Millionaire's Christmas Miracle (16 page)

Miracles on miracles.

“So,” Quint said. “Are you ready?”

She looked around the room. “For what, a hot dog?”

His hold on her tightened slightly. “No, for my present for you.” His voice had an edge of roughness to it, and she turned in his hold, and didn’t think she’d ever get used to the way she felt just looking at him, that instant need to be closer, never to let go.

There was no suit tonight, just a collarless black silk shirt and snug dark slacks, setting off his graying hair and tanned skin. She felt her heart skip slightly. “Present?” she breathed, feeling her face heat just at the look in his narrowed hazel eyes. “Mister, this isn’t exactly the ranch, you know. There are tons of people all over the place, and Travis is due for another crying spell any minute now and we cannot go into the Quiet Room and—”

He touched her lips with his forefinger, hushing her. “Jenn’s agreed to watch out for Travis and Taylor
for an hour and she’s got plenty of help from Mom and Dad. So, we have one hour, okay?”

“Are we going to bake a gingerbread family?” she asked, smiling at him, the expression getting just a bit unsteady when she felt him pull her even closer. His heart beat against hers, and she had the certain knowledge that she was one with him, completely joined, forever.

“Lady, we aren’t going to burn this place down,” he said on a rough chuckle that seemed to rumble against her where they touched.

Then he took her hand and led her away from the party, past her office, and out the back door to the parking garage, across to the executive elevator where he pushed a card in the slot. The doors opened and he stepped in, taking her with him, then hit the button to go up to the twentieth level.

Amy held his hand, staring at the two of them in the muted reflection in the doors, neither one talking. The car stopped and they got out, going through Zane’s darkened office and the reception area. Quint led the way down the hall past the secretary’s desk and back to his private office.

She stepped into his office ahead of him. It was a sprawling space dominated by the huge desk by the windows, a wall of bookcases and filing cabinets and a conversation area to the left with a long couch and two chairs in a semicircle. The only light came from the lamp on his desk. She turned to Quint as he clicked the lock on the door, then came across to her. “Oh, that’s your present,” she murmured, putting her arms out to reach for him.

He stepped into her embrace, and just held her for a long moment, then moved back slightly. “Hold that thought.” He eased her back against the desk and reached around her. “Here’s your present,” he said, holding out a folded piece of paper.

She looked at him, then took the paper and opened it. She read the single-page fax, then looked at Quint. “Is this true?” she asked.

“Les just faxed it. It’s true. He found the father in Arizona and the guy’s more than happy to sign away his parental rights.” Amy couldn’t stop the tears, and Quint touched her cheek. “I know, you can’t conceive of someone walking away from a baby like that, but we have him. Travis is fine. We’re fine.” He took the paper from her hands, then was holding her again. “Hell, lady, we’re better than fine, as long as you keep your end of this deal.”

“Deal? What deal?”

“To love me for the rest of your life,” he said, his voice vaguely unsteady.

“Oh, Quint,” she said, tears there again. She swiped at her eyes, and sniffed. “No problem,” she whispered, and she circled his neck with her arms. As she reached up, he lifted her off her feet until she was at eye level. “Is the door locked?” she asked.

“Absolutely.”

“And we have an hour?”

“Fifty-five minutes, or thereabout.”

“Let’s not waste any of it,” she breathed and found his lips with hers. That brush of his mustache, his heat, her completeness.

He carried her over to the couch, then lowered her
to stand in front of him. “I know Jenn was thinking of you when she got you this dress, but she wasn’t thinking of me.” He turned her around. Buttons ran down the back of it. “A thousand buttons,” he said, starting to undo them.

She helped, slipping the top down, then finally wiggling out of it, and while he stripped, she took off the rest of her clothes. They faced each other for only a moment before coming together. They tumbled into the softness of the couch cushions, and Quint braced over her, his body along hers and his desire instantly there. “Oh, lady,” he whispered, touching her, moving against her, and she marveled at the instant passion that exploded between them. White-hot, fire, consuming, and all-encompassing.

She lifted her hips to him, willing him to take her, and slowly, he entered her. There was no hesitation, just a total surrender, that moment when she felt part of him, when their souls met. And she went with him, higher and higher, gladly letting go of everything except him, and the culmination was a splendor that defined all rules and reality. One. Together. That melting of two spirits into one. It excited and completed her, and she tumbled with him back to earth.

Quint rolled to one side, holding her close, and pressed a kiss to the top of her head, then moved from her, standing by the couch. She looked up at him, marveling at the sight of him. “What are you doing?” She glanced past him at the wall clock. “We’ve got more time.” She grinned and held her hand out to him. “Lots more time.”

He crossed naked to his desk, opened a drawer,
then came back to hand her a small jewelry box. “Just a little something extra.”

She sat up, took the velvet box and looked up at her husband. “This is too much. You got Travis’s adoption on track, and…” She could feel the heat in her face, blushing, even though he was hers now. “…everything.”

He crouched by her. “Just look.”

She flipped up the lid and found a brooch, a gold rat with diamond eyes. She laughed, touching the smooth gold body. “Oh, goodness, Charlie never looked so good.”

“You like it?”

“Oh, yes. And I love you,” she said, reaching up and pulling him back down to the couch with her. “You’re a lifetime project, but I’m up for the job.”

“So am I,” he chuckled and went back to her.

W
ITH TWO MINUTES
to spare, they got to the back door of the center. Amy pushed back the barrier, and instead of the noise of partying, there were shrieks, kids squealing, then one voice raised above the others, “It’s a rat. Get him!”

Quint reached for her hand, tugged the door shut, closing out the noise and he caught her in his arms. “Let them catch Charlie.”

“Well, that should take a miracle,” she said, putting her arms around his neck.

“Well, I believe in miracles.”

“That makes two of us,” Amy whispered and kissed her husband again.

ISBN: 978-1-4603-6813-8

MILLIONAIRE’S CHRISTMAS MIRACLE

Copyright © 2001 by Mary Anne Wilson.

All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.

All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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