“Okay,” he said, keeping his voice calm. “I’ll stay up and help you.”
“Oh, that’s a brilliant idea,” she said, rolling her eyes upward. “And just what exactly do you expect to do? Maybe we can take turns typing every other letter.”
“I was thinking more I’d keep you company,” he said softly.
She looked at him again, her eyes unblinking. Then after several seconds, she closed them and took a deep breath.
“I’m sorry,” she said, though there was still an edge to her words. “I’ll do better if I can just concentrate on my own. You go. You need the sleep as much as I do, and one of us should be fresh.”
As much as he wanted to argue the point with her, her logic was sound. Things had been moving fast since Markoff’s body had shown up.
“If there is something you need me for, anything,” he said, “wake me up.”
She smiled, acknowledging his offer but not exactly accepting it.
As he started to walk out, she said, “Quinn?”
He stopped at the entrance to the hallway and looked back.
“I’m sorry.”
This time her annoyance was gone.
In his dream, he was on a sailboat not unlike the one Markoff had rented in San Diego. Only it wasn’t Markoff he was sailing with, it was Peter and Nate. The waves gently rolled the boat. Peter said something about pulling in the fish being Quinn’s job. But Nate was talking about sail length, and rudder speed, and—
“Scoot over.”
Quinn’s eyes fluttered open. Though the light was off, there was enough sunlight seeping in around the edge of the curtains for Quinn to see her. Orlando was standing next to the bed, wearing only a white tank top and matching underwear.
“Come on. I’m tired,” she said.
As Quinn moved more toward the center of the bed, part of his mind thought maybe he was still dreaming.
Orlando lifted the blanket and slipped underneath.
He didn’t move. He didn’t know what to do.
Perhaps she just didn’t want to be alone. He could understand that. Hell, despite what most people thought, he didn’t want to be alone either.
She rolled so she was facing away from him, then inched her way back until she was pressed up against his body—her back against his chest, her legs against his legs. Without even realizing what he was doing, Quinn moved his arm over her, hugging her around the waist.
Her hand slipped down in response, her fingers entwining in his. He closed his eyes and moved his head forward, burying his nose in her hair.
He could both hear and feel her take in a deep breath. He thought for a moment that she had fallen asleep. Then her head turned, and his lips brushed her ear. Then her cheek.
Then her lips were on his. Tentative at first, their kiss light, almost chaste. Then she turned her whole body to him, and his hand moved from her stomach to the small of her back.
As he pulled her close, her lips parted, their tongues touching, searching, caressing.
For a fleeting moment, the image of Durrie appeared in his mind, a reminder that his old mentor had once said Orlando belonged to him and no one else.
“I made you promise, Johnny,” Durrie’s voice seemed to say to him. “I made you promise never to move in on her. Remember?”
For so long, Quinn had done as Durrie had requested.
But for the first time, Quinn realized the promise meant nothing anymore.
So he didn’t stop.
And neither did Orlando.
CHAPTER
THE DOOR TO THE BEDROOM OPENED.
“Rise and shine,” Nate said. “It’s noon.”
Quinn’s first thought was that now Nate knew what had happened between him and Orlando. But as he opened his eyes, he realized he was alone in the bed.
He rolled onto his back and peered across the room. Nate was standing in the doorway.
“You wanted me to wake you up, remember?”
“I remember.”
“Orlando told me that I should let you sleep a little longer. But I figured since you said noon, it was going to be
