Dream Lover (5 page)

Neither of them spoke for the journey from their twelfth floor suite to the lounge located on the first floor until they were in the bar. She couldn’t, she was too surprised that he should suddenly rearrange her hair and comment on her figure. His words ‘
I like curvy women
,’ kept repeating over and over in her head, for a moment she was tempted to remind him she wasn’t ‘
his woman, so what did it matter how curvy she was?

‘Quinn,’ he tutted impatiently and touched her arm, ‘Quinn, what do you want to drink?’ he repeated while the waiter hovered to take their order.

‘Oh... gin and tonic please,’ her head was in a spin suddenly she was concerned about the way he was looking at her. What if he was one of those bosses who expected his personal assistant to be very personal?’ Suddenly she was concerned there was no lock on her bedroom door to keep him out of her room, her first overnight stay with him was turning into a nightmare.

While the waiter disappeared to get their drinks she crossed and uncrossed her legs, a totally nervous gesture, until she realised Maxwell was watching her then she clamped her knees and ankles tightly together.

‘Your name...Quinn it’s unusual for a woman,’ he commented.

‘My mother is Irish, it’s a family name, and almost every female member of the family has Quinn as their second name. Mum decided to be different and used it for my first name,’ she explained. She waited for a few moments to see if he made any further comment but all he did was nod.

‘What did you do before you came to work at Cordell and Smyth?’ he asked breaking the small silence which had built up between them.

‘I was the p.a. for one of the junior executives of Traynor Industries.’

His brows rose for a moment, ‘Impressive, how long were you there?’

‘Nearly two years, I hated it,’ she told him; surprising even herself that she admitted it.

‘Why?’ he asked his brows knitting back together again.

She gave a half laugh, ‘I wouldn’t know where to start,’ her own brow creased as she recalled some of the terrible abuse she had suffered at the hands of her ex employer, her reason for not working for men.

‘Quinn,’ he said softly as she went into a world of her own.

She shook her head, ‘Sorry, I don’t want to discuss it, it’s in my personnel file if you really want to know,’ then after a moment added, ‘I find it too distressing to talk about.’

He shrugged his immaculately dressed shoulders, ‘How long have you been with us or don’t you want to talk about that either?’ he asked coolly.

Angered at his lack of consideration she looked straight into his eyes, ‘It feels like years but it’s in fact seven months, okay?’

To her surprise he laughed out loud. ‘So I take it you don’t like working for my company any more than the last one?’

‘Right,’ she snapped picking up her drink she took a long sip and wondered why she had asked for it, she hated gin and carefully placed the glass down on the table.

Maxwell studied her face carefully for a long moment, ‘what is it you don’t like the company or just me?’ he asked.

‘I’ll leave you to work that one out for yourself,’ she retorted sweetly, realising she shouldn’t push him too far; after all he was the boss and really she enjoyed working for the company no matter what she hinted to him.

‘You’re not afraid of speaking your mind, are you Quinn?’ he held his whiskey tumbler between his hands and inspected the pale golden liquid while he spoke.

‘No, no more than you are,’ she raised her glass to him and smiled at his slightly outraged expression. ‘But just so you know, I’m not a doormat and won’t be treated as one!’ She told him stiffly, Maxwell Cordell was probably the type of boss who thought he could yell and shout at everyone and expect them to love him for it.

He narrowed his eyes but said nothing for a moment or two, ‘Time to mingle,’ he stood up and took hold of her arm and pulled her firmly from her from her seat and for the next couple of hours they managed to be quite civilised toward each other.

Maxwell seemed to want to introduce Quinn to every executive in his company, once or twice when he told them she was his personal assistant their brows would lift, just for a fraction of a second in surprise. One or two going as far as to commenting on the fact she was female, when she questioned them she was told, ‘He never has women working close to him, never,’ but no one would tell her why.

Quinn had been to the restroom and was making her way back when she found herself face to face with Giles Rothwell, very much the worse for drink.

‘Join me for a drink?’ he slurred lurching toward her.

Quickly she tried to side step him but failed, ‘No thank you I have to get back to Maxwell,’ she looked over his shoulder in the hope of seeing a familiar face.

‘Come on Miss Quinn, loosen up a little,’ he swayed unsteadily, ‘tell me your name, mine’s Giles,’ he coaxed.

‘I’ve already told you its Quinn.’

‘Miss Quinn,’ he snorted, ‘a couple of drinks will loosen you up just nicely.’

Suddenly the lift doors opened behind her, when she turned toward the sound he pushed her quickly inside. Quinn’s heel caught and snapped and had to struggle to keep her balance, as drunk as Giles was he took the situation to his advantage and pinned her against the mirror wall inside the lift.

‘How about a kiss, Miss Quinn,’ he held her tightly, pushing her against the cool glass wall.

Twisting her head one way then the other she avoided his alcohol laced breath for a few moments. But when his mouth eventually made contact with her own she did the only thing she could and bit hard on his lip.

She did not expect his retaliation to be so brutal; stunned she slid down the glass wall as his fist connected with her face. Taking advantage of her stunned condition the moment the lift stopped on his floor Giles dragged her quickly toward his room. Quinn was horrified as blood poured down her face and landed in big fat drops on the front of her new dress and on the hotels cream and gold carpet.

Stupidly she was more concerned about the carpet than to where Giles was taking her. While Giles fumbled for his key card even more blood dripped onto the carpet outside of his door while she tried without success to stem the flow of blood with her hands, but once the door opened he dragged the still stunned Quinn across the room and threw her down onto his bed. It was only when her back came into contact with the mattress her sense of self-preservation returned along with the realisation she was in serious trouble.

Slowly lifting her head she took a quick look around the room then turned her attention back to Giles, while he dragged at his jacket she kicked off her one remaining shoe and leapt from the bed and dashed for the bathroom. With trembling fingers she managed to slip the lock just seconds before he reached the door, her heart beating so fast with fear she though it may stop.

Giles hammered and kicked at the door yelling at her to open it, terrified she crouched on the floor by the bathtub waiting for the moment the door gave way and he would finish his attack on her.

‘Please leave me alone,’ she whispered covering her face with her blood-covered hands, praying that someone would hear the commotion and come to her aide. Her heart was beating at an alarming rate and each time she took a breath it caught and shuddered in her chest, for a moment she wondered if this was how it felt to have a heart attack.

Time passed, it felt like hours, but was in reality only a few minutes, until eventually the hammering stopped relieved but still too afraid to leave the room she stood up intending to wash some of the blood from her hands and bathe her face when the hammering started again.

‘Quinn open the door,’ a muffled male voice called out to her.

Her heart took up the painfully fast beating against her ribs once again, ‘Please leave me alone,’ she called out holding back a sob before cowering back down into the corner once again.

‘Quinn, it me, its Maxwell open…’

Still trembling she dashed to the door and slipped the bolt pulling open the door quickly, shakily she attempted to move past him but he stretched out his hand and caught hold of her arm and stopped her exit.

For a moment he simply looked at her bloodied face then pulled her in to his arms.

‘Th… thank you,’ she murmured grateful for the comfort of his strong arms around her, relieved she let her head drop against his chest.

‘What the hell has he done to you?’ he demand pulling her head from his chest, once again he inspected the damage to her face and cursed loudly, scooping her up into his arms he walked quickly out of the room.

‘I can walk,’ she told him, while only half-heartedly attempting to release herself from his firm grip.

Maxwell made a gruff sound and pulled her tightly back against his chest, ‘Keep still,’ he demanded.

Obeying Quinn buried her face into his neck until she remembered she was still bleeding quite heavily. ‘I’m sorry I’ve got blood all over your shirt and jacket.’

He huffed but did not any further comment, the only thing he did was to pull her head back against his shoulder as he carried her off toward the lifts. He didn’t speak on the journey to their floor until the lift stopped at the floor below theirs and he curtly told the surprised couple about to enter to wait for the next one.

‘I’ll have to put you down while I get the key to open the door,’ he slid her from his arms but the moment he opened the door he lifted her back holding her tightly against his chest again. Once inside the room he carried her into her bathroom and sat her at the vanity unit. Again he held her chin and inspected her face, ‘What the hell were you doing in his room with him anyway?’ he demanded touching her swollen lip with one finger.

‘Ouch!’ she jerked her head back from him breaking the painful contact, ‘I wasn’t with him, leave me alone you’re hurting,’ she pushed his hand away from her face when he touched her eye then her cheek.

‘I’ll ring down to the reception they will send for the doctor to have a look at you…’

‘No, no doctor,’ she cried, ‘I’ll be fine just let me…’

‘Quinn you really should see a doctor,’ he was inspecting her eye while he spoke, ‘you probably should go to hospital.’

She shook her head, ‘No doctor, no hospital, please,’ she pleaded, ‘I don’t want any fuss, pass me a towel I’ll bathe it I’ll be fine,’ she started to stand up only to be pushed back down.

‘Keep still,’ he demanded, ‘good lord the state of you, look at the state of me,’ he added as he looked down at his blood-covered clothes. ‘I’ll do it for you, stay there,’ he instructed her. Quickly standing up to his full height once more he shrugged off his dinner jacket and blood-covered shirt, dropping them over the side of the bath.

Quinn closed her eyes; she’d had enough excitement for one night and the thought of seeing Maxwell Cordell without his shirt on would surely finish her off all together.

‘Stay where you are,’ he repeated.

Her eyes flew open as he snatched up his blood stained clothes and walked out of her bathroom, this time she was treated to a view of his broad naked back. Every bit as interesting as his front she decided as she sighed, closing her eyes again she waited for him to return.

‘Right let’s get you cleaned up,’ he said suddenly and her eyes flew open to find he had dressed once more this time in a casual shirt. ‘This may sting a little,’ he told her as he dipped the edge of the towel into the basin but thankfully this time his touch was surprisingly gentle against her bruised mouth. ‘Okay?’ he asked when she gave a small gasp.

When she nodded and blinked two large tears rolled down her cheeks and to her amazement he dropped the towel and pulled her head against his chest. He didn’t say a word but held her gently, his chin resting on the top of her head while he murmured soft soothing sounds.

‘I’m sorry, I’ve got blood on your clean shirt,’ she sniffed against his shirtfront. Annoyed with herself for giving in to her tears, she wiped the back of her hand across her eyes.

‘That doesn’t matter,’ he held her face gently between his two hands and looked into her eyes, ‘if you feel up to it can you tell me what happened?’

Slowly between sobs she told him that Giles had been waiting for her when she came out of the restroom.

Maxwell narrowed his eyes, ‘did he do anything…’ he paused for a moment, ‘did he touch you…. anywhere?’ he asked recalling their conversation from lunch.

She shook her head, ‘Not really, he … he hit me, well punched,’ she held back a small sob, ‘I did bite him when he tried to kiss me,’ she finished shakily.

He gave a small smile, ‘Good for you, I hope it was a good hard bite,’ picking up the towel he started to bathe her face again. ‘I’ve got some ice in my room once I’ve finished this I’ll make an ice pack it will help stop the bruising.’

Gently he bathed her face and helped her wash some of the blood from her hands but eventually told her, ‘You will be better getting under the shower or in the bath, will you be able to manage?’ When she told him she could he added, ‘Don’t lock your door in case you need any help.’

Thankfully she did not require any further assistance from Maxwell and managed to get all of the blood from her hair and skin. She tried very hard not to dwell on what could have happened if Maxwell had not come to her rescue, and up until that moment she had not given any thought at all as to why he had suddenly appeared.