The Mighty Quinns: Marcus, Ian & Declan: The Mighty Quinns: Marcus / The Mighty Quinns: Ian / The Mighty Quinns: Declan

5

MARCUS STARED AT HIS watch, then looked out across the water at Victorious. Midnight. And Eden was gone. Marcus had returned to the boat five hours before, fully expecting her to be waiting for him, ready to smooth over the rift between them. But when he’d climbed on board, he’d found the boat silent and empty.

He stood on the end of the dock, his arms braced on a piling, feeling helpless to do anything but curse himself for driving her away. Hell, Eden could be on a plane back to Europe at this very moment, ready to return to the glamorous life she’d left behind. Or she could be checking into a luxury hotel in New York City. Or she could be sitting in a coffee shop in downtown Newport. Even if he wanted to find her, it was impossible.

He sat on a nearby bench and stretched his legs out in front of him, tipping his head back to look up into the starry sky. Inhaling a deep breath of the damp night air, Marcus tried to put order to his thoughts. Where would she go? She’d been determined to avoid her father, so maybe she’d returned to California, to her mother. Or she could have called friends.

Wasn’t this how he’d always expected it to end between them? One day Eden would be there, and the next she’d be gone, no explanations, no apologies. Marcus sighed. In truth, he ought to be glad it was finally over. They’d made a quick and clean break. He could go back to his work without having to worry about Eden and the drama that seemed to swirl around her.

Yet he couldn’t help but worry a little. The way Declan talked, there were people out there looking for her—and not just her father. Reporters, photographers, they all wanted a piece of her. He felt as if he were the only one qualified to protect her.

Though she wanted everyone to believe she was tough and resilient, Marcus knew better. He saw something of himself in her bravado. As a kid, he’d covered up his loneliness with a false confidence, hoping that if he appeared to be sure of himself, then others wouldn’t notice that he was a bundle of fears. Eden was lost like that now, trapped by her insecurities and fighting to prove that she was strong enough to survive.

Eden had handled that kind of attention in the past, but she was much more vulnerable now. Could she withstand another onslaught from the press or her father? Or would she capitulate and go back to the life she’d led before? Marcus shook his head and sighed.

He’d come to her rescue, keeping her presence on board Victorious a secret. But she could take care of herself if she had to. She had her father’s money. That kind of money could get her out of almost any mess.

He raked his hands through his hair. So that was it. Eden was gone and Marcus would go back to life as he’d known it. But it would never be the same for him. Marcus couldn’t imagine ever meeting a woman now without comparing her to Eden, without wondering if he’d ever experience such crazy, uninhibited desire again.

His cell phone rang and Marcus reached inside his pocket and pulled it out. He glanced at the caller ID—the Sandpiper Motel. Frowning, Marcus flipped open the phone and held it to his ear. “Hello?”

“It’s me.”

Her voice sounded shaky and strained, as though she was on the verge of tears. Marcus sat up straight. “Eden? Are you okay?”

“Can you come?”

“Are you at a motel?”

“I can’t remember what it’s called. I’m in room five.” “Are you all right? Tell me.” A sob tore from her throat and Marcus winced. “No,” she replied.

“Are you alone?”

“Yes,” she said, her voice now barely audible.

“I’ll be there in twenty minutes, sweetheart. Stay right where you are. Don’t go outside and don’t open the door to anyone but me. And if anyone tries to get in, then you call the police or 911, all right?”

“O-okay.” She hung up the phone and Marcus jumped to his feet. His mind raced with all the possibilities. Had she been hurt? Was she being threatened? Obviously something had happened to upset her, but what? Hell, maybe she’d called her father and it hadn’t gone well.

As he sped along Ocean Avenue toward Newport, he felt oddly relieved. She wasn’t gone yet. And when she needed help, she hadn’t hesitated to call him. Marcus grabbed his phone again, ready to ask for Ian’s help. But then he thought better of it. If he told Ian about Eden, then Ian would feel compelled to tell Dec, and Dec would have to tell Ross.

The fifteen-minute drive across the bay to Bonnett Harbor was accomplished in ten minutes, and by the time Marcus pulled the truck up to the front of the Sandpiper Motel he was determined to grab Eden and take her back to the safety of the boat.

He jumped out of the truck and found the door to room five. Marcus knocked softly, and a moment later the door opened a crack in front of him. Eden peered out, then stepped back as she let him enter. She closed the door and stood against it, dressed only in her panties and a bra, a towel wrapped around her head. Marcus strode into the room and glanced around, but Eden was alone.

“Thank you for coming,” she murmured.

He faced her, his heart twisting at her tear-stained cheeks. Marcus held out his arms and Eden crossed the room and stepped into his embrace. “Are you all right?” he asked, his hands smoothing over her narrow shoulders to rest at the small of her back.

God, it felt good to touch her again, to feel her warm body beneath his hands. He’d grown accustomed to touching her whenever the whim struck and he didn’t like doing without.

“It’s stupid,” she said, burying her face in his chest.

“What? Tell me. I’ll make it all right,” Marcus said. “I swear I will.”

“You can’t.”

He drew back and cupped her face in his hands. “I can try. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Eden wiped her nose on the back of her hand and drew a ragged breath. “It’s green,” she murmured.

“What’s green?”

Eden reached up and brushed the towel off her head. “My hair.”

A laugh slipped from his throat, and the moment it did Marcus wished he could take it back. This was one of those times when honesty was probably not the best policy.

Eden’s expression crumpled into tears and she ran to the bed and threw herself face-first onto the mattress. “I know! It looks ridiculous. I wanted to dye my hair so people wouldn’t notice me. I might as well have a neon sign attached to my head now.”

Marcus sat down on the bed and gently turned her over to face him. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t laughing at your hair. It was just a laugh of relief. I thought you were hurt or in trouble.”

She plucked at her hair. “What do you think this is?”

“Jaysus, Eden. You scared me. I thought … well, you don’t want to know what went through my mind. I’m just glad you’re all right.”

“But I’m not all right,” she said. “Look at my hair.”

God, even with the green hair she looked beautiful. How was that possible? “Well … it’s green. How did that happen?”

“I don’t know. The box said medium brown and it came out green. I should sue. This isn’t even close to medium brown.”

“Why did you dye your hair?”

“It’s part of my plan,” Eden said. She gave him a narrow-eyed glare. “This is all your fault, you know. You told me I needed a plan, and I made a plan and now look at me.”

“Unless that plan includes clown college, then I’m not sure what you’re going to do with green hair.”

She gasped, but then a reluctant smile twitched at the corners of her mouth. Marcus reached out and tipped her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry about what I said on the boat.” He couldn’t wait any longer and he covered her mouth with his, desperate to taste her again.

With a groan, she threw her arms around his neck and pulled him down on top of her. Her tongue met his, the kiss deepening until Marcus felt a pleasant warmth seep through his body. When he finally had a chance to take a breath, he gazed down into her eyes, fingering a curl at her temple. “It’s not that bad,” he said. “It’s not like it’s bright green.”

“What is it then?” she asked.

“Avocado?” he ventured.

She wrapped her legs around his waist, then turned him over until she straddled him on the bed. “Tell me it’s pretty,” Eden demanded. “Tell me I’m beautiful.”

Marcus stared up at her as he ran his hands up her rib cage and cupped her breasts. “You know you are,” he whispered, slipping his fingers beneath her bra.

Eden reached back and unhooked it, letting the lacy scrap drop between them. Marcus couldn’t keep from touching her. His thumbs lazily teased at her nipples.

“Say it,” she ordered, closing her eyes.

“You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen,” Marcus admitted. Even with her damp hair an odd shade of green it was the truth. There was no one in the world more beautiful than Eden.

Marcus shifted beneath her, slowly growing hard with each passing second. It never took much for her to arouse him, he mused. Eden noticed his discomfort and pressed her hips against his. “Do you still want me?” she asked, rubbing against him, the answer evident to both of them.

“I always want you,” Marcus murmured.

A satisfied smile curved the corners of her mouth and she stopped moving. “I believe you,” she said as if his answer were some sort of test. With that, Eden rolled off him and stood beside the bed, staring at herself in the mirror above the dresser.

Marcus closed his eyes and fought back a wave of desire, willing his erection to subside. “Do you want to tell me about your plan?” he asked, grimacing as he rolled over onto his stomach.

She smiled as she continued to stare at her reflection. “I hadn’t considered clown college, but that’s not a bad idea.”

“And I’m sorry I made light of this very serious situation. Now tell me.”

“I thought it might be easier to blend in if I changed my looks. So I decided to dye and cut my hair.”

She ought to have known it was an impossible task. Even with mousy brown hair and everyday clothes Eden Ross would still cause a stir wherever she went. It was all in the way she carried herself, as if she expected to be the center of everyone’s universe. “And why would you want to blend in?” he asked.

Eden sat down beside him, tucked her knees up beneath her chin and wrapped her arms around her legs. “You’ll think it’s silly.”

“Nothing would surprise me,” Marcus said.

“I don’t want to be Eden Ross anymore. If I don’t look like me, then I can be anyone I want. Madonna reinvents herself all the time. I can be just a regular person.”

“Eden, you’re not a regular person. Like it or not, you’re a celebrity.”

“But I could be a regular person. I could get a job and a place to live and do something interesting with my life. But only if you help me.” She took his hand and clutched it to her chest. “You have to help me. Besides, I can’t leave Newport yet.”

“You can’t?”

“Because we’re not done.”

Marcus ran his hand along her arm, chuckling softly. Though the attraction between them had been there all along, this was the first time Eden had ever admitted that she didn’t want it to end. He leaned forward and kissed her breast, his tongue tracing the outline of her nipple. “I’m not finished with you, either.”

Eden jumped up from the bed and hurried to the window, peering out from behind the curtains. “We have to figure out how to get out of here,” she said.

Marcus leaned back on the bed, linking his arms behind his head. “There’s always the door.”

She turned and shook her head, the damp green curls tumbling around her face. “There are photographers out there.”

Frowning, Marcus rolled off the bed and hurried to her side. “Where?”

“The dark sedan with the tinted windows. They showed up about a half hour after I did. I thought the clerk recognized me.”

“And they saw me come in?” Marcus asked.

“They probably have a nice photo of you. But it does them no good if I’m not in it, too. You’re just an ordinary Joe going into a motel room. Not very interesting. So we’re probably safe so far.” She glanced up at him. “If they catch us, you’ll be a celebrity, too. Eden Ross’s new boy toy.” She giggled. “I’m not sure you’d appreciate the publicity.”

“So what do we do?” Marcus asked.

“Oh, that’s easy.” She walked over to the phone and picked it up. “First, I dial 911.” She paused, then spoke into the phone. “Hello. Yes. I’m staying at the.” She looked over to Marcus.

“Sandpiper,” he said.

“Sandpiper Motel. There’s a dark sedan parked on the street in front of the motel, and I think the man inside is planning to steal a car. He’s been looking at a Mercedes convertible in the motel lot.”

Marcus frowned. “This is against the law,” he whispered. “Reporting a false emergency.”

Eden put her hand over the phone. “They’re harassing me. That’s against the law, too.” She pulled her hand away. “Yes. I’m in room twelve. My name is Eugenia Montevecchio. Yes, I’ll wait right here. Please hurry. I think he might have a gun.”

Eden hung up the phone and grinned. “Now we just have to wait until the police arrive, and once the photographers are occupied, we sneak out. We’ll have to take your car, though.”

“Great plan, unless we get arrested for falsely reporting a crime.” Ian would not be pleased. “And who the hell is Eugenia Montevecchio?”

“My alias. I’m also Liselotte Bunderstrassen and Carmella Ramirez della Fuego. So where should we go? We could go to New York. My hairdresser is there and he could fix the mess I made.”

Marcus shook his head. “I have to work, Eden. And why waste money on a hotel when you can stay on the boat for free?”

Eden shook her head. “No. I’m done with anything that has to do with my father. If he’s going to disown me, then I should begin dealing with it right now. Once I’m rid of his car, there’s nothing more connecting us.”

“Except the money.”

She drew a deep breath. “I have just enough left in my trust fund to start all over, to find a place to live and to buy a car. I just have to find a job.”

“And what will you do?” Marcus asked.

She shrugged. “I’ll figure that out later. For now, we need to worry about getting out of here without being photographed or arrested. Are you going to help me with that?”

Marcus nodded. Strange how easy it was to get swept up in one of Eden’s little adventures. And he wasn’t even considering the consequences. If Ian ever discovered Marcus’s complicity in this, he wouldn’t think twice about tossing them both in jail. And once Ian was done with him, Dec would have a few things to say. “Get your things together,” he said. “I know the police chief in this town, and his guys are pretty quick to respond.”

“HOW LONG IS IT SUPPOSED to take?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus said. “Read the directions.” He crinkled his nose. “This stuff really stinks. And I don’t like these damn gloves.”

“You can’t use your bare hands,” Eden said. “The dye would burn them.”

Eden sat perched on the toilet in the glass-block bathroom of Marcus’s loft, her body wrapped in a towel, her head covered with hair dye. They’d made an easy escape from the motel last night and were now comfortably settled at his place.

Eden wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t this. From the outside, the two-story building looked like a ruin of peeling paint and weathered wood. The clapboard facade overlooked a boatyard cluttered with timber boat cradles and rickety ladders. Wide sliding doors on the first floor opened to a spacious workshop. Half the second floor was a loft apartment with a wall of windows on both sides, overlooking the workshop and the water.

The airy loft had a cozy feel, with timber framing and exposed beams. Marcus had carved the posts with unusual patterns that she recognized as his own art. A galley kitchen lined the wall to the right, and on the left was Marcus’s bedroom with old sails draped down from the beams for privacy. The only walls in the loft were glass block and surrounded the bathroom.

She’d never really thought about Marcus’s life off Victorious. She knew he lived somewhere, but there’d never been much cause to consider where. Now she was forced to acknowledge that there was more to Marcus Quinn than the beautiful body sunning next to her on deck or the soft kisses waking her up from an afternoon nap or the deep blue eyes watching her from across the cockpit. He had a real life, friends and family, a place that he called home.

Eden scanned the directions. “Fifteen minutes,” she said. “How long has it been?”

Marcus held out his arm so she could see his watch. “Ten,” he guessed. “Maybe twelve.”

Eden’s gaze drifted up from the light dusting of hair on his belly to his broad chest. He was barefoot and bare-chested, dressed only in faded jeans that rode low on his hips. She reached out and ran her fingertips over his stomach, and he backed away as if her touch tickled. There were a lot of things she liked about Marcus and his body was near the top of the list.

She’d been with handsome men, but they’d been handsome in a premeditated way. They spent hours on grooming to look perfect—three-hundred-dollar haircuts and weekly manicures, an expensive stylist to choose the perfect clothes. But Marcus was sexy by just being a man. He combed his hair with his hands and wore faded Levi’s because they were comfortable. His smooth skin was tanned from weeks of work in the sun rather than a few days on a Mediterranean beach or a few hours at a tanning salon. There was something to be said for a man who didn’t have to work at looking like a man.

A tiny smiled twitched at the corners of Eden’s mouth as her gaze fixed on the top button of his jeans. She fought the temptation to reach out and unbutton it, to draw the zipper down and expose him to her touch. It wouldn’t take much to make him hard, and after that she could bring him to a climax with her fingers or her lips. Marcus hadn’t ever tried to resist her.

Eden drew a deep breath. Or they could take the last step in their slow journey toward the inevitable. They’d come so close over the past week, but Marcus had always stopped short, as if he were waiting for an invitation to possess her, permission to lose himself in her body.

A tiny thrill raced through her at the thought of opening herself to him, the sensation of feeling him move inside her. She wanted to make love to him, but it also frightened her at the same time. Things were already too perfect with Marcus Quinn.

Searching for a distraction, she reached out and grabbed a bottle of cologne from the back of the toilet, then sniffed at it. “It doesn’t smell like you,” she murmured.

“And what do I smell like?”

Eden shrugged. “Sweat. Sawdust. Seawater. It’s a very intoxicating scent.”

“There are times when I want to smell nice,” Marcus explained. He tossed the plastic bottle from the dye into the wastebasket, then ripped off the gloves.

“When you want to seduce a woman?”

“Maybe,” Marcus admitted. “Don’t you make yourself smell good when you want to be seduced?”

She unscrewed the cap and tipped a bit of the cologne onto her finger, then slowly drew it down along his naked belly, circling his belly button with her fingertip. “Sometimes,” she said, pressing her nose to the spot and inhaling deeply. “How many women have you seduced with this bottle of cologne?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.”

Eden shrugged. “Then show me how you do it. I want to know. Give me all the details.”

Marcus grinned. “You know how I do it, Eden. I’ve spent the last week seducing you.”

“Oh, really? And I thought I was seducing you.”

Marcus chuckled. “Maybe it was a joint effort.”

“But it obviously hasn’t worked,” she said.

“It hasn’t?” Marcus stepped back. “I recall some rather powerful reactions on your part. Were you faking it, Eden?”

She reached out and hooked her finger in the waistband of his jeans, drawing him closer. “I’m just saying that we haven’t done everything possible.” She nuzzled her nose against him, then bit at the fabric of his jeans.

He shook his head slowly. “I could live the rest of my life with you, Eden, and I don’t think we’d ever get to everything possible between a man and a woman.”

“True. We’ve merely scratched the sexual surface, so to speak.” She stood up and nudged Marcus aside, then bent over the sink and began to rinse her hair. “So what are your fantasies? What do you imagine we’ll do next?”

“I was thinking we’d have breakfast,” he said.

Eden stood up, water dripping from her head. Without a thought, she discarded the towel, letting it fall to the floor. Then she reached out and unbuttoned his jeans, slowly drawing the zipper down. “What are you doing?”

“I need your help,” she said. “In the shower. I can’t get this stuff out of my hair.”

Eden turned and stepped inside the shower. She glanced over her shoulder to see him stripping his jeans off, his penis already growing hard. A moment later he joined her, standing behind her as she turned on the water and adjusted the temperature.

Eden moved beneath the water and tipped her head back while Marcus grabbed a bottle of shampoo and squeezed a measure into his hand. Slowly he worked it into her hair, massaging her scalp. Eden closed her eyes and sank back against him, his erection nestling in the small of her back.

She reached around and grabbed his hips, holding him close as she gently rocked against his body. A moment later he turned her around, his arm snaking around her waist as they both stepped beneath the shower. Warm water sluiced between their bodies, making their skin slick and sensitive.