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The spaghetti bolognese was wonderful, and Quinn was highly appreciative; they fed the kittens again and the mother cat ate more food and drank a saucer full of creamy milk—and Quinn kept the co
nversation light and easy. Her work, his work; the advantages and pitfalls of small-town life; art and books… All safe, fairly innocuous subjects. He was amusing and funny and entertaining and the time just flew, and when—at just gone eleven—he decided that the cat and her kittens could stay with Candy for the night at least, she was amazed that it was so late.
When she opened the front door for him to leave they saw it had stopped snowing and the white glistening world outside the cottage was breathtakingly silent. The moon was shedding a thin hollow light into the darkness, turning the frost lying like crystals on the snow to a carpet of diamond dust. It was cold, bitterly cold, and as Quinn stepped out into the garden Candy shivered.
'Don't catch cold.' He took her hand as he spoke, leaning forward and brushing her cheek with the lightest of gossamer kisses as he said, 'Thanks for the dinner, Candy; I haven't enjoyed myself so much in ages.'
It was a social kiss, the kiss of a friend, and despite her pounding heart she said steadily, 'Thank you for coming to our rescue,' and ignored what the smell and feel of him had done to her nerve-endings.
'My pleasure.' Quinn didn't want a relationship, and he knew the tall, slim redhead in front of him wanted one even less. So why, knowing that, was he finding it difficult to leave? he asked himself silently. Why did he want to take her in his arms properly and kiss her until they both went up in flames and he was back in the cottage and up the stairs and in her bed? 'I'll call you in the morning and see how they are.' He indicated towards the wicker basket behind Candy with an inclination of his head.
'I think they are going to be fine.'
That accent of hers, the soft, slow, easy drawl, was incredibly sexy. She was incredibly sexy. All glowing tumbled hair and big bright wide eyes. But he wasn't in the market for sexy redheads, or not this one anyway. Candy was Xavier's niece and Essie had cast him in the role of protector, which was fair enough. And he would fulfil that role to the best of his ability. No problem.
'I think so too, but that presents its own set of problems,' Quinn said steadily. 'For a start the cat might have got lost and have an anxious owner looking for it And, like I said, a cat and kittens are expensive both in terms of time and money.'
'Do you think that? That she might have an owner who is looking for her?' Candy asked anxiously.
'Would that be so bad?'
'Yes.' It was immediate, and although he had sensed that would be her answer he inwardly groaned. She'd fallen in love with the little family. She was too tender-hearted and compassionate by half, the sort of person the world delighted in kicking in the teeth.
Immediately the thought hit he didn't like it. He knew nothing about Candy Grey and furthermore he didn't want to know anything, besides which he, of all people, knew that the female sex were experts in projecting the image they wanted you to see. She might be as hardboiled as they come under that marshmallow softness.
Although he knew that wasn't the case.
Again he refuted his gut instinct and said instead, his ebony eyes unreadable and his voice cool, 'You have to face the fact there might be an owner out there who wants her back, Candy. And what are you going to do with a cat and three kittens anyway?'
'Look after them, love them.'
Hell. He nodded abruptly. 'Well, we'll see. Don't worry about it for now, and, like I said, I'll give you a call in the morning.'
'All right.'
It was disconsolate, and again he had to resist the impulse to take her into his arms. He wasn't sure what he was feeling, but as his heart began to hammer in his ribcage it was a warning to leave.
'Goodnight, Candy.'
This time he turned and made his way towards the gate through the snow, which was inches thick, and it wasn't until he was seated in the Landrover Discovery that he glanced back towards the lighted doorway. She was still standing there, the light behind her silhouetting her slim shape in the bright red sweater and black leggings she was wearing.
He started the engine, raised a hand briefly and backed the big vehicle carefully past Candy's car and out into the lane. And then he drove away without looking towards the cottage again.
As the vehicle ploughed up the narrow track Quinn found his thoughts were going round and round in his head. He didn't like the emotions that had besieged him throughout the night. For the last three years he had kept both his thoughts and his feelings under firm control and that was the way it was going to stay, he told himself grimly as his eyes hardened.
He had had enough of bowel-twisting emotion to last him a lifetime, more than enough. Never again would a woman do to him what Laura had done. He breathed deeply through his nose, refusing to allow the memories he kept behind the closed door of his mind to break out.
He was satisfied with his life. He had his own successful practice which was growing daily; he would soon need to employ another veterinary and perhaps another nurse to assist on a part-time basis. The flat above the surgery was very much a bachelor pad but more than suited his needs; he had had to change very little of the decor or furnishings Xavier had bought and sold along with the business. He dated when it suited him—casual, no-strings-attached affairs, where each party knew the score and acted accordingly. He operated on the powers of reason and logic. He had been a blind fool once but he would never make the same mistake again.
It was friendship he had offered Candy and it was friendship she had accepted, and if ever he felt it was bordering on something else… It would be dealt with, and ruthlessly.
He reached the top of the lane and nosed the four-by-four carefully into the main road, straightened his shoulders, raked back his hair and put all further thoughts of Candy Grey out of his mind.
Candy fed the cat twice more during the night, and by the time Quinn telephoned just after ten the kittens were feeding from their mother and everything in the house was hunky-dory. Almost.
If she had allowed her mind to linger on the uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach it would have told her the deep-seated agitation was less to do with the fact that there might be an anxious owner waiting to claim the cat and more to do with a certain ebony-eyed vet But she didn't dwell on her misgivings over the wisdom of elevating Quinn to the position of friend beyond reassuring herself, several times, that she was perfectly in control of all the circumstances in her life at present, beyond that of the felines' ultimate home.
'Candy?' Quinn's voice was cool and calm, even remote. He was obviously in work mode, she thought, and this was a duty call because he had promised. 'How are things?'
