offered Laura a supportive smile as he stepped past her. ‘Maxine. How are you.…?’
Laura looked on, wondering if she would ever be a part of this family. It occurred to her that they had no reason to accept her, ever. Even if, having heard the truth, they accepted it, they need not welcome her with open arms. She was nothing to them. They might always feel the way they did now. It was a sobering thought.
‘Here. Take this.’ Quinn suddenly appeared before her, and the husky-voiced command sent those by now familiar shivers down her spine.
She glanced from the cut glass full of golden liquid up into his face. Her eyes lingered on his disturbingly sensual lips. He really did have a beautiful mouth. She could envisage it seeking out tender skin, burning it with the intensity of his passion. It would be insistent, and…What in the world was she doing? Good God, was she insane? she groaned silently. She absolutely did not want to think those things about this abominable man!
‘What’s in it? Poison?’ she quipped facetiously.
A hint of a smile curved his lips. ‘I couldn’t find any at such short notice. It’s only brandy.’
She eyed him askance. ‘Hmm. Do I believe you? You wouldn’t care to taste it first?’
One eyebrow quirked at her. ‘You could try trusting me,’ he said, but sipped at the liquid all the same. ‘Satisfied?’ he asked softly, fixing her eyes with his as he held the glass out to her.
Her nerves gave a violent jolt. Surely she had imagined that that perfectly simple question had been laced with sexual connotations? Imagination or not, her senses were reacting in a way which had nothing to do with brandy and glasses, and everything to do with his closeness. She could smell him on every intake of breath. The spicy scent of his cologne tantalised her, whilst the heat of him seared her even though they did not touch. It made her aware of herself in a way she never had been before. Her senses were sharper, more perceptive. They made her want things that were downright dangerous. Like Quinn.
She was mad. Wanting Quinn Mannion was the height of insanity. He despised her, and she positively loathed him. Her brain knew it, so why didn’t her senses follow suit?
She didn’t know the answer, but suddenly she really needed that drink.
Inwardly she cursed the way her hand carried the faintest tremor as she reached out to take the glass. All would have been well even so, had not Quinn’s fingers brushed against hers as she grasped it. Just like before, a tongue of flame went shooting up her arm. She gasped, her reaction instinctive. She jerked her hand away, and the glass wobbled precariously before tumbling to the carpet.
‘Oh, no!’ Laura exclaimed, watching the liquid run out. Fortunately the glass hadn’t broken, but the contents were soaking in rapidly.
‘I’ll get a cloth,’ Caroline declared with the practicality of a woman used to spills and the various other mishaps brought about by two lively youngsters.
Other reactions were predictably less constructive and more critical.
‘It was her fault,’ Stella accused, glaring at Laura. ‘I saw it myself. You deliberately took your hand away just as Quinn was giving you that glass!’
Already unsettled by the accident, Laura lost her cool and took umbrage at that. ‘Now just a minute—’ she began, but Quinn interrupted her before she could get into a good flow.
‘Don’t be ridiculous, Stella,’ he snapped impatiently.
‘It was an accident. There’s no need to make a federal case out of it,’ he added shortly, and the younger woman bristled with affront.
‘How can you possibly defend her?’ she gasped, and Laura’s eyes took on a dangerous glint.
‘I don’t need defending by anyone,’ she pronounced firmly, and received a quelling look from the man at her side.
‘Stay out of this, Laura,’ Quinn ordered, and her lips tightened in annoyance. ‘You’ve done quite enough for one evening,’ he added tautly, and she drew in a furious breath. However, before she could utter a word, Caroline returned with various cloths, and Quinn pulled her out of the way.
To all intents and purposes they were now separated from the rest of the room. Uncomfortably aware of the sense of isolation, Laura folded her arms in front of her and glared at him balefully.
‘What do you mean, I’ve done enough?’
‘Trouble just naturally follows you around, doesn’t it?’ he jibed, setting her teeth on edge.
‘What exactly are you accusing me of now?’ she demanded to know.
‘You have this unbelievable talent for picking fights with everyone in the room,’ he denounced her, and she caught back her first sharp retort in favour of something more taunting. Her eyes glittered as her chin went up.
‘Were you impressed?’
Those blue eyes sharpened intently. ‘Did you expect me to be?’
Laura gave an offhand shrug. ‘No, which was just as well, as I would have been disappointed. Not much impresses you, does it, Quinn?’
‘I would be impressed by your sensitivity if you decided to leave,’ he told her coolly, and she laughed in spite of herself. He was persistent.
‘It appears we’re both to be doomed to disappointment,’ she sighed elaborately, watching Caroline climb to her feet. ‘Will it be stained?’ she asked in genuine concern.
Caroline brushed her hair from her forehead with the back of her hand, and puffed out a breath. ‘It’s hard to say. I suggest you have it professionally cleaned after the holiday, Maxine.’
‘Naturally I shall get it done,’ Laura insisted, for it was her fault the carpet was stained in the first place.
Across the room, Stella laughed scornfully. ‘Oh really! You may have walked off with a chunk of the family fortune, but you can have no idea of the value of that carpet. You’ll get Joe Smith to do it and ruin it!’
In her unsettled state, that was one insult too many for Laura. She counted to ten before losing her temper. ‘You really shouldn’t make those sort of value judgements, Stella. You don’t have the brain power for it!’ she returned caustically, drawing a collective breath from most of the adults in the room.
‘Of all the nerve!’ Philip exclaimed, shooting to his feet in defence of his sister.
‘Mother, we cannot put up with this!’ Stella cried at the same time as Laura felt a strong hand close about her upper arm.
‘I think you’ve said just about enough,’ Quinn warned sibilantly.
‘On the contrary, I’m just getting started,’ she countered, trying to shake him off but failing miserably.
‘Back off, before I get nasty,’ he cautioned just loud enough for her to hear.
‘Nasty? You’re already breaking my arm,’ she complained, turning her head and finding herself looking straight into his eyes. Her lips tightened at the mockery she found there. Her efforts
