Quinn pulled in front of the Wilde mansion. He’d been back for two days, and as far as he knew, only two people in town, Zach and Brody, knew he was back. Somehow the gossips of Midnight hadn’t detected his presence. Of course, it helped that he had arrived before dawn the day before yesterday and hadn’t stepped foot off his property since.
It had almost killed him to walk away from Sam. Every day he was gone felt like he’d lost something of himself. And with each phone call, she seemed to be drifting further and further away from him. Most of the time, she gave monosyllabic answers to his questions. Getting her to tell him what was wrong had been impossible. She’d said she understood why he had to leave, but dammit, something was off.
So he’d come back two days ago and had been working night and day since. Grand gestures weren’t his forte and there wasn’t a woman in the world that would call him the least bit romantic. But for Sam, he would try.
He got out of his car and marched up the steps. He almost felt like he was starting all over again, the way he did when he’d first come to Midnight to apologize. Her reception had been cold then. Would he meet with the same resistance?
He rang the doorbell and wasn’t surprised when it was opened immediately by a brilliantly smiling Savannah. He’d figured Zach would probably tell his wife what he and Brody had been helping him with.
“Thank goodness you finally came.”
“What’s wrong? Is Sam okay?”
“Oh, she’s fine physically. And I have a feeling she’ll soon be fine in every other way, too.”
“I hope so.”
“Why don’t you go on up? Her bedroom is on the second floor, the fourth room on the left.”
His heart rate increasing in anticipation, Quinn raced up the stairs. He stopped at Sam’s bedroom door, took a breath, and knocked.
“Come in.”
Opening the door, he stood for a moment and just drank in the sight of her. The panicked feeling he’d been having slowly melted away. Everything was going to be all right.
She was sitting by the window, looking outside. She wore faded jeans, the kind that made her slender, beautiful legs look impossibly long; the deep red of her sweater made him think she was trying to get into the holiday spirit. He hoped to help her with that.
Apparently thinking it was one of her sisters who’d entered, she said, “I think we need to get started on rebuilding the guesthouse. That way I can live there and Bri—”
“But you already have a house here.”
She gasped and turned. “What are you doing here? When did you get back?”
Since it was easier, he answered the second question first. “Day before yesterday, around three in the morning.”
“But why didn’t you tell me you were back?”
“I wanted to surprise you.”
Instead of the brilliant smile he’d hoped for, she gave him one of her solemn, too-serious looks. Something was definitely wrong and it wasn’t just his absence the last few days.
He walked slowly toward her. “What’s wrong? Aren’t you glad to see me?”
“Of course I am. Did you get everything taken care of in Atlanta?”
“Yeah. Charlene’s murder case is officially closed. You don’t have to do more than the statement you gave Zach. That, with the necklace, sealed the deal.”
“I’m glad. And your parents—did you see them?”
“Yes, I saw them.”
Quinn waited for the anger to reappear and was surprised when he felt nothing. The people who had claimed to be his parents were no longer a part of his life. And there was a possibility that Geneva Braddock could be in serious trouble. She swore she had no idea what her son was capable of. That was up to the judicial system. As far as Quinn was concerned, she no longer existed.
“Turns out Geneva’s been sending money to Dalton for years. Even paid for extensive plastic surgery.”
“Why plastic surgery?”
Quinn shrugged. “Everyone believed he was dead. He had a new face, a new identity, so she could pretend he was a new person, too. Most of his surgery took place in Florida.”
“That’s why he had such an extreme reaction when I asked him about spending time in Florida.”
“That’d be my guess.”
Quinn still couldn’t get his head wrapped around the fact that Geneva had hidden from the world that her sick freak of a son was roaming the countryside. Since he had a new identity and a new face, no one could tie him back to the Braddocks of Virginia.
“Dalton was released into his parents’ care when he was seventeen. To avoid the stigma of having a mentally unbalanced son, they claimed he committed suicide. So much better to be the grieving parents of a deceased child than the parents of a live psychopath.”
The memorial, the giant tombstone, the fabricated grief—all had been lies perpetrated by two people who were so fucking selfish and self-absorbed that a taint on their reputation was worse than the knowledge that they’d freed a lunatic.
“Geneva swore that the doctors had him well in line. Dalton had an apartment, a job … just like a regular person. She said she believed he was perfectly sane. That the medications he was on prevented the violent temper tantrums and destructive behavior. About ten months ago, he went off the grid. Didn’t keep his doctor’s appointments and no one knew of his location.” Bitterness entered his voice as he added, “She didn’t know what to do, so she did nothing.”
Sam gasped. “That’s why she called you out of the blue nine months ago.”
“Yeah. She knew Dalton might come looking for me.”
And he had. Problem was, he hadn’t sought Quinn out to reconnect with his older brother. The bastard had only wanted one thing—payback.
“Still don’t know why they never bothered to tell me I was adopted.” He shrugged and added, “Maybe they knew how happy and relieved that would’ve made me.”
“You’d think someone in your town would have figured it out and told you.” She gave him a quick smile, briefly looking like the old Sam. “If you had lived in Midnight, there’d be no way you wouldn’t have known.”
“I’ve missed you.”
“Have you?”
He sat on the window seat, facing her. “Tell me what’s wrong, sweetheart.”
“Nothing.” She turned and looked out the window again.
Quinn blew out a sigh. Maybe she would talk once he got her home. “Are you ready to go?”
“Go where?”
“To our house.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Shouldn’t we—”
She broke off and swallowed a shriek when he stood and gently scooped her into his arms. “What are you doing?”
“I’m taking you home.”
“You can’t just come in and take me like this.”
Loving the sparks he saw spitting from her eyes, he grinned and kept walking. “Oh yeah? Who’s going to stop me?”
Not waiting for a reply, Quinn strode from the room and then down the stairway. A smiling Savannah stood at the front door.
“Savvy, don’t you dare open that door for him. He can’t just come in here and—”
Laughing, Savannah opened the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Sammie.”
“Traitor.”
“Hey, what are sisters for?”
Feeling more confident by the minute, Quinn went down the steps and stopped at his car. He leaned forward and, with less finesse than he would have liked, opened the car door. Mindful of her still-healing injuries, he carefully placed Sam in the passenger seat and buckled her seat belt. Then, before she could unfasten the seat belt and open the door, he ran around the front of the car and jumped into the driver’s side.
Thankfully she didn’t seem inclined to want out, but neither did she look all that happy to be going with him. He hoped that would soon change.
It was dusk. As long as he didn’t run into any unforeseen delays, the timing should be perfect. Then he would let his hard work speak for itself.
As they drove through town, she maintained her silence. Was she contemplating how to get away from him for good? After the hell she’d been through because of him, could he blame her?
At last Quinn pulled in front of their house. It was now pitch-dark. The stage was set … now for the main event. The instant he had the thought, it happened.
Sam gasped and grabbed his arm. “Oh my gosh, Quinn. It’s beautiful.”
He took in his handiwork. Thousands of Christmas lights outlined the entire house. Even to his jaded eyes, it looked like a Christmas card.
“I remember you told me how you would love to see it decorated for Christmas. Is it what you expected?”
Her voice filled with a hushed awe, she said, “Even more so.”
“Wait … there’s more.”
He jumped out of the car and went around to open her door. Before she could step out, he picked her up again.
“I can walk.”
“I know. I just don’t want to let you go yet.”
“Oh, Quinn, I—” Burying her face against his neck, she burst into tears.
Of all the responses he expected from her, this wasn’t one of them.
“Sam? What’s wrong?”
Unable to articulate what she couldn’t even explain to herself, Samantha kept her face hidden and just shook her head. What a blubbering fool she was. He had done something so incredibly sweet and unexpected. And instead of thanking him, she’d fallen apart.
She felt a kiss to the top of her head and then he whispered, “It’s going to be okay, sweetheart. I promise.”
Refusing to keep her face buried like a wimp, she turned her gaze back to the house. It was even more beautiful than before. Every line of the house was lit up like in a picture book. It was so beautiful, it looked almost unreal … like a fairy-tale house.
“That’s the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.”
“Let’s go inside and see the rest.”
She knew she should protest again and tell him she could walk, but she didn’t want to. All she wanted to do was hang on to his neck and never let him go.
Quinn took long strides toward the house, and the closer they got, the more she was in awe of his handiwork. “Did you do all of this yourself?”
“No. Your brother-in-law and Brody helped, too.”
He shifted her slightly as they approached the steps. “I can walk from here.”
“Not on your life. Do you know how long I’ve been dying to carry you into the house, just like this?”
She looked up at him then … really looked. There was tenderness, affection, and something more in his eyes. And then she realized it was true, everything was going to be okay.
Caressing his jaw, she whispered, “Let’s go inside.”
The rare smile curved his mouth and then he ran up the steps as if she weighed nothing at all. He opened the door, stepped into the foyer, and then stopped. Fragrances she only associated with Christmas surrounded her as she took in all that he had done. Garlands laced with holly berries were draped along the railing of the staircase, and everywhere she looked, there was evidence of the Christmas season. Framed pictures of Santa hung on the walls. Mistletoe hung from every entryway. A rug with Santa’s jolly face covered half the foyer.
“I may have gone a little overboard.” He swallowed hard and she heard the uncertainty in his voice as he continued, “I’ve never decorated for Christmas before. Growing up, all we had was a wreath on the door and a tree decorated by some designer. It this too much?”
Samantha swallowed a huge lump in her throat. Quinn must have bought out an entire Christmas store. And he’d done it all for her. He’d asked if it was too much. It was. But it was also absolutely perfect.
She looked closer and noticed something else. Christmas decorations weren’t the only things he had done. The walls had been painted a light bird’s-egg blue—just like the suggestion she’d given him weeks ago—and the molding at the ceiling and doors was a stark, marsh-mallow white. And plantation blinds covered the windows … just as she had suggested. Everywhere she looked was evidence that not only had he listened to her every word, he had implemented all of them.
“Quinn … I don’t know what to say. It’s beyond beautiful … it’s absolutely perfect.”
As if he’d been anxiously awaiting her verdict, he now released a long, slow breath. “The workmen have been working like crazy to get everything done.”
She peeked up at him. “Everything?”
He grinned. “Let me show you one more thing and then you can explore to your heart’s content.”
Still holding her, he carried her across the foyer and down the hallway to the back of the house, to the family room and its gigantic fireplace. This was the room she had told him would be the perfect place for a family to gather Christmas morning and open presents.
After pushing the door open, he stood still and let her absorb the room. A giant tree, at least twelve feet tall, stood in the corner. Decorated with old-fashioned ornaments and a thousand twinkle lights, it looked like a Hallmark Christmas card. And in here, just like the foyer, he’d covered the room with a variety of decorations.
“I haven’t had time to go shopping yet, so it’s still kind of bare beneath the tree.”
His features blurred as tears glazed her eyes. “Thank you, Quinn. It’s everything I’ve ever wanted.”
He stared down at her for several seconds. She wanted him to kiss her in this perfect room, at this perfect moment. Instead he just continued to gaze down at her, a frown furrowing his brow.
“What’s wrong?”
“Sorry. Guess my lack of sleep is catching up with me.” He dropped her feet to the floor. “Why don’t you explore while I start a fire?”
When his arms dropped away from her, she instantly felt cold and alone again, much the way she had felt since she woke up in the hospital. Shaking off the ridiculous sensation of sadness, she began her tour as he had suggested.
Quinn felt like an idiot. Sam’s feelings of melancholy were normal. Instead of giving her what she needed, he had stupidly behaved like the lovesick hero in a sappy movie.
Wishing he was agile enough to reach up and kick his own ass, he set his mind on getting a fire going and providing Sam with the comfortable, safe environment she needed. When he heard her walking around upstairs, he headed for the kitchen, where he hurriedly filled two cups with milk and cocoa mix and stuck them in the microwave.
The microwave dinged that their hot chocolate was ready. He topped the steaming drinks off with a swirl of whipped cream and set them on a tray with a plateful of cookies he’d purchased at Ava’s Bakery.
He carried the tray to the family room and set it on the table. Knowing she’d find her way back to him, he settled onto the sofa and waited.
Barely a minute later, she appeared at the door. Face glowing, eyes gleaming. God, how he loved her. “Come sit by the fire and have some hot chocolate.”
“The entire house looks wonderful, Quinn. I can’t believe all the things you’ve accomplished.”
He handed her a mug. “You might say I was motivated.”
“I’ll say.” She took a sip. “This is really good and just what I needed.”
He returned his mug to the tray and draped his arm over her shoulder to pull her closer. Dropping a kiss to the top of her head, he settled back and waited. They hadn’t talked about what had happened. Things needed to be said and aired out. He’d prompt her if he had to, but for now, he wanted her to feel comfortable and safe.
She sank into his body and nestled her head on his shoulder. Other than the crackling and popping of the blazing fire and the slight wind whipping up outside, there was silence. Minutes passed and Quinn told himself not to push her, not to question her or bring it up. It was her story to share.
Finally she issued a shaky, deep sigh. “I’ve never been so scared in all my life.”
Quinn’s answer was an encouraging tightening of his arm around her shoulders and pressing another kiss to her head.
“When I woke up, all I could remember was the sight of you lying on the kitchen floor. I didn’t know if you were unconscious or dead.”
“Takes tougher men than the Daytons to do that.”
“How did you escape them?”
“They took me out in the woods to teach me a lesson. I don’t think they counted on me being able to fight, especially with my hands tied behind my back. Once again the army came through for me. I doubt any of them had ever gone up against anyone trained in hand-to-hand combat.” He paused for a second and then added, “Besides, I had more incentive to get loose than they could ever have anticipated. I had to find you.”
“What’s going to happen to Clark and Carl Dayton and the other two guys?”
“That’s up to the DA’s office. As far as I’m concerned, they can rot in jail.”
She was silent for several more seconds and then breathed out another shaky sigh. “Dalton was a sadistic son of a bitch.”
“Yes, he was.”
“He … he didn’t rape me.”
Quinn closed his eyes. The doctors had assured him of that in the hospital, but the shaky way she said it confirmed his fears. The bastard might not have raped her but he’d traumatized her body and her spirit.
“He was going to … I saw it in his eyes. He cut my clothes off and then untied me. I couldn’t move because my circulation had been cut off too long, but I screamed and shouted as many insults as I could. I took the chance he had performance problems unless he had a completely submissive victim.”
“And it worked.” Quinn winced at the sound of his strained, hoarse voice. He was no cool, calm professional listening to a trauma victim, but a man who would give his life for this event to never have happened.
“Yes, but unfortunately since he couldn’t perform with an appendage …”
“That was when he stabbed you in the back.”
“Yes. Then he walked away from me. I think he might have realized he would kill me if he stayed. And he wasn’t ready for me to die yet.”
Quinn knew he was weak but he couldn’t let her go further until he said the words: “Sam, I am so very sorry. If I hadn’t come to Midnight, none of this would have happened.”
She was silent for several long seconds. Hell, had he totally messed things up? Would she clam up and be unable to finish?
Finally, as if letting go of something monumental, she breathed out a long, ragged sigh and her entire body relaxed. “I know this might sound crazy but I’m glad it was me and not someone else. If you hadn’t come to Midnight, he would have continued and most likely killed another woman. One who might not have fought back and survived. As much as I hated the experience, it’s good that it happened to me.”
Oh hell, he was going to lose it. Breathing in her hair, holding her delicate body close to his, Quinn shut his eyes tight to battle the moisture. He hadn’t cried since he was a baby, but hearing her words reinforced his belief that Sam was truly one of the strongest, most beautiful individuals he’d ever met.
“You were so strong and brave. I’m humbled by your courage.”
She shifted her head and grinned up at him. “I am pretty damn awesome, aren’t I?”
He kissed her then, unable to stop himself. When her hands cupped his face, he deepened the kiss but only slightly. He didn’t intend to turn this into a make-out session. Reluctantly he pulled away.
“That’s the first time I’ve been able to talk about it. Thank you, Quinn.”
“Thank you for being so strong, Sam.”
Her head on his shoulder, she whispered softly, “Hey, I’m a Wilde. It’s who we are.”
Samantha snuggled deeper into the covers as strong arms held her against a hard, warm body. She smiled sleepily. There was nothing like waking up in the arms of the man she loved.
Her eyes popped open wide. Quinn was in bed with her? When had that happened? She’d gone to bed last night, just as she had for the past couple of weeks, aching for him but still unable to articulate that need. He had given her time to heal, without any pressure for anything else.
“Don’t panic, Sam.”
She wanted to laugh. There were a lot of things on her mind right now, but panic was definitely not one of them.
“Remember when I asked you what you wanted for Christmas?”
Yes, she remembered that night all too well. Minutes after she had described her perfect Christmas morning, they’d both been unconscious and then abducted.
“Don’t think about what happened after that. Just think about what you said you wanted.”
Relaxing into his arms, she said softly, “To wake up in this house, with you beside me.”
“And?”
“Open presents and have a delicious breakfast.”
“And?”
“Go over to the Wilde house for a Christmas feast and open more presents. And come back here, sit in front of the fire, and drink hot chocolate.” She grimaced. “Sounds pretty tame, doesn’t it?”
His deep voice growled in her ear. “Sounds like heaven to me. And it’s exactly what you’re going to get today.” He paused a heartbeat and then said, “Remember what I said?”
She went breathless and weak instantly. “Oh yes, I definitely remember that.”
He rolled her over on her back and looked down at her. Concern mixed with desire seemed an odd combination, but she appreciated both. Quinn had treated her so tenderly these last couple of weeks. No pressure for anything more than a kiss good night before they went to separate beds.
And she had needed those days to come to terms with all that had happened. Going through that horrific event might have damaged her psyche for a while, but it had also shown her something about herself she had never before acknowledged. Despite her accomplishments, there had been lingering doubt within her that she wasn’t as strong as she needed to be—certainly not as strong as Savvy or Bri. And now she knew she was. Not invincible and far from perfect, but she had faced down a monster and survived. The thread of steel she’d witnessed in her sisters was inside her, too.
She had told Quinn she was glad it had been her and not someone else. And while that was true, she knew it might take a while to completely overcome the terror of that night. Each day had been an improvement over the day before. Being able to talk with Quinn about it, having his steady presence beside her, had helped tremendously.
“Sam?”
She gazed up at the man she loved more than life. He was everything she had ever hoped for and dreamed about. People who didn’t believe in strong, romantic heroes had never met Quinn Braddock. Sexiness and sensitivity were a rare combination.
Even now he was giving her a choice. If she wasn’t ready, he wouldn’t press her for more. Samantha loved him all the more for his gentleness, but she needed him, ached for him.
Brushing a strand of hair off his forehead, she whispered, “I love you, Quinn,” and tugged him down to offer her mouth.
His groan sounded both tortured and thankful as he closed his mouth over hers and delved deep. In seconds, tenderness gave way to passion. Samantha’s nightgown disappeared, landing on the floor. Quinn’s sweatpants followed. At last they were both deliciously, wonderfully nude.
Each lingering caress was met with a gasp of delight; rasping sighs followed every delicious kiss. Quinn’s mouth moved over her entire body, lingering with extra tenderness over the scars on her stomach and back. Samantha arched and purred like a cat, loving the exquisite gentleness laced with a fierce passion.
When at last he came over her and slid inside, Samantha wrapped her legs around his lean hips, arched her body, and gave herself up to the man who had given her so much—her very own romance hero.
Quinn clenched his jaw to maintain his control. He wanted to make this last as long as possible and be as perfect as she was to him. He’d been thinking about this for days. The perfect time, perfect place. But now, as he surged deep within her once more, the words broke free. Breathing them against her lips, he asked, “Want me?”
“Yes,” she moaned.
He withdrew and then went deep again. “Love me?”
On a breathy sigh, she answered, “Yes.”
Pulling completely out, he waited as Sam’s eyes opened and then focused. “Marry me?”
She gasped softly. “Are you sure? Because you don’t have—”
“Sweetheart, I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I love you, Sam. I want to spend my life with you, have babies with you. I want it all.”
Delight brightened her eyes as she tightened her arms and legs around him. “Then yes, yes …”
He thrust deep within her just as she gasped out one last “Yes.”
Happy that she’d given him the answer he wanted, Quinn settled into a gentle, easy rhythm, wanting to build her arousal back slowly, carefully. And then when she was ready, they could fall over the edge together.
Sooner than he had expected, she was right there with him again, arching her body toward his, grasping his hips and taking him as deeply as she could.
Climax shot through him like thunderous, silk lightning. The convulsions of her inner muscles tightened around him as she found her own release. And Quinn gave himself, body, heart, and soul, to the woman who had given him her all. In her arms, he found peace and the knowledge that even in an imperfect world, one could find a perfect love. And that’s exactly what Sam was to him—perfection.