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Quin shook his head. ‘He’s a bodyguard—highly recommended by Claude, my friend who works in security.’
‘To protect Sol from...me? In case I try to take him?’
‘No!’ Quin slashed a hand through the air. ‘To protect youandSol. Claude has assured me that you’re safe from any threat, but I didn’t want to take any chances—especially since we’ve now appeared in the press and your face is out there.’
Sadie sat down on a chair behind her, her legs giving way.
She felt like saying,You can say that again. She’d nearly passed out with shock when she’d seen her face staring back at her from the front page of a daily newspaper with the lurid headline:Quin Holt’s baby mama! Who is Sadie Ryan?
She looked at Quin, feeling a little chastened. ‘I’m sorry... When I saw him and realised he was following us, I got such a fright. Then, when you said he was Security, I just assumed...’ She trailed off. She’d assumed the worst. That Quin was protecting his son—from her.
‘No,’ Quin refuted. ‘I’msorry. I should have told you. I meant to earlier, but I...forgot.’
Sadie’s face grew hot as she thought of that morning, when Quin had stolen out of her bed as dawn was breaking, leaving her in a sated slumber. He hadn’t wanted to risk Sol waking and looking for him.
They hadn’t spent a night apart since making love after the charity function. Gravitating towards each other without saying a word. Making love with an intensity that left Sadie breathless and trembling but hungry for more.
It hadn’t been like this before. Back then there’d been a lazy indulgence to their lovemaking; they hadn’t known they were on borrowed time. But now it was as if they were up against a ticking clock that Sadie couldn’t see. The ticking clock of Quin’s desire for her.
‘Have you eaten?’ he asked.
Sadie shook her head. ‘No, but I made Sol a burger.’ She hadn’t had the appetite, too wound up after what had happened.
‘Come into the kitchen. I’ll make something.’
Sadie’s mouth fell open. ‘You? Make something?’ It had been a running joke between them that Quin couldn’t navigate his way around a kitchen.
He looked sheepish. ‘Yes, me. Let’s just say I’ve had to cultivate some rudimentary culinary skills since Sol was born.’
Sadie stood up and followed Quin into the small kitchen. She sat on a high stool and watched with interest as he took out some eggs and an array of other items, proceeding to chop and whisk with enviable skill for someone who four years ago hadn’t been able to boil an egg.
Sadie remarked, ‘I just assumed you’d had an indulgent mother.’
‘Not an indulgent mother—just an army of staff. I don’t think I ever stepped foot inside the kitchen in any of our houses.’
Curious, Sadie asked, ‘Has your father—?’ She broke off. ‘I keep referring to him as your father...what is your relationship with him now?’
She saw tension come into Quin’s body even as he said lightly, ‘As minimal as possible. It’s not as if he was ever a hands-on father anyway. He treated me and my brother more like staff, and his relationship with me was strained because even before it was confirmed he’d always suspected I wasn’t his.’
‘So he hasn’t met Sol, then?’
‘No interest.’
‘Poor Sol...no grandparents to speak of.’
Something hissed in the pan on the stove, breaking the moment, and Quin attended to it.
When he turned back, he shook his head. ‘You had no one.’
Hearing him acknowledge that fact, Sadie felt something deep inside her—a part of her that had always felt jagged—suddenly wasn’t so sharp. ‘Like I said, others had it much worse than me.’
‘You’re a survivor.’
Sadie blinked. No one had ever said that to her before.
She shook her head. ‘Really, I don’t think I am. I just dealt with the circumstances I found myself in.’
‘Your first instinct today was to protect Sol.’