Her Baby Secret

‘The idea of being part of a couple.’

‘And if I don’t?’

‘You don’t have any choice, angel.’

‘How do you figure that one?’

‘You need me.’

Rowena gasped. His arrogance was simply unbelievable! ‘Have you always been delusional?’

His expression abruptly softened as he assimilated the torment in her wide-spaced eyes. ‘You need me, about as much as I need you. See, I can do it, and I’ve had as little practice at it as you have. It hardly hurts at all to admit it. I’m going to teach you to say it,’ he promised.

Eyes wide with horror and lips clamped defiantly shut, she shook her head vigorously from side to side.

‘We’ll see, shall we?’

There was no challenge in his statement, just total, complete conviction—whether this conviction stemmed from a misplaced notion that she was female and therefore weak and malleable, or a belief in his own ability to bend anything or anyone to his will, Rowena didn’t know. She did know a challenge would have been much easier to deal with.

Rowena wanted to put him right, but she felt strangely disinclined to do anything, move, speak, breathe even—perhaps it had something to do with the almost narcotic quality of the combination of his level, deep voice and the sexily slumbrous gleam in his eyes.

‘I did knock, Rowena…’ Her PA’s tentative voice made Rowena start.

‘Yes, Bernice?’ she responded, putting as much clear space rapidly between herself and Quinn as was possible. Her mind wasn’t functioning with its usual clarity, but at least she wasn’t staring up at him like a hypnotised rabbit screaming ‘eat me’ any longer.

This was one of the reasons she hadn’t wanted to see him. He walked in a room and her wits flew out the nearest window, which made no sense! Rowena had experienced sexual attraction before and stayed firmly in charge of her feelings at every level—the person involved only knew about it if she wanted him to. With Quinn she didn’t have that luxury, she was clumsy, inarticulate and painfully needy.

‘There’s a call from your sister and she says it’s urgent…’

Rowena frowned. Holly had taken her new fiancé up to Scotland to show him off to their elderly grandparents who lived in a remote part of the country called Wester Ross.

‘Fine, I’ll take it, Bernice,’ Rowena replied to her normally discreet assistant who was shooting surreptitious looks in Quinn’s direction.

The young woman withdrew, blushing, when Quinn smiled at her.

‘Holly, it’s me…do you mind? This is private!’ she hissed, covering the mouthpiece and glaring across at Quinn.

‘Say hello to Holly for me,’ he requested, unperturbed by her hostility as he strolled to the far end of the room and began to read the titles on the spines of the files that filled the shelves there.

‘What? Yes, it is Quinn. No…yes, he is here. It doesn’t matter, I’ll explain later. What’s wro—?’ Rowena grew silent as her sister broke into impetuous speech the other end of the line.

Rowena had her back turned to him, but Quinn could almost feel her distress as the slim, supple line of her back grew tense. Her next faltering exclamation confirmed his suspicions—Holly didn’t have good news.

‘Oh, God, no!’ Rowena raised her hand to her mouth, compressing the quivering line of her lips—not Gran!

The image of Elspeth Frazer floated before her eyes. Five feet nothing with rosy cheeks, startling blue eyes and snow-white hair, she could have come straight from the glossy illustrations in a book of fairy tales. The illusion of a cosy grandmother was shattered the instant Elspeth opened her mouth. The octogenarian had never suffered fools gladly and, not only did she have a bawdy sense of humour, she possessed a will of iron.

Elspeth had been a consultant paediatrician in the early fifties, when women consultants had been very few and far between. Rowena had left Holly to follow in Gran’s footsteps and become a doctor, but nonetheless Elspeth Frazer had been her own inspiration, the person she thought of when the going got tough. Rowena could never understand how a woman like her grandmother, who had fought so hard to get where she wanted, had turned her back on everything and buried herself in general practice in the back of beyond. She’d eventually asked.

‘Why, I saw your grandfather, my dear, and I loved him.’

Perplexed, a much younger Rowena had asked, ‘Well couldn’t he have come to live in the City?’

‘He could, but he’d have been unhappy.’

‘Well, I’d never do that for a man!’

‘We’ll see…’

Rowena heard the familiar soft accent in her head and her eyes filled with tears. She blinked back the moisture and forced herself to ask the thing she didn’t want to.

‘Is she…? Do they think…? Don’t cry, Holly, and don’t get too technical,’ she pleaded as her doctor sister began to go into details about the suspected stroke that their grandmother had suffered that morning.

She wasn’t aware that Quinn was beside her until she felt the warm imprint of his hand on her shoulder. No matter what the state of their personal relationship, she wasn’t about to reject his support. Rowena was proud, but not stupid—Quinn was the sort of man whom people automatically turned to in a crisis.

She made no objection as he slid a chair under her shaky legs and urged her gently down into it.

She held the receiver a little way from her ear. ‘She’s crying again.’ She gulped, raising tear-filled eyes to his face. ‘Holly never cries,’ she added, her own lower lip quivering madly.

‘Let me have it.’

Rowena relinquished the phone without a second thought. For once she didn’t resent Quinn’s air of calm authority.

‘Hello, Holly, sweetheart, it’s Quinn,’ she heard him say warmly to her sister. ‘Yes, I know, but…is Niall there? Good, put him on. Hi, Niall, it’s Quinn.’

Rowena, her head in her hands, could hear the male rumble as Holly’s fiancé responded at length. Quinn didn’t interrupt him. ‘Yes, I get the picture. It’ll be quicker if we fly up. Can you organise some transport from Inverness? Right, I’ll ring when I’ve got more details.’

CHAPTER THREE

ROWENA woke up, and for several horrid moments experienced total amnesia. It didn’t last long, but realising where she was, with whom and, worst of all, why was no less horrid than the original empty void.

She stretched sleepily in the confined space. There was a dull ache behind her eyes and her stiff limbs felt as though she hadn’t moved in an age. A glance at her watch revealed this wasn’t far off the truth; they couldn’t be far off Inverness.

‘You’re awake.’

The soft drawl somewhere east of her right ear was extremely welcome, not that she had any intention of allowing her travelling companion to see just how welcome. ‘Very obviously.’ Rowena raised a hand to cover her yawn as she adjusted her seat from its reclining position. Someone, she noticed, had placed a blanket over her while she’d slept. Had it been Quinn? The thought made her throat feel achey and tight. God, this has to stop, she rebuked herself sharply. Carry on broadcasting emotional and vulnerable signals like these and they’ll pick them up in the Shetlands, girl!

‘How are you feeling?’ With raised brows Quinn took in her aggressive frown. ‘Other than grouchy.’

‘I’m not grouchy.’

Was she particularly shallow? Or was it normal to fret stupidly about trivial matters like the fact your hair was sticking up and your eyeshadow had probably run when you were on a mission that should, and did, take precedence over everything else? How was there room in her head, given her anxiety levels over Gran, to take on board the fact that Quinn looked overpoweringly virile and as vital and energetic as she felt jaded and weary?

‘And I feel perfectly fine.’ It occurred to her that she ought to be displaying more gratitude than she was, considering what he had done for her. ‘Thank you,’ she added awkwardly.

There was no polite way of putting it—she had fallen apart! It was still kind of shocking to accept that this had happened—maybe if Quinn hadn’t been there she would have pulled herself together and done what needed to be done…. Perhaps it was the security of having someone she trusted to take care of her and the situation that had enabled her to temporarily relinquish her iron control.

Her blue eyes fluttered wide with amazement; she did trust Quinn—utterly! When, she wondered, had that happened? Aware of his questioning regard, she lowered her eyes abruptly and began to fold the discarded blanket, her slim fingers trembling slightly as she fussed, lining the corners up with meticulous precision.