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Even if he wanted to come clean, how the hell was he supposed to explain himself? Had he become so enamored that he’d lost the ability to think for himself? Marcus had to admit that Eden Ross was pretty persuasive, especially when she turned on the sex appeal. And Marcus had never been good at reading a woman’s true intentions. He’d been drawn in before he realized what was happening.
“What are you going to do?” Marcus asked.
“Ross is sending a security detail over to the house to watch for her. Ian put out an APB on her after she called in that false emergency. And I’ve got a new assignment from Ross.”
“What is it?” Marcus asked.
Dec pulled the car into the parking lot of the diner and switched the ignition off. “Nothing you’d find interesting.”
Marcus watched a subtle shift in his brother’s expression and recognized the signs. Ian and Dec had always kept secrets from him when he was younger, but Marcus had devised an easy way to recognize a lie. Dec tried too hard to look indifferent, and Ian hid his lies with elaborate distractions. Considering that every emotion Declan felt could be seen in his face, Marcus could tell he was lying now.
“Would you like to tell me about her?” Marcus asked, grateful to find a way to deflect attention from his own lies.
Dec sighed. “She’s nothing special, certainly not enough to tempt me.”
“Be careful,” Marcus warned. “You’ve got money riding on this.”
Dec laughed sharply. “I’ve got money riding on Eden Ross, too. And there’s no way I’m going to lose on either one of those deals.”
Maybe Dec already had, he mused as he stepped out of the car. Eden was safely hidden in Marcus’s loft. And if Dec’s mystery lady was anything like Eden, then Dec didn’t stand a chance with her either. In truth, the agreement they’d made and the money they’d put down made it all the more difficult to remain celibate. Given the choice, he’d take Eden over the money any day.
When they walked into the diner, they found Ian enjoying a cup of coffee at the counter, dressed in his uniform. He happily joined them at a booth along the front windows. Alice, their favorite waitress, dropped three menus on the table and filled their coffee cups.
Ian glanced over at Marcus and frowned. “What’s wrong with you?”
“See, I asked the same thing,” Dec said.
“Nothing,” Marcus said. “I’m tired. I’ve been working late. I’m hungry. Is that enough or do you want more?” He’d been having mind-blowing sex with the most beautiful woman in the world. A guy had a right to look different.
“Any luck with Eden Ross?” Ian asked, turning to his younger brother.
“She’s in the wind,” Dec replied. “I checked the cab companies, the private limos, even the bus station. She just vanished. Whoever she was with must have had transportation. She could be anywhere by now. Why is it so damn hard to find this girl? Sometimes I feel like she’s right under our noses.”
“Did anyone besides the night manager actually see her?” Ian asked.
“Nope. But the photographers gave me a photo of the guy. Can’t make out much. He’s tall, over six feet, with dark hair. And she let him into the room like she knew him. There’s been a rumor going around that she’s been kidnapped,” Dec said. “Ross hasn’t gotten any ransom note, but it doesn’t seem like she’s being held against her will.”
Ian nodded. “She checked into the motel alone and paid cash for one night. If she’d needed help, she could have asked then. And why would she steal her father’s car?”
“Doesn’t sound like a kidnapping to me,” Marcus said. His brothers turned to him, clearly uninterested in his opinion.
“Maybe so,” Dec said. “But given the rumors, Ross is about ready to call in the FBI.”
Marcus shifted uneasily. This was getting out of hand. He had to talk to Eden.
Marcus took another sip of his coffee, then set his cup down. “I really need to go. I’ve got a lot of things to do today and I’m good with just the coffee.” He grabbed his wallet and withdrew a twenty, then tossed it on the table. “Breakfast is on me. I’ll talk to you guys later.”
“Where are you going?” Ian asked. “First you cut out on dinner the other night and now breakfast. For a guy who runs his own business, you seem to be on a pretty tight schedule.”
“I thought you were hungry,” Dec said. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a woman stashed back at your place.”
Marcus scoffed, shaking his head. “Yeah, right. If I had a woman in my bed, I wouldn’t be here having coffee with you tossers.”
“Good point,” Ian said.
Marcus slid out of the booth, but Dec stopped him before he could make his getaway. “When you go back out to the Ross place, let me know if you see anything.”
“Or anyone?” Marcus asked.
“Just keep an eye out. She went there once—she may stop by again.”
Once Marcus stepped outside, he drew a deep breath of the damp morning air. The minute he got home he was going to have a talk with Eden. The longer she dragged this out, the more consequences there would be in the end. They both needed a plan or this affair of theirs would turn into a major disaster.
EDEN ROLLED OVER IN bed and opened her sleepy eyes, squinting to see the clock on the beside table. Pans clattered in the kitchen, and she flopped back into the soft pillows and stretched. A pleasant exhaustion settled over her, and she smiled to herself as she drew the sheet up over her naked body.
Thoughts of Marcus drifted through her mind, images of his handsome face, eyes closed, passion suffusing his features. Her fingers tingled and she reached out and grabbed his pillow, inhaling his scent.
When it came to desire, nothing seemed to stand between them. When he was inside her, she felt completely vulnerable and infinitely powerful at the same time. She’d discarded the last of her inhibitions. With Marcus, sex was an adventure to be shared.
Eden crawled out of bed and drew the sail around her body. “I thought you were going to bring me breakfast in bed,” she called.
A few moments later an older woman appeared, a dish towel clutched in her hands. “I’m sure I could make you something if you wanted,” she said softly, her words tinged with an accent.
Eden drew a sharp breath, then forced a smile. “I’m sorry,” she murmured. “I thought you were Marcus.”
She smiled warmly and nodded. “I’m not.”
“Are you the maid?” Eden asked.
“I do occasionally clean up after Marcus,” she said. “That much is true. Are you sure I can’t get you some breakfast, dear?”
“I—I’m just going to get dressed,” Eden said.
“That would be a fine idea. I’ll just get back to work.”
Eden scrambled to find something to wear, but the only clothes within reach belonged to Marcus. She pulled a pair of his boxers from a pile of clean laundry on the floor, then slipped into a T-shirt. By the time she got to the kitchen, the housekeeper was heating water in the teakettle.
“Can I make you a cup?” she asked.
“Yes,” Eden replied. She sat down on one of the stools and observed the woman. She wasn’t dressed like a cleaning lady. She wore a pair of tailored pants and a cotton sweater set in a pretty shade of blue. An uneasy realization dawned and Eden’s stomach lurched. “You’re Marcus’s mother, aren’t you?”
She glanced up and smiled. “I am.” She held out her hand. “Emma Quinn.”
Hesitantly Eden accepted the gesture. “Liselotte,” she said. “Liselotte Bunderstrassen.”
“What a lovely name,” Emma said. “Lisa …?”
“Just Lisa is fine,” Eden said.
Emma reached into a canister on the counter and withdrew a handful of tea bags. “Earl Grey or chamomile?”
“Chamomile,” Eden said.
“How long have you and Marcus known each other, Lisa?” Emma asked as she set two mugs next to the cooktop.
“Not long,” Eden said, then swallowed hard. She certainly didn’t want his mother to think this was a one-night stand. “But long enough. He’s very sweet.”
“He always has been. He’s the baby of the family and he’s a sensitive soul. Always watching out for others.”
“Yes,” Eden said. “That’s true.” She paused. “He doesn’t talk much about his family. I know he has brothers.”
“He has four brothers and two sisters. Do you have siblings?”
Eden shook her head. “No, I’m an only child. I never thought much about having sisters or brothers. I got so little of my parents’ time as it was that I didn’t want to share.” She drew a deep breath. “But now I wish I had a sister or even a brother. Someone I could go to when I needed help. Someone who would always be on my side.”
“Husbands are good for that, too,” Emma said.
She’d made no attempt to hide the inference, and Eden couldn’t stop a smile. “Marcus and I—we haven’t … There’s no reason to believe that—I do like him an awful lot.”
Emma Quinn reached out and patted her hand. “A mother can only hope,” she said. “Marcus would do well to find a wife. He needs someone to shake up his life, someone bright and outgoing, like you. He keeps to himself far too much.”
Eden wasn’t sure how his mother would feel if she knew the truth. Would she be so eager to marry off her son to a notorious party girl who was the star of her very own sex tape? Emma Quinn might be looking for a daughter-in-law, but Eden knew she wouldn’t be on the short list.
The teakettle began to squeal, and Marcus’s mother hopped off the stool and fetched it, filling both mugs with water. “Do you take sugar or milk?”
“Just plain,” Eden said. She wrapped her hands around the mug. “Tell me about your family.”
“I married Paddy Quinn when I was twenty-four. He’d grown up in Ireland and came over here to fish on a long-liner—a swordfishing boat. He came from a family of fishermen. I grew up here. My mother was Irish. My true father died before I was born. He was killed in the war, and my mother married an American G.I. who sent her off to Boston to live with his family.”
“How did you meet your husband?”
“We were introduced by friends. A blind date, you might say. We fell in love, but my mother didn’t want me to marry him. She wanted me to return to Ireland with her after my stepfather died, but I refused.”
“How did you know you loved him?” Eden asked.
“I didn’t at first. But every day, in little ways, he showed me that my happiness was the most important thing to him, more important than his own. He made me feel …” She smiled. “Safe. I know it doesn’t sound like much, but it was to me. And later on it was all I needed.”
“No,” Eden murmured. “It sounds wonderful. I know exactly what you mean.”
“And then we had Rory and Eddie and Mary Grace and Jane. And then Ian and Declan and finally Marcus. Would you like children?”
Her question took Eden aback. She’d never thought about having a family of her own. She hadn’t exactly had a good example to follow. The quick answer would have been no, but the thoughtful answer was much more surprising. “Yes,” she murmured. “I’d like to believe that someday I might have a family of my very own.”
Eden sipped her tea as Emma Quinn busied herself around the kitchen. They chatted about Marcus and his talents as a boatbuilder and wood-carver. And gradually Eden began to realize that the man she believed Marcus to be—quiet, solid, tenderhearted—was the man that his family knew, as well.
For the first time in her life she’d judged a man correctly. But was she the woman that Marcus believed her to be? Or had she simply been convinced she could be something more?
Suddenly Eden felt a frantic need to protect her reputation. She’d get the tape and destroy it before Emma Quinn and the rest of Marcus’s family found out who she really was. Eden sipped at her tea and tried to calm her nerves.
She’d never really cared what people thought of her. Why had that suddenly changed?
MARCUS SAT ON A LOW bench and stared out at the harbor. Sailboats bobbed at their moorings, the rigging clanking as they rocked. It seemed like months since he and Eden had been on board Victorious, but it had only been little more than a day. In that time, so much had changed.
On the boat they’d been swept away by their physical attraction to each other. But now she was sleeping in his bed and living in his loft. He’d grown used to having her with him, and though the sex was incredible, he found himself enjoying the small, quiet moments they spent outside of their passion for each other. It was becoming more difficult to imagine a day without seeing her—or touching her.
Was it just the sex? The notion wasn’t that farfetched. He’d never enjoyed such an intense relationship with a woman, nor one that required so little commitment. Eden didn’t ask anything of him beyond his willing participation in their bedroom activities.
But he couldn’t help but feel as if they were biding their time. To believe that they could continue on like this was foolish. Though he’d insisted that she call her parents, he’d done nothing to remind her of her promise. For now, she belonged entirely to him, dependent on him for his protection. There was a pleasant security in that. But if he let things go on as they had been, he might never be able to let her go.
He chuckled to himself. Wouldn’t that be poetic justice? He’d thrown himself into a purely physical relationship only to come out on the other side wanting more. Would he become one of those daft wankers who spent years pining after a woman they could never have? He shook his head. Hell, no. When Eden finally left, he wouldn’t look back.
He stood and walked toward the boatyard, his hands shoved in his pockets, his thoughts occupied with the odd turn in his feelings. When it came to women, he’d never looked beyond the next night in bed. But with Eden, he’d let himself see a future. Though it was hazy and dim, it was there, just beyond his reach.
Marcus clenched his fists. Would he grab for it or would he let it evaporate before his eyes? He stopped at the entrance to the boatyard and stared up at the sprawling building that held a retail store, the repair shop and a sail loft. How could he ever believe that he had anything to offer Eden? Sure, the sex was fantastic, but even Marcus knew that a real relationship couldn’t be built on only that.
He was a regular guy. He made his living with his hands, and it wasn’t much of a living at that. He’d never questioned his financial success until now. But Eden deserved more than a crudely furnished loft above a shabby boatyard. His mind flashed an image of the Ross compound on the bay, the sprawling white clapboard house and the beautiful grounds, the garages filled with fancy cars, and servants who waited on the family hand and foot.
And what did they have in common? What would they share if the passion ever wore off? They’d led completely different lives on opposite ends of the spectrum. Even if Marcus dedicated the rest of his life to making her happy, he’d be doomed to fail.
When he turned into the parking lot for Quinn’s Boat Works, Marcus noticed his father in front of the service bay door, surrounded by crates, a crowbar clutched in his hand.
“Da,” Marcus called. “What do you have there?”
Paddy Quinn stood staring at the job at hand. His gray hair was mussed by the breeze and his cheeks were ruddy. Though he’d celebrated his sixtieth birthday last year, he didn’t show his age. His body was trim and his arms were muscled and the deep wrinkles brought on by years on the water only added character to his face. “New outboards,” he said. “We had to unload them here. The forklift is busted.”
Though Marcus’s Irish accent had all but disappeared, his father’s brogue was still thick. Paddy had lived the first twenty-two years of his life in Ireland. Marcus’s mother, who’d been born in America, had adopted her accent from her own mother, Nana Callahan, the very same grandmother who had cared for the boys in Ireland.
“It’s Sunday, Da. Leave it for tomorrow.”
“It’s a holiday weekend. The store will be busy,” Paddy said. “By the way, your mam’s looking for you.”
“Is she in the store?”
“Nah, she walked over to the boathouse.”
“When?” Marcus asked, turning toward the loft.
Paddy frowned. “Might have been twenty minutes ago. She’s takin’ her sweet time about it. You’ll probably find her cleanin’ your kitchen.” He straightened and hitched his hands on his hips. “Can’t ever stop makin’ up for time lost, I fear. She needs to get her motherin’ in now while you boys’ll still have it. Give her a break, will ya?”
“I better go see what she wants,” Marcus said.
Marcus strode through the yard to the boathouse. He took the stairs two steps at a time and threw open the door to the loft. He stopped short when he saw his mother and Eden seated comfortably at the counter, both enjoying a cup of tea.
They both turned when he walked in, and Eden graced him with a delighted smile. “Hi,” she said. “Your mother stopped by.”
Emma Quinn pushed off the stool and stood, her hands clutched together in front of her. Even after her long battle with cancer she was a lovely woman, tiny and trim, her face unlined and her eyes bright. She wore her dark hair short and tucked behind her ears in a very proper way. Marcus had always remembered her smile, had seen it in his dreams when he was a boy, and it still warmed his heart. She smiled at him now.
“Hey, Ma.”
