Page 37 of A Convenient Ring to Claim Her

“Mmm.” His mouth pulled to one side in dark humor. It was such a nice mouth. Vaguely wicked in the way the corners were so sharp while his bottom lip was full and carnal.

She licked her own lips, inviting...

“We’re not supposed to do that, either,” he chided softly.

His attention was on her mouth, though, she saw when she glanced into his black-coffee irises.

“It’s just a kiss.” She twisted a little more.

He met her halfway.

And yes, this was what they did so they didn’t have to suffer the agony of existence, but the agony was always right here, buzzing in her lips, filling her with yearning. It was in the groan that rumbled deep in his chest as he slanted his head and captured her lips more fully.

It was in her shoulder, when she instinctually started to twist and reach for him. Lightning shot through her left side. She jolted and sat straight, breath zinging in her lungs.

“Okay?” His hand splayed on her waist, ready to catch her if she tipped.

“No more spin the bottle,” she said in a strained voice. “I think it’s time for popcorn and a movie.”

A pause of surprise, then, “What do you want to watch?”

“Something where teenagers beat the system by dancing.”

“I’ll assume that’s a dare,” he drawled. “I’ll go along because I’m a good sport. Also, you’re due for another painkiller so I assume you’ll fall asleep ten minutes in.”

It was twenty, but he watched to the end because she was leaned against him and he didn’t want to wake her.

CHAPTER NINE

THENEXTFEWdays passed in a blur, probably because Quinn napped more often than a newborn.

When she wasn’t sleeping, she was arguing with Micah—and losing.

“Set up this phone for yourself,” Micah said, handing her the latest model, still in its box. She’d started shopping for a refurbished one, but he said, “You and Eden text too much for me to be the middleman.”

Her mistake was in acquiescing to that, not wanting to be a nuisance. He seemed to take that as a green light because more goods quickly arrived.

“Your laptop is too old for the latest dictation software,” he said when a young man turned up with a new one and wanted to configure it for her. There was also a headset and an adorable little dictation recorder that Quinn secretly fell in love with, especially after the tech showed her how easy it was to speak her notes into it, then set it to auto-type into a document while she walked away.

She would have stopped there, but Micah ordered clothes.

“You need things that are easy to manage,” he said, as if she was the unreasonable one when he had hired a stylist who brought a selection of original pieces fromMilan. “You’re in no shape to sift through boutiques, trying things on. When you’re feeling better you can buy your own things. Let Antoinette outfit you for now.”

Quinn did tire very quickly, and her best clothes had been donated to the hospital incinerator. Aside from pajamas, she had a pair of holey jeans that she couldn’t fasten and a T-shirt that claimed feminism was her second favorite F-word. The new clotheswereeasy and comfortable, so she gave in.

Then the private nurse arrived.

“Are you kidding me? I don’t need a private nurse,” she marched into his den to inform him, leaving the middle-aged woman blinking in confusion behind her. “Sorry,” she added over her shoulder. The woman seemed perfectly nice and must think Quinn was extremely ungrateful. “He didn’t tell me he had hired you,” she explained, then turned back to Micah. “Whydid you ask her to come?”

“You said you were tired of the sponge baths. I would be happy to help you bathe, if that’s what you prefer.” His steady look promised to soap all nooks and crannies very thoroughly.

She didn’t bother calling his bluff because she knew it wasn’t one. Instead, she blushed to the ends of her hair and thanked the woman for her patience when she helped her in and out of the tub.

By the time Dr. Fabrizio pronounced her “healing nicely,” Quinn was feeling a lot better. Her shoulder was tender and still needed to remain immobile, but the worst of her bruises and scrapes were fading. She switched to an over-the-counter painkiller, which meant she was more alert and she was permitted one short glass of wine with dinner.

Thus, she felt confident saying, “I can take a train to Vienna,” when Micah’s housekeeper was dispatched to pack her new clothes into her new luggage. Granted, that would all be tricky to manage on her own, but Micah was flying to Berlin. “Berlin is completely out of my way.” And would keep her in his.

“We have the awards banquet.” He glanced up from sliding his laptop into his leather bag. “If you think you’re up for traveling alone to Vienna, you should be able to sit through a dinner and a handful of speeches—which will sap my strength, I’ll grant you.”

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