And off-limits!
He spun away. What was he doing, letting his eyes off the leash? Thoughts, desires. So much for cold showers and keeping it in! Why wasn’t his body getting the memo? This was Quinn! They had a job to do together, one they both had to get through to get their respective dues.
Gah! But that was the whole problem right there, wasn’t it? That this was Quinn! Not the cuckoo, not Dad’s pet, but something else now, something wonderful. Every blink, every breath of her a blast. Just being with her...talking to her... God, she’d even got him talking about Mum last night, which he never did, with anyone. Listening so well, giving him something to think about, lifting some weight off his chest just by listening, releasing him, so that now he was walking—dancing—on air. Oh, and maybe letting his eyes roam wasn’t right, but it was only looking, not touching. Only dancing, a bit of fun...
He danced himself back around and started in surprise. There were other people up and dancing with them, going for it! And then Quinn was coming in close, swaying, beaming.
‘See what you started.’
He felt his head shaking, words rising. ‘Not me. You!’
She pulled a confused face then moved back, laughing, reaching up into the air with her hands.
All very well looking confused but it was true. He hadn’t started this. She had. Because he would never have got up with anyone else. It wouldn’t even have crossed his mind to, because he wasn’t the dancing type, especially not in broad daylight with only a small beer inside him! Only with Quinn, because—spinning again, weaving her hands through the air, circling her shoulders—he felt weightless around her, on fire, light and bright as a flame. And now she was turning, flashing a smile into his eyes, and he could feel his heart soaring, leaping and flying, flowing right out...
Right... Out...
Oh, hell!
It couldn’t be, could it? This feeling... Was he somehow falling in love with Quinn Radley?
‘Hey...’ She was moving in again. ‘Where’s your groove gone, mister?’
If only she knew!
And then, mercifully, the catchy track was ending, giving him an out.
‘Song’s finished.’ He shrugged, finding a smile. ‘I’m afraid one dance is all I’ve got.’
Her cheeks dimpled. ‘Well, I’m glad I got to see it, then.’ And then she was giving his shoulder a little nudge, propelling him back to their table through a ripple of applause from the other tables.
He smiled round to acknowledge the crowd. Did he seem normal to them? Or could they see that he was a man reeling? His heart pulsed. Could Quinn?
‘By the way, you’re definitely not an embarrassment on the dance floor.’ Twinkling up at him as he seated her, making his heart flip but also soothing it somehow, settling it back down.
He took his own seat. ‘I hope that’s not compared to your Hoover.’
‘Oh, no! You’re way better than that.’ Her eyes flashed a tease. ‘You’re at least as good as my floor mop.’
‘Nice!’
‘That’s the objective!’
Back to banter. Back to easy flow. Maybe he could just tick along like this. His heart clenched. No choice really. It was way too soon to declare himself, or to even know if these feelings were love feelings or crush feelings. His heart clenched again, tighter. And what about the elephant in the room? He didn’t feel any animosity for Quinn now, couldn’t imagine feeling it ever again, but that gremlin had swooped in once before, hadn’t it, ruining everything. Old sores. Like the one with Mum, hurting on and on. Quinn had said if he didn’t forgive his mum he would never heal, so it followed that if he didn’t somehow come clean to Quinn about her role in his misery, then it could only come back to bite him...
‘We should get back...’ Quinn was spearing the last olive, popping it into her mouth. ‘Miguel will be wondering where we are.’
Miguel. Their smiley tuk-tuk driver, full of mischief and fascinating factoids.
‘You’re right. We’ve been a while...’ He signalled for the bill then remembered something. ‘Hey, Quinn...’
‘What?’ Twinkling gold-brown eyes.
He felt a warm spot pulsing in his heart, a smile unfurling. ‘Thanks for the dance.’
‘Here we are! Miradouro de Santa Luzia!’ Miguel pulled the little vehicle in sharply then shuffled round in his seat to face them. ‘The best place in Lisbon to see the sunset.’ His gaze darted to Will then came back, glinting with mischief. ‘Very romantic!’
For heaven’s sake! He was at it again. Loaded looks, twinkling eyes. Why? Because she and Will had been leaning into each other a lot? Only so they could hear themselves over the road noise! Or was it because Will had handed her out of the vehicle at Belém Tower with an exaggerated gentlemanly flourish? That was just clowning, Will trying to make her laugh. As for the dancing, Miguel couldn’t have seen that unless he’d left the tuk-tuk and walked along the promenade and, in any case, it wasn’t close dancing, nothing he could read into. She felt a flush stirring. Unless he was reading its lingering effects, the tingles she couldn’t stop feeling because of the way Will had been gazing at her, moving his body in sync with hers. A crazy, hazy, über sexy moment! But it was gone now. A bit of fun, that was all.
She aimed a smile into Miguel’s eyes. ‘You are a very bad man! We’ve told you already, we’re just friends, colleagues...’
‘Yes, yes, yes...’ He waved a dismissive hand. ‘But still, it’s romantic. You must go. Enjoy a ginja shot, watch the sunset. I can wait...’
Will leaned forward. ‘But you already waited an hour in Belém.’
‘It’s okay.’ Miguel shrugged, oozing charm like honey. ‘You can give me a very big tip!’ He flashed white teeth. ‘A very big tip always helps.’
Will laughed. ‘Okay, done! A very big tip it is!’ And then he was looking over, his expression slightly baleful but twinkling. ‘Shall we go check out this sunset, then?’
‘Why not...?’ Since Miguel wasn’t giving them a choice anyway.
A few respectful yards from the vehicle Will started chuckling. ‘Miguel’s something else, isn’t he?’ He smiled over. ‘Worth every single euro, though!’
She felt her heart softening. ‘Yes...’
Not just Miguel, though. Will was something else too. Every kind of wonderful. Liam would have been walking through this little park chuntering, not chuckling, feeling manipulated by the Brazilian, not seeing what Will had clearly seen: that Miguel was poor, needed all the tips he could get.
If only Miguel knew that he needn’t have given Will that wily little push because Will was generous, would have tipped him handsomely anyway. All the time, rewarding good service, being subtle about it. Like at that tapas place. Slipping two blue notes under his glass as they got up to leave—more than the bill itself had come to. And yes, he could afford to be generous, but not everyone with money was, unless they were angling for something for themselves. Liam. Roses. Case in point!
