Page 40 of A Convenient Ring to Claim Her

She turned and let Micah clasp the weighty stones around her neck.

A short while later, she was on Micah’s arm, walking the red carpet, overwhelmed by all the shouting and camera flashes.

A microphone was shoved in her face and a vaguely familiar celebrity asked her, “Who are you wearing tonight?”

“The gown is from House of Lakshmi, the necklace is from the Barsi group. The sling is by prescription,” she deadpanned.

That caused a ripple of laughter in the gallery and another flurry of flashes, but she and Micah were finally allowed to enter the building. The rest of the evening was sedate by comparison. Micah had ensured that everyone at their table spoke English and one was the wife of his project manager who worked at the Canadian embassy here in Berlin, which was a thoughtful touch on his part.

They ate and awards were presented, then the lights changed and the orchestra switched to ballroom tunes.

“Shall we?” Micah held out a hand. “We missed our chance at Eden’s wedding to Hunter.”

Quinn was so shocked by his saying that, as if he’d been looking forward to dancing with her, she let him lead her into the growing crowd. Once there, she had to admit, “I don’t really know how to do this.” She felt awkward with her one arm fixed in the sling and his searching for her waist beneath it.

“Let me lead.” He shifted them slightly so one side of her body was pressed closer to his, then he easily guided her through the steps.

With him, anything physical was easy. Natural. As though they were made to move together in coordination.

“Thank you for coming tonight,” he said. “Everyone is completely charmed by you.”

Charmed? That was laying it on thick, but a short while later, one of his executives subtly prodded for details of their relationship.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen him bring a date to one of these things. Usually it’s his assistant or a VIP from elsewhere.”

Quinn started to brush that off and insist she was “just a friend of his sister,” but stopped herself. It felt demeaning toward him and maybe herself to pretend they meant nothing to each other. Whatdidthey mean to each other, though?

She couldn’t speak for his feelings. Passion, obviously, but she was always throwing herself at him. The fact that he didn’t take other lovers, or seem to date anyone else, was heartening, but he was a busy man. It didn’t follow that he preferred her in some way.

He was decent enough not to lead anyone on, though. And kind enough to spend a night in hospital with her. He was generous, but possessed enough acuity to know she would rather use the cost of a necklace to help children than own such an extravagant piece herself. Not that he would buy it for her in the first place. They weren’tthattight.

But they were close enough he knew how to make her laugh. He made her feel a lot of things.

Oh, dear. As she struggled to close her clutch over the pearlescent pink lipstick she had just refreshed, she blinked hot eyes, fearful she was falling in love with him. No. She had always loved him, of course, in the way of an adolescent crush and “my best friend’s brother” way. She had always trusted him and admired him and found him deeply attractive.

Somewhere along the line, she had managed to convince herself that she could feel all those things and keep those feelings in safe little boxes that wouldn’t swish and leak into each other and flood her up with other more dangerous emotions like yearning and insatiable hunger for his attention. Like an attachment that needed to see him and hear his voice and touch him every single day.

No, Quinn. No. Everything ends.Everything.

Disturbed, she returned to the ballroom where he asked if she wanted to dance again.

“Do you mind if we leave? I’m ready to give up custody of this necklace.”

The bodyguard signed for it the moment they returned to Micah’s apartment, then left them alone.

“Nightcap?”

“No.” She was still shaken at how her emotions were running away with her. She was at war with herself, wanting to self-protect, but also thinking that if things were going to end between them sooner rather than later, she wanted to make the most of the time they had.

“Tired?”

“No. I—Will you come to my room?” she asked in a request that left her standing out on a narrow plank.

He went still, not playing dumb, only saying solemnly, “I thought we weren’t going to do that.”

“I don’t want to find words.” There weren’t any, not for all the emotions swirling in her. They were too vast and disarming. “I just want you.”

Even saying that much left her walking a tightrope suspended between skyscrapers.

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