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Quin sat up straight. ‘But I could have done something... I could have taken us somewhere else—somewhere safe.’
Sadie looked at him. ‘First of all, I didn’t know that. I didn’t know you had access to any resources. But that wouldn’t have changed anything. These people have access to information that you can’t even believe. They have access that goes beyond the scope of any police force. If they’d tracked me down they wouldn’t have hesitated to kill you too. And Sol.’
Sadie’s eyes were wide now, her face leached of colour again. It was as if she was reliving a nightmare, and Quin had to concede that, whether she was telling the truth or not, she believed her own story. Or else she should be on the stage, winning awards for her acting skills.
Hurt at this reminder that Quin hadn’t confided in her while they’d been together, no matter what he’d just revealed about liking his anonymity, made her say, ‘There’s no point talking about it any more—not until you’re prepared to accept it’s what actually happened.’
With perfect timing the waiter returned with their main courses. Sadie looked stupidly at her plate. She hadn’t even registered what she’d ordered, but apparently it had been fish, artfully arranged on the plate on a bed of herbs, with a seasonal salad and baby potatoes.
For the next few minutes she avoided looking at Quin and focused on her food. Even though her appetite had fled, to some extent, she’d learnt the hard way not to skip a hot meal if it was handed to her.
To Sadie’s surprise, the tension defused a little and they ate in silence. If not companionable, then at least not overtly antagonistic.
She glanced up and saw Quin’s muscled forearms, exposed where he’d rolled up his sleeves. Her insides twisted with awareness. He had big hands with long fingers. Blunt nails. Masculine.
Their plates were taken away and coffee and biscuits delivered. Sadie took a sip of the fragrant, rich drink and closed her eyes, appreciating the aroma. She could feel the constant inner tension and vigilance she’d carried around for years slowly starting to unwind within her. In spite of Quin’s anger and distrust.
When she opened her eyes again Quin was studying her. Her cheeks grew warm. She put her cup down. Quin didn’t look away. He’d always had that confidence. No shyness. Not like her. He’d used to look at her intently before, until she’d start laughing or try to break his focus.
Once, when they’d been in bed, she’d asked, ‘Why do you look at me like that?’
‘Like what?’
‘Like you want to see all the way inside me.’
‘Maybe because I do...maybe because I wonder who you really are.’
The memory made Sadie shiver a little.
‘Cold?’ Quin asked.
Sadie shook her head. ‘No, just a memory...’ Impulsively she said, ‘I’m glad Sol had you.’
‘He will always have me.’
There was a clear warning in Quin’s tone.
Sadie looked at him. ‘He also has me now. I’m not leaving again.’
The air quivered between them. But the tension was broken when Quin said, ‘Come on—we’ve a stop to make before we pick up Sol from school.’
Sadie’s heart jumped. She would get to see her son at school! She stood up and followed Quin out of the restaurant, noting how the manager practically bowed to him on the way out. A far cry from their very humble life together in the beach house in Sao Sebastiao.
Back in the luxurious confines of the car, Sadie noticed they weren’t going back towards the suburb. ‘Where are we going?’
‘You need some clothes.’
Sadie opened her mouth and was about to protest, but nothing came out. She did need clothes. She still felt self-conscious. The restaurant had highlighted her shabbiness. No doubt Quin was wondering how on earth he’d let lust overwhelm him the other night, now he’d seen her in the harsh light of day against a sophisticated backdrop and in comparison to other women.
‘I don’t have money to pay you back now, but I will as soon as I get a job.’
Quin made a sound that was somewhere between a sceptical noise and‘whatever’, which made Sadie even more determined to do what she could to get her life back on track as soon as possible. There was bound to be a hair salon looking for a stylist in the city somewhere.
Quin was slowing down now, and expertly parking in a space outside what appeared to be a very upmarket boutique, with mannequins in the window wearing long sheaths of glittering dresses.
Before Sadie could say anything, Quin was out of the car and opening her door, extending a hand to help her out. She was loath to touch him when he’d all but told her that making love to her had been a huge mistake, but there was no other way to get out of the low-slung car gracefully, so she put her hand in his and gritted her teeth against the all too predictable reaction in her blood.
She pulled away as soon as she was standing up straight, and studiously ignored Quin as he gestured for her to precede him into the boutique. Once inside, Sadie immediately wanted to turn and leave again—but she couldn’t, because Quin was right behind her, saying something over her head to the very elegant manager. His Portuguese was so fast, Sadie couldn’t keep up.