Gray Quinn's Baby(29)

A hollow no …



Magenta had almost walked past the store when she stopped dead and  retraced her footsteps. She stood in front of the window staring at the  dress in silence. It couldn't be. But it was. It was the same dress-the  identical dress. It was the flattering navy-blue shift dress Quinn had  bought for her in the dream. She stared at it, hesitating until her  heart rate reached danger point, and then she hurried towards the  entrance. She had to have it …

They'd sold out of her size.

It wasn't meant to be, Magenta told herself sensibly as the sales  assistant tried to persuade her to try on any number of alternatives.  'They're all lovely,' Magenta agreed politely. 'But not quite what I'm  looking for.' Not nearly.

But she should make some sort of special effort tonight, make a good  impression on Quinn for a change. She couldn't go out in the clothes  she'd worn all day at the office, so she chose something modest with a  twist. Minimal, loosely draped and delicately loose, it was a silk crêpe  dress in a shade of ice-blue that brought out the colour of her eyes.  Having thanked the woman for helping her choose, she made her way to the  exit. She was still short of a costume for the party tomorrow night-and  she didn't want to be predictable.

She was tired of predictable, Magenta mused as she hurried along the  brightly lit parade of shops. Tess was right, she did take herself too  seriously, and the party was everyone's chance to break out. Heading for  her favourite vintage shop, she ducked inside.                       
       
           



       

Well, that was certainly something different, Magenta thought a little  later, smiling triumphantly as she hugged the package containing her  prize purchase close to her chest. She doubted anyone else would have  thought of wearing the outfit she had chosen to a party.





CHAPTER NINETEEN




SHE arrived at the steak house exactly on time. Quinn did too, it turned  out. They walked up to each other at the entrance with a laugh. 'Shall  we skip the meeting?' Magenta suggested.

'Skip it why?' Quinn said as he held the door for her.

'I thought the purpose of this meeting was to help us to get to know  each other better so we read each other's minds-it seems we already do.'  Magenta smiled as the maître d' came forward to take her coat.

'You look beautiful,' Quinn murmured.

She was glad she had gone to the trouble of buying a special dress. 'And  you look … ' Was this appropriate chat for a business meeting? But Quinn  did look incredible. With his thick, black hair as neatly groomed as it  could be, and wearing a crisp white shirt, plain dark trousers with a  heavy casual jacket, he looked tanned, vital, dark and amazing. She  wasn't the only woman in the restaurant to notice.

He held her arm as he ushered her towards a secluded booth. 'You've loosened up, Magenta.'

'Have I?' She raised an eyebrow as Quinn handed her a menu.

'Your eyes aren't shooting daggers at me.'

'I haven't done that for some time, surely?'

'Since I scared you with the motorbike.'

'You don't scare me-it does.'

'Lucky for you, I brought the car tonight.'

Something looped inside her like a video playing a scene from a film. 'The Aston Martin DB5?'

'You saw me drive up.' Quinn's cheek creased as he grinned at her, and for a moment she was too startled to say a word.

'That's right,' she managed, telling herself the car was just some  ridiculous coincidence. 'But who said you were taking me home?'

'Would a gentleman allow a lady to take a cab late at night?'

No. And if she attempted to go anywhere on her own she guessed Quinn  would follow her at a discreet distance until he was sure she was safe.  'But it's early,' she pointed out, glancing at her wristwatch. 'Our  meeting shouldn't take more than an hour, so I'll be quite safe going  home on the bus.'

'You could,' Quinn agreed mildly, appearing to be intent on the menu.  'Steak small, medium or large? Well-cooked or bloody? Sauce, no sauce?'

'Fillet, medium, grilled, with salad, no sauce.'

'We'll take two of those,' he told the waiter. 'And some wine, beer?'

'Water-fizzy.'

'Done.'

It was all so normal suddenly between them, without a hint of mystery or  magic to raise a single awkward question in her mind. She had to stop  with the imagination. She wasn't at work now, thinking up some  far-fetched ad campaign; she should be concentrating on the here and now  and forget about what might have been in a dream.

'What's this?' Magenta said half way through her delicious, crunchy  pudding of lemon-meringue pie and vanilla ice-cream when the wine waiter  produced a bottle of champagne and opened it for them.

'A celebration?' Quinn suggested dryly. 'My guess is you've been too  busy working even to think about celebrating the fact that Steele Design  has a new lease of life-largely thanks to your efforts.'

'And your money,' she pointed out.

'I hope I have some skills to bring to bear too.'

'That's why I went after you.' Magenta blushed as she had a flashback to  her dream. She pushed it aside. They were professionals; of course he  meant business skills.

'Are you saying there's a possibility we might make a good team?' Quinn's lips pressed down attractively.

'Why not?' She held his gaze as the waiter served their champagne.

'To the future of Steele Design,' Quinn said, raising his glass.

'I'll drink to that.'

'I'll handle the business side of things, keep all the aggravation out of your hair, while you handle the ideas.'

'Sounds like a dream team to me.'

Realising what she had said, Magenta froze. She felt like a computer  stalling when it couldn't handle an input overload, but Quinn didn't  miss a beat. 'To the dream team,' he said mildly, chinking glasses with  her.

She didn't fight him when Quinn suggested taking her home in his car. It  was even colder when they got outside, and there were little flurries  of snow in the air. Quinn settled her inside the strangely familiar  interior and even helped her to secure her seat belt when he got in.  That felt good: twenty-first-century man with old-world manners. It  didn't come much better, in fact.                       
       
           



       

They continued to talk about the business, but there was always  something left unsaid between them, Magenta felt, so she said it.  'Quinn, do you dream?'

'Doesn't everyone?' He turned right onto the main road, confidently negotiating the steady buzz of traffic.

'I'm talking about the dreams we have when we're asleep. I know everyone  dreams during the day, but you're in control of that.' Quinn glanced at  her and she could see she'd got his attention. 'You only have to think  of something you want, if you want to dream when you're awake, and  before you know it you're weaving a whole fantastic drama round it.'

'Is that right?' Quinn said dryly.

'You know it is,' she said, feeling a throb of warmth as their eyes met  briefly. 'What I'm talking about are dreams beyond our control, like the  ones we have at night. Dreams that creep up on us and take everything  in a new direction-a direction we could never have dreamed of.' She  laughed. 'If that makes sense?'

'It makes perfect sense to me.'

Was Quinn teasing her? It was impossible to tell. 'Do you have dreams  like that, Quinn? Dreams that make a weird kind of sense even though you  know they could never happen?'

'Like a parallel life that seems to be reality?' he suggested, sending a shiver down Magenta's spine. 'Sometimes.'

He drew up outside her door, leaving no more time for questions-unless  she invited him inside. The light was glowing in the window. It looked  welcoming, and she was glad she had left it on. Prepared for a  knock-back, she decided to risk it. 'Coffee?'

Just as she expected, Quinn looked at her and shook his head. 'I only drink Blue Mountain.'

It was as if she had received an electric shock, but she controlled it.  'Lucky for you, that's the only brand I drink.' Her face relaxed into a  smile. Everything warmed up inside her-or at least those parts of her  that were already overheated, thanks to the Quinn effect, just heated up  some more. 'Shall we?'

Quinn released her seat belt. His face was very close and his mouth was  just a whisper away. How she wanted him. He could just turn and kiss  her-brush her lips …

She'd settle for that, Magenta told herself, only to see Quinn curb a grin. 'You think I'm funny?'

'I think you mentioned coffee.'

'I did,' she agreed.

Coming round to her side of the car, Quinn opened the door for her and helped her out.

I could get used to this, Magenta thought. This too, she realised as  Quinn put his arm around her shoulders and drew her close to keep her  warm.

'Let me,' he said when she took out her key.

He opened the door, stood back to allow her to precede him and then followed, shutting the door behind them.

This wasn't supposed to happen, Magenta thought as Quinn shucked her  coat off in one sweeping move. She wasn't supposed to tear his jacket  from his shoulders and rip at his shirt buttons like a loved-crazed  hussy. And Quinn wasn't supposed to kiss her as if they'd known each  other longer than for ever and had been apart for far too long. They  grappled with each other as if no amount of kissing or embracing would  ever be enough for them and as if any future parting, however short that  parting might be, was unthinkable.