exchanged.
Quinn ordered a drink, and the two men retreated to a table in the corner. They were both seated, with a glass of whiskey in front of them, before either spoke.
“I only caught a glimpse of my sister,” Corbin began, his dark blue eyes fairly pinning Quinn to the wall. “I will say, however, that I’ve seen her looking better.”
Quinn sighed and took a sip of his whiskey. “I don’t suppose it will come as any surprise to you if I say that Melissa is a stubborn woman. She looks the way she does byher own choice, for her own reasons—the primary one being that she loves to annoy me.”
Adam’s ominous expression gave way to one of amusement. He chuckled and nodded his head. “That’s Melissa,” he said.
Quinn cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair. It wasn’t that he was afraid—for big as Corbin was, he was no larger than Quinn himself—but that he’d never had to explain the virtual abduction of a lady before.
There was no precedent for that.
Seven
Melissa felt the mattress shift and looked up, blinking, to see Quinn bending over her, his hands resting one on either side of her on the bed. Morning sunlight glimmered in his caramel-colored hair and gave his clean white shirt a pristine glow.
“This life of leisure is turning you into a derelict,” he commented with a wink.
Melissa sat up so rapidly that their heads would surely have crashed together had it not been for Quinn’s quick step backward. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in a testy whisper. “What time is it?”
Quinn folded his arms, showing no sign that he planned to give so much as an inch of ground, and arched one eyebrow. “To answer your first question,” he began evenly, “I’m here because this is my room. As for your second, it’s time you were out of bed, that’s what time it is.”
Suppressing an infantile urge to put out her tongue, Melissa sat up, being very careful to keep the covers pulled to her chin. She ran one hand nervously through her tangled hair. “How did your interview with my mother go?” sheasked, her jawline set at an obstinate angle. “Is she going to have you shot, horsewhipped, or fed to the dogfish?”
Quinn grinned at her, and Melissa wondered if the rascal knew how greatly that enhanced his charm. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s downstairs right now, having breakfast with your brother.”
Melissa’s eyes went wide.
Bending suavely, Quinn laid an impudent index finger to Melissa’s chin. “I can see that you’re too overcome with joy to speak,” he teased.
“They like you?” Melissa breathed, stunned.
Quinn shrugged, looking obnoxiously pleased with himself. “It seems they think I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, dear heart.”
Melissa’s mouth dropped open. She immediately closed it.
“Your brother is of the opinion that a husband’s firm, guiding hand might just bring you around,” Quinn went on.
Fury rose in Melissa’s throat, practically choking her. “‘Bring—me—around?’” she repeated in a disbelieving sputter. Then she flung back the covers, shot to her knees, and yelled, “ ‘Bring me around,’ is it? Why, that arrogant, pompous meathead! I’ll box his ears!”
Quinn laughed and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his silk brocade vest. “My darling Melissa,” he said, “how I love your sweet-natured ways.”
Melissa flung one pillow at him and then the other. “Get out!” she screamed.
He didn’t move. “This is my room,” he reiterated. “If anybody’s going to be thrown out, it’s you.” His dark eyes moved idly over the thin camisole and drawers she’d worn to bed, leaving a heated ache wherever they touched. “However,” he eventually went on—and now his voice was very low—“I could be persuaded to let you stay.”
After giving her husband one glaring look Melissa made her way to the opposite side of the bed on her knees, then got hastily to her feet. She
Quinn ordered a drink, and the two men retreated to a table in the corner. They were both seated, with a glass of whiskey in front of them, before either spoke.
“I only caught a glimpse of my sister,” Corbin began, his dark blue eyes fairly pinning Quinn to the wall. “I will say, however, that I’ve seen her looking better.”
Quinn sighed and took a sip of his whiskey. “I don’t suppose it will come as any surprise to you if I say that Melissa is a stubborn woman. She looks the way she does byher own choice, for her own reasons—the primary one being that she loves to annoy me.”
Adam’s ominous expression gave way to one of amusement. He chuckled and nodded his head. “That’s Melissa,” he said.
Quinn cleared his throat and shifted uneasily in his chair. It wasn’t that he was afraid—for big as Corbin was, he was no larger than Quinn himself—but that he’d never had to explain the virtual abduction of a lady before.
There was no precedent for that.
Seven
Melissa felt the mattress shift and looked up, blinking, to see Quinn bending over her, his hands resting one on either side of her on the bed. Morning sunlight glimmered in his caramel-colored hair and gave his clean white shirt a pristine glow.
“This life of leisure is turning you into a derelict,” he commented with a wink.
Melissa sat up so rapidly that their heads would surely have crashed together had it not been for Quinn’s quick step backward. “What are you doing here?” she demanded in a testy whisper. “What time is it?”
Quinn folded his arms, showing no sign that he planned to give so much as an inch of ground, and arched one eyebrow. “To answer your first question,” he began evenly, “I’m here because this is my room. As for your second, it’s time you were out of bed, that’s what time it is.”
Suppressing an infantile urge to put out her tongue, Melissa sat up, being very careful to keep the covers pulled to her chin. She ran one hand nervously through her tangled hair. “How did your interview with my mother go?” sheasked, her jawline set at an obstinate angle. “Is she going to have you shot, horsewhipped, or fed to the dogfish?”
Quinn grinned at her, and Melissa wondered if the rascal knew how greatly that enhanced his charm. “Why don’t you ask her yourself? She’s downstairs right now, having breakfast with your brother.”
Melissa’s eyes went wide.
Bending suavely, Quinn laid an impudent index finger to Melissa’s chin. “I can see that you’re too overcome with joy to speak,” he teased.
“They like you?” Melissa breathed, stunned.
Quinn shrugged, looking obnoxiously pleased with himself. “It seems they think I’m the best thing that’s ever happened to you, dear heart.”
Melissa’s mouth dropped open. She immediately closed it.
“Your brother is of the opinion that a husband’s firm, guiding hand might just bring you around,” Quinn went on.
Fury rose in Melissa’s throat, practically choking her. “‘Bring—me—around?’” she repeated in a disbelieving sputter. Then she flung back the covers, shot to her knees, and yelled, “ ‘Bring me around,’ is it? Why, that arrogant, pompous meathead! I’ll box his ears!”
Quinn laughed and hooked his thumbs into the pockets of his silk brocade vest. “My darling Melissa,” he said, “how I love your sweet-natured ways.”
Melissa flung one pillow at him and then the other. “Get out!” she screamed.
He didn’t move. “This is my room,” he reiterated. “If anybody’s going to be thrown out, it’s you.” His dark eyes moved idly over the thin camisole and drawers she’d worn to bed, leaving a heated ache wherever they touched. “However,” he eventually went on—and now his voice was very low—“I could be persuaded to let you stay.”
After giving her husband one glaring look Melissa made her way to the opposite side of the bed on her knees, then got hastily to her feet. She
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