Page 56 of Quinn, By Design

“He asked me about our restorer. Not for the first time. And you want to repay your brother as quickly as possible.” Her words of explanation tumbled over each other, an apology when she wasn’t sure how she’d sinned.

“Yeah, I do.” He’d loosened his tie on the drive home from her gala, now he discarded it. “But I’ve got that covered.”

“You could have said no.” She pulled the dress off her shoulders and stepped out of it. Her pretty bra and pants had sprigs of green leaves embroidered on them. She looked as vulnerable as she had when she’d first shown up on his doorstep, and like then, he couldn’t fault her conclusions.

“Bradley implied no wasn’t an option.” Niall unbuttoned his shirt, his heart hammering in his chest when she slipped off her stilettos, then set her foot on a stool and bent to unclip the suspenders she was wearing.

“That was naughty of him.” She glanced up, one silk stocking halfway down her calf, and his mouth watered. “I said I’d introduce you.”

“And that I had time free.”Praise the saints. He must be mad to be belabouring the point when she smelled like heaven, looked like every fantasy he’d ever had, and was within reach. Tonight he’d take the time they hadn’t had in the last fortnight to draw out their pleasure.

“I might have.” Her brow wrinkled in thought. “Although, I’m more likely to have said you were finishing a contract and might consider the right offer.”

“He mentioned being in a position to promote the foundation.”And I’m worse than a dog with a bone.

She chuckled. “He’s hoping our mentee gets hooked on antiques in year one and abandons all other dreams.”

“I’m meeting Bradley tomorrow night.” He’d misunderstood and over-reacted, and he was an ungrateful bastard when she’d thought she was doing him a good turn. She hadn’t pledged his time—the banker had finessed him.

She shook out her second stocking and laid it over a chair. “Would you like to help me get rid of the rest of these clothes?”

“If you help me first.”

“Did I thank you for coming tonight?” She unbuckled his belt, sliding her hand inside his trousers to cup his balls.

“I think you’re about to.” He tilted her chin to kiss her. Her soft lips moved against his, her mouth opened in welcome, and the angst of the evening faded. He couldn’t parse all the elements in her kisses: sweetness, hunger, caring. She was strong, but her vulnerability called to him. She made him feel as if together they were whole. “This is lovely. You’re lovely.”

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Much later, she curledaround him, her cheek resting against Niall’s heart. By inches, by cup of tea, sandwich, shared meal, shared conversation, exchanged smile, she’d become the keeper of his heart.

“Your deal with Peter has nothing to do with me.” Her leg rested across his thighs. “You decide your rate, and Peter pays you.”

“Uh-huh.” He stroked her back, liking the clean lines of her, the straight spine, the still too prominent shoulder blades, and he’d worry about juggling Peter with her bookcases tomorrow.

“Hold off on my bookcases,” she said sleepily. “They can wait.”

No, they can’t. He’d given his word and wasn’t about to add a new debt to his growing list. Fourteen Mondays he’d promised her, six left.

“And in the spirit of checking first”—she yawned and tucked herself under his shoulder—“I do have some other contacts if, and only if, you decide you want more work.”

She thought his biggest problem was the debt to his brother and had seen a way to help him pay it back sooner. His fault for not sharing all the interlocking pieces of his financial plan, including the exhibition. Initially, he hadn’t told her about it, because he didn’t expect to fall for her, to become so caught up in helping her, being with her, that it threatened his goals.

Then he hadn’t told her, because she’d feel guilty for taking him away from his work. And while Cam had backed him into a corner with the bequest, she was innocent. He wouldn’t tell her now, because she’d blame herself for him cancelling it. She wasn’t responsible for his decisions. He was a grown man. A “consenting adult,” as Anna would have it.

Tonight, he’d consented his way right out of his exhibition.

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