N. Walters - Quinn's Quest

It was intoxicating and totally inappropriate for him to be reacting to her in a sexual way considering the circumstances of their meeting. He shook his head to clear it but couldn’t shake the notion he was about to meet his destiny.

Bethany trembled, but only partially from fear. The rest, she was afraid, was pure unadulterated lust. The man standing in front of her was several inches over six feet. He was lean, but every inch of him was sculpted of hard muscle. His jeans clung to strong thighs and emphasized his trim waist. The short sleeves of his T-shirt fit over his large biceps like a second skin. His blond hair was short and barely skimmed his neck. But it was his eyes that struck her. She recognized those pale blue eyes.

“You have her eyes,” she blurted out.

He moved then. So fast she couldn’t stop herself from taking several steps back. Her foot hit the edge of the sidewalk and she teetered on the edge before regaining her footing. Another step back and she’d be standing in the road. He froze in front of her, his eyes taking her in from head to toe. “Bethany?”

She easily recognized his voice from the phone. This was Quinn Lawton. In person, his voice was even more compelling. She wanted to walk to him, put her cheek against his chest and listen to him talk, feel the vibration against her skin. Must be fatigue making her so loopy. She’d never wanted to do that to any man before. She’d chalk it up to one more strange experience in a long series of them.

Instead, she nodded and held out her hand. “Bethany Morris.”

He wrapped his fingers around hers and led her toward the entrance of a building. She glanced up at the sign and, sure enough, it read Haven . His hand was so much bigger than hers, his skin darker and rougher. Warmer too. His heat soaked into her skin, reminding her just how cold she was.

It struck her all at once that no one knew where she was. She hadn’t told Margaret where she was going. She figured the less information the director had the safer she and the other women at the shelter would be. There was no way to link Bethany with the Angel of Hope Shelter.

Bethany only had Chrissten’s word that her brother was one of the good guys. Once she stepped inside the empty bar and the door closed behind her she’d be completely at his mercy.

As though he sensed her trepidation, Quinn paused and raised her fingers to his mouth. The sight of his lips touching the back of her hand mesmerized her. Heat surged through her body, pooling between her thighs. The cool, crisp air receded and was quickly replaced by a blast of heat.

“I won’t hurt you.” With that promise, he drew her inside and shut the door behind him. The finality of it echoed through her like a shockwave. She had no idea what was ahead of her, but there was no longer any going back.

Quinn was torn between dual desires. He had to find out every scrap of information about his sister and her whereabouts. That need burned in his blood and ripped at his guts. But the woman next to him had started a fire in his soul. He wanted to strip her naked, take her down to the rough wooden floor beneath their feet and make love to her until she clutched at his shoulders and screamed his name in ecstasy. Which was crazy considering she was a complete stranger.

He took another deep breath and almost moaned at the sweet scent that filled his nostrils. Damn, she smelled good. Like honey and violets with a hint of something dark and spicy. He fought the urge to rub his cheek against the top of her hair to see if it was as soft as it looked.

She was about six inches shorter than him, her build slight. Her eyes had flecks of brown and green. Chameleon eyes. They could be either color depending on the light. They were also filled with a wariness that jolted him back to reality. He’d done nothing but stare at her since she’d arrived and that wasn’t going to put her at ease any time soon. It was time to take control of the situation.

“Sit.” He’d pulled several chairs down from off one of the tables and held one of them out for her.

She glanced at him and then at the door before she finally sat and folded her hands in her lap. Her gaze settled behind him and her eyes widened when she realized they weren’t alone. Quinn could feel his brother waiting impatiently for him to get on with things.

“This is my brother, Craig.” His brother inclined his head in greeting, but said nothing, letting Quinn handle the conversation. He got right to the point, which he should have done the moment she stepped out of the cab. “What can you tell us about Chris? When did you see her?”

Bethany licked her lips and Quinn fought back a groan as another wave of lust surged through him. Unacceptable. His body was responding to her proximity in a way that was totally foreign to him. Quinn didn’t like it at all, and that made him snap. “Well?”

She sat back in her chair and cast another nervous gaze toward the door as if gauging how quickly she could escape. He could have told her she was wasting her time. No way was he letting her go until she’d told him everything she knew. Still, he loosened his shoulders and relaxed his hands by his side, doing his best not to appear too intimidating. From the anxious look she shot him, he wasn’t succeeding.

She twisted the edge of her fleece jacket in her fingers and he could sense her trying to order her thoughts. He wanted to shake her and yell at her to hurry. But the mere thought of touching her in anger was totally abhorrent to him.

“It was this morning.” She rubbed her forehead. “No, yesterday morning now. It’s close to dawn, isn’t it? I’m sorry. Time is all confused.”

Craig apparently decided it was time to get in on the action. He pulled out a chair and seated himself next to Bethany. “Tell us what you know. Please.”

Quinn barely suppressed a growl. He didn’t like the fact that Craig was sitting so close to her. What the hell was wrong with him?

Bethany shoved a hand through her tousled brown hair. It shook with fine tremors and Quinn was struck by the need to calm all her fears. The instinct annoyed him. Bethany Morris was nothing to him but a means to an end. She was a link to his sister, nothing more. Even as he thought the words he knew he was lying to himself, which only served to increase his annoyance.

“I was kidnapped a couple of weeks ago.” She glanced at Quinn and he wanted to roar at the fear filling her beautiful hazel eyes. She looked away and continued. “There was another woman there. Chrissten Lawton. Your sister.”

He closed his eyes briefly and said a quick prayer of thanks. “Who had you? Where were you held?” He fired the questions off in rapid succession. He needed answers so he could mount a rescue.

“A scientist. A Doctor Philip Morton.” She shivered and he resisted the urge to pull her into his arms to warm her with his body heat. His cock flexed and pushed against the zipper of his jeans, totally on board with that idea.

“As for where,” she continued. “In another part of the city. Deserted mostly.”

He frowned, his suspicions growing with each passing second. Her story had big enough holes in it to drive a semi through. “How can you not know where? What kind of game are you playing?”

Quinn shoved his chair back and glared down at her. Bethany jumped to her feet and he knew she was going to try to make a run for it. He couldn’t let that happen, and not just because she was the only one with information about his sister. It went deeper than that. She belonged to him, with him.

He grabbed her arm, closing his fingers around it, holding her with little effort. Quinn shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. It wasn’t easy with anger burning his brain, lust tearing at his guts and heat searing his groin. Bethany beat at his chest with her free hand, but he subdued her easily, wrapping his large arms around her.