skills would only be found at the level of the national police forces in Canada and the United States. European countries turn to Interpol. Our clients are law-enforcement agencies, countries, financial institutions, insurance companies and private businesses.”
Hope bit down hard on her lower lip. She should have known he’d only left the RCMP because he’d found a broader arena in which to court more danger and excitement. What was that compared to a tame life of raising a family? Like father, like son.
“How does my brother-in-law factor into this?”
“He’s my lawyer. He came highly recommended by a friend.” Quinn paused. “I didn’t realize you were any relation until he suggested he had a sister-in-law who might be willing to take on Kyle and Melanie. He didn’t seem to know about our previous relationship so I didn’t bother to enlighten him.”
Hope closed her eyes and felt the hurt rumble from her voice and burrow deep into her chest. “How flattering that you didn’t come up with my name on your own.”
He gripped her shoulders and her eyes fluttered open to meet the uncapped honesty glimmering in the depths of his wintry gaze. Her skin grew sensitized to the heat generated by his touch and the roughened tips of his fingers. Longing unfurled in her like a cluster of spring flowers bursting through a patch of winter ice.
“Frankly, it never occurred to me to seek you out,” he said brusquely. “I thought by now you’d be married with four kids.” She couldn’t move, could barely breathe as he gently extracted a baby’s breath bud from her hair, holding it between his square-tipped fingers. Her heart lifted and contracted as if stretching after a long dormancy, then commenced to beat at an alarming rate. “Tom told me about your fiancé who died. I’m sorry.”
A flush scalded her face. For the life of her she wasn’t going to ask what other information Tom might have confided about her personal life. Had her brother-in-law thought she’d just leap at the invitation to be married? To have an instant family? Her knees threatened to buckle, but pride kept them rigidly locked in place. She pressed her lips closed and counted slowly to ten, trying not to think of Quinn living in her house as her husband. “Aren’t there any other relatives?”
“No. Carrie was an only child. Her mother died last year and her father is in a nursing home. He’s in no shape to take on the responsibility. Unfortunately, there’s no one else. My mother died six years ago.” He released her and shrugged, the muscles bunching and grinding together beneath his gray sweatshirt. “Given the circumstances, Tom told me that the most expedient thing for me to do from a legal standpoint is to marry and appoint my wife the guardian of the children in my will. As the children’s aunt, there’s a much greater chance the court will uphold my wishes because you’re a relative. I know this sounds a little extreme, but I don’t want to take any chances that the kids could end up becoming wards of the Crown.”
This was so absolutely crazy. Hope’s brain scrambled to process all the information he was giving her. Tom had been specializing in family law for a number of years. She had no doubt the advice he’d given Quinn was sound, but a part of her felt she must object on the children’s behalf. “Forgive me for sounding so blunt, but how can you be so sure that your brother and his wife were killed in your place?”
“Quent was a scientist and worked for the Museum of Science and Technology. It’s not exactly an environment that inspires violence. You knew him. You know what kind of person he was. I deal with people every day who’d like to see me take a trip into the hereafter.”
“How do you know it wasn’t a burglary,” she protested. “Or just some deranged person—”
He ran his hand through his hair. “Because the night they were shot, Quent dropped by my office to collect some tickets to a Senators game at the Corel Centre. I believe the hit man was staking out my office and followed him home, thinking he was me. My address isn’t listed in the phone book. Neither was Quent’s.”
Hope nodded and felt her throat constrict with pain for him, for the children, and for Quent and Carrie, who’d had their lives cut short. “I’m so sorry. I sympathize with your situation, but I’m not sure that I can marry you.”
“Are you involved with someone?”
Hope nearly choked. Not as of 7:00 p.m. this evening. “No, it’s not that.”
“Then, what is it?”
She lifted her chin. He was dangling her deepest, darkest desire in front of her with all the scruples of a proverbial devil negotiating the price of a soul. One simple I do and she’d be a mother and Quinn’s wife. “Have you considered that you may not be doing these children any favors by marrying someone when your heart isn’t in it?” She held his gaze. “Maybe you’re wrong about all this, and one day you’ll decide this marriage was a mistake and put these children through the trauma of a divorce.” She couldn’t bring herself to add just as he’d thought their engagement was a mistake, but the words hung in unspoken accusation between them.
His knuckles grazed her jaw. Another touch, another tender, persuasive assault on her senses. His mouth twisted into a lopsided grin that carved a shallow dimple in his left cheek. A very sexy dimple. “Hit men are results-oriented people, Hope, and I’m not willing to take a chance on being wrong. I don’t want you to love me. I don’t deserve it. But Quent married Carrie for life and I wouldn’t dishonor their commitment to each other and what they wanted for their children by offering you less.”
Damn him. She took a silent inventory of his rugged profile and the jagged plates of his muscled chest, her conscience rebelling at the idea of some mercenary killer wanting to destroy him. If he managed to survive, and that sounded like a big if, he’d stay married to her out of guilt. For the children’s sake. But the thought of exchanging vows with him might destroy her. It had taken her years to get over him.
She darted a glance at Kyle and Melanie and her reluctance to agree to this crazy proposal melted in a rush of compassion. Kyle had abandoned his snack and was industriously hammering a block at the play workbench. Melanie was fast asleep at the picnic table, a graham cracker still clutched in her hand. How on earth was she supposed to resist those two darlings? “If I agreed, I’d be putting my life in danger, as well.”
“Yes,” Quinn stated unequivocally. “But Tom and I, my partner Oliver, and my friend, Gord Swenson, plan to exercise every precaution possible to keep our location under wraps. No phone calls that can be traced or tapped, no record on a computer disk. I’m driving a car that belongs to another friend of Gord’s. We don’t even want your family to know.” He paused, his Adam’s apple working in his lean throat. “As soon as the children have bonded with you, I’m going to leave. I have to do whatever I can to help the police determine whoever is responsible for this. I just can’t leave the kids immediately— I’m the only familiar face they have at the moment and I have to think of their needs first.”
And that, Hope realized, was how they were going to get through this. By thinking of the children and putting Kyle’s and Melanie’s needs first. She threaded her fingers through his and squeezed. For an instant he seemed surprised by her touch, then his fingers twined tightly with hers in a bond of shared understanding. Tears gathered in her eyes.
But their joined hands, and the tingling warmth generated by the contact of their palms made her very much aware that marriage had a physical as well as an emotional commitment.
Her cheeks heated. “Just one more question,” she said, determined to make things clear right from the beginning. “Where do you plan on sleeping while you’re here?”
“On the couch, Mrs. McClure. Sex is the last thing on my mind, but we might have to get Tom’s legal opinion on whether or not the marriage needs to be consummated.”
Hope blushed from her toes to her scalp at the idea of asking her brother-in-law such a question.
“Or maybe not.” His fingers tightened a notch around hers, protective and familiar. “Does this mean you’ll marry me?”
She tilted her