Page 22 of A Convenient Ring to Claim Her

“Signor Gould?” An assistant with a clipboard caught his eye and motioned that he had paperwork of his own to sign.

He stepped away and the curtain was pulled firmly closed behind him.

CHAPTER SIX

HEDIDN’TSEEher again for hours. The nurse told him there was a delay as they assembled the team and prepared the theater, that Quinn was lightly sedated and resting comfortably, but it annoyed him that she was abandoned like luggage in some prep ward where he couldn’t be with her.

He made a number of calls and answered a few emails, then he was stuck pacing the private room Quinn had been given.

The suite more closely resembled a five-star hotel than a hospital room. The bed had a wooden head and footboard and was made up with cheerful yellow bedding and a colorful throw. Mahogany panels hid equipment inside the walls while spring-green drapes covered a window that ran the length of the room.

It was dark, so he left them closed.

Along with two armchairs, there were two dining chairs, a small table, and a kitchenette with a kettle, a microwave and a selection of light snacks in the small refrigerator.

No booze, which was a pity, but he made coffee, feeling as though he’d lived a lifetime since Quinn had shown up in his foyer four hours ago. He kept thinking about that moment when he’d almost gone after her, then let her go. If he’d delayed her by seconds, this accident wouldn’t have happened.

It was a test and you failed.

Those words were barbed thorns that dug deeper under his skin each time he tried to pick them out. He wanted to reject them. He was no expert on relationships, but he knew they weren’t supposed to be like that, where you set someone up and cut them off when they disappointed you. He was trained to hate failure of any kind. To feel it as deep shame. His perfectionist tendencies were the result of drills, not a true compulsion to be flawless.

If she had told him what the test was, he would have passed, damn it.

Maybe.

It wasn’t even a relationship and this is why. I knew it would end and I knew that when it did, you would be ruthless about severing all ties.

He had never expected their affair to go on as long as it did. Their first time was supposed to be their only time. It had been her first time ever, which had shocked him when he had realized. He’d been past the point of no return, buried to his root inside her, nearly mindless with carnal need, but it had penetrated that her tension was more than nervous shyness. It was discomfort, despite her enthusiastic encouragement and the powerful orgasm he’d just delivered with his mouth.

“Why me?” He’d been floored. Humbled.

“I trust you’ll never hurt me.”

“I just did.” He’d never been so overcome with tenderness and chagrin.

“Not that bad.” She turned her mouth into his neck.

He’d taken such care with her after that, determined to make it good for her. It had been amazing. Giving her orgasms had been a drug he couldn’t quit. Their “only today” had turned into three more stolen opportunities before she left.

Maybe there’d been a part of him that had testedherafter that. She’d claimed it would be a one-off and he had deliberately not reached out afterward, convinced she would text or call first. He was a wanted man—a bachelor with a fortune—but that had never seemed to impress her.

The complete radio silence from her had dented his ego, if he was honest. Then he’d turned up for Eden’s birthday and during a lively round of singing over a cake full of candles, Quinn had leaned over to him.

“Do you want me to come to your room later?”

“Yes.” He’d spent the rest of that dinner drowning in anticipation.

His mother’s birthday had been the next time, then a New Year’s Eve party, another birthday—he couldn’t remember whose. They’d even hooked up after Eden’s father’s funeral. That had felt wrong, but also incredibly right. They were getting good at sex by then, stripping without ceremony and testing the load-bearing weight of various pieces of furniture.

Micah had come to Toronto to meet Hunter when Eden was contemplating becoming engaged to him and it had felt strange to have a family dinner without Quinn at the table. She’d been tied up with her thesis, according to Eden.

Quinn had texted him later that night, though.

You up for a nightcap? I need a break from the books.

She’d only been in his hotel room an hour, but what an hour. They’d barely spoken, consuming each other like animals. She’d been gone when he woke, almost leaving him with the sense it had been a particularly vivid wet dream.

He’d missed Eden’s engagement party, which had meant he missed an opportunity to see Quinn. He’d felt it, much to his disgruntlement. By the time Eden’s wedding had rolled around, he’d been champing at the bit to see Quinn. There’d been too many social demands at the rehearsal dinner to steal away with her and Quinn had been glued to Eden’s side all night.

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