Читать книгу Urgent Vows - Joyce Sullivan - Страница 15

Hope snatched her fingers from Quinn’s arm and stared up at him open-mouthed, not certain she could believe her ears. It was too ludicrous that she could be dumped at the altar by one man and proposed to by another—especially Quinn!—all on the same day, but Quinn’s expression was deadly serious.

“I— I beg your pardon?” she whispered.

“You can marry me. Quent and Carrie named me the children’s legal guardian in their wills. But if a contract is out on my head, I don’t stand much of a chance of being able to fulfill their wishes. I’m a dead man, Hope. I can’t hide out with these kids forever. Every day I stay with them I put them in danger.” He ran a hand over his haggard face. “The very least I can do for Kyle and Melanie is give them a real mother to take care of them if something happens to me.”

She blinked, completely overwhelmed by what he was implying. She didn’t bother to conceal her sarcasm. “That’s why you came here? You want to marry me just like that to give the kids a mother?”

“Yes.” Quinn’s hard, slate gaze held hers and seemed to etch a path into her innermost secret thoughts. As if he knew the hold he’d had over her heart.

Hope wanted to slap him for his audacity, even as she found a kernel of comfort in the knowledge that she was the one he’d come to in his hour of need.

“Surely you don’t have to resort to such a drastic measure,” she said stiffly. “The RCMP must be investigating, they’ll find whoever—”

He cut her off. “I’m not with the RCMP anymore. The Ottawa-Carleton Regional Police are handling the investigation.”

Now Hope was thoroughly confused. Quinn had been completely engrossed in his career with the RCMP when she’d met him at a friend’s wedding. It had been part of his excuse for breaking their engagement. That along with some nonsense about him not wanting her to be constantly worrying about his safety and waiting for him to come home—an issue that had arisen after his father’s sudden death during a reconnaissance mission with the Canadian Forces. “You’re not a police officer?”

His mouth stretched in a wry smile. “My business card says I’m a forensic examiner specializing in counterfeits. I decided to take some of the special skills I learned with the RCMP abroad when a friend of mine, Oliver Wells, turned sixty and retired. Oliver offered me a partnership in a forensic analysis and consultation company. Our company specializes in the prevention and detection of counterfeits and forgeries, which is a long-winded way of saying that we determine the authenticity of currency, checks, credit cards, stock certificates, travel documents. Even university diplomas,” he added. “We travel all over the world. Today’s technology makes it easier for organized crime rings and individuals to commit fraud and most police departments don’t have access to the highly specialized skills and training necessary to conduct these types of investigations. The expertise and skills would only be found at the level of the national police forces in Canada and the United States. European countries turn to Interpol. Our clients are law-enforcement agencies, countries, financial institutions, insurance companies and private businesses.”

Hope bit down hard on her lower lip. She should have known he’d only left the RCMP because he’d found a broader arena in which to court more danger and excitement. What was that compared to a tame life of raising a family? Like father, like son.

“How does my brother-in-law factor into this?”

“He’s my lawyer. He came highly recommended by a friend.” Quinn paused. “I didn’t realize you were any relation until he suggested he had a sister-in-law who might be willing to take on Kyle and Melanie. He didn’t seem to know about our previous relationship so I didn’t bother to enlighten him.”

Hope closed her eyes and felt the hurt rumble from her voice and burrow deep into her chest. “How flattering that you didn’t come up with my name on your own.”

He gripped her shoulders and her eyes fluttered open to meet the uncapped honesty glimmering in the depths of his wintry gaze. Her skin grew sensitized to the heat generated by his touch and the roughened tips of his fingers. Longing unfurled in her like a cluster of spring flowers bursting through a patch of winter ice.

“Frankly, it never occurred to me to seek you out,” he said brusquely. “I thought by now you’d be married with four kids.” She couldn’t move, could barely breathe as he gently extracted a baby’s breath bud from her hair, holding it between his square-tipped fingers. Her heart lifted and contracted as if stretching after a long dormancy, then commenced to beat at an alarming rate. “Tom told me about your fiancé who died. I’m sorry.”

A flush scalded her face. For the life of her she wasn’t going to ask what other information Tom might have confided about her personal life. Had her brother-in-law thought she’d just leap at the invitation to be married? To have an instant family? Her knees threatened to buckle, but pride kept them rigidly locked in place. She pressed her lips closed and counted slowly to ten, trying not to think of Quinn living in her house as her husband. “Aren’t there any other relatives?”

“No. Carrie was an only child. Her mother died last year and her father is in a nursing home. He’s in no shape to take on the responsibility. Unfortunately, there’s no one else. My mother died six years ago.” He released her and shrugged, the muscles bunching and grinding together beneath his gray sweatshirt. “Given the circumstances, Tom told me that the most expedient thing for me to do from a legal standpoint is to marry and appoint my wife the guardian of the children in my will. As the children’s aunt, there’s a much greater chance the court will uphold my wishes because you’re a relative. I know this sounds a little extreme, but I don’t want to take any chances that the kids could end up becoming wards of the Crown.”

This was so absolutely crazy. Hope’s brain scrambled to process all the information he was giving her. Tom had been specializing in family law for a number of years. She had no doubt the advice he’d given Quinn was sound, but a part of her felt she must object on the children’s behalf. “Forgive me for sounding so blunt, but how can you be so sure that your brother and his wife were killed in your place?”

“Quent was a scientist and worked for the Museum of Science and Technology. It’s not exactly an environment that inspires violence. You knew him. You know what kind of person he was. I deal with people every day who’d like to see me take a trip into the hereafter.”

“How do you know it wasn’t a burglary,” she protested. “Or just some deranged person—”

He ran his hand through his hair. “Because the night they were shot, Quent dropped by my office to collect some tickets to a Senators game at the Corel Centre. I believe the hit man was staking out my office and followed him home, thinking he was me. My address isn’t listed in the phone book. Neither was Quent’s.”

Hope nodded and felt her throat constrict with pain for him, for the children, and for Quent and Carrie, who’d had their lives cut short. “I’m so sorry. I sympathize with your situation, but I’m not sure that I can marry you.”

“Are you involved with someone?”

Hope nearly choked. Not as of 7:00 p.m. this evening. “No, it’s not that.”

“Then, what is it?”

She lifted her chin. He was dangling her deepest, darkest desire in front of her with all the scruples of a proverbial devil negotiating the price of a soul. One simple I do and she’d be a mother and Quinn’s wife. “Have you considered that you may not be doing these children any favors by marrying someone when your heart isn’t in it?” She held his gaze. “Maybe you’re wrong about all this, and one day you’ll decide this marriage was a mistake and put these children through the trauma of a divorce.” She couldn’t bring herself to add just as he’d thought their engagement was a mistake, but the words hung in unspoken accusation between them.

His knuckles grazed her jaw. Another touch, another tender, persuasive assault on her senses. His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin that carved a shallow dimple in his left cheek. A very sexy dimple. “Hit men are results-oriented people, Hope, and I’m not willing to take a chance on being wrong. I don’t want you to love me. I don’t deserve it. But Quent married Carrie for life and I wouldn’t dishonor their commitment to each other and what they wanted for their children by offering you less.”

Damn him. She took a silent inventory of his rugged profile and the jagged plates of his muscled chest, her conscience rebelling at the idea of some mercenary killer wanting to destroy him. If he managed to survive, and that sounded like a big if, he’d stay married to her out of guilt. For the children’s sake. But the thought of exchanging vows with him might destroy her. It had taken her years to get over him.

She darted a glance at Kyle and Melanie and her reluctance to agree to this crazy proposal melted in a rush of compassion. Kyle had abandoned his snack and was industriously hammering a block at the play workbench. Melanie was fast asleep at the picnic table, a graham cracker still clutched in her hand. How on earth was she supposed to resist those two darlings? “If I agreed, I’d be putting my life in danger, as well.”

“Yes,” Quinn stated unequivocally. “But Tom and I, my partner Oliver, and my friend, Gord Swenson, plan to exercise every precaution possible to keep our location under wraps. No phone calls that can be traced or tapped, no record on a computer disk. I’m driving a car that belongs to another friend of Gord’s. We don’t even want your family to know.” He paused, his Adam’s apple working in his lean throat. “As soon as the children have bonded with you, I’m going to leave. I have to do whatever I can to help the police determine whoever is responsible for this. I just can’t leave the kids immediately— I’m the only familiar face they have at the moment and I have to think of their needs first.”

And that, Hope realized, was how they were going to get through this. By thinking of the children and putting Kyle’s and Melanie’s needs first. She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed. For an instant he seemed surprised by her touch, then his fingers twined tightly with hers in a bond of shared understanding. Tears gathered in her eyes.

But their joined hands, and the tingling warmth generated by the contact of their palms made her very much aware that marriage had a physical as well as an emotional commitment.

Her cheeks heated. “Just one more question,” she said, determined to make things clear right from the beginning. “Where do you plan on sleeping while you’re here?”

“On the couch, Mrs. McClure. Sex is the last thing on my mind, but we might have to get Tom’s legal opinion on whether or not the marriage needs to be consummated.”

Hope blushed from her toes to her scalp at the idea of asking her brother-in-law such a question.

“Or maybe not.” His fingers tightened a notch around hers, protective and familiar. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?”

She tilted her head back to look up at him and gave him a tremulous smile. “Yes.”

The glow that warmed his eyes created a stirring of response in her belly. Reminded her of a week long ago when being Quinn McClure’s fiancée had brought her such happiness and eventually pain.

“Thank you. You won’t have to worry about money. I’ve got savings, investments, a condo and a business I own half of. Not to mention life insurance and the trust fund Quent and Carrie set up for the kids. It should be enough.”

“I’m not worried. I can manage on my own if need be.”

She saw the tension loosen in the planes of his face. “Carrie would have approved of you. Quent always did.”

Her voice caught in her throat. “I’ll love the children like they’re my own flesh and blood.”

“I know you will.”

“Quinn?”

“Yes?”

“I’m afraid.”

“I know. Me, too.” His arms came around her then, the solid feel of his hard body bittersweet. But Hope nestled her cheek against his breastbone where she could hear the reassuring pound of his heartbeat and hung on tightly. For better or worse. Till death they would part.

SHE’D SAID YES. Relief settled through Quinn as they carried Melanie and Kyle upstairs to the bedrooms that Hope used for the children who occasionally required night care or spent a few days with her when their parents were away on business trips.

Kyle held fast in his arms, Quinn had feelings he’d never expected to have tumble through him as he watched Hope expertly tuck Melanie into a picket-fence bed in a yellow bedroom where butterflies fluttered from one tulip bloom to another on the walls. Observing Hope with Melanie was like being given a glimpse of what could have been. Mel didn’t awaken or utter a peep as Hope moved quietly in the room, closing the blinds, switching on a night light on the dresser. Then she rummaged through Melanie’s bag.

“Is this all you brought?” she whispered, gesturing at the bag.

Quinn nodded. He only had a small bag for each child. “The kids were whisked out of the house pretty fast. Someone else packed their things. I didn’t want to risk returning in case it was under surveillance,” he explained quietly as he cradled Kyle’s head against his chest. He hoped the toddler would doze off in his arms.

“It doesn’t matter. We can buy more clothes and I’ve got toys and books galore.” She gave him a reassuring smile and pulled from the bag a floppyeared bunny, its brown fur noticeably worn, that she tucked into bed with Melanie.

When she moved to put Mel’s clothes in a drawer, Quinn stopped her. “It would be better if you didn’t. We may have to leave in a hurry.”

Hope looked stricken as the meaning of his words seemed to seep into her. Abandoning the bag, she hovered over the slumbering child and ever-so-gently cupped one of Mel’s curls. “Good night, little lamb.”

Quinn turned away. At least something good would come of all this. Hope would have the children she deserved, if not the husband. Quinn had no delusions about what kind of father he’d be, given the chance.

Kyle twisted his head to look up at him, his eyes round and hopeful. “Daddy?”

Quinn gritted his teeth and shook his head. Kyle’s brow wrinkled in confusion. Hope closed the door to Mel’s room and brushed past him, smelling sweet and feminine.

“I put Kyle’s things in the cloud bedroom. I thought he’d like the kites.” Quinn followed her into a blue bedroom sponge-painted with fluffy clouds and brightly colored kites.

But putting Kyle to bed wasn’t as simple as dealing with Mel. After they’d changed him and put him in the crib, he rose to his feet and rattled the bars. “Ma-ma!” Tears glided down his cheeks in rivulets.

Quinn battled his own frayed nerves as he tried to soothe him. Kyle was so agitated his body generated heat like a miniature furnace. “Hey, it’s okay, buddy. Lie down. It’s time to go to sleep.”

“No. I want Mama.” Kyle shook his head miserably.

Quinn felt just as miserable. “He was like this last night, too. He cried for almost two hours before he fell asleep.”

“That’s understandable. He’s too young to comprehend that his parents are gone. He’s going to need a lot of reassurance and we’ll try to stick to his normal bedtime routine as much as possible.”

Being forced to confess that he didn’t know Kyle’s bedtime routine only made Quinn feel worse. How often had he visited his brother since Kyle’s birth? A handful of times?

Hope gave him an encouraging smile. “Don’t worry, Quinn. We can ask Melanie tomorrow. She’ll be able to tell us. Usually it’s a combination of a snack, a bath, a story or songs, a snuggle, that kind of thing. Sometimes they sleep with a special toy or a blanket. Children get very attached to their rituals and need them to settle down. Does Kyle have any special toys or a blanket he sleeps with? I didn’t find anything in his bag.”

Quinn searched his memory as Hope rubbed Kyle’s sturdy back. Strange how such an insignificant thing seemed of such importance when their lives were on the line. “I’m not sure. At one point he had a stuffed monkey he called Bobo or Babbu or something like that, but I don’t know if he still has it.”

Kyle drew a ragged, gulping breath.

“It’s okay, we’ll improvise.”

Quinn watched in gratitude as Hope opened the closet, revealing two rows of stuffed animals. Her face was animated as she told Kyle his crib was a zoo cage and that he could tend three animals in his cage for the night. Kyle’s damp blue eyes widened at the selection.

Hope’s light-hearted, sunny laugh when Kyle rejected a white snow monkey in favor of a pink pig made Quinn feel less as though the world was closing in around him. When Hope told Kyle to settle his animals down for the night and to be very careful not to step on them, the toddler happily lay down and arranged his animals around him. Hope covered them with a blanket.

“Quinn and I will be back in a few minutes, Kyle. Show your animals how to close their eyes.”

At Hope’s signal, Quinn tiptoed out of the room with her and held his breath, waiting for Kyle’s howl of protest at being left alone to begin. It didn’t.

Hope brushed her hands over her hips, a faint rosy hue highlighting her pale complexion. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to change out of these clothes. There’s a fourth bedroom at the end of the hall for you—just make yourself at home. Maybe we can meet downstairs in a few minutes. I imagine there are some things we need to discuss.”

Her apparent nervousness matched his own. “Sure. I’ll stow my gear in the room, but I’ll be sleeping downstairs as a first line of defense in case we have an intruder. I’ll have an alarm system for the house installed tomorrow.”

She opened her mouth as if to argue, but only a long sigh escaped. “Do whatever you think best.” Then she turned and walked away.

While Hope changed, Quinn did a perimeter check of the house to ensure all the doors and windows were locked, and made a mental list of locks he felt needed replacing. No one was going to be able to enter this house without making a lot of noise. He’d get Hope a digital cellular phone, too, in the event someone tried to cut the phone lines, and he’d install a dead bolt lock on her bedroom door. He tried to shake off the fear of leaving the kids and Hope unprotected, telling himself they’d be safer the second he left and made himself a visible target.

Hope came downstairs wearing a pale blue terry bathrobe, the prim bodice and rounded collar of a flower-sprigged flannel nightgown visible underneath. Quinn got the message. Hands off. “I checked on Kyle before I came down. He’s asleep. So, what do we do first?”

Quinn glanced at his watch. It was 10:47 p.m. He was supposed to call Tom at a particular pub at 11:00. “We call Tom to confirm the arrangements. He thought we could be married Monday. He’s booking a ceremony with a nondenominational minister. We just have to show up with a marriage license.”

Hope looked at him as if he was crazy, but her voice remained calm and even. She tried not to remember that once upon a time she’d wanted to be married by her father, who was a minister, in the church she’d been raised in. “Fine. You’ll need to accompany me to city hall to get the marriage license. They’ll need your signature. If we’re lucky, we’ll be able to get the license without an appointment. Do you have a birth certificate or a passport with you?”

Quinn nodded, feeling awkward again. The fact that she knew what needed to be done to obtain a marriage license reminded him of her deceased fiancé and her lost dreams.

“We’ll need to pay the fee in cash. It could take an hour or so to get the license. Do you want to bring the children with us? I have a friend, Jolie, who pinch-hits for me here at the day care when necessary. I could ask her to look after the children.”

“I’d rather bring them with us. I don’t like letting them out of my sight.”

Her golden eyes softened. “Okay. I’ll bring lots of distracting toys.”

Quinn didn’t think Hope needed toys at all. She was a distraction herself. Her voice. Her hair. The soft curves of her body. And especially those eyes…. He reined in his thoughts. He’d be lucky if he lived long enough to say “I do.” And his promise to Tom that Hope wouldn’t get hurt included never touching her in the way a husband is meant to touch a wife.

It wouldn’t be fair to her if he did. She’d already mourned one man she’d intended to marry.

“Will you need Jolie to look after the kids you regularly care for?” Quinn frowned, considering the risks his presence posed to others. Maybe Jolie could look after Hope’s day-care kids at her own home until he was gone. It would be safer that way.

Hope dropped her gaze. “Actually, I’m not working next week. It’s a short work week leading up to Easter because of Good Friday, and most of my parents have Easter Monday off, too, so they’re taking vacation days to give themselves a ten-day break. Which gives me a ten-day break.”

Ten days. It should be enough time for the kids to fall in love with Hope. It had only taken an evening for Quinn to fall in love with her.

He tamped down firmly on that last thought. A trip down memory lane wouldn’t do either of them much good. He needed to stay focused. “That’s one problem solved. I’ll make sure I’m gone before you resume operations.” Creasing open his wallet, he extracted the piece of paper on which Tom had written the phone number for the pub. Then he punched in the number and passed the phone to Hope. “Ask to speak to Tom and say you’re his wife calling.”

Hope felt her hand shake as she gripped the phone. The precautions Quinn was taking—his talk of installing an alarm system, keeping the children within his sight and a bag packed for quick flight, and now, the cloak-and-dagger stuff with the phone—only increased her fears.

What if the hit man somehow learned Tom was assisting Quinn? The thought didn’t bear thinking about.

Hope heard the sound of a guitar and a smatter of applause in the background as her brother-in-law’s whiskey-smooth voice came on the line. “Hi, honey. Did your company arrive?”

“Yes, they’re here.”

“How are the kids?”

She assured him they were fine. “I’m phoning to tell you that Quinn and I have agreed to be married on Monday. We’ll get the license first thing in the morning.”

“You’re a good person. I just hope you won’t get hurt. Our friend strikes me as being a man of his word. I’ll do my best to protect your interests. But we’ll have to keep this news private. I don’t think we should tell your sister or your parents.”

“Our friend mentioned that. I understand.”

“Good. I’ll meet you Monday at one at the minister’s house. Our friend has the address.”

Hope gestured at Quinn to show her the slip of paper the phone number had been written on. Sure enough, there was an address on it, as well. And thank heavens it wasn’t the same renovated church where she’d planned to marry David.

“Fine. I’ve got it, Tom. We’ll be there.”

Hope punched the end conversation button and raised her eyes to meet Quinn’s steady gaze. Her heart twisted painfully at the thought of how brief he’d implied their marriage could be. Her voice trembled. “It’s all set. We’re getting married Monday at one.”

For the sake of those two precious babies sleeping upstairs, Hope prayed this time she’d actually get to exchange vows with the groom.