She smiled and joined him, resting her head against his back and wrapping her arms around him.
“What happens now?” he asked, closing his fingers over hers.
She kissed his shoulder. “I write a different article from the original one I had planned. No shocking expose or dirt. I told my editor so yesterday.”
“That’s not what I mean.” He pulled her around in front of him, gazing at her with narrowed eyes. “What about us? After what we shared last night, you can’t leave as if nothing ever happened.”
“I don’t know….” She hugged her waist. “I need to think and then—”
“Then what? I don’t hear from you for another decade or so?” He dropped his mug on the patio table and seized her by her upper arms, his expression intent, jaw set. “Don’t leave. What we did last night, even with Woody involved, wasn’t a vacation fling you can remember fondly when you’re old and gray. Stay with me here and let’s build a future together.”
“What would I do for a job? What if it doesn’t work out between us? Why don’t you move to Vegas to be with me?” I would feel so much safer on my own turf. Moving here is a huge risk, giving up everything….
He let go of her arms. “I have an important job. People count on me. I’ve worked hard to get where I am and I can’t walk away from it for—”
“Some flaky blonde you slept with in college and then had a hot and heavy encounter with years later? What about my work and all my accomplishments? Shouldn’t they count for something?”
He stared past her shoulder, his mouth tight, his eyes cool. She glanced at the house, at a loss for words. Woody appeared in the open doorway with only a towel around his hips. He remained inside, concern etched on his features.
Okay then. I guess it’s my call. “I was planning on leaving tomorrow, but I think I’m going to try and catch an earlier flight tonight.” She took a step away. He stared at his feet. “If you don’t come and see me before this evening, then I’ll know we have nothing more to discuss or want from one another.”
He whispered her name, then nothing more. She waited, but when he didn’t speak up or rush over to her, she moved away. She shrugged off Woody’s sympathetic stare and ran into the bedroom. Finally, tears held at bay, she returned to the kitchen, bracing herself for an argument with Quinn. Woody sat at the table, fully dressed…and alone.
“Quinn had to leave, something about an appointment,” he said.
She nodded and she asked him to take her back to the resort. After a silent ride, she thanked him for an interesting time and he told her not to be a stranger. She then spoke to the concierge, asking about booking the earliest flight out of Grand Turk.
She cried all the way to the airport. She had lost her heart to Quinn, who had gotten his revenge by breaking it in two just like she had done to his so long ago.
Chapter Eight
“I always did like the view better from your office.” Jagger sauntered over to the window.
“Your view is pretty amazing, too. Not the same in A.C.?”
“The Jersey shore is not my thing.” Jagger crossed his arms and stared at him.
“What?” Quinn wiped a palm over his face, weary beyond measure.
“You need caffeine. I’ll treat you to a cup of java. We haven’t had much time to talk since I returned three weeks ago.”
He nodded and stood. Jagger had never brought up again what happened between him and Carly in his office. Quinn’s chest stung as thoughts of her filled his head. He dreamed of her every night and woke up moaning her name.
They took the elevator down to the first level. As their coffee arrived, Jagger asked him the question he’d been dreading. “So your romance with Miss Kimball ended badly?”
He took a big gulp and burned the roof of his mouth. Wincing, he considered his reply. “No. It was a fling and nothing more.”
“Oh really?” Jagger gave him a disbelieving look. “The security video makes me think otherwise.”
He tapped the front of his teeth. If Jagger was anyone else, he’d tell him to go to hell.
“Madame Eve’s matchups usually go better than this. But I don’t think she’ll be disappointed.”
Quinn was stunned. “What are you talking about?”
“You never figured it out? Didn’t I tell you Miss Kimball was here investigating 1Night Stand?”
“Right, but she also scheduled a date?”
Jagger nodded. “That was her cover.”
“But she—”
“Anyway, the linguistics doesn’t matter. I’ll let Eve know it didn’t work out according to her plans.” Jagger shrugged. “Highly unlike her.”