Page 8 of A Convenient Ring to Claim Her

“You don’t know that,” he growled. “Did she leave your keys at least?”

“I put them in my bag.”

“Good. Let’s go.” He moved to the door.

“You go. Eden told me to enjoy the room. I plan to do exactly that.” She collected a clean glass from the bar and brought it to the coffee table, where she glugged a healthy pour from the open bottle of rosé.

“Your car is at the vineyard. How will you get back to it?”

“Hitchhike?” She sipped her wine as she moved to flick through the rack of clothing.

“I know you’re saying that to wind me up.”

“I don’t understand why it works.”

“Because Icare, Quinn. You’re my sister’s best friend.”

“Is that what I am?” She pressed the rim of her glass to her mouth, but her lashes lifted to send him a look that kicked him in the chest.

“Did you want to be something more than my sister’s best friend?” he challenged.

Her gaze dropped to a blouse. “No.”

“No,” he repeated. The word tasted sour on his tongue. He wasn’t sure why.

They had incredible chemistry in bed, but Quinn had made clear on many occasions that she didn’t want anything more from him than sex. Micah was reminded often by his aunt that he should marry and “secure the Gould legacy,” but he wasn’t ready to tie himself down, either.

He often wondered how he had come to have a secretive sometimes-affair with Quinn at all. Initially, he’d been very suspicious of her.

Eden’s wealth and pedigree as a Bellamy, coupled with her soft heart, had made her a target in her teens for users and vapid social climbers. Quinn had been different—a dry-witted orphan with eyes too big for her narrow face. Unlike the squealing girls who wanted to troll beaches for boys, Quinn had persuaded Eden to visit cultural sites and be home on time for dinner.

Cynic that he was, Micah assumed he was being lulled toward a false sense of security. That’s why, during their trip to Saint Moritz, when Quinn had behaved very shiftily, passing something to Eden, Micah had presumed it was drugs.

It had turned out to be a feminine necessity. Eden had been mortified.

Why are you embarrassing me?

He had apologized and Quinn had accepted it, but she’d been stoic after that. Micah had told himself he didn’t care what she thought of him. Eden was his priority, but the glimpse of hurt and injured pride that Quinn quickly masked had sat on his conscience.

As time wore on, she became the friend Eden most often brought when she visited him—and the one he most preferred. She was pleasant, intelligent and savvy. She was a grounding influence on his sister, not caring for fashion or parties. Quinn was focused on her education, planning a career in social work, but not ruling out politics if that was the best way to make a difference.

Anyone else saying those things would have struck him as idealistic, or too full of themselves. He found himself respecting someone so driven at such an early age, though.

Then, one day, he had walked into his Paris mansion and found a composed young woman whose lithe figure lit such a bonfire of lust in him, he immediately rejected it. She was his sister’s friend. Achild.

She’d been nineteen and mature beyond her years, but still. It hadn’t felt right to look at her the way a man looked at a woman.

She had thrown some remark in his face and things had deteriorated further that night, when he accosted Remy. He knew she’d been insulted by his patronizing dismissal of her because she didn’t take any of the clothes she had put on his account. She had asked his housekeeper to have them returned instead.

As far as people who held grudges went, Quinn was his equal, which didn’t exactly help them get along in the long term.

So leave, he told himself.

She was ignoring him, sipping her wine as she held different items of clothing against her front.

His plethora of responsibilities danced in his periphery, but Eden didn’t want his help right now. She’d run away to prevent him from offering it. His mother wouldn’t be missing him. Despite the drama of her daughter’s wedding being called off, she was enjoying the chance to catch up with various relatives.

He turned to fix the latch that was propping the door open.

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