The Mighty Quinns: Ronan (29 page)

Life with Marcus was exciting and interesting. They talked about important matters and joked about silly things. He respected her opinion and listened to her advice when it came to his work. And Eden admired everything that he’d made of his life so far.

But Eden had no illusions that it would be that way in the real world. If they stayed together, then he’d take on her past, as well—the celebrity, the press, the constant speculation and innuendo that seemed to follow her everywhere she went. Even if she moved to a mountaintop tomorrow, they’d chase after her for at least another year or two, trying to eke out one more salacious story.

She couldn’t ask him to be a part of all that. Even the most devoted lover would tire of the constant intrusions, as her past lovers had. Eden didn’t want to see what they’d shared turn nasty and awful. For the first time in her life she’d walk away while the memories were still worth remembering.

She studied Marcus as she fanned her toes to dry the first coat. Emotion surged up inside of her and she fought it back, gathering her resolve. Her thoughts wandered back to the encounter that they’d had earlier that week.

He’d been almost frantic to possess her, and she’d felt the same. They’d dropped the pretense that they were casual lovers and now made love without protection. Eden had always covered her own birth control, yet still insisted that her lovers use condoms. But it was different with Marcus. Deep down she knew she could trust Marcus. And he obviously knew that he could trust her. She’d wanted to share that one last thing before she left.

They could do this and they could do it right. Leaving didn’t have to be full of anger and recriminations. Goodbyes could be bittersweet. Maybe once life became simple for her again she could come back. And maybe if Marcus hadn’t found someone else, he might fall in love with her.

Marcus tossed the sketchbook aside and crawled across the sofa to sit next to her. Gently he took the bottle of polish from her fingers and started on her second coat.

“First you color my hair and now you do my toes,” Eden said. “You’re a handy guy to have around.”

He looked up and smiled. “I studied art in college. This can’t be any harder than Oil Painting 101.”

“Beauty college for you, clown college for me. I think we have a very promising future ahead of us, don’t you?” Her breath caught the moment she said the words, and Eden sent him a teasing smile, hoping that he’d take her comment as a joke.

“I think we’ll be very happy together,” he murmured. “I could dye your purple wigs and you could entertain my customers at the beauty shop.” Marcus twisted the cap back onto the bottle and handed it to her.

“I could do your toes,” she offered.

“No, thanks. Pink really isn’t my color.” He leaned back into the sofa and stretched his arm out, casually toying with her hair. “What time is your plane tomorrow?”

Eden closed her eyes. “Two,” she said. “I have a stop in Washington, D.C., but I’ll land in L.A. at about eight-thirty. My mother is sending a car to pick me up at the airport.”

“Did you get a reply from your father?”

She shook her head. “I wasn’t really expecting one.” Eden drew a deep breath. “Once I get back, I’m going to have to deal with the video, and it’s probably not going to be pleasant. My mother’s already called her lawyer, and I have just enough left in my trust fund to pay for him. If he can’t get the tape back, then I’m going to have to suffer the consequences.” She reached out and grabbed his hand, then squeezed it tight. “There’s going to be a lot written about me, but I want you to know that what’s on that tape was nothing close to what we had.”

“I know,” Marcus murmured.

Eden groaned. “I don’t want to talk about this. Not now.” She got up from the sofa and walked over to the kitchen, then walked back to Marcus. “Let’s go out. There must be a club around here somewhere. We’ll get dressed up and drink champagne and go dancing. It’ll be fun. A celebration of our last night together.”

Marcus shook his head. “You know what will happen, don’t you?”

“So what? Let’s risk it. I need some excitement. Don’t you ever get bored sitting around here?”

“Not with you around,” Marcus said.

Eden smiled. “Is that a yes?”

He sighed. “All right. But if things get crazy, we’re going to leave.”

“You do dance, don’t you?”

“Badly,” he said. “Although I can do the chicken dance. My niece taught me. And the Hokey Pokey. Does that count as a dance or is that technically a game?”

Giggling, Eden grabbed his hands and pulled him to his feet. “I’ll give you a quick lesson. We need music.” She ran over to the cabinet that held his stereo equipment and flipped on the radio, scanning through the stations until she found suitable music. Then, with a sexy smile, she wiggled her way back to him, swaying her hips provocatively and turning in circles to the music.

Marcus watched her, desire flickering in his eyes. She held up her arms as she approached, then pressed her hips against his and moved with the music. He tried to mimic her movements but he was off beat.

Eden grabbed his hips. “Just listen to the music. It’s like sex.”

“I can see that,” Marcus murmured, staring down at his groin. “And what if I have the same reaction on the dance floor as I’m having now?”

“Oh, that happens all the time,” Eden said.

He stopped. “Really?”

She nodded and pulled him back into the dance. “That’s why you’re only allowed to dance with me.” She turned around and moved her backside against his crotch, knowing full well the effect it was having on him. She placed his hands on her hips and bent over, rocking back against him with the beat of the music. Slowly he began to get the hang of it and Eden smiled. “You’re doing well,” she said. “See, it’s not so hard. I mean, the dancing. The other is impressively hard.”

“I’ve always been good at sex. And you can’t convince me that this is anything more than foreplay to music.” He grabbed her waist and spun her around, then pulled her into his arms and began to slow dance with her.

But Eden wasn’t about to be deterred. She hitched her right leg up along his hip and tucked his hand beneath her thigh, then began to move against him again.

“If you don’t stop that, we’re never going to get out of here.” Marcus bent her back at the waist and pressed his mouth to her neck.

Eden turned around and rubbed her backside against his crotch again. “I knew you’d like it,” she said.

But Marcus liked it a bit too much. With a playful growl, he grabbed her around the waist, picked her up off her feet and carried her toward the bed. They both tumbled onto the mattress, and he stretched out on top of her, pinning her arms above her head. His mouth came down on hers, and Eden lost herself in his kiss, the familiar taste of him like an addictive drug.

“Don’t you think it’s strange?” he murmured, nipping at her lower lip.

“What?”

“I teach you how to do your laundry and you teach me how to dance and each time we manage to make it about sex.” He nuzzled her neck. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ll ever get enough of you.”

Eden swallowed hard. This would have to be enough. She was leaving tomorrow. They had one night left together. If they stayed in this apartment, she knew she’d begin to question her decision. “Good. I want to leave you wanting more. I’m going to haunt your dreams at night and inhabit your fantasies during the day. I plan to make your life miserable once I’m gone.”

Marcus stared down at her, the smile fading from his face. “You will. I know you will.”

Eden wriggled out from beneath him, uneasy with his shift in mood. “Good. Now get dressed. We’re going out and we are going to dance.”

Marcus rolled over on the bed and covered his face with his hands. “All right,” he said. “But I’m going to have to take a cold shower before we go. And if you do that to me again at the club, I’m going to be forced to drag you into a dark corner and deal with the situation in the proper way.”

“I’m counting on that,” Eden teased.

8

T
HE
DANCE
FLOOR
WAS
crowded,
lights flashing in time with the music and the noise deafening. Marcus held Eden around her waist as they moved. He felt people’s eyes on them, but he took his cue from Eden and pretended he didn’t care.

It was an odd feeling, being the center of attention. Thankfully no one had come up to bother them or ask for Eden’s autograph. The club catered to the wealthy summer crowd in Newport, and the manager had been more than happy to usher Marcus and Eden inside ahead of the rest of the line and provide them with a table in a quiet corner.

A waitress had appeared just moments after they’d sat down with a bottle of Cristal and two champagne flutes. Marcus had reached for his wallet, but the waitress had assured him that the bottle was on the house.

Once he got used to the fact that he was drinking two-hundred-dollar champagne as if it was water, Marcus began to enjoy himself. There was an infectious energy in the club that wasn’t present in the establishments he usually visited. Pool and darts were the main activities at his local pub, and that usually involved drunk men and not scores of beautiful gyrating females.

The music began to wind down, and Marcus bent his head and gave Eden a slow kiss. She smiled up at him, slightly tipsy from the champagne they’d drunk. “Isn’t this fun?”

“It is,” Marcus admitted. “Are you getting tired?”

She nodded. “Take me home. I want to tear off your clothes and make crazy love to you for the rest of the night.”

He glanced around. “Let’s go then.” Marcus laced his fingers through hers and led the way to the door, Eden walking behind him as he pushed through the crowd. When they reached the bar, he flagged down their waitress and gave her a generous tip, then continued toward the exit.

Outside, the air was cool, a breeze coming off the ocean. Marcus wove through the small group still waiting to get inside, and Eden held on to his arm, leaning into him. Everyone stared, but Marcus pasted a smile on his face and nodded at people as he passed.

“Hey, Eden Ross! It’s Eden Ross!”

The guy came out of nowhere, his video camera clutched in his hand. At first, Marcus didn’t understand what he was saying. But then Eden’s fingers tightened on his arm, digging into his biceps. She stepped behind him again, hiding from the curious looks of the crowd.

Marcus held out his hand to warn the guy off, but he continued to approach, staggering as though he’d had too much to drink.

The video camera focused on Marcus now, and Marcus quickly moved his hand in front of the lens. “Hey, buddy, just turn that thing off. We don’t want our picture taken, all right?”

“Jus’ lemme get a picture of her. Who gives a rat’s ass about you?”

Marcus cursed as the man tried to muscle his way past him. He grabbed his arm and gave it a yank, but the guy turned on him, swinging with his free hand. Eden screamed and scampered back, but Marcus had no intention of running from this fight.

“Hey, Eden, is this your new man?” the drunk asked. “Why don’t you both just do it right here on the sidewalk and I’ll tape it? We can all make a million.”

Marcus wasn’t sure what happened next, only that it involved pure instinct and no reasoning at all. His fist came up and connected with the drunk’s nose, and the guy staggered, then fell backward onto the pavement. Marcus bent down and grabbed the video camera, searching for a way to extract the tape.

The drunk’s wife started screaming for someone to call an ambulance and the police, and an instant later the bouncer stepped into the fight, grabbing Marcus from behind. The bouncer had at least fifty pounds on him, but Marcus had been schooled in street fighting from an early age. He brought his heel down on the bouncer’s instep, and the moment his grip loosened Marcus spun on him.

In one sure movement, he tossed the video camera to Eden, then gave the bouncer a swift uppercut to the chin. The punch had little effect beyond a momentary stun, and the bouncer returned with a cross that grazed Marcus’s eye.

Marcus noticed the drunk stumbling to his feet and decided that retreat was in order. He wasn’t about to fight them both. He held up his hands as if to surrender, and when the bouncer lowered his fists, Marcus took off. He grabbed Eden’s hand and pulled her across the street. “We have to get out of here,” he shouted. “Right now.”

The crowd surged toward them as if to get a better look at Eden. But Marcus knew the streets of Newport well enough to make a quick escape. They ducked down a side street, then cut back through an alley. Eden was slowed by the sexy shoes she’d decided to wear, but they managed to reach Marcus’s truck in less than a minute. Marcus helped Eden inside, then grabbed a baseball cap from behind the seat and put it on his head. He hopped in the driver’s side and placed his hand on Eden’s shoulder. “Get down,” he ordered.

Eden did as she was told and they wound through the back streets until they were well away from downtown. “That was a mess,” Marcus muttered, steering the car toward the Newport Bridge.

Eden sat up and stared out the rear window. “I’m sorry.”

He glanced in the rearview mirror. “I don’t think they’re following us.”

“Who?”

“The photographers,” he said. “The guy with the video camera.”

“He wasn’t a photographer,” she said. “I think he was just a tourist. Usually the tabloid photographers wear credentials. That way, they don’t get beat up.”

Marcus cursed beneath his breath. “Great. I just assaulted some poor git from upstate New Hampshire just to protect your honor.”

“You really hit him hard,” she said. Eden held up the video camera he’d tossed to her during the fight. “And you stole his camera.”

“Me? You stole it. I just wanted you to get the tape out. This is why I didn’t want to go to that club. I warned you.”

“Why are you so upset? I go through this all the time. Everywhere I go there are people taking my picture and shouting questions at me. You just have to ignore them.”

“I don’t need my picture taken,” he said.

“Why? Are you ashamed to be seen with me?” Eden asked.

Marcus stared out the windshield at the late-night traffic over the bridge. “Don’t be ridiculous. We went out, didn’t we?”

“Then what’s the problem? I thought we were having fun. Don’t let some tourist with a camera ruin our whole night.”

“I just can’t stand by while some idiot insults you. Did you hear what he said?”

Eden sank back down in the seat, her arms crossed over her chest. “Of course I did. But I didn’t let it get to me. He was drunk, and a lot of people think celebrities are fair game. I’ve just learned to let it roll off my back, Marcus. He doesn’t make a difference to me.”

“Then who does?”

“You do,” Eden snapped. “My mother and father do, to some extent, although that can be hit-and-miss at times. Some of my friends—but not many. And Sarah, my father’s housekeeper, and Maria. And that’s about it. Oh, and your mother. I hope that she has a good opinion of me.”

Marcus glanced over his shoulder as they turned onto the bridge. “I don’t want to provide amusement for some lady waiting on line at the grocery store.”

They drove the rest of the way to Marcus’s place in silence. He wasn’t angry, just frustrated. He and Eden were like a runaway train, heading for the end of their relationship at top speed, and there was nothing he could do about it. At this rate, there was destined to be a huge crash with at least one casualty—him.

In the past, he’d never given a second thought to breakups. In most cases, he was glad to be free of the responsibility for some woman’s happiness. But with Eden, he was loath to face the inevitable.

He craved the feel of her naked body against his, the sensation of sinking into her moist heat and the act of bringing them both to a mindless ecstasy. It wasn’t just the sex. He loved spending time with her. He loved falling asleep with her in his arms and waking up to her sweet smile. He loved her.

He glanced over at her and fought the urge to reach out and touch her. Maybe it was better this way. This incident just proved that he couldn’t live in her world, and she wasn’t willing to give up her world to live in his.

“You’re all right?” he asked.

Eden nodded. “I’m fine.” She glanced over at him and forced a smile. “Thanks for standing up for me. Nobody’s ever done that before.”

“No problem.”

* * *

E
DEN
STOOD
IN
FRONT
of the kitchen sink and filled a glass with water. Marcus watched her from his spot on the sofa. Since they’d returned home, she’d been curiously silent.

He shouldn’t have reacted the way he had, blaming her for what had happened. But how could she expect him to understand or to tolerate behavior that she’d grown immune to? From the start Marcus had protected her, and he wasn’t about to stop now.

She had no more control over the situation than he had. Well, maybe a little control. If she hadn’t made that video, then the drunk with the camera probably would have had to find some other insult to hurl at her. And perhaps Marcus could have tolerated a different one.

Eden sat down at the end of the counter and picked up the camera, fiddling with the buttons until she’d managed to rewind the tape. She walked out of the kitchen, her gaze on the view screen, filming her surroundings as she went.

When she reached the sofa, she turned the camera on Marcus. “Smile,” she said.

He held his hand up in front of the lens. “Stop.”

“Why?”

“You got in enough trouble the last time you appeared on video. And I’ve had enough of cameras for one night.”

“Come on, don’t be so depressing,” Eden said with a pout. “I don’t want to spend our last night together all gloomy and doomy. Smile.”

Marcus shook his head and covered his face with his hands. “Go away, Eden.”

“I’ve got an idea. We’ll just make a little video of our last night together and then you’ll have something to remember me by.”

“I’m not going to play this game with you.”

She pried his hands away from his eyes and trained the camera at his face, standing above him. “Tell me. What did you think the first time you saw Eden Ross?”

“Nice ass,” he muttered. “Naked girl. Big trouble.”

“And what about later?” she continued. “Did you want to touch me?”

The answer was obvious. From the moment he’d met her he’d thought of nothing else. “No,” he lied.

“I don’t believe you,” Eden said, peeking out from behind the camera. “Take your shirt off.”

Marcus refused, but Eden wasn’t about to be deterred. “Then you hold it,” she said, handing him the camera, “and I’ll take my clothes off.” She pointed to the miniature screen on the back. “Just watch me through that and try not to jiggle the camera.”

Marcus grudgingly pointed the camera at Eden. She reached down for the hem of her dress and slowly drew it up over her head. She wasn’t wearing a bra and had chosen a sexy black thong as her only underwear. She let her hands drift up her torso and over her breasts, then brushed her hair away from her face, playing to the camera and to the man behind it. She was deliberately tempting him, and Marcus was loath to admit that it was working.

Eden slowly walked up to him and took the camera, then pulled him to his feet. “Your turn,” she said, dragging him toward the bed.

“Why are we doing this?” Marcus asked as he unbuttoned his shirt.

“Have you ever seen yourself make love to a woman?” Eden asked. “Aren’t you curious? Come on, it’s liberating. It’s like having someone else in the room…but not really.”

He’d never refused Eden anything before, at least not sexually. And he was intrigued. She was right—they should spend their last night together doing something more interesting than arguing. But this was just a reminder of a big mistake she’d made in the past. He grabbed the camera and turned it off.

She stared at him, her mouth pressed into a tight line. “It doesn’t have to be awful like the last one,” she murmured. “It can be sexy and wonderful and real. I want you to remember that it was real.”

“Eden, I’m not going to forget you.”

She nodded. “I know. But I want to share this with you. I trust you, Marcus. I know you would never use this to hurt me.”

He drew a deep breath, then handed the camera back to her. “Just promise me we’re going to burn this tape after we watch it,” Marcus said, letting his shirt drop to the floor.

Eden smiled. “No, I’m going to leave it with you as a memento of our time together. Every now and then you can watch it and it will be like I’m here.”

Marcus kicked off his boat shoes, standing in his bare feet. “I don’t think so,” he said. He undid his belt and Eden let the camera drift lower. “It would be a sad substitute for the real thing.”

“Slower,” Eden ordered, kneeling in the center of the bed and tucking her feet beneath her. “Take your time.”

“Are you the director?” he asked.

“For tonight,” she replied.

As he lowered the zipper of his khakis, Marcus was forced to admit that Eden’s little game was a huge turn-on. Undressing had always been a necessary step, but now it was entertainment. His sexual liberation at Eden’s hands had had no limits, and he didn’t want to stop now. “Is that slow enough?”

“Run your hand over your chest,” she said.

Marcus watched her, but Eden wasn’t looking at him. She was looking intently at the screen. If he wanted to seduce her, then he’d be forced to do it through the lens of the video camera. Smiling, he did as she ordered, smoothing his palm over his chest and belly.

When he reached his pants, he slipped his fingertips beneath the waistband of his boxers. He heard Eden take a sharp breath and her eyes went wide. A tiny smile quirked at the corners of her mouth. “That’s very nice,” she said.

Marcus slid his hand downward and was surprised to find that he was already hard. Though he was familiar with the art of pleasuring himself, he’d never done it in front of anyone. But he wasn’t embarrassed to do it for Eden as long as she found it…arousing.

“Touch yourself,” she murmured. “The way that I touch you.”