Chapter 7
They arrived at JFK on time. Claire had never been so happy to get off an airplane in her entire life. The return flight home was much longer, and they’d had seats in coach by the toilets. Between the passengers’ coming and going, not to mention the smell that seeped out every time the door opened, Claire never slept a wink. By now it’d been close to forty-eight hours since she’d had any real sleep. Her eyes were gritty, her teeth felt like she hadn’t brushed them since they’d come in, and on top of everything else, she felt like she was coming down with a cold.
Once they passed through Customs and retrieved their luggage, Quinn made a phone call. Twenty minutes later, they were picked up in a black Lincoln and whisked off to a private airport.
“Where are we going?” she asked, though truly she didn’t care. As long as it was away from that terrible smell.
“I thought you wanted to spend the holidays with your family,” Quinn said. “I am making it my personal mission to see that you arrive safely. I’ve chartered a private jet to take you to Colorado.”
“Tell me you’re kidding.”
“I would, but I’m not.”
“I don’t know what to say, other than thank you.” Claire was too tired to think straight. All she wanted to do was sleep. If Quinn wanted to hire a private jet to take her home, it was fine with her. As long as she could sleep, and the plane didn’t smell like urine, she was good. She didn’t even think about being afraid. And she hadn’t been afraid on the return flight from Ireland. Quinn had entertained her, they’d watched two movies, shared the goodies Tilly sent, and talked about everything and nothing. By the time they landed on American soil, Claire felt as though she’d known him her entire life. Quinn told her about his law practice. He was a defense lawyer but devoted much of his time to the down and out. She wanted to ask him how he managed to earn a living, but she knew he’d inherited half of his father’s fortune when he’d died. Quinn Connor was a very rich man but Claire didn’t care. She liked him, maybe a bit more than liked, but again, she would keep those thoughts to herself. For now, she was content to let him take charge of her life even if it was only for a few hours.
“You don’t mind if I come along for the ride?” he asked, as they climbed aboard the luxurious Beechcraft Super King Air B200.
“Not at all, but I can’t promise to keep my eyes open much longer,” Claire said, then immediately yawned. “I am tired.”
Quinn helped her get settled in her seat, showed her all the fancy buttons, and as soon as they were at a safe altitude, he explained to her how her seat reclined. He removed a soft pillow from the overhead bin, along with an equally soft blanket that smelled like Downy fabric softener. “You sure know how to make a girl happy.”
He sat in the seat facing her. “You ain’t seen nothing yet.”
It wasn’t long after takeoff that Claire fell into a sound, restful sleep. When she awoke, she was surprised to learn she’d been asleep for almost five hours. Her eyes didn’t feel gritty, but her mouth felt horrible. Quinn was sipping a cup of coffee and reading The Wall Street Journal. He must have sensed her watching him because he tore his gaze from the paper, and when he looked at her, Claire truly felt her heart skip a beat. She smiled at him.
“Have a nice nap?”
“Beyond. That coffee smells luscious.”
“I knew you’d want a cup, so I made sure to save some for you.” Quinn had to stoop as he walked to the small galley at the back of the aircraft, but when he returned with a cup of strong black coffee in a real china cup, Claire felt as though she’d died and gone to heaven. She sipped the hot brew, relishing every drop. When she finished, Quinn poured her a second cup, this time bringing her a wrapped blueberry muffin and a paper plate with a knife and fork. “Sorry about the paper plate. Jack forgot to pack the good china plates.”
“Hey, this is the most luxurious plane I’ve ever seen. And you know what?” she asked as she opened the cellophane-wrapped muffin. “I’m not even remotely nervous, or afraid. If I could travel in a plane like this, I don’t think I’d be nearly as fearful. Is that crazy or what?” she asked, then took a bite of her muffin.
“Not at all. Now do you want to hear about Kelly and Paddy’s surprise? While you were sleeping, I made a few phone calls. It seems that Kelly’s husband died in a motorcycle crash right after she learned she was pregnant. Her mother barely gets by, but Kelly didn’t have much choice after her husband died, so she moved in with her. It’s public housing, which isn’t so bad, but the area is Dublin’s worst. Apparently, Kelly works as a full-time housekeeper for a well-to-do family. They bought her and Paddy’s tickets to New York.”
“How do you know all this?”
“First, and foremost, I am an attorney with contacts across the globe. Secondly, I have access to the Internet and a telephone. Now does that answer your question?”
He grinned, and once again, Claire felt her heart skip a beat or two. “Has anyone ever told you what an amazing man you are?” She couldn’t help it. This guy was almost too good to be true. And like him, she, too, had her contacts. As soon as she was able, she just might have a look-see into his past, just to make sure there wasn’t anything . . . what, she thought? Bad? A juvenile record? An unwanted child? No, she would not do this. She trusted him, and she trusted her gut instinct as well. Quinn Connor was the man she thought he was. Decent, giving, and kind. Not to mention good-looking, brilliant, and, yes, she might as well add rich to his long list of growing attributes. And he was an excellent kisser. If his skills in the bedroom were anything like the rest of him, then Claire knew making love with Quinn Connor would be life-changing.
“Claire?”
She jerked herself out of her reverie. “Sorry, I was fantasizing.”
“About me? Us?” he asked, all traces of humor gone.
Claire wasn’t sure how to answer him. Did she tell him the truth? Or was she willing to be just another woman in a string of many? Someone to toy with until he grew tired of her? Was all of his kindness and concern for others nothing but an act? No, no, no! She had to stop second-guessing herself. She had feelings for this man. Real feelings that had nothing to do with his looks, his financial status, or the number of cars he owned. She just clicked with him, pure and simple.
“Claire, did I say something to upset you?” Again, he was serious.
She shook her head. “No, I’m just not sure why the sudden change of mood. One minute you’re teasing me, and when I tell you I am fantasizing, you’re suddenly serious. Did I say something to upset you?”
“No, you didn’t. So tell me what you’re thinking? Please,” he added, a trace of his earlier humor in his words.
“I’m thirty-four years old, Quinn, not some young cutesy girl that you can discard as soon as you tire of me.” There, she’d said it. Now all she had to do was wait for him to explain that he really liked her, and yes they were going to enjoy one another, but that’s as far as he was willing to go.
What the hell happened to her? The Claire that needed no one. The Claire that was self-reliant and independent? The woman who vowed to remain footloose and fancy-free? She didn’t know. Maybe she’d left that woman behind when she’d crossed the Atlantic. Whatever it was, she wasn’t Super Claire anymore and didn’t want to be.
More than anything, Claire O’Brien wanted to be loved. And she would accept nothing less. And that was the old dynamic Claire talking. She grinned.
“Want to tell me what’s so funny because right now, I don’t seem to see the humor in what you just said. And for the record, Claire, I’m almost forty years old. I am not looking for some ‘young cutesy girl’ to have a fling with. I thought we had something. Was I mistaken? Am I moving too fast? Tell me, I want to know.”
The old stubborn Claire was up and running, putting her foot in her mouth. The new, softer Claire was glowing inside just knowing that Quinn might have more than lust on his mind.
“I was fantasizing about sleeping with you, when you asked why I was grinning. Then I decided that you’re way too handsome, way too accomplished, and way too rich to want . . .”
“—what?”
“A relationship.” There it was out. She barely knew the man, and she wanted a commitment from him. Sort of.
“Do you think I make a habit of traipsing across the globe to help damsels in distress? Is that the kind of man you want to be with?”
“No and yes,” Claire replied.
“I suppose I have to ask if that was answered in the order in which the questions were asked?”
Claire smiled, she couldn’t help it. She needed to learn to stop putting words in the mouths of everyone she came in contact with. It was truly a bad habit, one she wanted to rid herself of, but it wasn’t going to be easy.
“Now you’re laughing at me,” Quinn commented, but he, too, had a slight grin on his face and a twinkle in his eyes.
“I would never laugh at you, Quinn, but I promise I will laugh with you.”
“I like that answer. And let me say something before we land, because something tells me it might be a while before we’re alone again. But before I say anything else, I just want you to know that Kelly and Paddy, and, of course, her mother now have a brand-new home, courtesy of Flynn Financial. That’s the name of my private company. And Kelly will no longer be cleaning other people’s homes to earn a living. A little bird told me she’s always wanted to go to school to become a nurse, and, of course, I made sure that this will happen. I did save that for Christmas Day, though. I thought the house was enough for now. And Paddy. He’ll never have to worry about a college education because that’s been taken care of, too.”
Claire was truly at a loss for words. And here she thought sending Kate Spade shoes and Uggs was a grand gesture. A house? An education for Kelly and Paddy? No, she didn’t even want to try to top that. Stunned that he’d managed to accomplish all this while she slept, and aboard an airplane! If ever there was a true Santa Claus, it was Quinn Connor.
“You know what? From now on, I think I’m going to call you Mister Christmas.”