Page 109 of Savage Suit

“What makes you think I’m in love?” Quinn asked, her mischief gone. “Maybe you’re imagining that because you walked in while his cock was down my throat.”

“I saw your pain when you found out about Megan. You didn’t know she lives with him. You didn’t even ask him when he rushed up to us and took you in his arms.”

“I don’t know, Ryan.” Quinn glared at Reid. “One day, I was fine as things were, and the next he was all I could think about. The only man I wanted to lie next to or see. Maybe it happened when we went to the beach late one night. Or the night he took me to a musical on Broadway.”

“But you are in love with him.” It wasn’t a question.

“Yes,” Quinn answered. “I am. Anyway,” she said briskly. “A car will be there for you in the morning. Reid informed me, as a KGM executive, you get a driver.”

“Are you serious?” Ryan asked with hope.

Quinn smiled. “Yes, Ry, I am so rest easy, big sister. I got your back.” She didn’t wait for Ryan to respond before she disconnected.

“Quinn,” Reid started.

She got to her feet and looked at me, her eyes wide and teary. “I’m so tired. Can you show me to my quarters or tell me where to go?”

“Quinn,” Reid tried again.

“Fuck off,” she snapped.

“I’ll ring for staff,” I told her. “When you leave this room, go to your left. The staircase is in the central foyer. Take a right when you reach the top and go to the end of the hall. Last door on your left.”

She nodded. “Thank you. Don’t forget to order a car for Ryan. Good night, Noah.”

“Quinn?” Reid said, stepping in front of her as I stood and pressed the call button for Lumley. “We need to talk.”

“I have nothing to say to you, so move,” she ordered.

“No. Not until you hear me out.”

“I’m counting to three, Reid Keegan. If you aren’t out of my way by then, I won’t be responsible for my actions.”

“If you told Ryan the truth about being in love with me, then—”

“Then fuck all,” she snapped. “Do you know all you’ve explained to me today? Yesterday,” she amended. “Out of all your fucking disclosures, you neglected to tell me Megan still has a key…no, excuse me…lives with you. I have nothing to say to you ever again.”

Reid’s mouth tightened, but he nodded and stepped aside. As Quinn rushed from the room, his expression grew bleaker. “I think I will make my way upstairs to get some shut-eye.”

“We have a lot to discuss.”

“Ryan’s right, Noah. Any move within the company on our part will be disastrous. At least investigate before you incinerate everyone who fucked with her.”

He was right, just as she was. “As soon as we’re in smoother waters, we strike.”

Reid nodded, then left me to ponder what I’d learned from Quinn and Ryan’s conversation.

Chapter Twenty-Three

Stepping back, I smiled at the small plant on my desk. It capped off my personal touches, my two new chairs for visitors, an ergonomic desk chair, and a pair of landscape paintings. In the two days since Noah and I made love, er, since the press conference, my office had become my refuge. I’d tried to see him yesterday, but Mrs. Mikes told me he was unavailable. Perhaps, we’d meet today, though I wasn’t holding my breath. No matter. I’d made lists for each project, so I knew what needed to be done.

Besides, I wasn’t in the best frame of mind. As much as I tried to pretend otherwise, Ingrid Warrington’s claims about my parents bothered me. In forty-eight hours, I’d been angry, grief-stricken, horrified, and heartsore. My father saw no other out but what she claimed? A part of me wondered if what Armani told them about me pushed him over the edge. That thought was almost worse than any of the others.

My door opened without warning, and I spun around, expecting to see Noah, but finding his very bruised brother. If he was anyone else, I would’ve been concerned by how rough he looked. But knowing him, he deserved the no doubt brutal beating that resulted in his injuries. Glaring at him, I folded my arms. “A closed door indicates want of privacy. Knock before your barge into my office, Nicholas.”

He gave me an ugly look, slammed the door shut, and sauntered to my chair, where he sat. His insulting perusal studied me from head to heel. “Pretty legs,” he said blandly. “Easy access to your pussy in that short skirt.”

I gasped.