Page 14 of Temptation

“Well, I am, and I did. So, turn down your porn and shut the door, please.” Quinn paused, and Tenn had to admire her poise at that moment. He was torn between wanting to run down the hall and confront them both and wanting to see how this played out.

“Right. Yeah, sorry about that. Are you guys sticking around or...” Joel trailed off and swallowed nervously, which gave Tenn immense satisfaction and allowed him to stick to Quinn’s plan.

“We'll be working in my office on some stuff.” Quinn started moving toward the door again, and Tenn realized she was trying to see how far she could push him.

“What are you doing?” Joel looked panicked instead of nervous now and stepped forward to block her from entering the bedroom.

“I need my charger.” She went to move around him, and he put out an arm to stop her.

“I'll grab it; you probably don’t want to see the state of things in there.” He disappeared inside, and Quinn leaned on the wall as he brought it back. “You should have warned me you were coming home.”

“I didn't think you'd be here.” She shrugged and turned to leave. “And Joel? Switch to amateur or homemade porn. That poor woman was working far too hard to fake it.”

“Right.” Joel immediately looked pissed off, and Tenn had to duck into the office to hide his laughter.

“Oh, and I guess congratulations are in order, too.” Tenn jammed his fist in his mouth to stop making noise so he could listen.

“Congratulations?”

“Yeah, you finally convinced Anita to buy a Porsche. Little surprised she went with such a bright pink, but hey, good job, Honey.”

“Thanks.” Tenn could hear Joel's confusion and panic and grinned. Quinn was quickly becoming his dream woman.

“I'll have to remember to ask her about it when I see her at the HOA meeting Wednesday night.” Tenn desperately wanted to see Joel's face and poked his head out. The blood had drained, leaving him pale, clammy-looking, and like he was about to pass out.

“I need to lie down.” He whispered.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Tenn said calmly. “But where's your bathroom?”

“Oh, right there.” Quinn smiled at him and pointed at the door, slightly behind her on the right, then looked back at her husband. “Still not feeling well? That's too bad. Don't worry; we won't bother you.” She turned and went back into the office as Tenn closed the bathroom door.

When he came out, he noticed the bedroom door was shut and smirked. They had effectively trapped them in the bedroom. He could only imagine the level of panic going on in there. He walked back to the office with a smug grin on his face.

Quinn's office was large, with lots of built-in shelving units full of art supplies. A large easel was in one corner with a half-completed painting of what looked like a bear and a cub. A long, narrow desk was against the wall with a large square window, her computer on one end and the other covered in paper and pens. The floor was a taupe grey linoleum for easy cleanup of paint spills, and the walls were the same dark teal as her kitchen cabinets. Everything else was in different shades of grey and teal.

Quinn was sitting in front of her computer, and she gestured for him to sit in a chair next to a pile of books. When she looked up, he saw she was in tears, and he immediately got up, shut the door with a tiny click, and went over to hug her, letting her cry softly into his shoulder. “Are you okay?” He asked after she stopped but stayed in his arms, resting her head on his shoulder.

“My house, in my bed.” She whispered. “Just hit me that this is happening.”

“I'm sorry, Flacara.” He paused as the Romanian word for flame came out. He hadn't spoken Romanian since his grandparents died six years ago. Where had that come from?

Quinn sniffed. “That's pretty. What does it mean?”

“Flame.” Tenn gently eased back and picked up a lock of her hair. “When you got out of the car at the rose garden, I thought your hair looked like liquid flames.” He let it slide through his fingers. “Do you always change your hair when going through something?”

“Yeah. And I get tattoos too.” She shrugged her cardigan off her shoulder so he could see. Tenn grinned as he looked over her new tattoo. “I have ten now.”

“It's very well done. Who's your artist?”

“Bishop Ramone. Rilla's husband.” Quinn smiled faintly and seemed happy for the distraction from their spouses. “Do you have any?”

“I have a few.” Tenn grinned as he pushed up his sleeves to reveal Van Gogh's Starry Night on his right forearm and Da Vinci's Vitruvian Man on his left. “There's more, but these are the easiest to show.” He sat back in the chair. “The faking comment was pure gold. I almost lost it.”

Quinn laughed softly as she got up and opened the door. “I don't want to give them an opportunity to escape,” she explained as she came back, then her expression became excited. “We might even be able to hear them.”

“How?” Tenn raised his eyebrow, he desperately wanted to know what was currently happening in the bedroom.

Quinn sat at her desk again and woke up the computer, pulling up a security program. “There's a camera that picks up sound on the end of the house, above the bedroom window, and the bed is under it. We both like having the window open when we sleep.” She brought up the camera for the side of the house and turned up the volume. Soft sobbing reached them, and they grinned in delight at one another.

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