Emma Darcy: The Secret Baby Revenge

“I was just touching base, Tony, feeling for an opening.”

“Any crack of encouragement?”

“None. But that was only the initial foray.”

“From which you retreated in good order so you could take the fight to her again,” Tony dryly deduced.

Quin smiled at his shrewd reading of the situation. “I do not accept that all is lost.”

“Well, good luck, my friend. Nicole Ashton looks hot but she’s one cool lady.”

Not in bed, Quin thought.

“Ah, here’s Nina and Amber back from the powder room,” Tony announced, looking over Quin’s shoulder and holding out an inviting arm for Nina Salter-Smythe—his current love interest—to be gathered in to his side.

Quin swung around to greet the two women’s return, surreptitiously using the opportunity to glance back to where Nicole was seated, wanting to catch her looking at him, hoping for another chance to prove that her show of disinterest was not sustainable.

She wasn’t there.

His heart thumped with the shock of finding her place vacant.

Had she left the club, intent on doing another runner before he could catch her back?

His gaze jerked to her friends who still occupied the table. Jade Zilic and her partner, Jules, had their heads together as though plotting something. Surely they would have accompanied Nicole out, at least to see her into a taxi, if she had gone.

Quin told himself it didn’t matter, either way.

He had enough information to find her.

WHEN Nicole emerged from the powder room, the dance floor was once again crowded, couples throwing themselves into the cha-cha with much energetic panache. This left an easy passage for her back to the table where Jade and Jules remained seated, watching the action.

“Got to say Quin Sola is a superb dancer,” Jade immediately commented, pointing to where he was partnering the brunette in red from the powder room. “Did you teach him, Nicole?”

She shook her head. “It’s natural to him. He once told me dancing is an expression of life in South America. He grew up with it.”

“Where in South America?” Jules asked, his curiosity piqued.

“I don’t know. He would never say.”

“Ah! A mysterious past,” Jade pounced, waggling her highly mobile eyebrows.

“Whatever…” Nicole waved dismissively. “He became an Australian citizen and left the past in the past. Now why don’t you two go and dance? I’m happy to sit this one out.”

She didn’t want to talk about Quin.

She needed more time alone to think about him.

Jade and Jules obligingly left her to it.

Sexual memories bombarded her mind as she watched him dance, his strong, muscular legs snapping out the cha-cha rhythm, his taut cheeky butt almost mesmerising in its matching action. Quin was a great dancer. Better than Jules. Best on the dance floor, in fact. Best at everything.

Except actually caring about someone, Nicole savagely reminded herself. The trick with Quin was to take what he offered of himself, enjoy it, and not care back. She simply hadn’t been capable of doing that when she’d been with him, caring too much about too many things and losing her own sense of self-worth because he hadn’t responded in kind.

She shouldn’t have measured herself by that.

The fault lay in Quin, not her.

Five years ago it had been a matter of survival to walk away from him and his lack of caring. Now she was facing a different issue of survival, based on the one commodity Quin apparently had in plenty. Since he put a money value on everything, she wondered how much he would give to warm himself at her hearth. Could she steel herself to shut out everything else and put the question to him?

If he said no…well, that was that, nothing lost, nothing gained.

If he said yes…since he’d more or less limited their previous relationship to the bedroom, it seemed logical he’d accept that same limitation again, so there should be no great risk in such an arrangement. In fact, satisfying the desire he was stirring up might do her a power of good. It was Quin who had caused the hole Jade perceived in Nicole’s love life. A short, sharp dose of him might cure the long hangover from having been his possession.

Control was the key.

She had to hold it, not let Quin take it over.

Could she do it?

Could she?

The dance ended.

She watched him escort the brunette in red off the dance floor. Jade and Jules were noisily approaching their table. Bold, enterprising Jade. She wouldn’t think twice about approaching Quin for help if she needed it from him. Striking deals were second nature to her. Seize the day, she’d say. Make it yours.

Nicole rose to her feet, standing firmly on her stiletto heels, moving forward with determined purpose. “I’m going to speak to Quin Sola,” she informed her friends in passing.

Either he caught sight of her approach in some mirrored surface, or his personal antennae picked up her churning chemistry and swung him around to face her, negating any need to break into his social group. She halted a metre away, her mouth tilting into a wry little smile as she tossed at him, “I have a proposition for you, Quin.”

He nodded towards the bar. “Let me buy you a drink.”

The move would ensure some privacy from his companions, which certainly suited Nicole. It would also prolong this encounter which undoubtedly suited him since she’d cut him off earlier tonight. “Thank you. I’d like that,” she replied, her ready agreement bringing a smile of satisfaction to his lips.

He led off without a backward glance at the people he’d been with, instantly making her the exclusive focus of his attention, shepherding her through the crowd without actually touching her—quite a masterful operation with people in front of them moving aside at the commanding wave of his hand or a look into the bullet grey eyes.

The force, Nicole thought. Quin had always had it—the power to draw or repel people at will. It was some form of energy he knew how to exert. Or maybe it was an innate thing in him, a kind of charisma he’d been born with. It made him special, out of the ordinary, and dangerous because it was all too easy to fall under his spell and then you belonged to him.

Even knowing this and being on guard against it, Nicole felt every nerve in her body quivering with excitement at being close to the source of this treacherous power. Locking horns with Quin on any ground was tantamount to playing with fire. But she had learnt lessons from being burnt. Nothing would induce her to let this man take over her life again. She’d go so far with him and no further.

They reached the bar and despite the crush of thirsty people, somehow space was made for them and a waiter was ready to take their order. “Two margaritas,” Quin told him, not offering Nicole any choice, assuming command of the situation as he always had. But it was not going to be all his way this time, Nicole fiercely determined.

She recalled only too sharply that he’d bought them both margaritas on the very first evening they’d spent together. If he thought he could stir some sentimentality with the memory, he could think again. The cocktails were made. Quin handed over some notes and told the waiter to keep the change. Nicole took her glass, not waiting for it to be handed to her.

Quin picked up his and raised it in a toast. “To second meetings. And second thoughts,” he said whimsically, his eyes warmly welcoming her apparent change of mind.

She baulked at entering into any flirtatious banter. Nothing had to be won from Quin. He either went for the deal or he didn’t. “You asked me what would meet my needs,” she reminded him with sharp directness.

“I did,” he agreed, adopting a more attentive expression. “Have you been concocting a list?”