Karen Kirst - From Boss to Bridegroom

Memories surged...the roughness with which he’d bound her wrists. His mother would be appalled.

Guilt pricking his conscience, he sobered. “For that, I am truly sorry. My only defense is that I was acting on faulty assumptions. Will you forgive me?”

Some of the starch went out of her. Her lowered eyes tracking the grass-smattered lane beneath her black boots, she nodded. “Maybe you could get someone to take you hiking in the mountains.”

He blinked at the sudden change of topic. “Are you volunteering?”

“Me? No. I don’t have that kind of free time. Caleb knows the high country like the back of his hand. I’m sure he’d be willing to take you.”

From what he’d observed of the couple that morning during church, the man would not willingly leave his expectant wife, not even for a day’s outing. Nevertheless, he said, “Maybe I’ll speak to him about it.”

“What did you do in Boston to stave off the surliness?”

“Are you familiar with the sport of fencing?”

“I have heard of it,” she said drily.

He smiled, silently reminding himself not to assume the locals were cut off from the world. They had access to books and newspapers. And he wasn’t the only out-of-towner to move here. People from all walks of life had passed through the town, carrying with them stories of other places.

“I took up fencing a few years ago. My good friend Oliver and I practiced several times a week, and we entered competitions on a regular basis. That and swimming helped channel my energy. I enjoy people-watching, too, so I often strolled the city streets.”

Not only did he miss the competitions, he missed his outgoing, boisterous friend. As soon as he was settled, he’d extend an invitation. Always up for an adventure, Oliver was one of a handful of people who’d approved of Quinn’s plans. Since he wasn’t engaged or married, an extended trip to Tennessee wasn’t out of the question.

Nicole batted away a fly, nose wrinkling adorably. One look at the raven-haired beauty, and his friend would be instantly smitten. He wondered what his assistant would think of Oliver.

An uncomfortable feeling slid into his chest. The heat was suddenly too much. Shrugging out of his coat, he slung it over his shoulder.

“You never told me why you left a city full of unlimited opportunities to start over in our unremarkable town.”

“It’s not easy to explain.” He began walking again, and she fell into step beside him. “My family has been blessed. My great-grandfather Edward Darling founded Darling Industries, and it’s grown into a prosperous empire, for lack of a better word. We provide solid employment for a vast number of people. We’re in the position to fund many charitable works. That part of our life I am proud of. However, one doesn’t hold that particular position in society without having certain social responsibilities, ones I have grown exceedingly tired of in recent years.”

“You were required to entertain them?”

“According to my father, we have to coddle our current business partners and woo new ones in order to maintain our current level of success.”

Her gaze abandoned a bird’s nest in a nearby tree and fastened onto him. “What do you have against parties?”

He kicked up a shoulder. “I enjoy music and dancing and excellent food. I guess what bothers me is the shallow nature of it all. We weren’t vacationing with these people because they were family or close friends. It was for the sole purpose of insuring their continued support. I began to crave genuine relationships.”

Quinn thought of his last disappointment—Helene and the conversation he’d overheard between her and her friends—and how it had confirmed that a life of social climbing, the relentless pursuit of increased wealth, was not for him. “More than that, I needed to prove to myself that I could make it on my own. That I could accomplish something worthwhile apart from Darling Industries.”

“How did your parents take the news?”

Kneading the back of his neck, he winced. “I didn’t exactly prepare them. I waited until after I had already purchased the store.”

Dark brows lifted until hidden beneath the side sweep of her hair. “So it would be too late for them to try and talk you out of it?”

Perceptive went onto the list. “Partly, yes. I also acted quickly in order not to lose the opportunity. My father, especially, was blown away by my decision. Unlike my mother, he hadn’t seen the signs of my dissatisfaction. I suspect he thinks I will tire of small-town life and return within six months’ time.”

Her brow creased, and she would’ve spoken if a bundle of reddish-brown fur hadn’t ambushed her ankles.

He put a hand out. “Careful—”

“It’s all right. He’s a friend of mine.” Humor laced her voice as she bent and scooped up the wriggling dog.

Quinn watched, fascinated, as Nicole’s reserve melted away. Unmindful of her outfit, she snuggled the animal close to her chest, laughter as light as tinkling glass hovering in the still air as the dog attempted to lick her face. Without the armor in place, her radiance shone like rays piercing the clouds, her loveliness making his heart thump and his stomach twist uncomfortably.

Who was the real Nicole O’Malley? The lethal attacker with the killer aim? The distant duchess capable of giving a man frostbite with a single glare? Or the warm, alluring woman with soft eyes and a smile that promised dreams-come-true?

Quinn drew closer and, after letting the dog sniff his fingers, buried them in the thick fur. His scrutiny wasn’t on the dog, however. It was on Nicole’s face, waiting for—and dreading?—the inevitable change.

“What’s his name?”

“Cinnamon.”

He’d noticed her extra attention to Caleb’s horses yesterday morning. “You have a soft spot for animals and babies.”

“That’s because they don’t judge.” Twisting slightly, she glanced at the wide clearing that had opened up on their left and extended as far as the eye could see. “He belongs to my aunt and uncle.” In the distance, blue-toned mountains were framed against cerulean sky. A two-story cabin sat right in the center, surrounded by a large barn and outbuildings. Another, smaller cabin was tucked against the far left tree line. “Caleb and Rebecca live in the small one, and Uncle Sam and Aunt Mary have the large house. Rebecca’s younger sister, Amy, stays there with them. Josh and his wife, Kate, have a cabin behind the main house. Their property adjoins ours.”

“Family members that are also neighbors. That’s convenient.”

The guardedness rushed back, and he wondered at it.

“It can be.” With a brief kiss to Cinnamon’s head, she set him on the ground and watched pensively as he raced across the grass, diverted by a flitting butterfly.

At the decided lack of enthusiasm, he made to question her, but she headed him off. “We shouldn’t linger. Jane will worry the food might get cold.”

Quinn fell into step beside her, glad of the interruption. Her personal life was none of his business. In fact, he should probably limit spending time with her outside of the store. Maintaining a civil working relationship was paramount to success. Failure was not an outcome he was willing to explore.

* * *

Nicole watched as Quinn effortlessly charmed her mother and sisters. Seated diagonally from her at the head of the table, he answered their incessant questions with practiced ease, completely at home in their humble cabin in spite of the air of old-money clinging to him.

The black pin-striped suit coat, which he’d slipped into once again before entering their home, molded to the wide span of his shoulders like a second skin. He must have a personal tailor. He’d slipped the buttons free before easing his lean body into the scuffed wooden chair, giving her a glimpse of the silver-filigreed vest and crisp white shirt underneath hugging his torso.