Page 4 of A Convenient Ring to Claim Her

When they arrived, Remy had tried to include Quinn when he asked Eden to dance, but Quinn had preferred to sulk over Micah dismissing her as a child. Then, after Micah turned up and confronted Remy, nearly coming to blows with him, Remy had kept his distance from Eden for five years. He had seemed prepared to let her marry his best friend even though Quinn had caught him looking at Eden in a way that was both anguished and covetous. Fatalistic and tortured.

It had hurt her to see it and it had mirrored something in Eden’s expression when she had told Quinn that, much to her shock, Remy was Hunter’s best man.

This was why she never wanted to fall in love! It looked very messy and painful.

But Eden deserved to be loved. She was kind and supportive and had given Quinn so many advantages and experiences she otherwise wouldn’t have had. She would do anything for her, even try to get her grumpy brother’s buy-in on their forbidden relationship.

“Tell me about this feud of yours with Remy.” Quinn began to pick out her hairpins. “His father stole proprietary information from yours and you’re still mad about it?”

“No.”

“No that’s not what happened? Or no, you won’t tell me?”

“Both.”

Typical. “Fine. Remember this obstructionism of yours the next time you want to know why I always side with Eden.” Her friend gave her unconditional love and unvarnished truth. Micah gave her great orgasms and very little of himself.

“I know he’s bad news. That’s all you need to know.”

Because I’m a child?

No matter how much she wanted to sneer that at him, she still cringed when she thought of it.

Still unwinding the twists and braids in her hair, she pretended great interest in the landscape, but she didn’t see it. She was thinking about how she had even come to be sitting here, ever grateful for a tiny crumb of contact with this very exasperating man.

Micah loved his kid sister, distance and different fathers notwithstanding. From the time he had reached adulthood and could arrange it, he had brought Eden to visit him in Europe where he spoiled her mercilessly. Eventually, when his work commitments and her desire for shopping and other frivolous pursuits conflicted, he had begun suggesting she invite a friend.

Quinn secretly believed he had been vetting her friendships, culling the ones who hung on to Eden because of her modest celebrity and significant wealth. Bellamy Home and Garden was an iconic Canadian chain, and one of Eden’s grandfathers was a radio personality.

Quinn had met Eden when they were fifteen, both attending a French immersion program in Montreal. Many of the students had booked into it as a chance to get away midsummer. Their parents had sent them for the same reason, but Quinn had been there on a scholarship for the disadvantaged. In the disorder of the registration hall, someone behind Quinn had overheard her being redirected to the desk for “those on financial assistance.”

Quinn had earned a pithy look from the student as she turned.

He had given her an up-and-down scan to take in her out of fashion jeans and secondhand top. “They let anyone in, don’t they?” he said to the girl next to him. “Andourparents’ taxes pay for it.”

“I earned my place on merit,” Quinn had shot back in solid French, used to having to stand up for herself. “That’s more than you can say, isn’t it?”

Eden, standing in the next queue over, had been the only one with enough French to catch the pun. She had burst out laughing.

“Pleaselet me be your roommate. I don’t want to get stuck with a dud who can’t even make me laugh.”

Quinn had been pushed around and moved around most of her life. She didn’t form solid connections with anyone. She had roomed with Eden and they had some good laughs, but she expected it would be yet another nice but superficial and temporary friendship.

Eden wasn’t like that. She checked in and reached out. She stuck.

It had taken years for Quinn to quit being surprised by that and accept that Eden expected them to be friends forever. Thus, she’d hadn’t expected Eden’s invitation the following summer to come with her to her brother’s villa in Greece.

It was such a ridiculous idea, Quinn had immediately dismissed it. The bureaucracy alone was prohibitive. Quinn had still been a ward of the government. Eden was the patient, persistent, anything-is-possible type, though. She had downloaded forms and made calls and somehow all the hoops and barrels were jumped. Quinn had been allowed to go.

Meeting Micah at sixteen, Quinn had been both intimidated and infatuated. He was seven years older and already running a global enterprise that had its footings in robotics engineering. He was rich and handsome and radiated caged energy. His aloof, sarcastic demeanor would have scared the hell out of her if she hadn’t seen his indulgent human side with his sister. Eden wasn’t afraid to tease him and it made Quinn envious of her confidence in their relationship.

Quinn knew she was on trial as far as he was concerned. She was always on trial in a new house with new people, but she must have passed muster. She’d been invited to ski with them that winter in Saint Moritz. The following summer, Quinn declined Eden’s invitation. She had a summer job and was saving for her postsecondary education. Eden visited her for a week in PEI, then took someone else to Micah’s London penthouse.

He must not have cared for that friend because he insisted Eden bring Quinn when they met him in Rome the next year, when they graduated from high school. Quinn had only been able to steal ten days, needing to hurry back to the summer job she had lined up, but she dragged Eden through every cathedral and ruin she could find within a few hours’ radius before joining Micah in the evenings.

“You genuinely enjoy relics and history, don’t you?” Micah said with something like bemusement after she finished an animated description of their day trip to Pompeii.

“I like to learn,” she agreed, self-conscious of her enthusiasm. “I find it both frustrating and reassuring that the more things change, the more they stay the same. Two thousand years later, it’s still go to work, feed the kids. Visit a brothel.” She rolled her eyes.

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