorry, Kate. I invited you for a quiet lunch and it’s been nothing but drama. I didn’t intend for it to be like this.’
Kate looked up into those glittering blue eyes and felt out of her depth. Tiarnan had taken control of the situation and despatched Paloma with an assurance that she must have as much time off as she needed. She’d heard him make a call to the hospital where Paloma’s son was to make sure that he was getting the best of treatment, arranging for him to be moved to a private room. Kate knew that he would personally oversee any payment. His innate goodness and generosity made her feel vulnerable.
She shrugged a slim shoulder. ‘That’s OK. It couldn’t be helped.’
A shadow passed over Tiarnan’s face and he swore softly under his breath. He looked out past her to where the car had disappeared.
‘What is it?’
He looked back to her. ‘I’m due in Dublin this evening, for the AGM of the board of Sorcha’s outreach programme. I promised Sorcha and Romain I’d do it for them while the baby is so small.’
‘Oh …’ Kate would instinctively have asked what she could do to help, but she was due on her flight back to New York herself. She knew how important Sorcha’s outreach youth centre was to her. And while she’d no doubt Romain would jump on a plane to Dublin for an important meeting like this for his wife, she knew Tiarnan wouldn’t want to let them down.
‘Can’t Esmerelda help out?’
Tiarnan shook his head. ‘She’s a lot older than she looks, and while she does live here, in an apartment out the back, her husband is old too and needs taking care of … I couldn’t ask her to take on Rosie.’
‘Your mother?’ Kate knew that Mrs Quinn had moved back to her native Madrid as soon as Sorcha had left home.
‘She’s down in the south, staying with her sister until the spring.’
‘Oh …’
‘The other problem is that I’m due to fly straight to New York from Dublin tomorrow. I’m taking part in talks with a senator, the mayor and one of the major banks. It’s something I couldn’t get out of even if I wanted to …’
Kate’s conscience pricked her. She had to say something, because she knew when she got back to New York she didn’t have any work lined up. She’d told her formidable agent, Maud Harriday, that she wanted to start scaling back her work commitments, and Maud with typical brusqueness had declared that all she needed was a holiday. So now, for the first time in a long time, Kate had a few clear weeks of … nothing.
‘Look, I don’t have any work lined up for the next …’ she stopped herself revealing too much ‘… the next while. I could stay here and watch Rosie if you want. I mean, if that’s OK with you?’
Kate couldn’t decipher the expression on Tiarnan’s face. She knew he was fiercely protective of his daughter. Perhaps he didn’t trust her? That thought lanced her.
‘I’d enjoy having an excuse to stay in Madrid—and a chance to see Rosie properly again …’
Tiarnan looked down at Kate, taking in her clear blue gaze. She was surprising him again. Offering to take on responsibility for Rosie like this. A few lovers after his divorce had hinted at wanting to get to know Rosie, to try and become more intimate. He instinctively wanted to say no to Kate’s suggestion, but found himself stopping. The immediate feeling that he could trust her with Rosie surprised him.
Kate saw him deliberate, and felt compelled to insist on helping him. She refused to investigate that impulse.
‘Tiarnan, you’re stuck. If you want to go to Dublin in two hours and New York tomorrow, who can you get to mind Rosie at such short notice? And you know if you say you can’t go then Romain will have to leave Sorcha on her own with the baby.’
She was right. Tiarnan knew if Kate wasn’t here, offering this solution, he would have to take Rosie with him on his trip—and that was never ideal. Especially when her routine was of paramount importance right now. And Kate wasn’t some random stranger. Tiarnan knew that she’d spent time with Rosie whenever Sorcha had looked after her for him before, and his discreet security team would make sure that Rosie and she were well protected. Rosie was an independent, mature girl for her age, so she really just needed to have company. Esmerelda would be on hand too. But …
He seemed to be considering something—and then he took Kate by surprise, moving closer. She froze.
He cocked his head slightly. ‘You wouldn’t be doing this just to avoid me, would you, Kate? Now that you know I’m going to New York? Or even because you’re hoping that this will foster some kind of longer-lasting position in my life?’
Kate clenched her fists, surprised by the strength of the hurt that rushed through her at this evidence of his cynicism, and felt anger at his arrogant assumption that her capitulation was a foregone conclusion. His mention of New York hadn’t even registered—or had it? The evidence that she might have been faced with his relentless determination again within days sent a flare of awareness through her. She damped it down, hating that he might see something.
‘No, Tiarnan. Believe it or not, I’m just trying to help.’
She saw a suspicious light flash in his eyes, as if he didn’t trust her assertion. He came even closer and lifted a hand, trailing a finger over the curve of her cheekbone and down to the place where her jaw met her neck. Since when had that small area become so sensitive that she wanted to turn her face into his hand and purr like a cat?
‘Good,’ he said softly. ‘Because I had been planning on asking you out for dinner in New York. We can discuss it when I get back.’
Suspicion slammed into Kate, clearing her lust-hazed mind as she remembered the frenetic call from Maud about this assignment, the apparent urgency. She reached up and took down Tiarnan’s hand. It felt warm and strong and vital, but she forced herself to let it go and glared up at him. ‘Did you have anything to do with my being sent here for this impromptu shoot?’
Tiarnan crossed his arms and looked down at Kate, completely at ease. Smug. He shrugged minutely. ‘Not … exactly …’
Kate crossed her arms too, as suspicion turned into cold certainty and not a little fear at how Tiarnan was determined to manipulate her. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
His eyes turned steely. ‘It means that I might have encouraged the CEO of the luxury brand Baudé, who is a personal friend of mine, to hire you. I was aware he was looking for a suitable model …’
Shock spread through Kate—his influence had meant that within a week of seeing him in San Francisco he had managed to get her all the way across the world to Madrid, practically gift-wrapped on his doorstep. The realisation stunned her. Evidence of his determination made her feel funny inside—confused.
‘How dare you use me like that? I’m not some pawn you can just move around—’
Tiarnan took her hand, and her words halted and died.
‘Kate. You know I want you. I will do whatever it takes to convince you of that and get you to admit that you want me too.’
‘But … but …’ Kate spluttered. The effect of him just holding her hand was sending her pulse into overdrive. ‘That’s positively Machiavellian.’
He came closer and lifted her hand to his mouth, pressed a kiss to the underside of her wrist. ‘No. It’s called desire—and it’s a desire I’ve denied for a long, long time …’
Ten years. It hung there between them like an accusation.
‘Tiarnan,’ Kate said weakly. ‘It was so long ago … it was just a kiss … we’re not the same …’
‘So why does it feel like it was only yesterday, and that it was more than just a kiss?’
And right then, with Tiarnan holding her hand and standing so close, it slammed back into Kate with all the intensity as if it had been yesterday. It was exactly the same for her. The only problem was it had never diminished for her, while he’d been busy getting married, having a baby. Forgetting her. Until now. Because he was bored, or intrigued to know what he’d refused? Kate tried to pull her hand away, but he was remorseless, wouldn’t let go. She glared up at him, feeling panic rise, feeling inarticulate.
Tiarnan’s voice was eminently reasonable. ‘I may have suggested you to someone for a campaign. That’s all I did. I wanted to meet you here, show you that I meant what I said in San Francisco … and then in New York I was hoping that you’d agree to go out with me. Give us a chance.’ He grimaced. ‘What happened with Paloma today was out of even my control.’
Kate flushed and looked down for a moment. The panic was still there, but she fought it down. ‘Of course it is. You couldn’t have known that would happen.’
She looked up then, and finally managed to pull her hand from his. She stepped back to give herself space. But she knew it was useless. Tiarnan Quinn was fast filling every space within her and around her—as only he could.
‘Look, I’m offering to stay and watch Rosie till you get back. Apart from that …’ She shook her head. ‘I—’
Tiarnan put a finger to Kate’s mouth. ‘Just … think about it, OK?’
Kate looked into his eyes for a long moment, and what she saw there alternately scared the life out of her and made her want to wrap her arms around his neck and have him kiss her—exactly as she’d been wanting him to since the christening in France. Eventually, feeling weak, she nodded. It was only a small movement, but it seemed that Tiarnan was happy enough with that. She was afraid he’d seen some capitulation in her eyes that she wasn’t even aware of.
‘Good. And thank you for offering to stay.’ He stepped back too, and gestured for her to precede him back into the house. ‘I’d better see if Rosie’s OK with this, and fill you in on all the details of her routine.’
Kate walked back into the house and felt as if she was stepping over a line in the sand. She just hoped and prayed that someone would come along and divert Tiarnan’s attention in New York. And yet as soon as she had that thought the acid bile of jealousy rose. Kate was very afraid that when Tiarnan returned she wouldn’t have the strength to resist him …
Kate’s eyes were tired. She put down what she was working on and sat back in the couch for a moment, closing her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose. She was waiting up for Tiarnan. He was due home at any time now. He’d been gone for three days.
Kate was all geared up to be clear and firm. She fully intended flying back to New York first thing in the morning. The thought of Rosie, though, made her heart clench. It had taken some time—a couple of days of Kate walking her to and from her new school nearby, chatting easily about this and that—for a sense of the familiar old accord to come back. And while it wasn’t exactly the way it had been, things were definitely thawing. Rosie clearly had a lot going on in her serious little head.
Earlier that evening, after Kate had bent down to kiss her goodnight, she’d been surprised and touched when a pair of skinny arms had crept around her neck and held on tight for a second. Rosie had said nothing, and Kate hadn’t pushed it, just crept out of the room, her heart swelling with emotion. Emotion she shouldn’t be allowing herself to feel for the little girl. Or her father.
Kate was surprised to admit to herself that in the past few days she’d felt an increasing sense of relaxation stealing over her. It had been so long since she’d slowed her pace. Stopping at the local café on her way home from seeing Rosie off to school each day, taking time to just read the paper had reminded her of how long it had been since she’d devoted any time to herself.
Sorcha had phoned earlier, and Kate hadn’t missed the open curiosity in her voice. Kate hated misleading her friend, keeping the real nature of what was going on with Tiarnan from her, but Sorcha was just too close, so she’d passed off the chain of events that had led her to Madrid as just coincidence. But it was no coincidence that she was sitting curled up on Tiarnan’s couch, waiting for him to come home, and no coincidence that was causing this churning mixture of excitement and turmoil in her belly …
Tiarnan stood at the door of the living room. The house was silent, warm. A sense of peace washed over him—the same peace he always felt when he got home and checked that Rosie was safe, tucked up in bed asleep. And yet tonight, after checking on her, that quality of peace was deeper, more profound.
One dim lamp was lit and on the couch was the curled-up figure of a woman. Kate. Here in his house. His. Satisfaction coursed through him. He walked in, the rug muffling his steps. She was asleep, hair tumbled over one shoulder in a bright coil of white-gold. His eyes travelled over her lissom form—what he could see of it in faded jeans and plaid button-down shirt. Her feet were bare, delicately arched, toenails painted with clear gloss. Desire was instant and burning within him.
He shrugged off his jacket and threw it onto the edge of the couch, sitting down beside Kate. She moved slightly in her sleep, sliding towards him, towards the depression he’d made. Tiarnan put an arm across the back of the couch and leant towards her face, which was turned towards him.
‘Kate,’ he whispered softly. She didn’t stir.
He’d never been turned on by sleeping women, usually preferring them awake and willing, but there was something so perfect about Kate in sleep, her cheeks flushed a slight pink, her mouth in a little moue, that he couldn’t resist the temptation to bend even closer and press his mouth to hers.
Kate knew she was dreaming, but it was too delicious a dream to wake herself from just yet. A man’s mouth was moving over hers enticingly, softly, as if coaxing a response. And, as if watching herself from outside her own body, she gave full rein to her imagination and let it be Tiarnan; let it be his hard, sensual mouth. It felt so good, so right, and on a sigh that seemed to draw in pure lust she opened her mouth against his.
She felt his deep moan of approval. It rumbled through her whole body, sensitising every point, making her breasts tighten, the tips harden into points. When his tongue sought entry to explore and tease, she smiled against his lips, her own tongue making a bold foray, tasting his, sucking it deep. She arched her body, wanting to feel more …
On some level, even while Kate knew she was dreaming, she was also very aware of the fact that she was in Madrid, in Tiarnan’s house, waiting up for him to come home from the US … As if she’d climbed too high in consciousness to stay where she’d been, the shocking realisation came that she was no longer dreaming … what was happening was very real. Tiarnan!
Kate’s eyes flew open, and at the same time she became aware of her heart racing and her breath coming hard and fast. She also became aware of slumberous blue eyes looking directly into hers. As if he’d sensed her wakefulness before she did, Tiarnan had moved back slightly. Her hands were on his shoulders, clutching them to her, not in the act of pushing him away. Her mouth felt bruised, sensitive. She remembered the hunger of that kiss just now. And yet amongst the shock and dismay that splintered her brain was pure joy at seeing him again.
It was all too much for her to process for a minute, seeing him here like this. She reacted against that feeling of joy and tried to push him away with all her might.
‘What do you think you’re doing?’
She gave another huge push, but Tiarnan was like a rock and still far too close. His mouth quirked sexily and everything seemed to slam into Kate at once: the dimness of the room, his scent, his body so close to hers. Her wanton reaction.
‘Waking you with a kiss.’
She reacted violently to his voice, feeling acutely vulnerable—he’d taken deliberate advantage of her, and the more he did it, the less she could argue to him or herself that she was immune to him. If he knew how close this was to the fantasy she’d had for a long time …
She pushed again, feeling heat rise in her face. ‘Finding me asleep did not give you the right to molest me.’
Tiarnan finally rolled back and away, releasing her, but a mocking look on his face cut right through her flimsy attack.
‘Kate, believe me, I wasn’t—What the—?’ He suddenly jumped up like a scalded cat, holding something in his hand.
Kate immediately saw what it was.
‘What the hell is that?’ Genuine pain throbbed in his voice, and Kate allowed herself a small dart of pleasure; that would teach him.
She stood up and took the offending article from him. ‘It’s a knitting needle.’ She indicated the couch and the pile of knitting that had rolled off her lap when she’d fallen asleep. ‘I’m knitting a jumper for Molly, for Christmas.’
His mouth opened and closed. Kate saw a genuine lack of comprehension in his eyes, and then she looked down to where his hand still held his side, just above his trousers. A dark shape was flowering outwards through a small rip in his shirt, under his hand.
Shock slammed into Kate, turning her cold in a second. ‘Tiarnan—you’re bleeding.’
His mouth was a tight line. ‘It went right into me.’
Acting on pure instinct, and feeling a shard of fear rush through her, Kate reached out and ripped open the bottom of his shirt. The wound was a small puncture, but it was pumping blood, and when she looked up at Tiarnan he’d gone white. Too panicked to feel bemused at his obvious distaste for blood, Kate held his shirt to the wound and led him out to the kitchen, where she found the first aid kit under the sink.
She made him rest back on the huge wooden table as she opened his shirt all the way to tend to him. She felt shaky. ‘I’m so sorry, Tiarnan. I’d no idea you were leaning on the needle …’
He just grunted, and Kate busied herself stanching the blood. She applied pressure to a piece of cotton wool over the wound for a long moment, and looked at him warily. Colour had come back into his cheeks and his eyes were now glittering into hers.
He arched an incredulous brow. ‘Knitting?’
She smiled weakly. ‘It’s a hobby. Something I took up to pass the time backstage at the shows.’
‘Reading would have been too boring, I take it?’ His tone was as dry as toast.
She smiled again. ‘And smash the stereotype that all models are thick?’
A glint of humour passed between them, and suddenly Kate became very aware of the fact that Tiarnan was lounging back, lean hips resting on the table, shirt open, impressive chest bare. In a surge of awareness, now that the panic was gone, she unthinkingly applied more pressure, making Tiarnan wince.
‘Sorry,’ she muttered, lifting the cotton wool to check if the bleeding had stopped. To her relief it had, and it didn’t look as if the needle had gone too deep. But now all she could think about was the fact that she was right between his splayed legs. The material of his trousers was pulled taut over firmly muscled thighs. His belt buckle glinted and a line of dark silken hair led upwards over a hard flat belly, like an enticement to his chest, which was covered with more dark hair. She had a sudden burning desire to know what it would be like to have her bare breasts pressed against his chest …
She grew hot again as she busied herself cleaning the wound and getting a plaster to hold it in place. Her hands didn’t feel steady, and she prayed that Tiarnan wasn’t noticing her meltdown.
What Tiarnan was noticing was the tantalising display of her breasts, just visible as she moved, in the vee of her shirt. From what he could see she wore a plain white bra, and her breasts looked soft and voluptuous. Perfectly shaped. He could remember how they’d felt, crushed against his chest. Her soft, evocative scent wafted up from her body as she moved. Her legs looked impossibly long in the faded jeans. He shifted on the table as she bent down and unwittingly came closer to where he was starting to ache unmercifully. The pain of where the needle had lanced him faded in comparison. The incongruity of finding that she’d been knitting in the first place—not a hobby that he associated with a woman like her—had faded too, in the heat of his arousal.
If she looked down … He gritted his teeth, trying to control his body, a muscle throbbing in his jaw as her soft small hands worked. Her hair slid over her shoulder then, and whispered against his belly. Everything in him tightened, and he couldn’t help a groan. Immediately Kate looked up with wide, innocent eyes, inflaming him even more.
‘Did I hurt you?’ He shook his head. She was finished putting on the plaster. He could hear the tremor in her voice when she said, ‘There—all done.’
He reached out and held her elbows, dragging her imperceptibly closer, and closed his legs around hers slightly. He could see her widening eyes, pupils enlarging, and it had a direct effect on his arousal levels. She was tantalisingly close to where his erection strained against his trousers. But not close enough.
