Page 7 of A Talent for Temptation
He would take comfort in her clear surprise, except it might only mean she hadn’t yet acknowledged to herself how she felt. He’d have to force her to do so. He had to know.
Just tell her you love her.
And have her pity him for it if she loved someone else? No thank you.
“Quinn, answer me! Whom do you think I love?”
He braced himself. “Fulkham.”
Two
Meriel blinked, then burst into laughter. The man was jealous, of all things! It practically made her giddy. It didn’t change her reasons for not marrying him, but . . .
Well, perhaps it changed them alittle. It gave her a measure of hope she hadn’t had before—that he might really care for her.
She certainly cared forhim. Her feelings for Quinn were entirely different from the affection she’d felt for John. Her husband had been rather like an overgrown boy, always frightening her by leaping into danger.
Quinn was aman. She could rely on him to do what he said and be what he was. There was no subterfuge, no secrets. And nothing was more devastatingly attractive than that.
Couldn’t he tell how she felt about him? Here she was, caressing his magnificent chest and wondering what the rest of his body looked like, and he was worried she was in love with Gregory, of all people.
The very thought made her laugh again.
“It’s not funny,” Quinn grumbled as he caught her hand.
She forced a sober expression to her face. “No, indeed. Not funny at all. Except for the fact that I’m not remotely interested in marrying my brother-in-law, even if I could, which I can’t.”
“There are ways to get around the church’s rules.”
“Perhaps, but I wouldn’t. And trust me, Gregory wouldn’t marrymein a million years.”
“That doesn’t mean you aren’t in love with him,” he persisted, his dark eyes shadowed. “Even if you feel the situation is hopeless, you might not be able to help desiring the man.”
“I don’t desire Gregory, for pity’s sake,” she said, growing irritated now. “He reallyislike a brother to me. We squabble like siblings, we aren’t the least attracted to each other, and—”
“You’re not attracted to him?” Quinn asked. “At all?”
Thatwouldbe what he focused on. He was a man, after all.
Her gaze drifted over him. He was a very finely crafted man, too, judging from the well-defined muscles and lovely sprinkling of dark curls on his chest. Not to mention the pronounced bulge in his trousers.
Well, well. He’d clearly forgotten all about his knife wound.
With a burst of feminine satisfaction that she could so easily arouse him, she dropped her hand to cover him there. “Would I touch you like this if I were pining after Gregory?”
He hissed through his teeth and hardened even more beneath her hand. “Perhaps you’re just trying to distract me—again—from discussing marriage.”
“No,” she said, though he was partly right. “I’m trying to distract you from discussing Gregory. Whom I don’t love or desire at all, and never have—just to be clear.”
She started to unbutton Quinn’s trousers, but he caught her hands. When she lifted an eyebrow at him, he stared at her with a grim determination that worried her.
“Why are you always dashing off to do his bidding, then?” he asked.
Oh, dear. This was veering into difficult territory. “Why does it matter? I already told you I have no designs on him. Why isn’t that enough for you?”
“Because you’ve given me no other sound reason for your avoiding the subject of marriage.”
“Fine,” she snapped. “Here’s a perfectly sound reason: If you knew more about me, you’d never want to marry me.”
