The Mighty Quinns: Rogan

“There’s no such thing. Besides, look at yourself. You’re gorgeous—and you’re not married. Not even attached.”

“How do you know I’m not attached?”

“Because if you were, you wouldn’t be staring at me like you want to kiss me,” she said.

Rogan gasped. “I do not—”

“Oh, come now. You’re most definitely flirting with me. You touch me every opportunity you get.” She nodded at his hand resting on her leg, his fingers in hers. “See there? So tell me all your secrets.”

Rogan downed his whiskey, then motioned for another. He’d never met a woman like Claudia, a woman who said exactly what was on her mind the moment it occurred to her. He was used to expending all his energy trying to figure out the opposite sex. Women never said exactly what they meant, they were always playing some sort of game.

Maybe that was why he’d been reluctant to make a romantic commitment. How could a guy trust his heart to a woman when he couldn’t be sure when she was telling the truth and when she was lying? “I don’t have any secrets,” Rogan said. “Maybe we should talk about tomorrow’s itinerary.”

“Classic avoidance,” she said.

“I’m doing my job,” he countered.

“I’m sure everything will go exactly as planned.”

“You can’t plan for every eventuality, Dr. Mathison. I—”

“You should call me Claudia,” she interrupted. “Unless you deliberately want to maintain a distance between us. Which doesn’t seem to be the case since you’re still touching me.”

Rogan looked down to find his fingers still tangled in hers. Hell, he hadn’t even realized what he was doing. He gently pulled his hand away.

“I might change our plan a bit,” he said. “I don’t want to stress the group out too much on the first day.”

“It was a certified disaster today, wasn’t it?” she muttered. “I should have planned better. But it was just like a— What do you call that when snow slides down the side of a hill and—”

“Avalanche?”

“Yes! An avalanche. It started small and it just got bigger and bigger until I couldn’t seem to stop it. Avalanche. Why couldn’t I remember that word?”

“You’re exhausted. Your brain isn’t functioning at full capacity. And you’re working on your third martini.”

“I require very little sleep,” she informed him.

Jaysus, she was a quirky little thing, Rogan mused, suppressing a smile. “Yes, you mentioned that on the phone.”

“I know I can be a pain in the arse,” Claudia said. “And I’m sorry if I was overly demanding. I could tell you were irritated, but it always pays to be prepared. I like to be prepared. You can appreciate that, can’t you?”

“I can,” Rogan agreed. “But then, there is something to be said for spontaneity. Interesting things happen when you don’t plan for them.”

“I suppose so,” Claudia said. “I didn’t expect you to be so attractive. I didn’t plan on that.”

He chuckled softly. “What did you expect?”

“Someone older. Rougher around the edges. More commanding.”

“I’m not commanding?” Rogan asked.

“No. I mean, you’re obviously very competent. But I’d call you affable. Yes, that’s it. You’re affable.”

Was that really her first impression? Rogan wondered. Women were usually much more taken by his charm and devastating good looks. Or so they said. “And you’re drunk,” he said.

“Maybe,” Claudia admitted. “Just a little. But you’ll still be affable in the morning.”

For some reason, the sentiment seemed to amuse her and she got caught up in a long fit of giggles. Rogan found her loss of control just as endearing as her joke and he joined her until they were both giddy and breathless. Claudia took a deep breath. “I feel better now,” she said.

“Better than having a good cry?” he asked.

“Much better.”

“Come on then,” he said. “I’ve got you a room. You can finish your drink there. That way, if you pass out, you’ll already be in bed.”

He picked up her glass and waited while she got to her feet. Her bag was still sitting next to the stool. “Can you have someone bring her bag up to room 1114?” he asked the bartender.

“I can get my own bag,” Claudia protested. “I’m not that drunk.” She bent down to pick it up but had to reach out to balance herself on the back of the stool. “Then again, maybe I am.”

“Come on, Doc. Just put one foot in front of the other. The lift isn’t that far.”

“You are a very good guide,” Claudia said, waving her finger at him.

It took a bit of time for her to balance her purse and her bag, but then she took off at an amazingly brisk pace, her shoes clicking smartly against the marble floor as he followed. When they got to the lift, she pushed the button and stared at the lights above the door. He stood behind her, wondering what was going through her head.

Rogan knew exactly was going through his mind. His gazed drifted down to her bum and he contemplated the curves beneath the unfaded denim jeans. By appearances, she seemed to be the model of perfection, right down to her painted fingernails. But he got the sense that the prim and proper exterior was hiding a mess of contradictions on the inside.

He’d always heard that about shrinks, that they were usually more crazy than their patients. She’d been crazy enough to try to get five of her phobic patients on a plane together and fly them all to New Zealand, and crazy enough to plan this trip.

But though it was probably going to be a hellish week for him, he relished the chance to get to know her a little better.

Rogan had always been attracted to “easy” girls. Those who didn’t fuss over their appearance and who were ready to surf or bike or hike at a moment’s notice. That was obviously not Claudia Mathison. She was a planner, the kind of woman he usually found irritating. And yet, he found himself strangely attracted to her. Or maybe it wasn’t attraction, but curiosity.

Still, he’d be wise to temper the attraction with a healthy dose of suspicion. She wanted to analyze him, and he wasn’t about to bare his soul to a stranger, even if she was a beautiful, sexy, intriguing woman.

Revealing his insecurities and vulnerabilities wouldn’t do either one of them any good. She’d see him as flawed and he’d be constantly on edge, waiting for her to use the information against him. Hell, he hadn’t even revealed his innermost fears to his own brothers, and they were the two people he trusted most in the world.

Then again, maybe that was why he’d never fallen in love. He’d never trusted a woman enough to let her get close...really close. That kind of trust was a double-edged sword. It could open up a person to love but it could also destroy him in a single blow. Look what had happened to his mother. No, he’d keep his heart to himself.

But her challenge did intrigue him. He was sure he could get the good doctor to loosen up—without revealing any of his secrets.

The lift doors opened and she stumbled inside. Rogan followed her and they stood together as the door closed. She was closest to the control panel and he waited for her to push the button for the eleventh floor.

He smiled to himself. She’d fixed her gaze on the lights above the door again, her pretty face crunched into a frown. “This lift is broken,” she finally said. “It’s not moving. Or is it moving?” She leaned back against the wall. “Maybe I’m the one that’s moving.”

Rogan leaned across her and pushed the button. “I fixed it.”

As they rode up, he closed his eyes for a moment, drawing a deep breath and taking in the scent of her perfume. He usually didn’t care for perfume, but right now, his senses seemed to be operating in overdrive. Everything about her was much more tantalizing than it should be. By the time they reached her room, Rogan was already wondering what it might be like to kiss her.

She had an amazing mouth, wide and expressive, with lips the color of ripe berries. He knew the unwritten rule that a guide should never seduce a client. But Claudia really wasn’t a client. He wasn’t guiding her, he was guiding her patients. And so was she. By all accounts, they were coworkers. At least, that was the story he was telling himself.

He pulled her keycard out of his jacket pocket and handed it to her, but she struggled to make it work. Rogan reached for it, but she brushed him off. “I can certainly get the door open,” she said.

She made an amusing spectacle, her dark hair tumbling around her face, her color high. Each attempt was followed by a soft curse. “Not so quick,” he advised. “And wait for the light to go green before you pull it back out.” Claudia gave it a few more tries before she reluctantly handed the card to him. “You do it.”

He reached around her and unlocked the door, then pushed it open. “After you.”

Claudia turned and stood in the doorway, blocking his entrance. “Thank you for everything you did. I appreciate your...efficiency.”

He held out her drink. “Well, good night then.”

She reached out for it, but miscalculated and ended up knocking the glass into his chest. The vodka sloshed onto his shirt and she reached out to wipe it away. Rogan captured her hand with his and pressed it against his chest, her delicate fingers splaying over the damp fabric of his shirt. His pulse quickened and his heart pounded against her palm.

“Can I ask you a question?” she murmured.

She raised her gaze to his and he fought the urges coursing through him. “Sure,” he said.

“If you’re thinking about kissing me, what’s stopping you?”

Was that an invitation? Or a rhetorical question? He wasn’t sure. But the scent of her hair and the sight of her lush, damp mouth was too much to resist.

At the same time, she was drunk and he wasn’t about to do something that she’d regret the next morning. He bent closer and brushed his lips against her warm cheek.

When he drew back, her green eyes were wide with surprise, her lips parted as if she were about to say something. He fought the urge to take things a step further. Then she threw her arms around his neck and took the decision out of his hands.

Her lips were soft and damp, and as the kiss spun out of control, Rogan smoothed his hands around her waist and drew her closer. So much for him loosening her up. She seemed more than willing to live in the moment, and this moment was surprisingly powerful.

A flood of desire surged inside him, the anticipation acute. And yet, he couldn’t act on it; given her condition, it would be best to make a quick retreat.

He drew away, and before she had a chance to kiss him again or invite him inside, he gently pushed her farther into the room. “Good night, Claudia,” he said, grabbing the door. “I’ll see you in the morning.”

He turned and stepped into the hallway, closing the door behind him. As he strode toward the lift, Rogan reviewed his last move in his mind. There was an obvious attraction between him and Claudia that couldn’t be denied. But how far was she willing to go to explore it? Once sober, would she shut him down with some excuse about professional behavior? Or would she let down her hair and indulge?

He was a good guide, and he could handle whatever her patients threw his way. But Claudia was a different matter. She seemed to put him off his game, to jumble this thoughts and tease his desire. And with so much riding on the success of this trip, could he risk adding seduction to the adventure?

But was it a risk? After all, he was a master at separating sex from emotion. It wouldn’t be any different with Claudia Mathison.

2

CLAUDIA WOKE TO a sharp rap at her hotel room door. She pushed up from the pillows and groaned, realizing that she’d slept in her clothes the night before. Squinting, she tried to make out the time, then cried out when she saw it was already past noon. She hadn’t overslept in years. The latest she allowed herself to linger in bed was 8:00 a.m., and that was only on Sundays.

She scrambled out of bed but her legs got tangled in the sheets and she lurched toward the door, her head pounding. When she pulled it open, she found Rogan standing in the hallway. “Why didn’t you wake me earlier? What’s going on? Where is everyone?”

“We’re waiting downstairs. Did you just wake up?”

“Of course, I just woke up,” she said. “If I’d been awake earlier, I would have been downstairs on time.”

“You’re wearing the same clothes you were wearing last night.”

Leave it to Rogan Quinn to state the obvious. “It’s your fault. You gave me that last drink.” She strode to the bed and began to gather her things. Then she stopped.

The events of the previous evening came flooding back into her mind. Their conversation. The way he’d touched her. The kiss. Warmth rose in her cheeks.

“I apologize, that was unfair. I was feeling sorry for myself and I drank too much. You’re not in any way culpable.”

“Thank you,” Rogan said, glancing around the room. He reached down and picked up an empty bag of crisps. “What did you do, raid the minibar?”

“I was hungry.” She stopped. “Before I go any further, I have something to say. I seem to recall that I kissed you last night. And I want to apologize if I compromised your professional integrity by doing that. I meant no disrespect.”

“We both participated in that kiss,” Rogan said. “And it was quite enjoyable, as I recall. Didn’t you like it?”

Claudia rubbed the sleep out of her eyes. “Of course, I— Yes, it was quite lovely.”

She sank down on the edge of the bed, a sudden wave of dizziness overwhelming her. Rogan had kissed her—or she had kissed him. The particulars really didn’t matter. Though it had been just a brief indulgence, it had been deliciously intriguing. So intriguing that she’d spent a good hour afterward stuffing herself with snacks from the minibar as she tried, with her martini-muddled mind, to analyze exactly what had transpired between them.

“Are you all right?” he asked.

Her stomach roiled, and for a second she thought she might be sick. Then, an instant later, she knew she was going to be sick. “Excuse me,” she muttered as she raced to the bathroom.

The humiliation was almost more than she could bear, but there was no stopping the symptoms of a hangover. When she’d finally finished retching, she glanced up to find him watching her from the doorway of the bathroom. Claudia covered her face with her hands. “Go away!” she cried.

She heard the water running and then he was there, sitting next to her on the floor. He pressed the cool cloth to her forehead. “You look quite lovely this morning,” he said.

Claudia managed a quick laugh. “Oh, I feel lovely,” she replied, her voice filled with sarcasm. She tried to get up, but it was too much effort so she leaned back against the side of the bathtub. “I really didn’t mean what I said,” she murmured. “You’ve really been quite wonderful. And I’ve been an utter mess. You must think I’m a first-class loon.”

“No, I think you’re quite wonderful, as well,” Rogan said.

“I can take the truth,” Claudia said. “I specialize in the truth.”

“I’ve noticed that about you,” Rogan said. “You always say exactly what’s on your mind. I like that about you.” He smoothed the cloth over her cheeks and lips. “So tell me the truth,” he said.

“About what?”

“Would you like to kiss me again?”

She knew she ought to lie, to say that another kiss would be wholly inappropriate. And in a corner of her soul, she realized it could only lead to disaster. Her whole career rested on her reputation, and that meant she’d had to be scrupulous about her professional behavior.

And that was even more true now. If there was even a whiff of impropriety about her, it could jeopardize any thoughts of an academic career. If the hiring committee had even the slightest concern about her conduct, they could put her at the bottom of the list.

And yet, didn’t she deserve to have a personal life, one that included excitement and passion? How could she possibly convince her patients to live in the moment when she didn’t do the same?

If it was just about her, she might consider it. But her father was getting older and as time passed, he’d need even more help and financial support.

Claudia cursed herself inwardly for once again analyzing everything to death. It was just a kiss. It wasn’t as if she planned to jump into bed with him.

“If it’s taking you this long to answer, you must have reservations,” he murmured. “I take back the question.”

She had enjoyed kissing him. And she wanted to try it again just once—after she brushed her teeth two or three times, of course. “Yes,” Claudia said.

“You’d like to kiss me?”

“Yes, but not right now. Maybe later?”

“Later,” he said. “I can wait.”

“I need a bit of time,” she said, her gaze fixed on his. “I have to figure out how to handle you first.”

“I don’t need handling,” Rogan said. “I’m not one of your patients.” He reached over and hooked his finger beneath her chin, his eyes dropping to her lips. “I find myself strangely obsessed with your mouth. Is there a cure for that, Dr. Mathison?”

Claudia groaned inwardly. Did she possess the strength to resist him? Did she even want to attempt to maintain her distance? In all honesty, the trip was already a disaster and her career was probably already ruined. What could possibly make it worse?

When his gaze finally rose to her eyes, Claudia knew she was fighting a lost cause. She was in a weakened state, her confidence flagging, and when he turned his charm on her, she felt so much better about herself.

If one of her patients had said that to her, Claudia probably would have warned her off, explaining that she could become dependent on a man to validate her self-worth. But right now Claudia didn’t care. Rogan could validate all he wanted.

“I should probably go check on the group,” Rogan said. “After I told them what we were going to do today, they seemed a bit anxious.”

“What are we doing?” Claudia asked.

“I’ve arranged a kayaking trip down Puhoi River. It’s smooth water and just eight kilometers. Plus the tide pulls you along so it isn’t too difficult physically. And the scenery is beautiful. I think everyone will enjoy it.”

She groaned softly, the idea of spending the day on a boat causing another wave of nausea. “It sounds...lovely.”

“If you’d prefer to spend the afternoon here, you can join us later.”

“No, no,” Claudia said. “I want to come. I need to come. I have to be there to observe and evaluate.”

“All right. I’m going to give you a few minutes to get yourself together and we’ll be waiting for you in the lobby.” He got to his feet. “Are you sure you’re going to be all right?”

“Yes,” she said. “I’ll just grab a little something to eat and then I’ll be as good as new.”

“We have reservations for lunch at a local pub in another hour. Great food. You’ll love it.”

“You think of everything,” she said.

“That’s my job, Dr. Mathison.”

He left the bathroom and she listened for the room door to click shut behind him. She’d pictured this trip in her mind a thousand times since coming up with the plan, but she’d never imagined it would turn out like this. A rocky start, a sexy guide, a surprising kiss and a bad hangover. What was next?

“Certainly not sex,” she muttered to herself as she got to her feet. She caught sight of her reflection in the mirror. “Oh, bugger.” Her mascara was smudged beneath her eyes and her dark hair was a rat’s nest of tangles. She peered more closely at a brown streak on her chest, then realized it was melted chocolate. She must have eaten a candy bar before passing out last night.

“Well, you’ve created an excellent first impression.” Thank goodness her patients hadn’t seen her in this state. But Rogan had. He’d seen her at her absolute worst. Maybe that was for the best. A single kiss was one thing, but encouraging some kind of relationship with Rogan Quinn was ill-advised. She had a professional reputation to maintain and if she was mooning over the handsome guide, her group would surely notice.

Besides, where would it lead? Time after time, man after man, Claudia had managed to analyze herself out of every romantic relationship that came her way. She couldn’t seem to keep herself from picking apart every conversation, every simple gesture, every perceived problem until the relationship fell apart in front of her.

Though she’d tried to stop herself, she couldn’t. It was one of the downsides to her profession. She knew too well how the mind worked. Claudia groaned softly, bracing her hands on the edge of the counter.

But who’d said anything about a relationship? Here was a man with whom she couldn’t possibly have a future. He spent his days wandering the world, and she lived her life in an office in Sydney. If there ever was a time to indulge, this was it. It might even help give her more confidence in her work.

It felt wonderful to indulge in a bit of a flirtation and to have it reciprocated. And it didn’t have to end in bed, did it? They could kiss, they could touch and then, at the end of the week, they could part. It would be simple.

And she would maintain control, as Claudia always did in her personal relationships, never allowing herself to get too far ahead of the curve, never indulging in feelings that might never be reciprocated. It wouldn’t be any different with Rogan Quinn.

She quickly washed her face and brushed her teeth. Once she’d changed into fresh jeans and a comfortable cotton shirt, her outlook had improved considerably. And though she wanted to grab a shower, Claudia couldn’t expect the group to wait any longer.

Grabbing her bag, she hurried to the lift and then rode down to the lobby. To her surprise, the group was relaxing on the sofas and everyone seemed calm and happy. Rogan was sitting with them but as soon as he saw her, he stood.

“There she is,” he said.

“Sorry I’m late. Did you explain?”

“I told them you had an emergency call from back home.” Claudia appreciated the lie. “Is everything all right?”

She sent Rogan a grateful smile. “Everything is fine. Are we ready to go? I hear we have an interesting day ahead of us.”

As they walked to the van, she caught up with Rogan. “Thank you. I usually don’t lie to them, but in this case, I think it was justified.”

“No worries,” he said.

“So what’s the plan for tonight?”

“We are going to camp at the regional park at the end of our kayak trip. It’s a pretty tame spot, but it will be a good test. I’m going to teach everyone a few survival skills, we’ll make a camp meal and then I’m going to kiss you again. After that, my plans are pretty much up to you.”

“Have you told the group?”

“About the kiss? No, but I will if you want me to.”

“About your plans for them,” she said.

He grinned. “I have. And though they’d prefer to stay at the hotel, they’re ready for a challenge.”

“It’s a fine plan,” she said. “Carry on.”

The group had loaded their luggage into the back of the van. Rogan took her bag and tucked it into an empty spot, then he placed his hand on the small of her back as they waited for everyone to choose a seat. Claudia focused on the warmth of his hand, on the sensations caused by his touch, knowing it wasn’t just a polite gesture. He wanted to touch her, to kiss her, and he was just biding his time until they were alone again.

Her pulse quickened and all the effects of her hangover seemed to disappear. She felt energized and exhilarated. She was ready to spend the day repairing her reputation as a competent therapist and getting to watch Rogan in his element.

* * *

IT HAD BEEN years since Rogan had visited the quaint village of Puhoi. It wasn’t the kind of place that usually popped up on his guiding itinerary. Just a bit too civilized for him and his usual clients. But for Claudia’s patients, it was perfect. The town had been settled by Bohemian immigrants in the mid-1800s and retained much of its European charm.

The group enjoyed a lunch at the local pub, gathered around a long wooden table filled with food and drink. To Rogan’s surprise, they were quite at ease with each other, and he came to understand that they spent every Tuesday afternoon together in group therapy, working through their individual problems.