Table of Contents

Cover Page

Excerpt

About the Author

Title Page

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

Copyright

“Do you expect an apology?”

He was so blatant in his judgment, she had to laugh. “I wouldn’t hold my breath.”

Quinn nodded and smiled to himself, then took her completely by surprise. One long-fingered hand reached out to cup her chin. Her eyes widened as danger signals went off in her head, urging her to move.

But he outmaneuvered her, and instead of brushing his hand away, her fingers closed about his wrist and held on as a delicious, tingling warmth began to expand from the spot. Her brain seemed to grow sluggish, and her eyelids grew so heavy, it took all her energy to stop them from closing. They fluttered. “You’re very good,” he said quietly, and it took a second or two for his meaning to sink in.

Discovering a talent for acting she had previously been unaware of, Laura pulled away. “If you aren’t going to buy, don’t touch the merchandise!”

AMANDA BROWNING still lives in the Essex house where she was born. The third daughter of four children—her sister being her twin—she enjoyed the rough-and-tumble of life with two brothers as much as she did reading books. Writing came naturally as an outlet for a fertile imagination. The love of books led her to a career in libraries, and being single allowed her to take the leap into writing for a living. Success is still something of a wonder, but allows her to indulge in hobbies as varied as embroidery and birdwatching.

A Christmas Seduction
Amanda Browning

www.millsandboon.co.uk

CHAPTER ONE

From the moment Laura Maclane met Quinn Mannion, a state of war would exist between them. Not that she knew it that rain-lashed Friday night, as she paid off the taxi and made a dash for the door of the building where Jonathan Ames had his law practice. Jonathan had been Alexander Harrington’s lawyer and was the only living soul, apart from herself, who knew about his relationship with her mother, and her own relationship to him. The world at large was still speculating about it but, as yet, nobody had come close to the truth, which was that she was Alexander Harrington’s natural daughter.

Laura had never known her father’s name. She had had no idea who he was until her mother had died of cancer, leaving instructions that Laura was to inform Alexander Harrington of her death. He had realised at once who she was, but his quite understandable shock had quickly been surpassed by his obvious pleasure. It had been Laura herself who had doubted his claim to parentage, but a blood test had proved he was right. She had the same rare blood group as himself. She was his daughter.

She had known very little about the affair which had brought about her existence. Her mother had never revealed any details. From Alexander she had learned that he and her mother had met at university and fallen in love. They had lived together for a while, but then Alexander’s father had died and he had had to return home. There had been problems, and one thing had led to another. He never did go back, and had never seen her mother again. She, for whatever reason, had kept her pregnancy to herself. He had married and raised a family, never knowing he had another child.

Blame was not something Alexander had cared to apportion. He had accepted that he had treated her mother badly, and that withholding knowledge of his child had been her revenge. Fault lay on both sides, but it was in the past. He knew about his daughter now, and he was determined to make up for lost time.

They had spent as much time as they could together over the next few months, getting to know each other. Alexander’s wealth and position in life had taken some getting used to, but not for a second had she been envious of it. If she envied anything at all, it was the family she did not know. She had never pushed him to introduce her to her half-brother and sister, though she longed to meet them. Being an only child had been very lonely at times. Alexander, however, had been determined that she should become part of the family one day. The difficulty was telling his wife. She was unaware of her husband’s brief affair almost thirty years ago. It was bound to come as a shock, and he wanted to minimise it because Maxine Harrington had a serious heart problem. He would have to pick his time carefully.

Until then they had tried to be discreet, but somehow the ever vigilant press had found out about their meetings. The next thing Laura had known, her picture had appeared in the society gossip columns above a caption asking who was this woman who was constantly seen with the wealthy financier Alexander Harrington? Speculation had been rife. Knowing it would only be a matter of time before somebody actually claimed they must be lovers, Alexander had decided he must act. However, before he had been able to put the facts right, he had suffered a massive stroke from which he’d never recovered. He had died a few days later, at the age of fifty-one.

That might have been the end of it, except for Alexander’s will. Laura had been astounded to discover that he had left her a very great deal of money. When the press got hold of that little snippet, she had been described in various unkind ways, not the least of which was gold-digger. As if she had somehow known he was going to die so suddenly! Sadly, she had accepted it was impossible to put the matter right, at least in the eyes of the press and society. For one thing, nobody would accept a denial at this late stage. For another, she had promised Alexander she would say nothing of their true relationship until he had broken it to his family.

Stymied, that was how things stood several months later. She still secretly hoped to be able to meet her family one day. She just didn’t know how to bring it about.

To this day, only Jonathan knew the truth. Because of it, she considered him her best friend. Sometimes it seemed he was her only friend, she thought wryly, brushing droplets of rain off her coat before stepping into the building.

At this time of night the foyer was quiet, and she headed for the bank of elevators to the echoing sound of her own footsteps. She stepped into the nearest and pressed the button for the third floor. The system was old and cranky and progress was slow, and Laura used the time to take a quick glance at her reflection in the mirror, to check for any damage the rain might have caused. There was very little.

Her blonde hair curled under in a shining bob to just below her ears. It made her heart-shaped face appear all the more fragile. Her grey eyes, with their long lashes, stared back at her doe-like, whilst her surprisingly full mouth was curved in a faint smile. Beneath her woollen coat, the soft curves of her body and the length of her legs were shown to perfection by the lines of her black cocktail dress and stiletto shoes.

She looked good for a twenty-eight-year-old interior designer, she decided, and instantly pulled a wry face. As she had overheard one doyenne of society say only recently, what woman wouldn’t, given a fortune to spend in only the best stores?

It was a pretty universal assumption. Any money she had must have come from her ‘liaison’. Society matrons ignored the fact that she and her friend Anya Kovacs ran a successful interior design business, which they patronised. In the beginning Laura had feared the worst for their combined welfare but, far from slumping through the supposed scandal, business had boomed. The reason had soon become clear; everyone had hoped to be able to glean some titbit of gossip from her. They had been unlucky. Laura had gritted her teeth and refused to utter a word. Some custom had eventually fallen off, but not to the extent she had expected. What clientele remained was loyal because they produced good work.

The elevator came to a stop and, stepping out of it, she turned left towards Jonathan’s office. Light glowed beneath the door and she sighed. He was brilliant at his job but, when he was working on a case, he had a head like a sieve about more mundane things. For instance, tonight he was supposed to have picked her up an hour ago for the opening of a new art exhibition, and then they were to have gone on to dinner. She really should have phoned him earlier, but she had assumed he would remember. More fool her.

Pushing open the door, she discovered Jonathan exactly where she expected, bent over his desk, lost in the depths of a file. His brown hair was endearingly tousled, as if he had raked it constantly, and a cup of cold coffee sat by his elbow with a dehydrated jelly doughnut.

‘I thought I’d find you here!’ Laura exclaimed wryly, and he looked up with a start.

‘Laura? What on earth.?’ Jonathan gasped in surprise, then his eyes made a quick inspection of her and she saw light Dawn. Clapping a hand to his head, he rose to his feet and came round the desk to her, his expression ruefully apologetic. ‘Oh, Lord, I’m sorry. We were supposed to be going to the opening, weren’t we?’ He kissed her cheek and Laura sighed.

‘We were,’ she confirmed as she raised her hand to brush his hair off his forehead. ‘Honestly, you’re hopeless. What happened this time?’

‘I’m afraid I happened.’ A strange voice, rich and slightly husky, broke into their conversation, and it was her turn to jump. She turned towards the voice, but its owner stood in the doorway of Jonathan’s private washroom, and the light coming from behind made him little more than a large silhouette.

‘Who are you?’ she asked more sharply than she intended, and behind her Jonathan shifted uneasily.

‘Oh, hell, it had to happen some time, I guess,’ he said heavily, and made the introduction. ‘This is Quinn.’

Laura went absolutely still, ‘Did you say Quinn?’ she asked, though she had heard well enough.

‘Uh-huh’

Laura had heard a great deal about Alexander’s godson, Quinn Mannion. Mentally she recapped what she knew. He was thirty-six years old, a former investigative journalist who now wrote political thrillers which had put him on the top of the best-seller list countless times, and earned him millions of dollars. In the best tradition of novelists he lived in splendid isolation, somewhere on the coast of Maine. Over the years his name had been linked romantically with several women, but he had resisted the ties of marriage. She was curious to know what he looked like, and waited with bated breath as he stepped forward into the light of the desk lamp.

Laura’s eyes widened. This was Quinn Mannion?

She saw a tall, dark-haired man, broad-shouldered and lean-hipped, wearing a leather jacket over an Aran sweater and jeans he must have been poured into, they hugged his thighs so lovingly. He carried himself with an assurance and self-belief which was almost palpable. Her gaze skittered over his face. He was breathtakingly handsome, although there was nothing soft in it. In fact, the only feature to break the strong lines was a surprisingly sensual mouth. At least, that was what she thought until her eyes met a pair of intense blue ones and somehow got locked there.

They had to be the bluest eyes she had ever seen. The sort of eyes you could dive into and drown in with the greatest pleasure. Rimmed with long dark lashes, they should have been feminine, but weren’t. Everything simply made him look even more heart-stoppingly masculine. Quinn Mannion was pretty potent stuff, and deep inside her something elemental stirred. She became, in an instant, so supremely aware of him that every single nerve in her body came to life, tingling in a state of intense receptivity. She knew she would know he was in the same room as her even if she were blindfolded.

It was a disturbingly unfamiliar sensation for her. Whilst she had always appreciated an attractive man, she had never before been made quite so aware of another human being. Her heart gave a sudden lurch and sprinted away as she recognised what was happening; female recognising the male. This was sexual attraction at its rawest, and the strength of it caused her to breathe in sharply as her stomach clenched on a primitive wave of desire.

More than a little stunned, she remained transfixed, like a rabbit caught in the headlights of a car, as Quinn Mannion advanced on her with a darkling glint in his eye. He came to a halt mere feet away and stared down at her.

‘Well, well. As I live and breathe, Laura Maclane in the flesh. The newspaper pictures hardly do you justice,’ he drawled disdainfully.

It was a voice which, despite its unfriendliness, conjured up visions of rich dark chocolate. Sinful, luscious and infinitely addictive. Laura fought down a shiver of pure reaction to it.

‘Tell me, Laura. Are you enjoying the fruits of your labour?’

The unexpected question set her back on her heels momentarily. She had been prepared to offer a polite greeting for, in a roundabout way, this man was connected to her, but it took only those few words to make her realise there was to be no pretence of pleasantries from him. It wounded her, as all injustice did, but it angered her too. So that was how it was to be, she thought. Well, she could handle anything he cared to throw at her. For instance, that question wasn’t an idle one and, though she suspected she wouldn’t like the answer, she wasn’t about to avoid asking for clarification. She needed to know exactly where she stood with him.

‘Labour?’

Quinn’s eyes dropped to her mouth and traced the line of her lips with blatant suggestion, so that she had a pretty good idea of what he was going to say before he said it. “The hard work you put in between the sheets with a man old enough to be your father,’ he explained dispassionately, which made the remark all the more insulting.

‘Quinn!’ Jonathan stepped in warningly, frowning heavily at his friend, but Laura held up her hand. She didn’t need protecting, although the words stung. He had no idea how close to the truth he was.

‘It’s OK, Jonathan. Mr Mannion is saying no more than has been said behind my back. In fact, I give him credit for saying it to my face. The answer to your question is yes. I do enjoy the fruits of my labour,’ she confirmed with an unrepentant tilt to her head. Though he didn’t know it, she was referring to her business, not her supposed relationship with his godfather.

He did not care for her response. ‘I never expected you to be so honest,’ he retorted coldly, and she smiled with grim satisfaction. It was the first time she had ever been able to strike a blow for herself since Alexander’s death. She discovered that putting noses out of joint, especially this one, could give her quite a kick, and it had the double advantage of taking her mind off her reaction to him. His closeness was setting all her nerves at attention and, under the circumstances, that was treachery of the highest order.

‘Oh, I’m full of surprises,’ she retorted mockingly, finding it remarkably easy to slip into the character he thought her. For months she had had to hold her tongue, and the relief of verbal battle was quite heady. If he wanted a fight, she would give him one. In spades.

He smiled then, and he reminded her of nothing so much as a tiger—a very hungry one. ‘I just bet you are. As a matter of interest, just how did you manage to snare him? I would have expected someone of Alex’s intelligence to see you coming.’

Laura ground her teeth. Lord, when this man went for the jugular, he held nothing back. ‘Do you want the gory details, or will a rough outline do?’ she asked sweetly. all the while sending invisible daggers into him.

Quinn’s lips twitched, though the amusement was chilly. ‘I’m a big boy. You don’t have to spare my blushes.’

‘I doubt very much that you have ever blushed, Mr Mannion,’ she returned pithily.

‘Quinn,’ he invited, swatting her verbal dart aside and returning one of his own.

Committing murder had never been so inviting a proposition. ‘Are you sure we’re on intimate enough terms for Christian names?’ she asked coyly, and he laughed dryly.

‘Rest assured you and I will never be on intimate terms but I think, under the circumstances, we can dispense with the formality.’

So, they were to play games, were they? That was fine by her, too.

Laura allowed a sensual smile to spread across her lips. ‘Quinn, then,’ she flirted dangerously, and from the corner of her eye caught sight of the stunned expression on Jonathan’s face.

‘Don’t do this, Laura,’ he advised urgently, knowing full well that Quinn was a formidable opponent and never backed away from a fight but, before he could do more to head her off, his friend was responding.

‘He’s right. It wouldn’t be a wise move to use your feminine wiles on me, Laura.’

Ignoring the look on Jonathan’s face, Laura ventured where angels and sensible folk feared to tread. “Why not? It could be fun,’ she teased, boldly reaching out to run her fingers up and down the zip of his jacket, wondering at the same time just exactly where it was she got her nerve.

With a look of distaste, Quinn brushed her hand away. ‘Believe me, you wouldn’t enjoy the experience,’ he warned, but, truth be told, she was beginning to enjoy herself and merely batted her lashes at him.

‘You don’t know what I like,’ she purred sultrily.

His beautiful mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘I’m beginning to get the picture. Now cut it out.’

Delighted by her success, Laura heaved an elaborate sigh, as if to say he was no fun. ‘All right, where was I?’

‘You were about to tell me the truth about how you got my godfather to give you all that money,’ Quinn gritted through his teeth.

Actually, that was the very last thing she was about to do. She had a deep dislike of people who jumped to conclusions. He knew nothing of her, save what he had obviously read in the newspapers, and he had already decided it was true. Since he had clearly made up his mind, she was not going to waste time trying to persuade him differently.

‘I used the gifts God gave me,’ she vouchsafed provocatively, and it didn’t surprise her in the least to see his gaze travel the length of her body. Quinn Mannion was nothing if not predictable.

‘With which you are fulsomely endowed,’ he drawled contemptuously, making her blood boil. ‘I never thought my godfather would be so easily taken in.’

Unabashed, she smiled. ‘Alexander got exactly what he wanted from me. Do you want me to draw you a picture?’ she challenged sweetly. It was amazingly easy to dislike this man, even if he did have megawatt sex appeal which turned her insides to mush.

‘I’ll pass, thanks.’

He looked as if he had just discovered a bad smell right under his nose, and Laura couldn’t resist taunting him some more, to rub salt in the wound.

‘We were about to go to dinner. Would you care to join us?’ she invited, and heard Jonathan’s sharp intake of breath. He was going to be livid.

‘Sorry, but I can’t’ Quinn refused with every appearance of regret. “There’s someplace I have to be and—’ he glanced at the gold Rolex on his wrist ‘—I’m late already.’

Her smile of dismay was as sincere as his regret. ‘What a shame. Another time, perhaps?’ she ventured politely, holding out her hand. Unable to be so pointedly rude as to ignore her gesture, Quinn reached across and took it.

His hand closed around hers. Flesh touched flesh, and it seemed to Laura that a breathtakingly powerful charge of electricity shot clean through her system, bringing every atom of her body alive. It was like being plugged into a live socket. Her heartbeat accelerated off the scale, and her blood ran hot and thick through her veins so that her whole body thrummed with it It was a totally stunning sensation.

When Quinn released her and turned to Jonathan, Laura was left trembling in the aftershock. She had never felt so unnerved in her life. An hour ago she had been in blissful ignorance of the possibilities, but now she was seriously rattled. She was left gazing down at a still tingling palm. She drew in a shaky breath. My God, she thought dazedly, how could a simple touch do that?

‘What on earth did you think you were doing?’ Jonathan snapped at her, bringing her head up sharply. They were alone. Quinn had gone.

‘What?’ she asked blankly, still rocked by her reaction. She could scarcely believe it had happened, yet her hand told her it most certainly had. She shivered. She was glad he was gone. If she never saw him again, it would be too soon.

Jonathan raked an agitated hand through his hair. ‘My God, Laura, you were acting like an idiot!’ he exclaimed in disbelief.

‘I was acting the way he expected me to act,’ she declared defensively, and Jonathan rolled his eyes heavenwards, seeking patience.

‘You could have disappointed him.’

Laura was fully aware that she had just done herself no favours, but the man had rubbed her up the wrong way right from the beginning and she did not regret what she had done. In fact she would do it again, with as much satisfaction.

‘His assumption annoyed me,’ she pointed out testily, and he snorted.

‘You don’t say!’

She frowned at him. “There’s no need to be sarcastic. You know very well I couldn’t tell him the truth,’ she argued reasonably.

Jonathan jammed his hands in his pockets as if to keep from strangling her. ‘Maybe not, but you didn’t have to tell such a bald-faced lie, either.’

Her still tingling palm was annoying her, and she rubbed it over her coat to ease it. ‘I didn’t say a thing!’ she protested, and he laughed humourlessly.

‘Trust me, your implications were eloquent. Quinn now thinks you’re the very worst kind of gold-digger.’

‘I wasn’t aware there was any good kind of gold-digger,’ she riposted facetiously, and drew a quelling look for her pains.

‘Laura.…!’

She held up her hands in defeat. ‘Oh, all right, I admit I was at fault. I just couldn’t help myself. It was either that or punch him on the nose.’

That finally brought a smile to Jonathan’s pursed mouth. ‘All in all, I think I’d rather you’d hit him,’ he admitted drolly.

Laura laughed, but soon sobered again. ‘What was he doing here, anyway? It gave me the shock of my life to find him with you.’ Although she knew of all the close members of Alexander’s family, and had hoped to meet them, she had never expected to do so in such a fashion.

Jonathan moved away and began clearing up his desk. ‘Actually, he was delivering a message from Maxine,’ he informed her, mentioning Alexander’s wife.

‘That must have been nice for you,’ she said dryly, and Jonathan shot her a mildly reproving look. ‘Sorry,’ she apologised quickly, knowing her response had been left over from her run-in with Quinn. She had no reason to dislike Maxine Harrington.

‘I happen to be a close friend of the family and, as such, I was being invited to spend Christmas with them in the usual way.’

Her surprise was genuine. ‘I had no idea you knew the family that well.’

‘As it happens, the law firm of Ames and Ames have been legal advisers to the Harrington family for several generations. Christmas has become something of a tradition. I could hardly refuse,’ he said apologetically, as if she would think it disloyal of him.

‘No, of course not,’ she concurred readily. ‘I don’t imagine it will be much fun this year.’

‘Grim would be the word I’d choose to describe it. It will be the first holiday without Alexander. Speaking of which, you know that Philip and Stella wanted to contest the will?’

‘No! How could they?’ The suggestion that Alexander had been in less than full control of his faculties made her mad enough to spit nails. ‘What about Maxine?’

Jonathan smiled at her angry tone. She sounded like a she-bear defending her cubs. Alexander would have been pleased to know he had one of his staunchest defenders in the guise of his eldest daughter.

‘She would have none of it. Maxine is a very classy lady. She might resent like hell who she thinks you are, but if Alexander wanted to leave you money she is not about to challenge it. You’d like her.’

Laura let out a puff of air and relaxed again. ‘I want to like them all. I want to know them all. They’re my family, but how can I tell them? I can’t baldly come out with it. For heaven’s sake, the shock could kill her and then where would I be? Everything is such a mess.’

‘I agree, but the time will come when you can tell them.’

Laura shook her head, her eyes filling as they had a habit of doing whenever she thought about Alexander. She was constantly surprised by how much she missed her father, when she’d hardly known him. ‘He was a good man, wasn’t he?’

‘One of the best,’ Jonathan agreed, slipping an arm about her shoulders and giving her a hug.

Laura made a determined effort to chase the blues away. ‘I seem to remember Alexander telling me that the family always spend Christmas at the house in Vermont.’

‘That’s right. We all travel up a day or two before Christmas and stay until New Year,’ Jonathan confirmed.

She sighed. A genuine family gathering. She would have given a lot to be there. As a child she had always longed to be part of a large family, but there had been only herself and her mother. She had thought it might be different this year, but with Alexander gone…She was on her own again.

‘I don’t suppose you’re allowed to bring a guest, are you?’ she asked wistfully, then caught her breath as an audacious idea came to her out of the blue.

‘I could if I wanted,’ he acknowledged cautiously, something in her expression making him distinctly uneasy. ‘Why do you ask?’

‘Dare I?’ Laura asked herself out loud, still lost in thought. ‘Dare you what? Why am I beginning to feel very uneasy?’ Jonathan muttered dryly, and she grimaced.

‘Probably because you’re getting to know me too well,’ she quipped, then, taking the bull by the horns, sent him a beguiling smile. ‘I really do want to meet them, Jonathan,’ she said huskily.

Jonathan suddenly felt like a man on the way to his own execution. ‘What exactly are you suggesting?’

She took a deep breath, then blurted it out. ‘How would you like some friendly company for Christmas?’

He blinked. ‘You’re not serious!’

‘I wouldn’t say a word, honestly,’ she insisted, intent on persuasion. ‘All I want to do is get to know them, and give them a chance to get to know me.”

Jonathan held up his hands to ward her off. ‘Oh, no. No way!’

‘Please!’ she begged. ‘I’ll be good. You’ll never know I’m there!’

He dragged a hand through his hair. ‘It’s not me I’m worried about. The family won’t like it,’ he warned.

She bit her lip. He had a point. Yet she knew she had to do this. ‘They can hardly turn me away if I’m with you,’ she declared, though she wasn’t entirely sure if that was true.

‘True, but. Good Lord, Laura, have you considered everything? It won’t be pleasant for you.’

Laura shrugged that off, warming to the idea more and more. If she could just get them to see she wasn’t some sort of monster, they might be more receptive to the facts she hoped to tell them. Besides, she would be better able to gauge Maxine’s possible reaction. Was it really so much to ask?

‘I know it, but I can take anything they throw at me.’

Jonathan shook his head. ‘I’ve got to be out of my mind,’ he murmured, and the oblique agreement made Laura fling her arms around him.

‘Oh, thank you. You’re a wonderful man.’

‘Don’t overdo it,’ he advised, and shook his head again. ‘I know I’m going to live to regret this.’

‘No, you aren’t. This is the opportunity we’ve been waiting for. When are they expecting you?’

‘Next Wednesday evening,’ he revealed, and tried one last time to dissuade her. ‘Are you sure you’re doing the right thing?’

Laura pressed a hand over her anxiously beating heart. ‘No, but I’m going to do it anyway.’

Realising she was not about to change her mind, Jonathan bowed to the inevitable. ‘I’ll pick you up at your apartment around seven.’

‘You’re not going to tell them I’m coming, are you?’ she asked as the thought struck her, but Jonathan shook his head.

‘I think I’d prefer to surprise them. They might shoot the messenger for bringing bad news,’ he told her dryly, rounding his desk and locking away in a drawer the file he had been reading. ‘Are you ready for supper now?’ Collecting his overcoat from the stand by the door, he draped it over his arm.

‘Won’t our table have gone?’ Laura reminded him, but he grinned.

‘Nope. I remembered what happened the last time I took you to an opening and ordered the table for an hour later. If we hurry we should just about make it,’ he revealed, taking her arm and guiding her from the office.

‘My, what a clever boy you are!’

‘If I was that clever, I wouldn’t be letting you persuade me to set the cat among the pigeons.’

‘I’ma very docile cat,’ Laura murmured sweetly.

‘Hmm. Tell that to the pigeons!’

CHAPTER TWO

‘WARM enough?’

Laura sighed and stretched her toes towards the warm air coming from the heater. The car was a luxury model. Jonathan never drove anything but the best.

‘Mmm. It’s sending me to sleep,’ she murmured. It had been a long day, and the traffic leaving the city for the holiday season had made it seem endless. They had left it behind now, though, and progress was quicker.

‘Why don’t you nap for a while? We’ve still got some way to go,’ Jonathan suggested, sparing her a glance which brought a smile to his lips, before concentrating once more on his driving.

Laura liked the sound of that. She hadn’t slept much the previous night for thinking of the visit ahead of her. Not that she regretted her decision to come. She didn’t. However, she knew it wasn’t going to be pleasant walking into a place where she knew she wasn’t wanted. Consequently she had slept only fitfully, and now her eyes felt gritty from lack of sleep.

‘You’d better wake me before we get there. I don’t want to turn up looking like something the cat dragged in,’ she drawled wryly, making herself as comfortable as the seat belt would allow.

‘You never look anything less than lovely to me,’ Jonathan responded gallantly, and she smiled without opening her eyes.

‘You always say the right thing. It’s a wonder some woman hasn’t snapped you up before now.’

There was an infinitesimal pause before he responded. ‘All the best women are already taken,’ he said flatly, and Laura heard the soft sigh which followed. She didn’t look at him, but rather belatedly she did begin to wonder about Jonathan’s love life. Could he be in love with somebody who was married to somebody else? The thought saddened her, for if that was so he was doomed to unhappiness.

‘Uh-oh!’

The muffled exclamation brought her eyes open again, in time to see the first snowflakes begin to fall. She sat up, forgetting all about sleep.

‘It’s snowing!’ she cried in delight.

Jonathan snorted. ‘Just what we needed,’ he said grumpily. He had never made any attempt to hide his dislike of driving in wintry conditions.

‘I love snow. It makes everything look clean, bright and magical.’

He rubbed at the windscreen. ‘You wouldn’t think it so wonderful if you got snowed in.’

Laura laughed ruefully. ‘Probably not, but the child in me refuses to think of frozen pipes and no electricity.’

‘Perhaps you should move here. There’s no shortage of snow in Vermont in winter.’

Laura sat back with a sigh. ‘Strange, I always wanted to see Vermont, but I never imagined visiting under these circumstances. It’s funny how things turn out.’

‘Hilarious.’

‘Don’t be a grouch,’ she reproved lightly. ‘Tell me who else will be there besides us.’ It would be as well to know beforehand.

‘Did anyone ever tell you you’re a nag?’ he complained before complying with her request. ‘Let me see. Besides Maxine there will be Stella and her husband Ian Nevin. Then Philip and his latest girlfriend,’ Jonathan enlarged for her. ‘Oh, and Quinn, of course.’

Quinn? Her heart executed a crazy lurch, and her mouth suddenly became a parched desert. Alarm shot through her. She hadn’t expected him to be one of the party. Her mind flew back to those dizzying few seconds when he had touched her hand, and she shivered. The sensation which had ripped its way through her had been incredible. The sheer intensity of it was still shocking in retrospect, so that she hadn’t been able to forget it. She hadn’t been able to forget him, either. Much to her chagrin.

He kept slipping into her mind at the most inconvenient times. The damned man seemed intent on proving the adage: once seen, never forgotten. It was driving her crazy. She swore he was haunting her. His name popped out of the newspaper every time she opened one, and just that morning she had seen a tall, rugged man wearing an Aran sweater walk into the studio and, for one electrifying moment, she had actually thought it was him! When it turned out to be a complete stranger, her sense of disappointment had come as an unpleasant shock. She had had to tell herself quite categorically that she did not want to see him before she could relax again.

Now, apparently, he was to be at the house for the holiday, and the knowledge took the bottom out of her stomach. She groaned. This was ridiculous. Of all the juvenile reactions! Especially as she despised the man. She really had to get a grip.

‘Why “of course”?’ she asked a few minutes later and Jonathan frowned, not taking his eyes from the road where the snow was beginning to settle.

‘What was that?’

‘Why did you say Quinn will be there “of course”?’ she repeated calmly, though her pulse rate was anything but calm.

‘Because he always spends Christmas with the family.’

Now he told her. ‘Another tradition?’ she enquired dryly.

‘He and his sister are Alex’s godchildren. Quinn loved your father, Laura. Dislike him as much as you want, but never doubt that.’

She would have liked to, considering his opinion of her, but honesty forbade it. She accepted that Quinn Mannion had one good point. He also had the ability to set her senses whirling like dervishes, even in absentia. It didn’t seem to matter that she disliked the man. Her skin actually prickled with anticipation. Face it, Laura, she told herself sardonically, you’re attracted to him. You react to him as you have to no other man.

It wasn’t a comforting thought.

Yet she was going to have to live with it. It was either that or cancel the trip. She wondered what Jonathan would say if she asked him to take her back. Nothing printable, of that she could be certain, when she had made such an effort to persuade him to bring her in the first place. Anyway, it wasn’t a genuine option. She was not going to turn tail simply because some man was able to light her up like a Christmas tree. She was going to meet her family, and nobody was going to stop her. Especially not Quinn Mannion.

The snow began to fall more heavily as the journey progressed and Laura was glad when, half an hour later, Jonathan turned the car into a gravel driveway and brought it to a halt beside several other vehicles already parked there. She glanced out of the window and her lips parted in pleasure at the sight which met her eyes. It was almost as if they had wandered into one of those glass snow globes. As if someone had just shaken it, the snow was falling over a gabled house which glittered with frost and fairy lights whilst, from inside, house lights issued a welcoming golden glow.

‘It’s beautiful,’ she breathed.

‘I thought you’d appreciate it,’ Jonathan declared with a smile.

Somebody must have been on the lookout for their arrival, because by the time Laura had climbed out of the car the front door was open. A young woman of about her own age, and two children, stood silhouetted in the doorway. A muffled sound from beside her brought her attention to Jonathan, who had frozen on the spot and was staring tensely at the house.

‘What’s wrong?’ she asked and, when he didn’t answer, followed his gaze back to the small group. ‘Who are they?’

Jonathan took a deep breath. ‘Quinn’s sister Caroline and her two children. She was widowed a couple of years ago. I had no idea they would be here. You go on ahead and I’ll bring in the cases.’

There was a tone in his voice which warned her not to ask questions and, respecting it, Laura obediently made her way to the house. Her mind was whirring. Could this be the woman he was in love with? It didn’t seem in the least absurd as she climbed the steps and saw just how lovely the woman was. She was clearly surprised by Laura’s presence but, even so, her smile was cautiously welcoming.

‘Hello, I’m Caroline Stevens, and these two terrors are Tom and Ellie.’ Tom, Laura guessed, was about six, and Ellie four. ‘I’m sorry, I don’t know your name. Jon never mentioned he was bringing a guest. Come inside. Let me take your coat.’

She urged Laura into the warmth of the house and helped her off with her coat. Laura watched as she hung it in the closet, very much aware that, for all the other woman’s friendliness, she was struggling to be polite. It occurred to her that Caroline Stevens hadn’t expected Jonathan to bring a woman with him, and was surprised to find herself upset by it. Perhaps Jonathan’s feelings weren’t unreciprocated after all.

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

That never-to-be-forgotten voice set the fine hairs all over Laura’s body on end. She turned towards the stairs where the owner of it stood on the half-landing. Against her will, the sheer masculine appeal of him took her breath away. Damn it, she thought as her knees showed a tendency to go disastrously weak, why on earth did this have to be happening to her now? It didn’t seem to matter to her senses that he was glaring at her, and that she actively disliked him; she was responding to the unseen signals he was putting out. It was that left-over animal instinct. Nature was telling her receptive hormones that here was an ideal male with which to make sure of the continuation of the species. Well, she had news for Mother Nature. The man was far from ideal, and she had no intentions of getting within a good country mile of procreation!

‘And good evening to you too, Quinn,’ she greeted him blithely, and he descended the last few stairs in no time at all.

‘Never mind that. Just give me a straight answer,’ he commanded imperiously, and his sister hastily stepped forward.

‘Quinn, for heaven’s sake! She’s a guest!’ She remonstrated with him, but he met that with a snort of derision.

‘Laura Maclane is no guest in this house,’ he returned shortly, and the other woman’s eyes grew round as saucers.

‘Laura Maclane? Oh.!’ She stared at Laura as if she had suddenly grown horns.

‘Is she the witch lady Stella talked about?’ Tom’s young voice piped up, and Laura caught her breath in dismay.

She didn’t think ‘witch’ was the term her half-sister had used but, whatever word it had been, she found it hurt to be spoken of that way. And when Laura was hurt she got angry. How dared Stella talk about her in front of the children? It was inexcusable!

Their mother clearly thought so too. ‘Goodness, Tom, what a thing to say!’ Caroline exclaimed in embarrassment. ‘I must apologise for my son; he had no idea he was being rude.’

Tom frowned heavily, taking exception to the rebuke. ‘Uncle Quinn didn’t tell Stella off when she said it to him!’ he complained, and his mother’s colour deepened.

‘That’s quite enough, young man,’ she ordered in a choked voice, only to hear her daughter put in her ten cents’ worth.

‘Is she really a witch, Mama?’ Ellie asked in a quavering voice, and Laura realised the tot was close to being really scared.

Cursing her insensitive half-sister, Laura quickly set about allaying her fears. ‘Of course I’m not, sweetheart,’ she responded, squatting down so that she could smile directly into the little girl’s eyes. ‘But I think your uncle and I are about to exchange words, so perhaps it would be better if you went inside, hmm?’ she suggested gently, not wanting to alarm her further. Rising, she looked pointedly at Caroline who, after a momentary hesitation, caught her children by the hand and led them away.

Once they were gone, Laura turned to her protagonist.

‘Have you been telling tales about me, Quinn, darling?’ she drawled sweetly, whilst her eyes shot daggers at him. His own eyes took on a sardonic gleam.

‘I don’t need to. Your reputation goes before you. This is the last place you should look to for friends.’

‘I’m aware of that,’ she snapped. It was why she was

here, so she could change the way they thought about her. ‘I’m angry that somebody’s been talking in front of the children. That is unforgivable!’ she responded hotly.

‘I agree, which was why I put a stop to it,’ Quinn replied reasonably, promptly taking the wind out of her sails.

Disconcerted, she eyed him suspiciously. ‘You did?’

Quinn nodded in assent. ‘As soon as I realised what Stella was doing. Clearly I was too late for some of it.’

‘Oh.’ Darn it. She did not want to be grateful to this man for anything.

‘I can see you’re overwhelmed with gratitude,’ he observed laconically, and she scowled.

‘Stella ought to know that little pitchers have big ears,’ she rejoined huffily, refusing to do what he wanted and thank him. The words would choke her.

‘She knows now,’ Quinn asserted firmly. ‘She won’t be doing it again.’

In a dizzying about-face, Laura instantly felt sympathy for Stella. ‘I bet she loved that! Do you always expect everyone to do what you want?’

The faintest hint of a mocking smile twitched at his lips. ‘Let’s just say I’m dangerous to cross.’

Laura raised an eyebrow in a gesture less than impressed. ‘So is the street outside my studio, but I do it all the time.’

The statement produced another smile. ‘Am I supposed to take that as a challenge?’ he enquired mildly, and Laura was reminded that a crocodile appeared to smile just before it bit your hand off.

‘Do I look like a fool?’

‘Actually, no, but that can be deceptive. Looking at you, who would have thought you would sleep your way into a fortune?’ he remarked sardonically, and she felt her palm itch with a violent need to slap him hard.

Quinn Mannion had made up his mind about her before they had ever met. As far as he was concerned, the only thing she could have wanted from Alexander was money, and the only way to get it was with sex. What that said of his opinion of his godfather made her furious. Under the circumstances she had no qualms about responding in the provocative way he so disliked.

‘Oh, but I didn’t sleep. That wouldn’t have got me anywhere,’ she retorted silkily, and was immensely gratified to see she had indeed got under his skin.

‘You have no shame, do you?’

Her smile was as unrepentant as she could possibly make it. ‘None at all where Alexander is concerned.’

Quinn shook his head in reluctant admiration at her nerve. ‘It’s hard to know whether to call you brave or foolhardy. You almost defy description. So what does bring you here? Other than the need to flaunt your victory in the face of the family?’

Tipping her head to one side, Laura let her lips curve lazily. ‘Perhaps I simply wanted to see your fabulous blue eyes again. Did you know they look stunning when you’re angry?’ she taunted and, the funny thing was, it was quite true. Even sending out frosty messages, they were the most amazing eyes she had ever seen.

A strange expression flitted in and out of those blue depths as he went quite still. ‘Why are you coming on to me, Laura Maclane?’ he asked with disquieting softness, sending a trickle of unease down her spine.

Bearding the lion was a risky business, and probably not the wisest move she could have made under the circumstances. As a rule, her instinct for self-preservation would have made her back off, but not with this man. Unable to resist the impulse to drive a further dart under his skin, she sent him a sultry look from under her lashes and reached out to brush an imaginary speck of fluff off his Argyle sweater.

‘Why do you think?’ she returned audaciously, and almost leapt out of her skin when his hand snaked out and closed tightly about her wrist. She winced and had to bite down hard on her lip to keep from crying out. ‘Brute!’

‘I’ve warned you about playing games. I’m not my godfather. I am neither kind nor a fool. If you’ve come here to cause trouble, I can give you more trouble than you can imagine. Do you want to think again, darling?’

Of all the. If he thought he could get away with manhandling her, he was wrong. Laura was winding up to give him a strong piece of her mind when a sound at the door made them both turn.

‘What’s going on here?’ Jonathan asked sharply as he came in with their cases. Setting them aside, he closed the door and frowned at Quinn who slowly let Laura go.

‘So she came here with you, did she?’ he observed evenly, as Jonathan disposed of his own coat.

‘Do you have a problem with that?’ Turning from the closet, Jonathan crossed to Laura’s side and slipped an arm around her shoulder in a purely protective attitude.

Quinn eyed the gesture speculatively. ‘I’m wondering if you’re out of your mind. Bringing her here is the last thing everyone needs.’

‘It doesn’t alter the fact that Laura is my guest, and as such has a perfect right to be here,’ Jonathan argued, not in the least daunted by Quinn’s frosty response.

‘I wanted to see the house,’ Laura added expansively, not to be outdone. ‘When Jonathan told me he was coming here for Christmas, I knew it was the perfect time for me to come too.’

‘Even though you know you’re not wanted here?’ Quinn charged coldly.

Laura winced inwardly as that jibe found its mark. She knew she wasn’t wanted, but she hoped to change that. If it meant putting up with this man, she would do it.

‘I have a very thick skin,’ she lied, looking him squarely in the eye and daring him to say more.

Quinn gave them both long looks, then shrugged as if to say he had done his best. ‘Very well, if you’re determined to stay I can’t stop you, but I’m warning you now, Laura. If you upset anyone, you’ll have me to answer to. Do you hear me?’

‘I should imagine everyone can hear you,’ she replied with dismissive irony. ‘By the way, what will you do if someone upsets me?’

He sent her an old-fashioned. ‘Somehow, I seriously doubt that will happen.’

She couldn’t help but laugh, though her dislike of him was increasing by leaps and bounds. ‘You have me all worked out, don’t you?’ she charged, and he nodded, his eyes glinting mockingly.

‘Right down to the last dot so, if you’re wise, you’ll be very careful and walk softly.’ With which piece of advice, he turned his back on the pair of them and disappeared into the lounge.

Laura let out a soundless whistle. ‘Wow!’

‘Ditto,’ Jonathan drawled wryly.

‘I don’t think he likes me,’ she declared with a satisfied smile. The more he disliked her, the more she liked it.

‘I can tell you’re bothered.’

She laughed grimly. ‘Quinn Mannion needs taking down a peg or two. Did you see how easily he believed everything I said? Incredible!’

‘What I saw was you playing with fire. He’s not the sort of man to make an enemy of, Laura.’

He was already her enemy. ‘Don’t worry about me. I’ll be fine. Besides, nobody’s going to run me off. Especially not Quinn Mannion!’

Jonathan gave her a worried look. ‘Seriously, Laura. I wouldn’t tangle with him if I were you. He doesn’t believe in losing,’ he cautioned like the good friend he was.

Losing wasn’t on her agenda, either, she thought determinedly. ‘I’m only going to play with him a little.’ Just enough to really irritate him. She would be the nuisance fly he just couldn’t swat.

Jonathan look at her unhappily. ‘I’ve got a bad feeling about this, but I don’t suppose that’s going to change your mind, is it?’ he asked as he took her by the elbow and turned her towards the door Quinn had disappeared through.

‘Not in the least,’ she agreed determinedly. ‘Oh, by the way, I liked the look of your Caroline,’ she added gently, and wasn’t in the least surprised to see a tide of warm colour wash into his cheeks. Aha. So she was getting warm.

‘She’s not my Caroline,’ Jonathan denied, and Laura smiled sympathetically.

‘Really? Then why did I get the impression she might like to be? She was very put out to see me arriving with you, and that was before she knew who I was,’ she told him, and felt her heart twist at the sudden hope she saw in his eyes.

‘She was?’ he asked with such boyish eagerness it quite made her envious.

Laura slipped her arm through his and gave it a squeeze. ‘Oh, yes. I think it might not be quite as hopeless as you imagine.’ She hoped she was right. One look at Caroline Stevens had convinced her that she was just the sort of woman Jonathan needed.

The sound of raised voices greeted them as they approached the doorway to the lounge, and Laura braced herself for their entry into the room.

‘Mother, you cannot have that woman in this house!’ a female voice declared in outrage. ‘You can’t let her insult you so!’

‘Oh, Stella, darling, do keep your voice down. She’ll hear you,’ a gentler voice implored softly.

‘I don’t care if she does! Quinn should have seen her off at once!’ the younger voice declared unrepentantly.

Just as if I were a beggar, Laura thought desolately, trying not to be hurt but feeling it all the same. Was it naive to expect these people to like her? Wasn’t she just asking for trouble? Maybe, but she was committed now. She had to go on.

They stepped inside just as Stella Nevin dropped back into her chair. Everyone turned to look at them.

‘Stop being such a brat, Stella,’ the man seated at her side rebuked her. ‘I apologise for my wife’s childish behaviour,’ he added, and Laura realised he must be Ian Nevin.

She had never lacked courage but, in all honesty, she hadn’t expected it to be quite so difficult to walk in there. There was a distinctly uncomfortable atmosphere in the room, and she knew it was due to her presence. She quickly took stock of the occupants. She recognised Maxine and her two children from the photographs Alexander had had of them, and of course Stella’s husband. The only other occupant besides Quinn, his sister and her children was Philip’s girlfriend. A tiny brown mouse of a girl who looked as if she wouldn’t say boo to a goose.

Not so Stella. She had every intention of having her opinion heard. ‘Don’t apologise to her,’ she declared, affronted. ‘Why, she’s nothing but a…a…’

Fortunately, Stella’s reaction was just the goad Laura needed to bolster her nerve. ‘Gold-digger appears to be the description of choice.’ She helped her out as she strolled into the room with every appearance of calm. Hopefully nobody would realise she was faking it

Colour stormed into her half-sister’s pretty face, but her chin went up. ‘Gold-digger, then!’ she repeated, and Laura couldn’t help but laugh, for she knew that look. It had graced her own face countless times as she was growing up. Laughter eased her tension wonderfully.

‘Bravo,’ she applauded, and Stella frowned at her in sudden confusion.

Turning away from her half-sister, Laura took a deep breath and squared her shoulders as she walked over to where Maxine Harrington sat in a chair by the fire. She was an elegant if frail-looking woman who had never been beautiful, but had a presence that age could not dim.

Laura held out her hand. ‘How do you do, Mrs Harrington? I’m very pleased to meet you at last,’ she said pleasantly, determined that she, at least, would show good manners, whatever reception she received.

Maxine Harrington looked from the outstretched hand to Laura’s face and for a moment Laura was sure she was not going to respond. She was bracing herself for the blow when the other woman slowly raised her hand and offered it.

‘How do you do, Miss Maclane?’ she said politely, and Laura found she had to swallow a lump in her throat.

‘Please, call me Laura,’ she urged in a husky voice.

Maxine recovered her hand and rested it in her lap. ‘Laura, then,’ she agreed with a faint smile, and Laura was painfully aware that she had not been given the same leave. Maxine Harrington accepted her presence here, but her graciousness only went so far.

Her eyes were drawn to where Quinn stood behind Maxine’s chair. He was regarding her quizzically, silently asking her what else she might have expected. Nobody wanted her here. She was on sufferance, nothing more. If he thought to dismay her, the effect was the opposite. She stiffened her spine, reminding herself she had always known it would be neither comfortable nor easy. A fact which was reinforced mere seconds later.

‘Why have you come here?’ Philip Harrington demanded aggressively. He was a younger copy of his father, and it caught at Laura’s heart.

His mother winced. ‘Philip, please. Things are quite bad enough without you making them worse,’ she sighed.

‘But it’s what we all want to know, Mother. I think she wants to humiliate us all!’

Maxine sent her son a level look. ‘If I am not humiliated, then there is no need for you to be. Laura is a guest in this house, and I expect you to treat her with courtesy.’

Laura knew how much it must have cost for her to say that, and she was impressed. Jonathan was right; Maxine Harrington had class.

Thank you,’ she responded gratefully. ‘I hope that we can get better acquainted whilst I am here,’ she added, and Maxine Harrington shot her a curious look.

‘Perhaps,’ she agreed distantly, then smiled coolly. ‘I understand from Quinn that you run a business. I dare say you will not want to be away from it for long.’

It was delicately put, but Laura got the message loud and clear. She was not to outstay her welcome. She smiled wryly. ‘No more than a few days,’ she confirmed, putting a limit on her stay that the other woman could accept.

Maxine nodded. ‘Then I hope you enjoy the holiday.’ ‘I’m sure I shall,’ Laura replied with a smile, and the other woman relaxed back into her chair.

‘It’s unfortunate that you didn’t tell us you were coming. I’m afraid you missed supper, but I’m sure Norah can find something for you.’ She referred to the housekeeper.

Food was the last thing on Laura’s mind. For all her outward poise, her stomach had been doing acrobatics ever since she had walked into the room. ‘Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. Jonathan and I ate before we started out.’ She indicated the man standing just behind her.

Turning her attention to the familiar figure, Maxine gave him a smile of such genuine warmth and welcome that Laura’s heart twisted. She knew it was foolish to feel envious, but she couldn’t help it. She wanted to be welcome here too.

‘Jonathan, dear boy! I didn’t see you there!’ Maxine exclaimed, holding out her hands to him.

Jonathan offered Laura a supportive smile as he stepped past her. ‘Maxine. How are you.…?’

Laura looked on, wondering if she would ever be a part of this family. It occurred to her that they had no reason to accept her, ever. Even if, having heard the truth, they accepted it, they need not welcome her with open arms. She was nothing to them. They might always feel the way they did now. It was a sobering thought.

‘Here. Take this.’ Quinn suddenly appeared before her, and the husky-voiced command sent those by now familiar shivers down her spine.

She glanced from the cut glass full of golden liquid up into his face. Her eyes lingered on his disturbingly sensual lips. He really did have a beautiful mouth. She could envisage it seeking out tender skin, burning it with the intensity of his passion. It would be insistent, and…What in the world was she doing? Good God, was she insane? she groaned silently. She absolutely did not want to think those things about this abominable man!

‘What’s in it? Poison?’ she quipped facetiously.

A hint of a smile curved his lips. ‘I couldn’t find any at such short notice. It’s only brandy.’

She eyed him askance. ‘Hmm. Do I believe you? You wouldn’t care to taste it first?’

One eyebrow quirked at her. ‘You could try trusting me,’ he said, but sipped at the liquid all the same. ‘Satisfied?’ he asked softly, fixing her eyes with his as he held the glass out to her.

Her nerves gave a violent jolt. Surely she had imagined that that perfectly simple question had been laced with sexual connotations? Imagination or not, her senses were reacting in a way which had nothing to do with brandy and glasses, and everything to do with his closeness. She could smell him on every intake of breath. The spicy scent of his cologne tantalised her, whilst the heat of him seared her even though they did not touch. It made her aware of herself in a way she never had been before. Her senses were sharper, more perceptive. They made her want things that were downright dangerous. Like Quinn.

She was mad. Wanting Quinn Mannion was the height of insanity. He despised her, and she positively loathed him. Her brain knew it, so why didn’t her senses follow suit?

She didn’t know the answer, but suddenly she really needed that drink.

Inwardly she cursed the way her hand carried the faintest tremor as she reached out to take the glass. All would have been well even so, had not Quinn’s fingers brushed against hers as she grasped it. Just like before, a tongue of flame went shooting up her arm. She gasped, her reaction instinctive. She jerked her hand away, and the glass wobbled precariously before tumbling to the carpet.

‘Oh, no!’ Laura exclaimed, watching the liquid run out. Fortunately the glass hadn’t broken, but the contents were soaking in rapidly.

‘I’ll get a cloth,’ Caroline declared with the practicality of a woman used to spills and the various other mishaps brought about by two lively youngsters.

Other reactions were predictably less constructive and more critical.

‘It was her fault,’ Stella accused, glaring at Laura. ‘I saw it myself. You deliberately took your hand away just as Quinn was giving you that glass!’

Already unsettled by the accident, Laura lost her cool and took umbrage at that. ‘Now just a minute—’ she began, but Quinn interrupted her before she could get into a good flow.

‘Don’t be ridiculous, Stella,’ he snapped impatiently.

‘It was an accident. There’s no need to make a federal case out of it,’ he added shortly, and the younger woman bristled with affront.

‘How can you possibly defend her?’ she gasped, and Laura’s eyes took on a dangerous glint.

‘I don’t need defending by anyone,’ she pronounced firmly, and received a quelling look from the man at her side.

‘Stay out of this, Laura,’ Quinn ordered, and her lips tightened in annoyance. ‘You’ve done quite enough for one evening,’ he added tautly, and she drew in a furious breath. However, before she could utter a word, Caroline returned with various cloths, and Quinn pulled her out of the way.

To all intents and purposes they were now separated from the rest of the room. Uncomfortably aware of the sense of isolation, Laura folded her arms in front of her and glared at him balefully.

‘What do you mean, I’ve done enough?’

‘Trouble just naturally follows you around, doesn’t it?’ he jibed, setting her teeth on edge.

‘What exactly are you accusing me of now?’ she demanded to know.

‘You have this unbelievable talent for picking fights with everyone in the room,’ he denounced her, and she caught back her first sharp retort in favour of something more taunting. Her eyes glittered as her chin went up.

‘Were you impressed?’

Those blue eyes sharpened intently. ‘Did you expect me to be?’

Laura gave an offhand shrug. ‘No, which was just as well, as I would have been disappointed. Not much impresses you, does it, Quinn?’

‘I would be impressed by your sensitivity if you decided to leave,’ he told her coolly, and she laughed in spite of herself. He was persistent.

‘It appears we’re both to be doomed to disappointment,’ she sighed elaborately, watching Caroline climb to her feet. ‘Will it be stained?’ she asked in genuine concern.

Caroline brushed her hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, and puffed out a breath. ‘It’s hard to say. I suggest you have it professionally cleaned after the holiday, Maxine.’

‘Naturally I shall get it done,’ Laura insisted, for it was her fault the carpet was stained in the first place.

Across the room, Stella laughed scornfully. ‘Oh really! You may have walked off with a chunk of the family fortune, but you can have no idea of the value of that carpet. You’ll get Joe Smith to do it and ruin it!’

In her unsettled state, that was one insult too many for Laura. She counted to ten before losing her temper. ‘You really shouldn’t make those sort of value judgements, Stella. You don’t have the brain power for it!’ she returned caustically, drawing a collective breath from most of the adults in the room.

‘Of all the nerve!’ Philip exclaimed, shooting to his feet in defence of his sister.

‘Mother, we cannot put up with this!’ Stella cried at the same time as Laura felt a strong hand close about her upper arm.

‘I think you’ve said just about enough,’ Quinn warned sibilantly.

‘On the contrary, I’m just getting started,’ she countered, trying to shake him off but failing miserably.

‘Back off, before I get nasty,’ he cautioned just loud enough for her to hear.

‘Nasty? You’re already breaking my arm,’ she complained, turning her head and finding herself looking straight into his eyes. Her lips tightened at the mockery she found there. Her efforts amused him.

‘Be thankful I’m not breaking your neck!’ he retorted mildly, but his hold did ease a fraction, though not enough for her to escape.

‘You are an obnoxious man!’ she declared witheringly. All it did was make him grin.

‘But too much of a gentleman to reply in kind.’

Laura knew that to struggle would be playing into his hands. Taking a deep breath, she sought the calm which always managed to get her through particularly taxing moments with difficult clients.

‘Something tells me this might be a good moment to ask to be shown my room,’ she observed wryly, and Quinn eyed her thoughtfully, clearly wondering what she was up to with this change of tack.

‘That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said all evening,’ he agreed sardonically, and she longed to wipe the smile from his face.

‘I happen to be an extremely intelligent woman,’ she informed him loftily, and received a grunt of amusement for her pains.

‘There’s a hell of a difference between intelligence and cleverness. I’ll admit you’re clever, Laura Maclane, but that kind of cleverness relies on the stupidity of others.’

‘You, of course, would never be that stupid?’ she contested scathingly, and Quinn laughed.

‘Not where you are concerned, anyway.’

It was the equivalent of waving a red rag at a bull. Laura couldn’t resist retaliating. Licking her lips provocatively, she raised one perfectly arched eyebrow questioningly. ‘You’re that sure?’ she taunted recklessly.

Quinn’s eyes narrowed speculatively. ‘Playing games can be dangerous, as I’ve told you before. Don’t start something you’ll regret.’

Laura laughed, though the warning sent a shiver of excitement down her spine. ‘What makes you think I’m starting something? Poor Quinn, I do believe all those thrillers you write are beginning to make you paranoid. After all, who is holding whom?’ she pointed out mockingly, glancing down to where his hand sat on her arm.

His hand didn’t release her. Instead, it slipped down to her wrist and his thumb began a steady backwards and forwards movement over her pulse. ‘I thought the point of the game was wanting me to touch you,’ he drawled huskily, and Laura knew he could feel the way her heart was galloping.

Still, she was not ready to retreat. ‘What game are you referring to?’

‘The one where you come on to me so strongly, I forget all my principles and am overwhelmed by lust,’ he enlarged for her benefit, bringing hot colour to her cheeks, though she tried to prevent it.

‘Why on earth would I want you to do that?’ she demanded witheringly, and drew a soft laugh from him.

‘Because you’re bored? Because it’s been how many months, and you need a man? Because you want me?’ he added in a sexy undertone that rippled along her nerves, doing untold damage.

She went as still as a statue. ‘What?’

‘Don’t tell me you didn’t know?’ Quinn goaded in amusement. ‘Like me or loathe me, you want me.’

Shock tore through her at his stunning declaration. ‘That is the most-’ She hastened to deny it, but he didn’t let her finish.

‘I want you, too,’ he confessed, taking her breath away. ‘But before you get too excited it’s only fair to warn you I have no intention of doing anything about it. Call me over-fastidious, but there are just some things I will not do. Top of the list is getting involved with someone who’s gone round the block as often as you have.’

It was the very last thing she had expected him to say, and for a second she was too surprised to be insulted. Then it hit her, and anger surged up insider her. How dared he?

‘My God, you’ve got a nerve!’ she gasped furiously, but he merely laughed.

‘Just how many men have you had?’

‘Go to hell.’

‘With you? I’ll pass, thanks.’

Positively volcanic, Laura wanted to say so many things but not a word found its way from her mouth. Then, before she could take any other form of action, they were interrupted.

‘Is everything all right over there?’ Jonathan called out.

‘We’re fine,’ Quinn put in before Laura could respond. ‘Laura was saying she wanted to be shown her room. I was just about to take her upstairs.’

That’s kind of you, Quinn.’ Maxine thanked him. ‘The room next to yours is unoccupied. It’s rather small, I’m afraid,’ she apologised to Laura, ‘but as we had no idea you were coming all the other rooms have been taken.’

‘Perhaps Laura expects to share Jonathan’s room?’ Philip put in snidely, and Laura, catching the look Jonathan sent Caroline and the dismayed expression on the other woman’s face, would have gladly throttled him, half-brother or not.

‘Thank you for the thought, Philip, but Jonathan is my friend and nothing more,’ she said lightly, knowing that the best way to handle the remark was not to take it seriously. She let her gaze drift to Quinn’s sister, and hoped she got the message. ‘I will be perfectly satisfied with the room Maxine suggested, if Quinn will show me the way.?’ She turned to find him regarding her curiously, but he was quick to respond to her suggestion.

‘This way.’

Laura followed him back into the foyer and waited impatiently whilst he collected her case from where Jonathan had left it. They mounted the stairs side by side.

‘That was a kind thing you did,’ he remarked, and she didn’t pretend not to know what he was referring to.

‘Didn’t you think I could be kind?’ she said curtly.

‘It never occurred to me.’

Now, why didn’t that surprise her? ‘But it did cross your mind to wonder if, since I came with Jonathan, I might be sleeping with him?’ she countered dryly.

‘It’s been a long time between men, and you’re not exactly the type of woman to respect other people’s feelings. You take what you want. You could have taken Jonathan to your bed. My sister means nothing to you,’ Quinn replied, and Laura smiled thinly. His opinion of her kept sinking lower and lower. Would it ever reach rock-bottom or was the well of his dislike bottomless?

‘Believe it or not, I like your sister,’ she said honestly.

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