Authors: Barbara Meyers
Chapter Sixteen
Quinn poured herself a diet soda and plopped onto the sofa with her laptop and the remote. She tuned in to HLN. The soothing background noise of the news headlines alleviated the emptiness of the house, but didn’t distract her from concentrating on her thesis. She kept the volume just loud enough to distinguish the words so that if anything truly newsworthy came on she could hear it.
Reif and Emma had left for the airport at the same time yesterday morning. Emma was headed to San Diego. Reif had flown to New York on business. He was due back this evening. Quinn chided herself for moping while he was gone. She hadn’t expected to miss him as much as she did, though she supposed she still had his stupid bracelet to remember him by.
He’d called yesterday afternoon when he knew she should be home. This morning she’d put together a lasagna. She’d have it in the oven when Reif walked in the door. Reif had become the one person she looked forward to spending time with as of late. She’d been behaving herself more, ever since the beach outing, but it hadn’t been easy.
What was worse, she was afraid she’d done something dumb. Something all too predictable. She’d gone and fallen in love with the man. She didn’t just want to be with Reif she wanted to
be with
him. All the time. In bed. Out of bed. Morning, noon and night. But if she gave in to him now, how would she ever know if he really loved her back, or if he’d just won the battle of wills they’d been engaged in?
She had to be smart about this. She couldn’t let him think he had the upper hand. She couldn’t let him think he’d won because he was just smug enough to rub her…
Quinn looked up to see a shot of a commercial airliner engulfed in flames. She increased the TV volume.
“—The TransCon 737 crashed shortly after take-off from New York’s LaGuardia Airport. Although it appears that all 237 passengers and six crew members were killed, rescue efforts have been hampered by bad weather. Flight 477 was bound for Los Angeles. We’ll have further updates as they become available.
“Turning to international news—”
Quinn hit the mute button, shoved her laptop aside and moved mechanically into the kitchen. With shaking fingers she removed the magnet which held Reif’s itinerary to the refrigerator door. Her gaze dropped to the line outlining his return flight.
TransCon 477.
Quinn stared at the paper, refusing to believe what was printed there. She picked up the landline and dialed the number printed on the itinerary for TransCon Airlines. A recorded menu asked her to press various numbers for access to domestic or international reservations; arrival and departure times; lost luggage or using frequent flyer miles.
What Quinn needed more than anything at that moment was to talk to another human being. Someone who was in charge and knowledgeable. Someone who could assure her that Reif Callaghan had not been a passenger on Flight 477. She wanted a stranger with a reassuring voice to tell her that Reif had missed his flight. That he was scheduled on a later flight or that he’d taken an earlier one.
An hour ticked by as she waited for the next available TransCon representative. She moved back to the living room and flipped to the other news channels, settling on Fox News which appeared to have reporters on the scene. She was continually reassured that her call would be answered in the order it had been received and that she would not be disconnected.
Why then, did she
feel
so disconnected? Inside she felt as if someone had taken a giant spoon and scooped everything out of her. She couldn’t reconcile herself to the fact that she would never see Reif Callaghan again. She simply couldn’t. She refused to believe it.
“Thank you for calling TransCon. This is Sharon. May I help you?”
“I need,” Quinn choked out, “I need to find out if someone I know was on Flight 477 today.” She took a shaky breath, willing herself not to fall apart, not to start screaming at Sharon.
“Certainly ma’am. I can give you a number to call, but I can also try to transfer you from here. The switchboard might be backed up, so if we don’t get through you try again at this number I’m going to give you, all right?”
“All right,” Quinn whispered. Sharon was being so kind, so gentle. Quinn dutifully wrote out the numbers then waited while her call was transferred. She wiped the palms of her hands on her jeans, staring at the numbers on the notepad in front of her until they blurred.
The line rang and rang but Quinn refused to hang up.
Finally, the weary-sounding voice of a harried female answered. She must have been having just as rough a day dealing with hundreds of people like her. Quinn repeated her request.
“What is your relationship to the passenger?” the woman asked.
Quinn hesitated. She hadn’t expected to have to explain her relationship with Reif to a complete stranger. That was going to be hard to do since she’d never been able to explain it to herself.
He’s my best friend. He takes care of me. He makes me laugh. He keeps me safe and watches over me, but he gives me my freedom, too. He’s kind of old fashioned but in a really sweet way and I’m thinking I shouldn’t have turned him down when he asked me to marry him even though it was a really silly thing to do just because we’d slept together once.
“I’m his—he’s my—he’s my friend.”
“I’m sorry, ma’am. We can’t give out any information until we’ve notified the next of kin. Perhaps you should contact his family.”
“I see. Thank you.” Quinn hung up the phone and slid down the wall to the floor.
His family. Reif’s family. In San Diego. She had no idea how to contact them. He’d mentioned them, but it seemed he always spoke to them during the day from the office.
Stupid
, she told herself.
Why didn’t you just say you were his wife? He asked you enough times. Even if he was joking most of the time. Now he’ll never ask again. How many opportunities did you think you’d be given? You were so smart, weren’t you, coming up with every excuse in the book. You’re too young. He’s too old-fashioned. It’s just a physical attraction. What were you waiting for?
The more she berated herself the further into despair she sank. Grief, guilt and regret crowded in on her, but she didn’t feel she deserved the relief tears would give her. Still they spilled out, ignoring her attempts to stop them with her sleeve.
A key turned in the front door and her heart stopped. The door opened and closed and she shot up and skidded into the hallway.
Reif glanced up from the mail he was looking through and dropped his overnight bag on the floor.
She gaped at him as if she were seeing a ghost, then she launched herself at him, wrapped her arms around his neck and burst into tears all over again, babbling incoherently. He held her, stroking her back and her hair. “What is it? What happened? Are you okay?”
She actually laughed at that. Was
she
okay? But despite how relieved she felt now she couldn’t stop crying. Reif made soothing sounds until she calmed down.
He eased his hold on her but her arms remained tight around his neck. “Are you ever going to let go of me?”
“Never,” came her muffled reply against his shoulder.
“I’ll get a hunched back if you keep hanging on to me like this.” He reached up and pried her hands apart so he could look at her. “Seriously, what is going on?”
Quinn led him into the living room. Fox was flashing new scenes of the crash. She hit the mute button to restore the sound and leaned into him, burying her face in his neck.
Reif’s arms automatically curved around her. “My God…that was…I was supposed to be…”
She nodded, clutching a handful of his shirt.
“You thought that I was…”
Again Quinn nodded. His arms tightened around her. “I got to the airport in time to catch an earlier flight. Q, I barely had time to get on the plane or I would have called. I didn’t think it would matter to you anyway, what time I got back.”
Calling her Q was one of those odd, funny things she would have missed about him.
“When I called to find out if you were—they wouldn’t tell me anything. They asked if I was related to you and I had to say no. All I could think about was that I
should
be related to you.”
Reif smiled and smoothed her hair back.
“You asked me to marry you and even though I know you were just being silly and old-fashioned and you were probably joking, all I could think about was that I’d never get the chance again.”
Reif grinned. “The chance to what? To turn me down?”
“To tell you
yes
.”
“Hey,” he told her as he cupped her chin in his hand. “The offer still stands.”
Quinn held his gaze. “I’m serious.”
“You’re serious? About marrying me?” Reif’s brows knit together. “Because you thought I was dead? I don’t want you to marry me out of some misguided sense of guilt.”
“Why? Isn’t that why you initially proposed? Because you felt guilty?”
“Maybe so, but you’re the one who told me—”
“So why isn’t it okay if I accept your proposal because I thought you were dead?”
Reif rested on the sofa and stared at the ceiling for a moment before he covered his face with his hands. He rubbed his eyes with his fingertips before he looked at Quinn again. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”
“But in a good way, right?”
“That is yet to be determined.”
She sat next to him and socked him in the arm.
“Ow.” He rubbed it. “Look, you didn’t want to marry me to save my friendship with Tony or because your father might find out about us. You weren’t going to marry me even if you were pregnant. And you were right. It was a dumb idea.”
“Yeah, but it was
good
dumb idea.”
“Bottom line is you didn’t want to marry me at all. But now all of a sudden you do. What gives?”
“I’m in
love
with you, dumbass.” Her voice was shaky, but she made herself say the words. She had to see his reaction.
Everything about Reif seemed to relax. He reached a hand out to cup her jaw, his fingers sliding back into her hair. “You are, huh?”
“And if I’m being totally honest, I’ve kind of had a thing for you since the first time we met.”
He grinned. “I don’t know what to say to that—”
She threw her fist at him again, but he caught it before she could hit him and held on tight.
“—Unless I tell you that every time I’ve said you drive me crazy or you’re killing me what I really meant was that I’m crazy about you too.”
“Reif.” The name was like a question, asking if he was being serious. Reif nodded in reply, and suddenly everything in the world made sense to her.
Her lips met his and time stood still. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pressed up against him. Long after the kiss ended the embrace did not.
“Let’s not waste any more time,” Quinn whispered. “Vegas? What do you think??”
He held up his arm and looked at his watch.
“If we leave now, we could be there tonight,” Quinn pointed out. She kissed him again, long and hungrily.
“Wait a minute,” Reif gasped when he came back up for air. This was going too fast. “Let me think for a minute.”
“Thinking’s overrated. We could be in a hotel bed.” Quinn rocked against him suggestively. “Together. Tonight.”
“Stop. Just give me a minute.”
Quinn laid her head on his shoulder. Reif closed his eyes, willing himself not to think with his cock. From the moment he’d walked through the door there’d been more going on than he could take in. He’d stared at the news and had a flash of what he’d miss if indeed he’d been in that crash. His family, of course. His sisters. His parents. But Quinn overlaid everything else. He’d regret what might have been with her.
He wound a lock of her air around his finger. She sighed and burrowed closer. “It’s okay. I know spontaneity isn’t your thing.”
“Hey, I’m the guy who proposed to you after one night. It doesn’t get more spontaneous than that.”
“I think we both know that was more some ancient code of honor thing you were doing.”
“I suppose. Think you can live with an unspontaneous guy with an ancient code of honor?”
Quinn straightened so she could look into his eyes. “Definitely.”
“I’m not marrying you on a whim, you know. I’ve thought about it since our first morning together. And it only got stronger every day after that. It’s got nothing to do with Tony, or feeling guilty about what happened or because I feel responsible for you. I’m in love with you. I want to be with you. Forever.”
“Me too.”
“Maybe you should take some more time—”
“Nope.”
“You’re sure.”
“Positive.”
Chapter Seventeen
Once out of the city, Reif reached for Quinn’s hand. He laced his fingers through hers and steered one-handed. Every once in a while he’d glance at her and say, “Second thoughts?”
“Still no. You?”
“No.”
Or,
“It’s not too late to back out, you know.”
“I’m not the one talking about backing out. Do
you
want to?”
“No.”
Or,
“Still think you’re in love with me?”
“Since five minutes ago? Pretty sure. What about you?”
“Oh, yeah.”
And finally,
“What about—”
“If you don’t stop asking me questions I’m jumping out of the car and hitchhiking. Got it?”
“Got it.”
Of course that didn’t stop him from one last comment.
“Last chance,” he warned her as they approached the Las Vegas city limits.
“Thanks for the warning. Now drive.”
Just then Reif swerved off the road and into a McDonald’s parking lot. His jaw clenched and he banged his hand against the steering wheel.
“What’s wrong?” Quinn asked alarmed.
“We can’t get married.”
“What? Why?”
Reif turned toward her. “We need ID.”
“I have ID. Did you forget yours?”
“No. Q, that’s one of the ways the mob can find you. It’s not that hard to get your driver’s license number and plug it into a search program. If it pops up anywhere, for a speeding ticket or a
marriage license
, you’re on their radar.”
“So? What’s it going to tell them? That I live in Florida? That I got married in Vegas? We’re not staying here.”
“It will tell them you got married to me.”
“Oh. I guess we might as well draw them a map then.”
“Pretty much.”
She’d turned away from Reif to stare out the window.
“Say something,” Reif said.
She couldn’t. She couldn’t get beyond her disappointment. She wanted to scream at the unfairness. It wasn’t that they couldn’t get married, it was what that fact represented. If they got married they’d be on the run. If they didn’t get married she’d still be in hiding. This had been a spontaneous adventure, a glimpse into the life she wanted with him, only to face the harsh reality: she couldn’t afford to be like that. Her life consisted of buying things with cash only, getting paid under the table, and never taking the same route to work twice.
“Q.” He touched her shoulder.
“Go away.” Her voice came out low and lifeless.
“No.” He moved closer, slid his arm across her shoulders. “Look at me. Talk to me.”
“It’s not fair.”
“When this is over—” Reif tried.
“When this is
over
? Who’s to say it ever will be? Or that I’ll live to see it? Maybe they won’t even bother trying to find me again. They might simply wait until the trial starts and I’m brought back to testify. That’s when I’m an easy target.”
“You don’t know that—wait. Find you
again
?”
“I was in a safe house when it was compromised. That’s why Tony sent me here.”
“Wait. Why were you in a safe house?”
“Because I’m a witness.”
“You must have witnessed something pretty important to rate a safe house.”
When Quinn didn’t deny it, he said, “Holy shit. You were there in that garage. You saw everything and they know it. You didn’t think I deserved to know that?”
“I didn’t want you to know because I needed my freedom more. But as you said, a lie of omission is still a lie. I shouldn’t have lied to you. I’m sorry.”
“Yet you wanted me to keep you safe. How did you expect me to do that when I didn’t know how high the threat level is?”
“Don’t you get it? I was in a safe house and I wasn’t safe there!”
Reif said nothing for a moment.
“That’s why you say safety’s an illusion.”
“You understand?”
Reif nodded. “I’m a security consultant. I know even the best precautions can be circumvented. There are never any foolproof guarantees. Limiting freedom generally does nothing but create more fear.”
“Exactly.”
“Q, I can’t marry you if I can’t trust you.”
“I know. I understand. It was wrong of me and unfair to you. But I just wanted…” She raised a hand and let it drop. “I wanted to have my life be my own.”
Reif slumped back into his seat and draped his wrists across the steering wheel. He stared out the window for a long time before he looked her way again. “Want to know what I’m thinking?”
“That it’s my turn to drive?”
“I was thinking what if you’d said yes that first morning when I suggested we get married. Or if you’d said yes any of the other times I teased you about it after that.”
“Then we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Exactly. I’d have already married you. For better or worse. There’s something seriously wrong with me because the weird thing is I still want to.”
He gave her a searching look before he dug into his pocket and removed a narrow key. He reached for her hand and turned the security bracelet on her wrist so he could unlock it. He tossed it into the back seat.
“Let’s do it.”
Quinn kissed him. “See, this is why I love you.”
* * * * *
The Bellagio had a honeymoon suite available.
Quinn hissed when she heard the price for an overnight stay. “We don’t have to stay here, you know.”
“We’ll only have one honeymoon,” Reif assured her. He smiled at the clerk and handed over his American Express Platinum card.
“If you can have our bags taken up,” he told the clerk, “we have some shopping to do.”
“Certainly, sir.” Reif tipped the bellhop and steered Quinn to the boutiques across the lobby.
“What are we shopping for?” Quinn asked.
“A dress for you.”
“I’m wearing a dress.”
“A wedding dress.”
“Reif, that’s a ridiculous waste of money, especially if you buy it here—”
Reif brought them to a stop and put a finger over her lips. “Let me do this. We’ll have another wedding, in a church, because I’m pretty sure Tony and your father are going to insist on it. But this is
our
wedding, just you and me.”
“I know,” Quinn mumbled against his finger.
“It’s no big deal what suit and tie I wear, as long as it’s black. But I want you to have something that looks like a wedding dress, even if it isn’t.”
If Quinn hadn’t already been warming to the idea of shopping for a new dress, the look in Reif’s eyes would have won her over. “Okay.”
“Shoes, too.”
“Shoes, too.”
“And a bouquet.”
“Of course.”
“And pictures.”
“Well, without them, what’s the point of the dress and the bouquet?”
“Exactly,” he whispered. He kissed her. Her toes tingled. From that moment on she floated. Right up until she was supposed to walk down the aisle of the Bellagio’s East Wedding Chapel.
Reif was there along with an older gentleman to perform the ceremony and a young woman who would serve as a witness. Quinn paused at the threshold in her new dress and strappy high-heels, clutching her bouquet of creamy roses.
I’m getting married. To Reif Callaghan. This is it. He’ll be my husband. Forever.
It was a sobering thought. An
adult
thought. Suddenly Quinn wasn’t sure she was enough of an adult to be married. It froze her in her tracks. She couldn’t move.
Reif stood next to the podium, hands clasped in front of him. He smiled at her as the terror sunk in. She really couldn’t move. At all. She beckoned to him. Reif said something to the others and came down the aisle to her. He took her hand. It was like ice in his.
“What is it?”
“What if I blow it?”
“You can’t blow it. All you have to do is say ‘I do’ and sign your name.”
“No. What if I blow being married to you? What if I screw it up? If I’m selfish and mean or if I do something really bad that you can’t forgive and you end up hating me—” Quinn was starting to hyperventilate. Her stomach twisted itself into a knot.
“Quinn. Quinn?” Reif slid his knuckles across her cheek. “You won’t screw it up. There’s nothing you could do I wouldn’t forgive. As long as you promise never to do it again, that is.”
“Are you sure?”
“Hey, what if
I’m
the one who screws up? We take a chance on each other. We take it together.”
“I know, but—”
“It’s not too late to back out. If you’re not ready,” Reif reminded her.
Quinn looked around at the chapel, at her dress, her flowers. At Reif who was looking at her with such love in his eyes, such patience in his voice.
“I don’t want to back out. I just, I don’t know, panicked there for a minute. I don’t want to make you unhappy.”
“Quinn. You just keep on being you. That’s what makes me happy.”
She smiled, a weight lifted off her chest. “Well, at least I can promise to do that.”
“Want me to walk you down the aisle?”
“I’d like that.”
The ceremony was a blur. Simple and quick. Quinn stared at the ring he produced when the officiate asked. It was a ring almost exactly like the one she’d lingered over in the jewelry store weeks ago. Reif winked.
He slid the ring on her finger and they were pronounced man and wife. Part of Quinn thought the kiss that followed lasted longer than the entire ceremony. She didn’t want it to end. She wanted to stand here in Reif’s arms and kiss him forever. But a throat clearing for a second time ended it.
She signed the forms and smiled for the photographer.
* * * * *
When they exited the chapel, Reif said, “I ordered something from room service but we can go to dinner if you’d like—”
“No. The honeymoon starts right now.” Quinn dragged Reif down to the elevators, and once inside they resumed their interrupted kiss.
When the doors opened on their floor Reif finally came up for air. “What I said? About you being you?
This
is what I was talking about.”
Reif opened the honeymoon suite and swung Quinn up into his arms. He kicked the door closed behind them and set her down on the bed.
There was one bedside light burning. Quinn barely noticed the rose petals scattered across the turned down linens or the serving cart heaped with covered dishes and champagne chilling.
All that mattered was Reif and the way he looked at her. He held her head in his hands and when he kissed her she dropped her bouquet.
He wasn’t in any hurry to move on. Not the way she thought he’d be. Not the way she thought she’d be, either. She’d imagined them tearing each other’s clothes off. She’d teased Reif for weeks, pushed him to what she thought must be the limit of his endurance, but he kissed her now like he had all the time in the world.
We do
, she thought with the part of her brain that wasn’t occupied absorbing the sensation of his lips on hers. They had all the time in the world.
“What?” Reif mumbled against her lips because he must have felt them smile beneath his.
“So far, I like being married to you.”
“Me too.” He kissed her some more. “Think we’ve got our money’s worth out of this dress?”
“I think so. That’s a lot of under-the-table pizza money there.”
He slid the zipper down and the creamy silk dress slid to the floor.
Reif gazed at her. “Did I spring for some new underwear, too?”
“You sure did.” She spun so the short slip whirled around her thighs. “Worth it?”
“I’d say so.” He kept his eyes on her while he loosened his tie and yanked it off and threw his jacket over a nearby chair.
“What’s underneath this?” He asked grinning down at her.
“More underwear.” She gave him a devilish grin of her own and yanked the slip off over her head, revealing a lacy white bra and panty set.
He stood close enough to rest both hands on her hips. “
Very
nice.”
“And what have you got under here?” she asked innocently as she started unbuttoning his shirt.
“Same old thing.”
“It’s not old.” She pressed a kiss to his chest. “It’s you.” She kissed her way along his throat while he shrugged out of his shirt.
“Quinn.” He tilted her head back and kissed her.
So much for all the time in the world
. He pressed hard against her. She undid his belt, button, zipper. His pants hit the floor, pooling around his ankles.
Her bra came off at the moment they fell onto the bed. Reif kicked off his shoes and peeled off his socks and then they were even.
He propped himself on an elbow and caressed her breasts, teasing the peaks. She watched him, her fingers clenching the sheet beneath her. She watched as he dropped his head and took a nipple into his mouth. Fire roared through her at the same time a wave of tenderness overtook her. She touched his hair, his shoulder, wherever she could. He moved his mouth to her other breast and she started to tremble.
Reif moved over her. Her legs parted so he could rest between them, that huge, hard part of him pressed against her brand new panties.
She could go on like this forever, Reif’s mouth doing all kinds of wonderful things while his cock pressed against her through those thin layers of fabric.
He’d accused her more than once of driving him crazy but now he was the driver. She wrapped her legs around him, urging him to touch her where she needed to be touched, except she wasn’t quite sure where that was because everywhere he touched felt
so damn good
.
He moved away and slid his hand under her panties, his fingers sliding against the wet heat he’d created. It was wonderful and maddening and frustrating and wonderful again until he withdrew his fingers and she almost cried “no” until she realized he was drawing those pretty panties away from her, down her legs and then they were gone and so were his boxer briefs.
She opened herself to him again. He touched her, first with his fingers, and then with his tongue. Time screamed past while an orgasm whipped through her.
She lost all sense of time and place as the wild pulsing wound down to be replaced by another sensation, that of Reif filling her. She gasped as he drove in. She drew her knees up and locked her arms and legs around him. Time slowed again while he stayed there, throbbing inside of her while they kissed.