Midnight Lies: The Wildefire Series (20 page)

“He didn’t do this, Zach.”

“Are you sure? He was almost arrested for the murder of his ex-wife. And they never
found her killer. You rebuffed him when he came to see you. Did you argue again?”

Yes, they had argued, but that had nothing to do with her almost getting run over.

“It wasn’t him,” Samantha said again. Knowing Zach would want more than her assurance,
she added, “Quinn has an Audi, a large one. Eight cylinders. It would have had no
problem picking up speed in an instant. This was either a small car or truck, I’m
sure of it.”

“Half the residents of Midnight have either a small car or truck.”

Samantha nodded. “I know.”

“Do you think this could have anything to do with Cruz?” Savvy asked.

“I doubt it. What’s the benefit of maiming or killing me? It wouldn’t help them find
Lauren.”

“Maybe the guy saw it as a way to get your attention … threaten or scare you.” Going
all motherly, as
she tended to do with those she loved, Savvy stood and held out her hand. “Let’s get
you home and into a hot bath. That’ll ease the aches.”

Refusing to allow her sister to help her up, Samantha slowly got to her feet. She
winced … her entire body was already stiff. She was going to be sore tomorrow.

“I’ll take you both home and then I’ll go hunting. Unless you have some old enemies
you don’t know about, this person is new to the area. I know most of the vehicles
in this town. If I see one I don’t know …” He shrugged.

She knew what the shrug meant. It was way past a long shot that the vehicle would
be found and the driver identified.

As she thanked the doctor and made her way out of the clinic, Samantha’s tired mind
whirled with a multitude of questions. Who would want to hurt her and why? Did this
have something to do with Cruz? Or was it someone from her past who held a grudge?
Contrary to what her sister believed, there had been more than a few people in school
who hadn’t liked her. Holding on to a grudge for that long seemed unlikely, but who
else could it have been? Some kids on a joyride, scaring the crap out of a runner
just for kicks? If so, she’d like the opportunity to have a chat with them and their
parents.

As much as she was hurting, she did feel good about one thing. Even though a future
with Quinn wasn’t possible and he’d hurt her with his purchase of the house she’d
always wanted, at least she could assure Zach that without a doubt this had nothing
to do with Quinn Braddock.

Quinn’s first night in his new home had been about as miserable as he’d ever had.
He’d spent two nights stuck in a dank, dark cave in Iraq under heavy fire and it hadn’t
been as bad as last night.

He’d fucked up. Again. Instead of rashly buying this place, he should’ve talked to
Sam about it. Maybe that was the reason he wasn’t prone to impulsive behavior. Dumbass
moves resulted in major regret. Now he had to fix it.

Dressed before dawn, Quinn stood on the small pier of the lake and watched the sunrise
turn the water into a sparkling ripple of golden light. The color reminded him of
Sam’s hair and how it could glow like sunshine. Had she ever experienced daybreak
here?

He turned away from the spectacular sight and headed to his car. Last night guilt
had consumed him. The hurt in Sam’s eyes, which he had once again caused, had pained
him a hell of a lot more than when she had thought him a murderer. Today that guilt
had coalesced into a half-assed plan. He would apologize again. Then what?

They needed to air their differences, get beyond this. Because if she thought they
were over, she was wrong. They hadn’t even started yet. He’d never been a quitter.
And one thing he knew for sure, quitting with Sam was out of the question.

Quinn pulled up in front of Samantha’s home. She should be up by now, though the thought
of a warm, sleepy Sam was a definite turn-on. How many times had he woken her with
slow, teasing kisses until she was groaning for more?

His hands clenched the steering wheel as he forced his body to ignore the image he’d
just created. Showing up with a hungry look in his eyes didn’t exactly scream long-term
relationship. She’d probably kick his ass or use her gun on him.

He focused on the stately home before him. When he’d been here before, he’d been so
intent on seeing her, he hadn’t really paid that much attention to the mansion. And
that’s exactly what it was—a mansion. He wasn’t an expert in history or architecture,
but he’d guess it to be at least a century and a half old. The tree-lined drive and
surrounding grounds were just as impressive.

Sam came from a wealthy family … something else he hadn’t known.

In northern Virginia, where he’d been raised, calling ahead of time was considered
polite and necessary. Dropping in on someone was crude and common. Since his parents
had deemed him crude from the moment he put on his first football uniform, that suited
him just fine.

His jaw set, his intent clear, Quinn pushed opened the car door and got out. The minute
he set foot on the porch, Samantha or one of her sisters would probably tell him to
leave. This time he would not be pushed away. He and Sam were going to have this discussion
whether she wanted it or not.

He was on the third step when the door opened and Sam stood there. He continued moving
forward even as he braced himself for her immediate rejection.

“I’m glad you’re here.”

His heart kicked up an optimistic beat. “You are?”

“Yes, I’ve been thinking and you’re right, we do need to talk.” She opened the door
wider. “Come on in.”

Almost in disbelief, Quinn took the rest of the steps two at a time. This had been
way too easy. The moment he saw her face, everything he wanted to say flew out of
his mind. “What the hell happened?”

She touched the vivid bruise and scarlet red scratches on her right cheek. “I took
a bit of a tumble last night.”

“How? What happened?”

A slender, elegant hand lifted as if it was no matter. But it did matter … it mattered
a hell of a lot. Quinn fisted his hands at his side to keep from reaching for her.
The thought of her being hurt, in any way, twisted his gut.

“Come on in. Savvy made some hot apple cider yesterday. Would you like some?”

Quinn stepped through the door. He was only vaguely aware of the massive foyer and
elegant surroundings. His total focus was on the marks on her face. And from the stiff
way she was holding her right arm, he had a feeling the scratches and bruises on her
face were just a small part of her injuries.

“What I want is for you to tell me what happened.”

She grimaced. “I fell. No biggie.”

He recognized evasiveness when he saw it. Deciding to let it go for the time being,
he asked, “Where are you hurt?”

“Just some bruises and scratches. Really … it’s nothing.” She turned and said, “Let’s
go into the parlor.”

Quinn followed her past several rooms. Though he was mostly focused on the stiffness
of her gait, he glanced at the rooms they passed and admired the warmth of their décor.
Someone had taken pains to make each room
warm and inviting. The instant they entered the parlor, he knew why she had brought
him to this particular room. It was cool, elegant, and downright unwelcoming. This
was his mother’s kind of room. Little warmth but plenty of pretension. He would imagine
this was where visitors who weren’t really welcome were brought. Pain stabbed at his
chest that Sam had lumped him into that group.

“Have a seat. You sure you wouldn’t care for some refreshments? Perhaps some coffee
or hot tea?”

And she was acting like the cool, polite hostess. The loose khaki pants and long-sleeved
white T-shirt, along with her ponytail, were casual and totally incongruent with her
chilly attitude.

He shook his head at her offer. What he wanted was to break the ice she seemed determined
to surround herself with. The Sam he knew wasn’t this cold, emotionless woman in front
of him. She was sweet, at times innocent and shy. And so damn sexy. She was putting
on a performance and he wanted it to stop.

Because of that, he was deliberately blunt. “Are you ready to stop acting like a child
and talk to me?”

Fire flared in her eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, most likely a healthy,
equally rude retort. As quickly as the fire had appeared, it evaporated. She nodded
and said, “You’re right. I’ve been avoiding talking to you.” She waved her hand at
an uncomfortable-looking, flower-patterned chair. “Please, have a seat.”

Her icy politeness only fueled his determination to crack that frozen exterior. He
sat down just to have that out of the way. As soon as he was seated, she took a chair
across from him and said, “I apologize for my outburst yesterday. I know you didn’t
maliciously buy the Hartley place to hurt me.”

“I’m glad you’re smart enough to figure that out.”

The only reaction was a slight tensing at her mouth. Then she continued with what
he was sure she felt was the sophisticated way to end a relationship. “However, you
having a home in Midnight makes no sense. There’s nothing for you here.”

“Oh, I don’t know about that. I’ve met some very nice people here and the weather
is quite pleasant. I anticipate that I’ll be spending all of my holidays and vacations
here.”

Heat hit her eyes once again and elation surged through him. Sam’s coolness was slowly
but surely melting.

“Quinn … seriously, that makes no sense. Tell you what, I’ll buy the place from you.
That way you won’t be out anything.”

“I have a better idea. Why don’t you live there? You can oversee the repairs for me.”

Like a rocket, she zoomed to her feet, the icy demeanor gone in a flash. “You jerk.
I’m not your damn employee.”

Figuring she was getting close to detonation, Quinn swallowed his triumphant laugh.
This was the Sam he wanted to see. “You misunderstood. You wouldn’t be my employee,
as I hadn’t planned to pay you.” He shrugged. “After all, you’d be living there for
free.”

Her entire body trembling with temper, she snapped, “No, I will not live there and
oversee your repairs. You’ve used me enough.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Sex, Quinn, that’s what I’m talking about.”

Stunned, he could only stare at her for a few seconds. Finally able to put together
a coherent sentence, he didn’t bother to temper his words. “What the fucking hell
are you talking about?”

“That last night with you. That’s what I’m talking about. You screwed me.”

Now as furious as she was, he shot to his feet and stalked over to her. “We had sex
and if I’m not mistaken, you were satisfied more than once that night.”

“Yes, congratulations. Your penis did its job. You, however, were an ass.”

Myriad emotions hit him at once—anger at her accusation, frustration at the situation,
and fury at himself because he knew there was truth in her words. Calling on the control
he’d honed over the years, Quinn nodded. “You’re right, I was. And I’m sorry.”

She gasped slightly, apparently not expecting the admission. Looking temporarily disarmed,
she opened her mouth as if to speak and then stopped. Her head shaking in denial,
she backed away. “I can’t do this, Quinn,” she whispered. “Not again. We want different
things.”

“Tell me what you want, Sam. Please. Don’t just assume I won’t give it to you. Let’s
talk it out.”

Samantha held herself still and stiff as emotions snarled and clawed like vicious
angry beasts, threatening to erupt. She wanted to throw herself into Quinn’s arms.
She wanted to demand that he get out of her house and her life. She wanted to shout
that she loved him. She wanted him to tell her he loved her. She wanted …

No, she couldn’t do this. Telling him she wanted something permanent would be pointless.
That was the one thing he’d made clear he didn’t want. And going back with him in
hopes he would change his mind? She couldn’t put herself at risk. What if he decided
a few months from now that it was over? Better to take the pain now than face devastation
later.

“What I want, Quinn, is for you to leave. I’m sorry for what happened. We were both
at fault. Let’s just leave it there.”

“Like hell.” He pulled her into his arms, covered
her mouth with his, and spoke softly against her lips. “Sam … don’t, baby. I don’t
want to lose you.”

She had always considered herself strong willed, but the instant Quinn whispered those
words, she went weak. Groaning her surrender, she plastered herself against his body
and let him take control. His mouth, gentle, insistent, authoritative, and delicious,
moved over hers as if he couldn’t get enough. All worries washed away as she gave
herself up to the wondrous feeling of being in Quinn’s arms again. Why had she waited
so long? This was what she wanted … what she would always want.

“Sammie … I’m sorry to interrupt.”

Samantha didn’t know who moved first. Suddenly she was out of Quinn’s arms and looking
at her sister, who stood at the door, looking paler than Samantha had seen her in
years.

“Savvy, what’s wrong?”

Stark panic and fear in her eyes, Savvy whispered, “I’m bleeding.”

Before Samantha could react, Quinn was there. He gently scooped Savvy into his arms,
put her on the couch, and propped her feet on a pillow. Samantha went to her knees
beside the couch and held her sister’s hand.

Quinn’s voice was gentle but authoritative. “How far along are you, Savannah?”

“A little over three months.”

“Have you had bleeding before?”

“Not this time.”

“This time?”

Samantha lifted her eyes briefly and explained, “Ten years ago. She had trouble with
her first pregnancy.”

Quinn turned his gaze back to Savvy. “Can your obgyn meet us at the clinic?”

Savvy shook her head. “He’s out of town. He’s referred all his patients to the doctor
at the clinic.”

Nudging Samantha slightly, he lifted Savvy in his arms again. “Okay, that’s where
I’m taking you.” With her sister in his arms, he shot a glance at Samantha. “Call
her husband and have him meet us there.”