Before she'd managed to work his pants the rest of the way down his legs, he stopped her. He grabbed her wrists to move them up above her head and then, with one deep thrust, he drove himself into her.
"Quinn!" She gasped and then pulled her hands away to grab at his shoulders at his back as he began to move inside of her.
"Janie…Janie …" he said over and over, trying not to lose control but failing miserably.
She arched her back and cried out. He felt her spasm beneath him.
Nothing had felt this good to him. Nothing at all. Nobody. He'd waited his whole life for her.
He loved her. Oh, God, he loved her. He couldn't believe it himself, but having her in his life was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Why hadn't he realized it until just now? Had it taken the possibility of losing her to make him realize what she meant to him?
"I thought I'd lost you," he managed. "I couldn't lose you. Not like that."
Her silky hair ran through his fingers. She found his mouth again, and he kissed her deeper and harder, almost violent in his need for her lips and her body… and forher . All of her.
After another minute, he cried out against her mouth and then fell against her and the soft sheets and the firm bed and her fragrant skin that surrounded him, filling his senses completely.
When he was able to think—which wasn't right away—he pushed up on his elbows, searching blindly for her mouth and finding it. He kissed her for a very long time, just exploring her lush lips and tongue, and then pulled back and looked into her beautiful blue eyes.
"Well, hello," she said.
A smile played at his mouth. "You say 'thank you' really good."
"You think?" She ran her fingers through his hair.
"How much of the dress have I paid off?" he asked.
"Not much. You have a great deal of work ahead of you."
He arched an eyebrow at her and grinned. He was definitely up for the challenge. Like,immediately .
He leaned forward to kiss her again.
"That was simply beautiful," a voice said from behind him.Malcolm .
Quinn tensed and he looked at Janie, whose eyes had widened. Then he looked over his shoulder at the intruder.
"I thought you'd sire her," Malcolm said, with a wry grin. "You really should consider locking your door before getting intimate. It's common practice in polite society, you know."
"You son of a bitch." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "I'm going to kill you."
Malcolm didn't look concerned. "I've returned for the stone. I know you have it. Give it to me."
Quinn glanced at Janie, who stared back at him with a mix of anger and uncertainty. He swung off the bed, pulling on his khakis.
"You think I'm going to give you anything after what you did to her? I should have killed you myself when I had the chance."
"But you didn't," Malcolm said. "A decision I actually found rather weak, my boy. Very Hamlet, in fact.
The young prince whooverthinks his actions to the point of never achieving anything at all. To his own detriment, in the end."
"Never cared much for Shakespeare."
"I believe it is our deep emotional bond that keeps you from attempting to kill me."
"Just shut up, old man." Quinn's eyes narrowed. "You think you can walk in here after everything you've done and get it from me? Not damn likely. Where's the Eye?"
He pulled it out of his jacket pocket. "Right here."
Quinn glanced down at it, every muscle in his body tense and ready to strike.
Malcolm didn't back down. "I'm sure you think you can take it from me, right? Well, let me remind you of one thing, Michael Quinn. My plan? Do you remember what I shared with you?"
The conversation he'd had with Malcolm in the country bar replayed in his mind. The gist had essentially been, "Kill them. Kill them all." Fist pump.
"What about it?"
Malcolm smiled thinly. "I'm not surprised that you came here to the very casino where I told you my plans would begin in earnest. Your first thought is to save others, even when they are scum who deserve to die."
Quinn stared at him in stony silence. He'd had so many chances to kill Malcolm. Yesterday at his house when he'd first knocked Janie out. In the alley after he'd staked Quinn and left him in the country bar.
Even earlier today in the museum. Three opportunities to end a creature who'd given up his right to live by being the epitome of evil—the very thing Quinn had always hoped to save others from, even when it was misplaced.
All because the old coot used to be nice to him as a kid.
Not good enough.
Quinn shrugged, attempting to look in control. "I think all three hundred hunters in attendance here might disagree with you. And I very much doubt they'll have a problem taking you out if you try anything."
"Is that so?" Malcolm raised an eyebrow. "So many of them and only one of me. And yet tonight I shall still begin my true plans with a… bang."
"What the hell does that mean?" Janie snapped from behind Quinn. She gathered the sheets to cover herself and stood up.
Malcolm smiled and raised his index finger to his mouth. "Shh. Do you hear that? Three hundred hunters now gathered in the theater for their ego-stroking awards. All of them in one place. And I will kill them.
All of them."
Quinn tried to laugh at that. "You must have a very big gun."
"Or a very big bomb."
Quinn's blood ran cold. "What did you say?"
Malcolm smiled. "I have placed a bomb in this building. It will detonate in…" He glanced at his wristwatch. "… less than twenty minutes."
"You're lying."