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“Then the best—” his lips brushed over hers in tantalisingly seductive play as he murmured “—can certainly be achieved.”
And he kissed her so erotically, her mind spun with sensual excitement and every nerve in her body zinged with anticipation of the intense pleasure Quin would undoubtedly deliver. Which he did. Pure physical bliss. Her entire being hummed with delicious exultation as he drove her through climax after climax. Somehow it was like an ecstatic celebration of being a woman, feeling every part of her femininity being loved, adored, savoured, and she revelled in every moment of it.
And she knew in her heart of hearts, that she would only ever respond to Quin like this. She didn’t understand why it was so, but in some deeply primitive way she belonged with him. Maybe it was wrong to expect him to think and feel as she did. He was a man with a strong hunter’s instinct, a man who would always go after what he wanted, letting nothing distract him from his prime target.
Could she blame him for being what he was?
Hadn’t that always been an integral part of his attraction?
She let herself love him with her hands, her mouth, her legs—a sweet voluptuous loving as she moved in rhythm to the swift, concentrated drive towards his own climax, luxuriating in the fine tension of his body, knowing he was totally focused on reaching this final intimate union with her and nothing else mattered but the moment of spilling himself inside her, the hot fusion that made them one.
She lifted her body in an arch of uninhibited giving as his release came, her inner muscles convulsing in pleasure around him, and her arms tightened their embrace as he collapsed on top of her, hugging the sweet intimacy for as long as she could. Good, better, best…they were meaningless words. It was heaven being with Quin like this. Always had been.
He rolled onto his back, carrying her with him so they still lay entangled. She loved lying on top of him, feeling the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing gradually slowed to normal. He played with the long tresses of her hair, stroked her back, every caress delightfully sensual, and she couldn’t imagine ever wanting to make love with anyone else.
But sex was only one part of marriage.
It hadn’t been enough to keep her happy with Quin in the past. Would he really share more of himself with her this time around?
The memory of something her friend, Jade Zilic, had said on that fateful night at the Havana Club slid into her mind. It was in answer to her own comment about her previous relationship with Quin—I don’t live at that address anymore.
Maybe he doesn’t, either, Jade had remarked, going on to say that time and timing were very tricky things…shifting sands, different circumstances, revolving doors.
What had driven Quin back then was over, no longer holding any power to influence his behaviour or decisions. Maybe he could really focus on being a decent husband and father. In which case, shouldn’t marriage with him be given a chance? The sands had shifted. And Quin had opened the door to fatherhood and walked right in, committing himself to being Zoe’s daddy in a very real sense.
The big question was…how far could she trust his commitment?
“Did you buy the silver chain for the Ulysses butterfly?” she asked, testing if he’d remembered his promise to Zoe.
The fingers feathering down her spine stopped their caress and pressed into her skin. “Yes, I did,” he answered emphatically. “I’ll bring it with me tomorrow.”
So he wasn’t about to disappoint their daughter.
But that didn’t necessarily mean he would keep the promises made at a wedding ceremony. Zoe was his flesh and blood. Nicole wasn’t. And Quin had never said he loved her.
The fingers dug in. “What about my mother, Nicole? She would love to meet Zoe.”
She sighed and he lightened his touch, not pressuring for a quick reply. It wasn’t easy to decide what to do about his mother. Everything felt so rushed. Yet the woman had flown all the way from Argentina to make amends for her rejection in the past. Though that might only have been because she wanted access to her
grand-daughter.
Flesh and blood again.
But to get to it, Nicole Ashton could not be ignored any more. Zoe was her flesh and blood, too.
So it came down to sharing a child who not only belonged to herself and her own mother, but to Quin and his mother, too. Everything between herself and Quin came down to sharing and not sharing, she thought with bitter irony.
It had to be conceded that he had taken forceful steps this week to redress their previous situation, and tonight’s revelations did explain a lot. They didn’t make her feel any better but at least she could understand where he’d been coming from, which made acceptance of his presence in her life a little easier. And if she accepted him, she probably had to accept his mother, too.
Having come to a decision, she took a deep breath and cautiously lowered her hard-held barriers. “Not tomorrow, Quin. Zoe is expecting to have the day with you. I’ll need to speak to my mother about it but perhaps we could all have lunch together on Sunday.”
His tense stillness was instantly broken. An audible intake of air expanded his chest, then whooshed out as he heaved himself up and rolled Nicole onto her back. Propped on his elbow, he grinned down at her, pleasure and triumph sparkling in his eyes.
“Don’t think that means we’re going to talk about a wedding,” she shot at him, refusing to be manoeuvred all his way.
His grin diminished into a wry little smile. “Thank you, Nicole. To my mind, there has been more than enough punishment for crimes committed. I’m glad you agree.”
Punishment…she frowned over the term. Had she been punishing Quin for not loving her by keeping any knowledge of his child from him? Not consciously, though she certainly had to admit to many vengeful thoughts since meeting him again at the Havana Club.
