The Mighty Quinns: Ronan (22 page)

Even angry with her, he still wanted to yank her into his arms and kiss her senseless. What would it take to prove that he cared, that he wouldn’t betray her as other men in her life had? He wanted their relationship to be open and uncomplicated, but as time went on, he seemed to get more tangled in the mess that was her past.

“If you tell him I’m here,” Eden shouted, “then I’ll tell him exactly what we’ve been doing.”

Marcus spun around and strode back to her, crawling back into the cockpit. Hell, he’d had enough. If she wanted a fight, then he’d give it to her. “Go ahead, Princess,” he said, standing toe-to-toe with her. “I don’t give a shit. Tell him how you felt the first time I made you come. Tell him how you murmured my name when I went down on you last night. Tell him how much you want me to fuck you. Because I know you do, Eden.”

He saw her hand coming and blocked the slap before it could make contact, his fingers clamping around her wrist. They stood frozen, both of them breathing hard.

“I don’t want you,” she murmured.

“You do,” he said. “Just as much as I want you.”

She shook her head, tears spilling out of her eyes. Marcus loosened his grip, suddenly angry with himself for pushing her so far. But he wanted her to see the truth. There was something happening between them, something that neither one of them wanted to define, and the hell if she was going to blame him for it.

“I’ve been protecting you from the minute you arrived,” he said, “and I’m going to continue to do that for as long as you want me to. You can believe whatever you want about my motives, Eden—I don’t care. But don’t you dare try to sell the story that this wasn’t mutual between us.”

She flexed her fingers and Marcus finally let her go. “Stay away from me,” she murmured. “Just leave me alone.”

“No problem,” he replied.

“And don’t tell me how to run my life.”

“Somebody should,” he replied. “Because you’re doing a damn pitiful job of it on your own.”

“And you think you have the magic key to happiness?”

“At least I know where I’m going, Eden. I’ve got a plan.”

“One of us needs to get off this boat,” Eden warned. “And I’m not leaving.”

“Not to worry, I will,” he said. He stalked to the rear of the boat and climbed back down the ladder to the dinghy. With a flick of his wrist, he started the motor and steered out into the water, trying to calm his temper.

Though he hadn’t known Eden long, this afternoon’s conversation with her father had been a revelation. She was a grown woman, beautiful and desirable, yet she was still a child, trapped in the past. She wasn’t angry at him—he was simply a convenient target. Marcus fought the temptation to glance back at the boat. Now that he’d walked away, all he could think about was going back, pulling her into his arms and kissing away all her fears.

His thoughts wandered back to the previous night on the beach. How had they managed to go from unmitigated passion to uncontrolled anger in less than a day? If this was how it was going to be between them, life on board together would be intolerable.

Marcus took a deep breath. He’d finished most of the crucial work. He could take the rest back to the shop and do it there, leaving Eden to her own devices. But they’d shared far too much for it to end so quickly.

“How the hell did you think it would end?” Marcus muttered to himself. Would they just shake hands politely and then go their separate ways? Would she make up some silly reason for having to leave, then try to convince him that it was for the best? No, this was the way it was bound to happen, with anger and accusations.

He glanced back at the boat and saw her standing in the cockpit, her arms braced on the boom, watching him. He’d give her time to cool off and then he’d go back and get his things. It was better this way, to end it quickly, to get out without too many scars. Before long, she’d be a distant memory—a very vivid but distant memory.

* * *

E
DEN
PUNCHED
IN
THE
code for the garage and waited for the doors to open. She glanced over her shoulder, watching for any sign of the caretaker. Thank God her father hadn’t changed the code for the security system on the house. She’d managed to get inside and grab some fresh clothes and the keys to several of her father’s cars without being detected.

Sarah, the housekeeper, usually finished by early afternoon and, when the family wasn’t in residence, spent her evenings with her grandkids in Middleton. The caretaker for the estate normally worked on the grounds in the morning, but today he was mowing the west lawn, out of view of the driveway and the garages.

She stepped inside and perused her choices for transportation—the vintage Thunderbird was far too flashy and the Ferrari had a stick shift that she didn’t know how to operate. Then there was the black Mercedes convertible. She wouldn’t seem entirely out of place in Newport in that car.

She unlocked the door and tossed her bag into the passenger seat, then slipped behind the wheel. As she reached for the ignition, she glanced up at the rearview mirror, catching sight of her red-rimmed eyes.

Drawing a deep breath, she gathered her resolve, trying to ignore the ache in her heart. She’d been wrong to get angry at Marcus. But he’d had no right to speak to her in that way. They had no claims on each other. They were barely friends—friends with benefits, nothing more.

She didn’t need him—for protection or sex. In truth, she didn’t need anyone, not her parents, not her friends. From now on, the only person she would depend upon was herself. A ragged sob tore from her throat, and Eden forced back the tears that threatened to return.

Why was she so upset? The man drove her crazy. And he was starting to interfere in her life, trying to make decisions for her, telling her what she should and shouldn’t do. What did he care if her life was messed up? It was
her
life, not his. Eden had always lived in the moment, and there was absolutely nothing wrong with that. People who planned their lives were…boring and unimaginative.

But some of Marcus’s accusations had rung true. Eden was forced to confront the fact that she really had never set any goals for her life. She’d just expected that happiness would find her. But that hadn’t happened yet, and over the past several years she’d begun to wonder if it ever would.

She’d been happy with Marcus, though. The short time they’d spent together on the boat had proved to her that happiness could be found. She just had to look a little harder for it.

Odd how she hadn’t found it where she’d thought she would, with some handsome heir to a European fortune, a man who could take care of her and her money in the style to which she’d become accustomed. She’d found it with an ordinary guy from a regular family.

Eden had never been one to dwell on the past or to regret her mistakes. But since she’d met Marcus, she’d begun to feel the first deep pangs of remorse. Maybe she hadn’t lived a life she could be proud of. She’d blown through most of her trust fund and would soon be forced to marry for money or ask her father to support her. But there were other choices.

She reached up to find her face damp with tears and impatiently brushed them away. “And you can begin right now,” she said. It wasn’t too late to make something more of herself. The problem was, she wasn’t sure that she was qualified to be anything more than Eden Ross, international party girl.

Eden backed the car out of the garage, then pushed the remote for the garage door. She slowly navigated the curving driveway and when she reached the main gate she punched in the code. A minute later she was on Ocean Avenue, heading into Newport.

As Eden steered toward the Newport Bridge, she noticed a sign for the local discount store. Though she’d never shopped there, she understood that the store had everything a regular person could possibly need to live comfortably. Sarah, their housekeeper, had been quite excited when the store opened seven years before. And it was supposed to be cheap. Since Eden had arrived in the States, she’d lived off the cash in her wallet because she didn’t want her credit cards traced.

The parking lot was packed, and Eden pulled the Mercedes into a distant row, then covered her hair with a baseball cap and slipped on her sunglasses. “You can do this,” she said. “Just act like a regular person.”

She slipped out of the car and locked the door behind her, then strolled up to the front entrance. Grabbing a shopping cart, she figured it would serve as a good weapon in case she was recognized. But to her surprise, she was able to stroll the aisles with barely a curious glance from other shoppers.

The variety of merchandise astounded her. She could buy a television, nacho chips and diamond earrings in the very same store. She grabbed some pretty pastel skirts and a few T-shirts and two pairs of sandals before discovering the beauty aisles.

Eden suddenly felt rather proud of herself. She was just a regular person wandering the aisles. If only Marcus could— She stopped the thought before she had a chance to finish it. Every experience she’d had over the past five days had involved him, and without even realizing it, she’d let him become a part of her life.

She’d been swept away by a man she hadn’t even known a week ago. He had restored some order and serenity to her life and now it felt as if she couldn’t exist without him. She wanted him here by her side, sharing this simple experience with her. She needed to hear his voice and hold his hand.

A lump of emotion clogged her throat and she swallowed it back. God, this was ridiculous! The pattern had become so familiar it was a wonder she couldn’t recognize it. He’d shown her simple affection and undeniable passion and suddenly he’d become the focus of her life.

Eden shook her head, pushing aside all thoughts of Marcus Quinn. It was time to move on with her life, and this time she would be in control…not Marcus and not her father.

As Eden passed the hair color, she paused, then picked up a box and studied the photo on the front. If she really wanted to blend in, then it was time for a drastic course of action. She’d dye her hair. If she wasn’t a blonde anymore, then no one would recognize her. And how difficult could it be if everything she needed came in the little box?

“I’m not a complete idiot,” she murmured as she read the directions. “Regular people do this all the time.”

A medium brown came as close to her natural color as possible, so she tossed the box into the cart and then looked for a pair of scissors. She’d cut her hair, as well, just to make sure.

Satisfied that her first experience at a discount store had been a great success, Eden headed toward the checkout counters. But as she waited in line she noticed the racks of tabloids standing in her way. She winced as she saw her name splashed on the covers of
Gossip Weekly, The National Inquisitor
and
WOW!

Thankfully they’d blurred out the indecent parts in the photos. And though the lighting wasn’t the best, her body didn’t look that bad. She’d been twenty-three when the tape was made and a bit thinner than she was now. Her hair had been cropped short back then. As she looked at the picture, she tried to recall everything that had happened that night, but her mind was blank.

She couldn’t imagine forgetting any of the details of her time with Marcus. She’d always remember how smooth and warm his skin was and how she could follow a thin line of hair from just above his navel to his waistband and beyond. And how his voice sounded when he said her name, and how the dimple in his right cheek would appear when he smiled. She would remember how he’d kissed her that first time, passionately at first and then, before drawing away, giving her one short and sweet kiss for good measure.

And how he’d seduced her with his lips and his tongue, how he’d drawn out her desire until it had become an orgasm more powerful than she’d ever felt before. A dull ache settled inside her, a longing that would have to go unsatisfied.

Though she had multiple regrets about past lovers, she only had one with Marcus—they hadn’t had sex. They’d done everything but. It would have been nice to experience that one last thing with him, to have that memory to tuck away with the others.

No doubt there’d be other men in her life. But Eden couldn’t imagine wanting a man more than she had wanted Marcus. For the entire time she’d been on board
Victorious,
she’d found herself in a perpetual state of anticipation. He’d barely have to look at her and her mind would wander off into strange fantasies involving the two of them, naked and aroused.

“Ma’am? You’ll have to remove your merchandise from the basket before I can check you out.”

Eden glanced up and found the checker staring at her expectantly. “Right,” she said.

She set the hair dye and the scissors on the conveyor belt, then grabbed the latest issues of
The National Inquisitor, Gossip Weekly
and
WOW!
The checker glanced at the magazines, then looked up at her. Eden held her breath, hoping the baseball cap and dark glasses were enough to hide her identity.

Eden set the clothes and shoes on the belt. “Can you believe that Eden Ross?” she said to the checker. “What was that girl thinking?”

“Girls with her kind of money don’t need to think,” the checker said.

“No, probably not.”

“That’ll be thirty-six forty-seven.”

“That’s all?” Eden pulled two twenties out of her wallet and handed them to the cashier. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d walked out of a store for less than a thousand dollars!

The checker slipped the magazines into a plastic bag, then counted out Eden’s change. “You know, you look a lot like her.”

Eden forced a smile. If she didn’t play it completely cool, she’d be found out in a matter of seconds. “I know. I asked my hairdresser to do my hair just like hers. But after seeing this, I’ve decided to go back to my natural color. What girl would ever want to be like her?”

“I wouldn’t mind the money,” the checker said. “She’s got it made.”

“Maybe,” Eden replied. “Or maybe it just seems that way.” She grabbed her bags and hurried to the door. When she reached the parking lot, she breathed a long sigh of relief. Leading a regular life might not be as difficult as she thought.