Page 18 of A Convenient Ring to Claim Her

Micah had a flash of premonition, but reflexively dismissed it. He wasn’t the type to make up things to worry about or latch onto them when he did. Besides, he would know if something had ever happened to Quinn.

Thatwas a ridiculous thought. He wasn’t psychic and was highly skeptical of anyone who claimed to be.

But his gut was filling with cement. He hadn’t heard a car when Quinn left. She must have been on foot or catching a rideshare at the top of the drive? Maybe a bus. He’d never noticed where the closest bus stop was to his home. He had no way of knowing which direction she’d taken as she left, either, but he did know she had been fueled with anger.

Walking fast, she could have reached the intersection up ahead andwhy the hellwas he putting himself through this ridiculous exercise?

She was fine. Quinn was always fine. She said so anytime he asked.

“There goes the ambulance. We’ll start moving now.” His driver crawled forward.

Micah’s heart began to crash in his chest for absolutely no logical reason at all.

As they came toward the corner, a policeman seemed to be taking a statement from a woman. The woman offered the policeman something red and white.

“Stop!” Micah shouted.

He was briefly thrown forward as his driver stood on the brake. Micah leaped from the car before his chauffeur could find a place to pull over.

“Let me see that,” Micah barked as he charged up to the cop and the woman.

“Signore!” The policeman tensed as though confronting a madman while the woman fearfully offered the phone.

It was exactly what Micah had feared. The screen was smashed to a broken web. The back of the case wore tire tracks across theI Heart PEIlettering.

Micah wanted to throw up. His vision tunneled and he thought his knees might unhinge.

“Do you know who it belongs to, signore?” the policeman asked from a thousand miles away.

“I do.”

CHAPTER FIVE

QUINNWASWAITINGfor the painkiller to kick in, aware that even when it did, it wouldn’t fully relieve her agony because not all of it was physical. None of it was particularly new, either, which made it extra excruciating.

Her shoulder was dislocated again. The misalignment in her joint hurt so much she could hardly breathe, but at least she was no longer jostling through the narrow streets of Bellagio in the back of an ambulance. She was in a hospital bed in the emergency room, trying to comprehend the Italian spoken beyond the curtain...benefici medicimust be something to do with her medical benefits.

She’d given a young woman her wallet. They must have found the card, but it was a low-premium travel plan for students. She doubted it offered much coverage.

The headache of dealing with bureaucracy was already upon her, coupling up with the sting of a shallow pocketbook that had dogged her all her life.

Atop that was the depression of having lost Eden, the one person she might have called in a case like this, but now didn’t feel right. Plus, even though she’d thrown a metric ton of superiority at Micah because he wasn’t speaking to his sister, Quinn had been dodging meaningful conversations with Eden herself, pretending she was hideously busy so Eden wouldn’t guess she was steeped in possessiveness and loss simply because Eden was in love and married and living her best life.

Then there was Micah.

She might have thrown her arm over her eyes in chagrin, but the second she so much as thought about it, a knifing sensation cut across her chest. Hot tears pressed behind her eyes and her throat closed over a cry of pain.

Damn him for cutting her loose the minute she had acknowledged they were together. Damn him, damn him, damn him.

“Signorina Harper?” The curtain around her fluttered. The nurse gave her a compassionate smile. “You have a visitor.”

Ugh. His blinding good looks seared into the backs of her eyeballs. He’d put on a white jacket so he was even more crisp and formal and secret-agent sexy than ever.

She closed her eyes against him, the only defense she had right now.No. Justno.

“You were hit by abicycle?” His tone of outrage was thick with blame, as if she was at fault.

“Apparently, I really am skinny as a lamppost. He didn’t see me until I stepped out from behind it.”

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