The Engagement Deal (17 page)

A rumble emerged from Niall’s throat that sounded surprisingly like laughter, but when she glared suspiciously at him his expression was as sober and earnest as she could have wished.

‘Am I supposed to wait for you to make the first move? Well, in case you didn’t notice, I did! Is it my fault I feel impatient? Is it my fault I want to rip your clothes off the instant I see you?’ Holly tilted her head back and closed her eyes. It was too much to hope I only thought that. She opened one eye and risked a quick look. Oh, no, I said it, all right—from the expression on his face, I probably bellowed it!

Niall had brought her hands down, but he still hadn’t released her, even though she’d tried to twist away. A dark corner to hide her terminal embarrassment seemed like an appealing option just now.

His thumbs began to rub the blue-veined inner aspect of her delicate-boned wrists. Tiny, tingling quivers of pleasure went zinging through her body. Holly tried to cling to the shreds of her hostility, but it was swallowed up by the insidious, soothing lethargy his touch induced.

‘Can you actually play dominoes?’

She opened her heavy eyes and languidly lifted her head. ‘I’m a legend at the local, back home.’ It was impossible not to respond to the beguiling smile in his eyes.

‘Perhaps you could teach me a few tricks?’

‘Maybe…’ she conceded with a sniff.

‘The difficulty is, we spend most of our time together in bed… Not the place, I’m sure you agree, for domino lessons. If we spent more time together, it might be easier. If you moved in here, we’d have more time; I might even be able to teach you to cook.’

‘You can cook?’ Holly selected the less compelling and safer of the two questions she ached to ask. Her head was spinning. She was suffering from a heavy dose of unreality.

‘Compared to you, I can cook.’ Holly could only stare warily as he pulled out the stool set by the gleaming baby grand and casually straddled it. He patted the seat in front of him suggestively. ‘You look as if you should sit down.’

She swallowed hard, and shook her head. Her heart was kicking wildly against her ribs. It was hard enough thinking on the opposite side of the room; if she settled in that comfortable spot between his legs, her intellect would go the same way as her morals and common sense.

‘Did you just ask me to move in with you?’ She laughed weakly to show she recognised a joke when she heard one.

Niall folded his arms across his chest and fixed his unblinking enigmatic stare upon her face. ‘I did,’ came the flat response.

‘Oh!’ she faltered hoarsely. ‘This is pretty…pretty…’

‘Unexpected?’

‘I wish you’d stop doing that,’ she rounded on him.

‘Doing what?’

‘Putting words in my mouth.’

‘All right,’ he acceded casually. ‘There are other things I prefer to put in your mouth.’ The gleam in his eyes deepened as she let out an inarticulate, shocked whimper. ‘What were
you
going to say?’

He knew full well she couldn’t say anything at all. Holly gritted her teeth. ‘I was going to say, this is pretty sudden.’

‘That puts a whole new perspective on things,’ he agreed mockingly. ‘What do you think about my idea?’

‘You want the truth?’

‘That depends on your answer.’

She frowned critically at his flippancy—this was no joking matter. ‘You
really
want me to move in with you…?’ She still couldn’t quite believe he meant it. The cool, almost clinical expression on his face didn’t suggest he was inspired by some wild romantic impulse—I should be so lucky, she thought. ‘What would people say?’

‘Do you care?’ he wondered scornfully, dismissing public opinion with a careless flick of his elegant wrist.

Staring at his long, shapely, tapering fingers, she decided it was likely the piano wasn’t just for show. She could see those hands moving over the keyboard—just thinking about how sensitive and skilful they were intensified the aching empty feeling low in her belly. Getting orgasmic about his hands—how hopeless is that? she despaired.

‘I care about what some people think…My mum, my dad…’

‘Your great-aunt and those two cousins twice removed, I know…and your pet rabbit is very sensitive about change, too,’ he cut in impatiently. ‘I asked what
you
thought, Holly. I think that’s the important thing here.’

‘Well, I’m not entirely sure what I think,’ she hedged, ‘until you tell me why you asked me.’

‘I asked you because we’re so sexually compatible it’s off whatever scale these things are measured by…’

‘That’s not a reason to move in with someone,’ she interrupted hoarsely. Did he really think that…? He
sounded
as though he did. Even though she craved a bit of depth in his feelings, his heartfelt fervour was extremely gratifying.

‘It’s one
great
reason,’ he contradicted her firmly. ‘But hold on; I’ve only just started. There’s more. I just find when I’m in the same room as you, or even,’ he added, making a clean breast of his dilemma, ‘when I’m not, I tend to focus on that aspect quite a lot. But we have a lot of things going for us I could focus on.’

He thinks about me like I think about…Holly’s breath seemed to burn as she forced herself to exhale slowly. Her eyes were dramatically dark and burning in her milk-pale face. She felt weak with desire…
And he hasn’t even touched me!

‘I don’t think you’ve thought this through, Niall.’ One of them had to be practical.

‘I’ve thought about very little else, Holly.’ The words emerged almost reluctantly and his blue eyes blazed with similar angry resentment, mingled with something primal and raw.

Holly felt as if she were suffocating; she lowered her eyes abruptly.

‘And if we’re talking practical, Holly, what could be more practical than you moving in here? Would you prefer to end up sharing a house with strangers, or settling for some poky little bedsit that smells of cabbage? I wouldn’t expect you to look after Tom, if that’s what’s bothering you, and you’d like Fiona, the nanny.’

‘It’s nothing to do with Tom,’ she told him with a frown.

‘You work long hours; here, you wouldn’t have to come home and start cooking and cleaning. My housekeeper lives in the flat over the garage; the place runs like clockwork.’

‘Stop!’ she pleaded sharply, holding up her hand. ‘You don’t have to sell the house, Niall—just your reasons for wanting me here.’

‘You work long unsocial hours; so do I.’

‘That’s true,’ she agreed.

‘I want more than a few snatched hours with you.’

‘You do?’

‘You look shocked.’

‘I am. Fall in a heap sort of shocked.’

‘Is it a crime to want more?’ he demanded angrily. ‘I know your independence is important to you, but what we have isn’t enough for me.’ His dark brows drew together to form a dark uncompromising line as he glared at her with an if-you-don’t-like-it-tough, sort of expression.

Holly was drowning in a flood of panic and desire. ‘I suppose…’ Her voice sounded echoey and distant. ‘We’d find out soon enough if boredom was going to set in.’ The whole scenario had a strange dreamlike quality.

‘I’ve already told you I’ll never—’

‘I was thinking more about you boring me, actually…’

Niall shot to his feet. All that was lacking was a victorious war cry; he positively oozed male triumph. ‘That’s settled, then!’

‘Is this the point where we spit on our hands and shake?’ she enquired tremulously. He hadn’t said he loved her, not even once. But then Niall was a pretty straight-talking sort of man; he wouldn’t insult her by faking it. ‘I’ll pass, if you don’t mind.’

The basic need to conquer and master was buried deep in most males, no matter how superficially civilised they were. In some, she reflected, looking at Niall’s tall, commanding figure, it was hardly buried at all! For a vanquished party, she felt pretty damned good. For a man like Niall to suggest they move in together, his feelings obviously ran deeper than he was admitting—maybe not the L word, but maybe deeper than he actually knew. If she was patient and didn’t push it, she thought exuberantly…who knows?

Niall stretched out his hand and Holly automatically did the same. ‘I was thinking of an exchange of bodily fluids,’ he admitted, straight-faced. ‘Just not that one,’ he explained outrageously.

Instead of shaking her hand, he grabbed her wrist and yanked her, sending her on a collision course with his chest. His strong arms cushioned the impact but not the flood of desire that made her cling weakly to him.

His lean fingers twisted in her bright hair and he dragged her head backwards. ‘Open your mouth, Holly,’ he commanded urgently. ‘I want to taste you. Sweet…sweet… Holly…’

Holly touched the tip of her tongue thoughtfully to her upper lip. ‘You make me sound cloying and sickly.’

The wilful little pout made his breathing quicken. ‘Honeyed and luscious,’ he corrected throatily; he was looking with unambiguous hunger at the modest but very inviting swell of her breasts. His stark expression wiped the flirtatious look off her face.

‘I can live with that,’ she conceded huskily.

‘And me?’ One dark slanted brow quirked.

‘Time will tell.’

Niall looked exasperated by her cautious response. Her lips parted under the forceful pressure of his lips. She twisted sinuously as his hands began to move over her body.

‘Well, we’ve got plenty of that, anyhow. Time…’ he reminded her, in response to her glazed uncomprehending stare. ‘Tom’s staying with Tara tonight.’

‘Well, actually, Niall…’

‘You don’t start work until Monday, do you?’

‘It’s not that. It’s just Rowena seemed so low and I…I sort of suggested we all go out to dinner tonight…She’s flying out…What are you doing?’ she gasped, as he swung her up into his arms.

‘I’m not wasting any time is what I’m doing,’ he told her, striding purposefully out of the room. ‘The guided tour of your new home. I think we’ll start with the bedroom.’

‘Excellent idea,’ she approved.

He never did get around to showing her the rest of the house.

H
OLLY
was awoken from a deep sleep by the insistent sound of the door being hammered. She switched on the bedside light and brushed aside the clinging shreds of sleep.

She glanced at the clock. Had Rowena missed her flight? Wistfully, she looked towards the empty pillow beside her. It shouldn’t have been empty, but Niall had left when they were halfway through their meal in response to an SOS from Tara.

Niall hadn’t seem overly concerned by the news Tom was being violently sick—or, for that matter, particularly surprised. He explained that Tara was a soft touch where their son was concerned and, being a small boy, Tom took advantage and pigged out big time on junk food if he got the opportunity.

Holly hadn’t worried much about his departure until Rowena had remarked how much she would hate to have a man who dropped everything at the behest of his ex-wife. She had managed to imply that she wouldn’t be content with playing second fiddle. Holly had
tried
not to brood over Rowena’s comments. Rowena was pretty poisonous where Tara was concerned—a prime example of her self-confessed territorial instincts at work? She found herself wondering how her own relationship with Niall would stand up to the pressure if Rowena started getting territorial.

Perhaps, Holly speculated, hurriedly drawing on a light summer wrap, Tom had staged a miraculous recovery. Her heart began to race in eager anticipation.

She opened the door and her visitor almost fell over the door step.

‘Where is she?’ The visitor demanded belligerently. He staggered backwards and leant heavily against the wall to steady himself while he worked on the awkward problem of moving forwards once more.

‘Quinn…?’ Holly trotted after him as he stalked unsteadily into the open plan living area.

‘I know she’s back…She’s been seen. Don’t bother trying to deny it.’

The Quinn Tyler she knew was a tall, strikingly confident individual with a penchant for exquisitely cut expensive suits, girls with long legs and, if the rumours were true, fast motorbikes. She was sure he would look stunning in his biker leathers—tonight, he didn’t look stunning, he looked ravaged.

The stubble on his square jaw was too abundant to be termed designer anything and his green eyes were red-rimmed and bloodshot. His suit was crumpled past redemption and he reeked of booze. If she hadn’t known him, she might have crossed to the opposite side of the street if she’d seen him coming; there was a palpable air of barely repressed violence about him.

The startling transformation from sleekly urbane professional to drunken wreck was remarkable enough to make Holly stare and continue to stare as he started looking behind chairs, even inside cupboards, in his search for Rowena. It was interesting to note that even inebriated he was meticulously methodical, if not altogether practical in his approach.

‘I know you’re here,’ he slurred at regular intervals.

‘Quinn, I think you should sit down…’ She stopped. Maybe not; if he sat down, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to get him up again. ‘You can’t go—’ she began in alarm as he lurched towards the bedroom. Quinn, it seemed, wasn’t in a listening mood.

She winced as the door hit the bedroom wall with a massive thud that reverberated through the entire flat. What Rowena would say about a great hole in her plaster— Quinn was a big man—God alone knew, she fretted, following him.

‘Oh, God, where is she?’ The big bad man had turned abruptly into the little boy.

Holly was too horrified to be beguiled by the transformation. He was lying full-length on the bed she’d just vacated.

‘I know she’s here somewhere. I can smell her,’ he insisted, lifting a pillow to his face and inhaling deeply. ‘It’s still warm. The bed’s still warm…Holly.’

‘She’s flown back to New York, Quinn,’ Holly told him gently. Her soft heart oozed compassion as she knelt on the edge of the bed and looked down at the pitiful figure he made.

‘I don’t believe you.’

‘I wouldn’t lie to you, Quinn.’

‘No, you’re a nice girl, Holly,’ he slurred sentimentally. ‘Why didn’t I fall for a nice girl like you? A reasonable girl. I’m not unreasonable, am I?’ He grabbed her hand and appealed to her.

‘You’re drunk, Quinn.’

‘Plastered,’ he agreed gravely. ‘Off my head, drunk as skink…skunk. What should I do, Holly? P-pretty name, Holly. I like it.’

‘Thank you.’ She wondered whether he’d remember any of this tomorrow, and hoped for both of their sakes he didn’t. ‘Go home and sleep it off.’ She patted his shoulder consolingly.

He blinked owlishly up at the ceiling. ‘Excellent idea. The thing is, I don’t actually think I can move,’ he grimaced apologetically and looked down at his uncooperative limbs.

Holly sighed heavily. Short of acquiring heavy lifting gear, what alternative did she have? ‘You’d better stay here.’

‘Make some man a great wife,’ Quinn murmured, closing his eyes. ‘Extremely grateful,’ he added with exquisite politeness. About twenty seconds elapsed before he started snoring.

Out for the count! Holly stared at his unconscious figure with amused irritation.
Men!
Tutting quietly to herself, she unlaced and pulled off his shoes, removed his tie and loosened his shirt. With a sigh, she removed a pillow from the other side of the bed for herself and used the others to prop the big man up on his side in the recovery position. If he did throw up, he could forget about getting together with Rowena; her sister was extremely squeamish, not to mention intolerant, about such things. She unfolded the foldaway bed she’d used while Rowena was here and made up a bed.

Holly was folding the put-you-up away the next morning when Quinn finally surfaced. Amazingly—she’d deliberately let out all the stops when rendering her off-key version of a popular tune—he’d managed to sleep solidly through her noisy occupation of the shower room. He sat up, looked at her with a comically startled expression, and then, clutching his head, fell back down, groaning.

‘Oh, God!’ he groaned. ‘I’m dying.’

‘I shouldn’t think so.’

‘Holly?’
Sitting up, cautiously this time, Quinn looked at her through eyes slitted against the light in the room. She saw in his eyes the moment when he remembered. ‘Holly!’ he groaned.

‘You remember last night?’

‘Most of it,’ he agreed warily. ‘I didn’t do anything—make a nuisance of myself—did I?’ He rubbed his head gingerly, making his brown hair stand spikily on end.

‘Discretion is my middle name,’ she assured him soothingly. ‘Though it might be an idea if you got someone to do something about the chunk of plaster you knocked out of the wall. Rowena’s rather particular about that sort of thing.’

At the mention of her sister, Quinn’s expression got all mean and broody. What, Holly couldn’t help but wonder, would have happened if Rowena had been here last night?

‘I’ll do that. I’m sorry I stole your bed last night.’ He was looking with some concern at her light robe.

Holly’s lips quivered. ‘Yes, you did,’ she reassured him. ‘You’re not my type, Quinn.’

The big man looked sheepish but, encouraged by the twinkle in her eyes, eventually grinned. ‘Yes, well…’ He grimaced. ‘God, but my mouth tastes disgusting.’

‘Shower and toothpaste are at your disposal.’

‘You’re an angel,’ he breathed gratefully. ‘You wouldn’t have such a thing as an aspirin, would you…?’

‘Better make it paracetemol, considering the condition of your poor abused stomach-lining. I’ll put on the coffee.’

‘Thanks, Holly,’ he said quietly as she turned to leave.

‘For the coffee?’

‘That and not asking questions.’

The coffee was brewing nicely when she heard the post clunk on the carpet, followed by a polite tap on the door.

‘Niall!’ She gaped at the tall figure who handed her a small parcel. ‘What are you doing here?’

Niall planted his hands firmly about her waist, his lips firmly on her mouth and walked into the flat, kicking the door shut behind him. He smelt sexily wholesome, all squeaky freshly washed hair and warm male. Holly sighed with pleasure and kissed him back with enthusiasm.

‘We need to talk.’

‘Fine,’ she agreed, not understanding the air of tension he was exuding. ‘Is Tom better?’ she murmured, planting a couple of small kisses against his lean cheek. She trailed a finger down his jawline as he placed her back on her feet.

‘Right as rain.’ He turned his head and kissed the tip of her finger. His hot summer sky eyes moved greedily over her face and flickered with interest towards the loose neck of her wrap. Holly felt her stomach muscles spasm.

‘What did you want to talk about?’

His eyes shifted from hers evasively. ‘I wanted to wish you luck.’ Spineless coward, he told himself scornfully.

‘Is that all?’

‘First day in your new job. Have you forgotten, or are you just super-cool and confident?’

‘I wish.’ Why did she get the impression he was avoiding saying something?

‘Mmm, that smells good.’ His elegant nose twitched appreciatively. ‘Are you nervous?’ His expression became concerned.

Nervous…You could say that. Why hadn’t it occurred to her until this second how this perfectly innocent situation might be misinterpreted? She couldn’t help her glance flickering nervously towards the bedroom door.

‘A bit,’ she agreed, watching Niall’s narrowed gaze automatically following the direction of her eyes. ‘The thing is, I didn’t get much sleep last night.’ Best to get the explanations out of the way now.

‘Lead me to the coffee.’ Quinn, bare-chested and rubbing his wet hair on a towel, walked into the room. ‘Just what the doctor ordered…’ He saw Niall and stopped, looking self-conscious. ‘Niall, this is a surprise.’ From his tone, it was pretty obvious it wasn’t a pleasant one.

‘For you and me both, mate, friend, buddy, old pal…’ Niall’s icy contemptuous drawl made Holly wince and Quinn frown in genuine bewilderment. ‘Holly’s just been telling me she didn’t get much sleep last night.’

‘I’m afraid,’ Quinn said apologetically, ‘that’s my fault.’

Holly groaned. How, she wondered, had Quinn failed to see the very obvious danger signs? Niall was simply oozing suspicion and antagonism.

‘Niall, this isn’t—’ She made a desperate, last-ditch attempt to nip this farcical situation in the bud.

‘What it looks like?’ Niall gave an ugly laugh, took one step forwards and launched a vicious jab that landed on the jaw of the other man who, taken off guard and still feeling distinctly fragile, staggered backwards until he hit the wall and then gracefully slid down it.

Holly flew forward to catch an odd, squiggly shaped piece of pottery that Rowena had proudly explained was by one of the most collectable young potters in the country; she was too late. She moaned as she watched the investment shatter on the floor.

She stamped her small foot and glared at Niall. ‘Now look what you’ve done!’ she wailed furiously.

‘Pity you didn’t show the same respect for the rest of Rowena’s property.’ With a contemptuous curl of his lips Niall jerked his head sharply in Quinn’s direction. ‘You really have come out of her shadow with a vengeance, haven’t you?’ he jeered.

Holly felt her temper flare as she registered the sordid insinuation that she’d sleep with her sister’s man as part of some sick game of one-upmanship. Was that what he thought of her? she wondered sickly.

Just when she thought he’d insulted her as much as he could, he came up with an even more unsavoury interpretation.

‘Or had this been a long-term arrangement? If I’d known you wanted a relationship that doesn’t extend beyond the bedroom, it would have made life a lot easier.’

‘I’ve no desire to make your life easy!’ she yelled back.

‘Tell me something I didn’t know already. You’ve done nothing but turn my life upside down since the moment you insinuated yourself—’

‘Insinuated!’ She gaped at him with raw incredulity—was he
serious
? ‘I didn’t do any insinuating. It was against my better judgement that I helped you…and,’ she spat venomously, ‘I wish I hadn’t.’

‘Always was a grotesque piece of tat,’ Quinn mumbled, looking in a dazed fashion at the broken shard of pottery. He reached up to gingerly feel his rapidly swelling lip.

The unexpected sound of Quinn’s voice acted like a cattle-prod on Niall, who had in the heat of battle forgotten his adversary; he bristled, the aura of violence about him deepening perceptively.

‘Who the hell cares?’ he flared, his eyes blazing contempt. ‘Get up, Tyler!’ His searing glare switched back to Holly. ‘And don’t expect me to buy any stories about last night being the first time.’

‘It wasn’t.’ She threw him a haughty pitying glance. Not the first, second or last, you
stupid
man, she thought furiously.

Niall’s fists tightened until each clenched knuckle individually cracked. His eyes had all the warmth of stones as he watched Holly worriedly bend over Quinn—his
friend
Quinn. Not only had she not bothered defending herself, she was actually flaunting the truth under his nose. The buzzing in his brain made it hard to think straight. All that stuff about Quinn and Rowena must have been a blind and, like a prize sucker, he’d fallen for it!

‘Don’t get up, Quinn,’ Holly advised urgently. ‘He’ll only knock you down again.’

‘Don’t bet on it,’ Quinn responded pugnaciously. ‘He took me off guard.’

‘There’s one way to find out,’ Niall goaded belligerently. ‘Do you call her or does she call you?’ he ground out from between clenched teeth. ‘What do you call it? Being her mentor?’

‘If I can’t last the night without a man, you mean?’ Holly hooted derisively. Men and their macho posturing, she thought, giving a delicate shudder of loathing. A life of celibacy looked all of a sudden very attractive!

‘
Please
don’t bleed on Rowena’s carpet,’ she beseeched as Quinn made an abortive attempt to rise. ‘And for heavens’s sake, Niall, stop glowering like that!’ she rounded on him. ‘You’re making a complete fool of yourself,’ she warned him bitterly.