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‘And you’re going to feel even better when you see what I’ve got for you.’
‘Quinn!’ Magenta exclaimed, pressing her hand to her chest in pretended outrage.
‘A small gift.’
‘Small? If it’s something small, I can relax.’
‘You can,’ Quinn confirmed, drawing her with him into his office. ‘Well? What do you think?’ he said, standing back.
Magenta stared at the dress hanging on a padded hanger from a hook. She had to say something. It was expected of her. Good manners demanded she must say something. ‘Thank you,’ she stuttered, wondering if the world and everyone in it had gone mad.
‘There’s a pair of shoes I thought you might like too—and some opaque-black tights to finish off the outfit.’
She was the one who was about to be finished off, as her heart banged wildly in her chest. Did she believe in second sight? No. Could dreams predict the future? No again. So, how to explain the figure-flattering dress in navy-blue silk and the pair of red-soled shoes? ‘Quinn, these are fabulous—and exactly what I would have chosen myself.’ Given a huge hike in salary, Magenta thought, giving herself a moment to salivate over the fabulous shoes. ‘How did you know what I’d like?’
‘An informed guess,’ he explained, thumbing his stubble.
But there was something else, something she couldn’t read behind Quinn’s steady gaze. ‘And you’re sure you don’t dream at night?’ she said.
CHAPTER TWENTY
THEY were both lost in their own thoughts on the drive home from the office. The party had been a huge success, with no time for further revelations from Quinn or opportunity for Magenta to dig for clues.
Which was probably just as well, Magenta reflected as she stroked the delicate panels of her new silk dress. Tonight belonged to their colleagues, and their cheers still rang in her ears. She would never have been able to join in the celebrations if she and Quinn had got any deeper into a discussion about dreams. But there was nothing to stop her doing a little probing now. ‘What made you buy the dress for me?’
He glanced across. ‘Intuition told me it might come in useful.’
And, as his lips curved in a grin, she pressed, ‘Intuition? Do you often get presentiments about the future?’
‘I get hunches,’ he admitted. ‘Am I psychic? I wouldn’t have taken so long to get where I am today if I were.’
‘Thirty-two is rather ancient,’ Magenta agreed wryly.
‘Your place or mine?’
A bolt of arousal hit her. Quinn as always had come right to the point. Reluctantly, she put her sensible head on. ‘Wherever we can talk.’ Quinn wasn’t getting off the hook so easily this time.
‘Mine’s closer.’
‘Sounds good to me.’
This time when they went inside she made the coffee and laid her cards out on the table right away. ‘Quinn—discussion first.’
‘Hmm, this sounds serious.’ He reached past her for the mugs and, while her guard was down, he swung his arm around her waist. ‘I’ll issue any timetables we have around here.’ Quinn stared her in the eyes, leaving Magenta in no doubt as to his agenda.
The click of the coffee machine was Quinn’s cue to release her. ‘Boy, do I need this,’ he said, pouring them both a generous slug.
While he was distracted she led the way into his orangerie where they could see the stars as they talked. She trembled with awareness when Quinn came up behind her. She put her hands over his and rested back against his chest as she gazed up at the waxing moon. ‘So, Quinn, do you dream?’
Quinn took the coffee mug out of her hands and put it on a small glass-topped table. ‘Maybe,’ he admitted. ‘I’m usually asleep, so I can’t be sure.’
‘Quinn.’ She turned to face him. ‘I’m being serious.’
‘Oh, really?’ His faint smile was softly mocking. ‘How can that be, when all you want is for me to admit that we meet up in our dreams? Crazy woman,’ he murmured, drawing her close.
Quinn’s eyes were warm and amused and his lips were close. It would be the easiest thing in the world to sink into his embrace and to forget about everything, but she was determined to discover the truth. ‘I’m not asking you to believe in magic—and, I can assure you, I’m not crazy.’
Quinn held his gaze. ‘What do you want me to say, Magenta?’
‘I just want you to admit that there’s more to life than what we can see and touch, hear and feel.’
Now he was grinning. ‘Do you want me to lose my hard-ass reputation altogether?’
