Deadly Secrets (17 page)

“Do you take a cab to your yoga thing?”

“Thing? You mean my job? For most of us, jobs are not ‘things’ but necessary parts of life.”

He took another breath and held up his hands. “Fine. Do you take a cab to work?” he asked precisely.

Her head tilted and she just looked at him. “Protective much? Quin, I survived just fine before you. I’m fine.”

“You know when you get all snappy it turns me on.”

“Everything turns you on.”

“I’m a guy, where you’re concerned that’s the truth. So that’s a no, you don’t take cabs?”

“Not always, why?”

He opened his mouth, thought better of it and shut it. She just stared at him.

“Fine. I don’t like it,” he blurted.

“Excuse me? Don’t like what? The fact I work?”

“You want to pick a fight, don’t you?” he asked, shaking his head. “No, I’m fine with you working. I don’t like the idea of you walking the Quarter by yourself. Please take a cab.”

“Honey, you worry way too much.” She shoved the water bottle in a multicolored bag she always carried. “No one will hurt me. Everyone walks here.”

He walked over to her and put his hands on her shoulders. “I know you are independent and used to being on your own. And though we don’t know where we or us will be tomorrow . . . for now, you are
mine
.”

His?

Her eyes flashed, but she didn’t say anything.

“I protect what’s mine.” He leaned down and kissed her softly, just a press of lips against hers. “Always.”

She stared at him for a moment and he wondered what she would say.

Finally, her breath huffed out. “Fine, if it’ll keep your sensibilities aligned I’ll take a cab.”

He didn’t smile.

“This time,” she had to add. “It’s amazing I managed in life until you ran into me.”

He smiled behind her as she went back to the bedroom.

“Are you staying another day or not?” she hollered from the room.

He was already packed, and honestly, he probably should get back to D.C. But he didn’t really want to.

“Tomorrow. Don’t worry, I have things to check on at the hotel here.” She came back into the living room, her bag slung over her shoulder.

“You can stay there with me tonight if you want.”

She shook her head. “I like my own space. Hotels are so . . .” She scrunched up her nose. “Sterile.”

They gathered their stuff and she grabbed her keys. He waited while she locked up and looked up and down the street. Granted, there were not many people out now. Too early in the morning, but still . . .

He caught the glance from the corner of her eyes. “Look, why don’t we compromise. You can walk me to the studio, call a cab and go to the hotel?”

He supposed that was as good as it would get. “Yes, I’ll beat any would-be muggers off with my cane.”

“Oh, I know you would. And I could”—she skipped ahead of him and whirled her bag around—“beat them with my bag.”

He smiled, innocence flashing briefly in the midst of this place.

She waited for him. “You know, it’s Monday. You could go with me tonight to the shelter.”

“Sure. Railey Anne’s mom find a job yet?”

“No, not yet.” She released a breath he hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Okay? Just like that?”

“Yeah, why not?”

Her eyes ran over him from the top of his head to his shoes. Businessman that he was, he knew he also fit in here, morning or night, on these streets.

“I still get surprised to see you helping out at the shelter, I don’t know why. Stupid, I know, but you don’t exactly look like the shelter type.”

So he hadn’t been in a while, that was true. “It’s not like I haven’t ever been to shelters or helped out. Mom used to take us over our holiday breaks.”

“Really?”

He nodded. “I hear the snobbery in that one word.”

She shrugged. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Mom gave medical care where she could. Kids need care and they don’t always go to the clinics near the shelters, even if they are free. Mom has a way with people, they just sort of trust her.”

She chuckled and he laced their hands together. He didn’t think about the fact she didn’t pull away. He was just glad of it.

“So what did you do there while she did her nurse thing?”

He didn’t correct her assumption that his mom was a nurse, as he hadn’t told her his mother used to be a pediatric surgeon. She already shied and dropped hints about the differences in their economic brackets. Stupid as hell is what it was.

Intelligent was intelligent. Beauty was beauty and chemistry was chemistry.

Married was married.

“Drew. Colored. Painted,” he admitted. It was the only time he did any of those things after Susy died when they were seven. “Whatever. I usually drew with the kids. Brought some paints a few times. Easier though to just do stuff with markers and pencils and whatnot.”

She tilted her head again, the sun glinting off the purple strands. He sort of missed the blue. Cotton candy, Aiden called her.

He smiled.

“I have yoga at the senior center late this afternoon.”

“I know, I remember. And tomorrow morning at the nursing home.”

She pulled on their joined hands until he leaned down.

“You are really short,” he muttered.

She kissed his cheek. “You are just used to a family of giants.”

“Fe fie fo fum . . .” He waggled his brows. “And you make a pretty princess.”

She shoved him. “Hurry up. I’m going to be late.”

“My fondest wish . . .” She glared at him.

* * *

The night grew quiet around them as they sat on the couch. Dinner was done and the kitchen straightened up. His flight was in the morning.

She shifted again beside him.

“What aren’t you telling me?” he finally asked. She’d acted off this morning, but he just wrote that off as her running late. Lately though, she was quieter, and that just wasn’t like her; he’d come to realize she shared her thoughts, opinions, hopes, dreams, whatever was on her mind. This weekend, though, she’d been too quiet.

Finally she turned to him and took a deep breath and then another.

His stomach tightened. He reached over and picked up her hand. “Just tell me.”

“Before I met you, I applied for a job.” She shrugged. “I’ve been thinking of moving for some time and well . . .” She blew out a breath. “Confession. I got the job and accepted it.”

He sat there for a minute and then another. Finally, he stood up. “Okay. Where’s the job?”

For one stupid moment, he wondered if she’d say in the D.C. area. Of course not.

“New Mexico. Taos, actually.”

He strode to the window. “New Mexico. What kind of job?”

“Well, a yoga instructor like I am here.”

“What’s wrong with here?”

He heard her sigh, but he didn’t turn around. “Nothing, but I’ve never been one to plan my choices around a man. I did that once and it ended badly.”

He turned and looked at her. “When? What happened?” Then he shook his head. “Never mind, I guess it’s none of my business.” She’d never mentioned a job or a possible move, but then why would she? She’d been adamant from the beginning about what she thought of them together, of their marriage.

“Quinlan, I’ve tried the rich boy marriage before, and trust me when I say it would not work. Not for the long haul.”

He shook his head. Married. She’d been married before. “You never said you’d been married before.”

“Like that would have made a difference. We went to Vegas, we got drunk as college co-eds and visited a twenty-four-hour marriage chapel, for God’s sake!” She stood up and started to pace. “Can we just leave it at the fact that Lance and I did not work? He chose his very important family, very prominent family.”

“Over you? Man was an idiot.”

She raked a hand through her hair. “He knew we were from different worlds before I did.”

“Different worlds? Hell, Ella, this is the twenty-first century! No one cares about that crap. We’re married.”

She held up her hand. “I don’t want to be, Quin. I’m a free spirit, you even said.”

“You’re
my
free spirit. Do I . . .” He bit down. “Damn it, Ella. We’re married! Why won’t you give us a chance?”

“You’re a great guy. An amazing guy.”

He simply looked at her. “If this is where you say something stupid like ‘it’s not you, it’s me,’ I’d advise you to keep those words to yourself.”

“Okay, then.” She paced away and then back.

He had no idea what to say. “Why? Is it because of this other guy?” A dark feeling crept into him. “Did he hurt you?”

She shook her head. “Not in the way you mean. No. It’s just . . . He came from a family like yours and . . .” She swallowed. “I’m not going into it all. It just didn’t work, Quinlan.”

“So what? A marriage when you were younger didn’t work out,” he tried. “That’s not to say ours wouldn’t. It was a while ago, when you were younger?”

She merely looked at him. “Yes. Years ago, actually.”

“Okay then. I still don’t see the problem, Ella. We’re adults. I want this. I want you. I want—”

“Fine. You want this? You want me? If this marriage is so damned real, so important to you, then why haven’t you told your family about me?” she said on a rush, and he saw it then, a flash of hurt in her aquamarine eyes before they flashed angry. “Why haven’t you told them about us? About the marriage at all? It’s been over six weeks, Quin, since we did the deed. Two weeks apart and every weekend since. Why in all that time haven’t you told me what they thought of our little surprise?”

He could only stare at her.

And she only stared at him. “See. I was stupid to think . . .” She sighed. “Again. I don’t blame you, I don’t, not really or maybe I do. I don’t know. I just know I’m not the type of woman a man like you takes home to his mother. I was taught that the hard way once. Guess I needed another reminder.”

He slashed his hand through the air. “Stop it. Stop talking about yourself that way.”

“Evidence speaks, Quin.”

He’d fucked up. He hadn’t known what he’d wanted, he’d wallowed in self-pity and wondering what to do and now here he stood.

“I’ll tell them. We can call them now.”

She swallowed, then met his eyes, her chin jutting up. “Now?” She shook her head. “I took the job, I’ve already got a place to live. I’m going to New Mexico and I don’t want you to follow me.”

Quinlan could only stand there. He blinked then blinked again.

“This isn’t it. We are
not
over.”

She swallowed and her eyes, always so bright with life and laughter, dulled. “I get you were probably confused and I know you were working through what happened to you and what that woman did to you.”

He’d told her of Elianya one night.

“What does that have to do with us?”

“Quinlan, there’s not really an us. We were . . . we were a good time for each other. We were . . . we were sort of a weekend fling that went a little longer than either one of us anticipated.”

“A weekend fling?” He wanted this to work for them. “I was looking for houses back home for us, guess that was a mistake too.”

She blinked but didn’t say another word.

“I was thinking and planning on a future for us and you were already moving on,” he said softly. He walked back to the bedroom and grabbed his bag. “All you had to say was no, Ella. That one word and I would have respected it and left.”

He grabbed his jacket and walked to the door.

“And yet, you never once told anyone about us, did you? For someone planning for us to be a permanent us, that seems odd.”

He was pissed, angry at her for not seeing them as he did, and at himself for exactly what she was accusing him of.

“You can’t have it both ways, Quinlan.”

He turned back and looked at her standing there in leggings and one of his damned T-shirts that swallowed her.

“Did you tell anyone about us?”

She nodded. “Yeah, I told Shalon and Marie, who told me to go for it. Who wouldn’t want a handsome rich husband? I only said I didn’t need a rich husband, handsome was negotiable. I didn’t tell them that you had yet to tell your family about me.”

He swallowed and nodded. “We can make this work.”

“Maybe, maybe not,” she said, waving her hands as she started to pace. “But I want time to think, to follow through with my own plans without you there telling me what we need or don’t need to be.”

There might still be a chance.

She held up her hand. “I leave at the end of the week and I already talked to a realtor.”

“Realtor?” The ground that had been so solid and real for the last month had shifted, quick as hot sand, and he couldn’t find even ground. Realtor?