He frowned. “I don’t know shit about women’s sizes but if bya size twoyou mean skinny like most models, then you’re nuts. Men don’t want that.”
“You can’t say that. You don’t know—”
“Okay, I agree I can’t speak forallmen but I can speak for myself.” He put down the white cardboard Chinese food container and leaned forward putting his face close to hers.
She put her own beef and broccoli down on the table, heart pounding as his gaze locked on hers from just inches away.
“Bailey, I’ve liberated hostages who’d been starved during captivity. Felt their bones jabbing into me as I carried them because they were too weak to walk. They couldn’t help what happened to them, but as for all the women who starve themselves in some quest to be more attractive? I can tell you I personally want someone with a woman’s curves beneath me in my bed.”
His gaze dropped briefly to her mouth and after that speech of his, that was all it took to make her lose all sense of reason. To make her lean forward to close in on Quinn’s mouth.
Eyes wide, he jerked back. “Whoa.”
“Oh my God. I’m so sorry,” she gasped, her heart thundering.
Oh no! What had she done? He hadn’t been talking aboutherbeing under him in his bed. Not at all.
He shook his head. “Don’t apologize. I didn’t mean—”
“No, I know. Of course, you weren’t talking about me. That’s silly. It’s fine. I don’t know what I was thinking.” Jumping up, she pivoted toward the door of her bedroom, calling over her shoulder as she stumbled away, “I’m tired. Going to bed.”
“Bailey, stop. I meant I didn’t mean to pull away. I was just taken aback.”
Quinn’s pursuit was immediate. He reached to grab her but she was just fast enough to slam and lock the bedroom door before he could.
Leaning her forehead against the wood, she said, “Make yourself at home. There’s a spare blanket and pillow inside the ottoman. See you in the morning.”
She’d tried to sound upbeat. What had come out sounded fake. Forced. Over the top in a deranged psycho kind of way.
The ridiculousness of the situation began to creep in on her. She couldn’t stay locked in there all night. The only bathroom was accessed through her bedroom. She’d have to open the door in case Quinn had to use it at some point.
Ugh, she was so stupid.
“Bailey, open this door,” he said.
His voice, even and calm, sounded as if he was pressed right against the other side of the door. Just inches away. That had her pulling back just a bit.
“Bailey, this situation isn’t cut and dry. It’s complicated—”
“I know. I understand,” she answered, again overly brightly.
“No, you don’t. So open this door so I can explain.”
“It’s fine. I’ll see you in the morning,” she said again and realized how dumb it was.
More than the bathroom issue, tomorrow they’d be in the car together for hours. Then there’d be no escaping him or the humiliation of how she’d tried to kiss him and he’d pulled away.
Could she escape out the bedroom window? She clearly had to escape this situation somehow. Possibly even move to another country. London might be nice…
“Bailey, if you don’t unlock this door, I’m going to kick it down. Since I’ve kicked in more than a few doors and know what kind of damage it does, I can tell you that you really will lose that security deposit. So please, open the door.”
He’d reached a level of measured calm that really did remind her of a psycho killer. Much scarier than her previous assessment of her own maniacal bubbling. Her excessive enthusiasm was more comic book villain and far less intense and scary. Nothing like this overly-controlled version of Quinn sounded now.
Believing his threat about kicking in the door, she flipped the lock and then took a big step back as she watched the knob turn.
Quinn opened the door slowly, wide, but he didn’t cross the threshold. He remained standing in the opening, his hands braced on the doorframe. His eyes closed briefly as he took and released a big breath. Then those eyes, like murky green pools filled deep with emotion, raised to focus on her.
“When I tell you it’s complicated, that it’s not you, it’s most definitely me, you think it’s all bullshit,” he began in a firm but gentle tone. “It’s not.”
