The Mighty Quinns: Brian

“You flatter me,” she teased, keeping the banter light. “And I don’t even know your name.”

“Oh, let’s not play that game. And let’s not talk about what we do for a living. Or where we come from. And the weather is off-limits, too.”

“All right,” Lily said, intrigued by the game. “We can talk about art and literature and music. But I have to call you something.”

“Darling was kind of nice,” he said with a devilish grin.

“I guess you can call me sweetheart, then,” Lily countered. Though their conversation had a provocative tone, she couldn’t help but giggle. From the amused expression on his handsome face, he wasn’t taking this any more seriously than she was.

“Sweetie for short,” he said. “Come on, sweetie, they’re playing our song. I think we should dance, don’t you?” He took the shoes from her hand, flipped them over his shoulder and sauntered toward the stairs.

Lily watched him for a long moment, her gaze fixed on his wide shoulders. Why not enjoy this handsome stranger for a night and leave it at that? She’d hoped to find a man in Boston and this stranger certainly fit the bill. And if she admitted up front that there was no possibility for a real relationship, then she couldn’t get hurt again.

He stopped walking and glanced over his shoulder. “Are you coming, darling?”

Lily laughed softly before she picked up her skirts and hurried after him. “Have you forgotten my name already? I’m sweetheart. You’re darling.”

THE BAND HAD JUST BEGUN their rendition of “Isn’t It Romantic” when Brian drew the beautiful stranger in the gold gown out onto the dance floor. He twirled her beneath his arm and then pulled her against his body, moving along with the music. Her gown dipped low on her back and he spread his palm over her warm skin, surprised at how soft it felt.

The evening had quickly turned from business to pleasure. When he’d arrived, he’d easily talked his way inside without an invitation, but the opportunity to confront Richard Patterson hadn’t materialized. According to one of the guests, Patterson had left a few minutes before due to some business emergency. Brian had decided to check out the crowd from the balcony in hopes that he might spot some of Patterson’s cronies. But once he’d set eyes on the girl in the gold dress, he’d pretty much forgotten about everything else.

“You’re a very good dancer,” she said.

“And you are, too,” he returned.

He found their little game endlessly intriguing. But he wasn’t sure where the game ended and reality began. She acted as if she didn’t recognize him and with his face on billboards and busboards all over town, that was a bit difficult to believe. Maybe she didn’t watch the news. Or maybe she didn’t live in Boston.

He was willing to play along, at least for the time being. Though he’d seduced his fair share of women before, he’d always taken a straightforward approach to the matter. But this was different. They’d constructed a silly set of rules. Were the rules there to protect them both from their desires—or to liberate them from their inhibitions?

“I took dance lessons from age seven to age twelve,” Lily said. “My mother insisted. She said I’d need it someday and I didn’t believe her. I guess I was wrong.” She smoothed her hand over his shoulder. “And how about you?”

“I just have natural grace and athletic ability. Plus, you’re making me look a whole lot better than I really am.”

Brian looked down at her and couldn’t take his eyes off her face. She was beautiful, with lively green eyes and a riot of auburn curls cascading from the crown of her head. Little tendrils had escaped the mass of curls and caressed her cheeks and forehead and Brian fought the urge to brush them away.

But then he realized there was no need to just contemplate touching her. Nothing in her manner made him believe his touch would be unwelcome. He reached up and smoothed his fingers along her cheekbone, tucking the strands behind her ear. For a moment, her breath stilled and their gazes locked. And then he grabbed her around the waist. “Dip,” he said, leaning her back.

They continued to dance, whirling around the floor as if they were Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire. In truth, Brian was surprised at how easy it was to have her in his arms. She seemed to anticipate his every move. With her, he did look like the best dancer on the floor. And in his eyes, she was the most beautiful woman in the room.

“So if we don’t talk about our jobs, or the weather or where we’re from, what should we talk about?” she asked.

“Whatever you want,” Brian said. “I’ll give you five questions and you give me five. Anything. No restrictions. And we have to answer honestly. That should start some interesting conversation, don’t you think?”

“I’ll start,” she said. “Are you married?”

“No. Never been married. Are you?”

“No, never.” The orchestra segued into “Embraceable You” and they continued to dance. “I came close once, but it didn’t work.” She considered her next question carefully. “Involved?” she asked.

He clucked his tongue and shook his head. “Oh, sweetie, you’re going to burn a question on that? No, I’m not involved. And I won’t ask you that one, because I don’t care if you are involved. You’re here with me now, and that’s all that matters.”

“One more question,” she said. “What’s your name?”

“Brian,” he said. “Brian Quinn.” He paused, waiting for her to offer her own name, then realized she was going to force him to ask. “And what about you?”

“It’s Lily Gallagher. That’s three for me, and two for you. Don’t you want to ask me another question?”

“Are you from Boston?” he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

“For the time being. But I live in Chicago.”

So she really didn’t know who he was. They were essentially strangers. “It’s nice to meet you, Lily,” he murmured. “Lily. I like that name. It suits you.”

“And why is that?” She winced. “And that wasn’t one of my five questions. Just curiosity.”

“Oh, now here’s the test for me. I’m going to have to come up with something very poetic to say about your name or you’ll realize that I’m not as smooth as I’m pretending to be.”

“I’m a big fan of poetry, Brian Quinn.”

He cleared his throat. “Well, unless it’s a dirty limerick, I think you’re out of luck with me.”

“Hey, I’ll take a limerick.”

Brian groaned softly. “I guess I stepped in that one.” He thought for a moment, all the off-color limericks he’d ever heard racing though his mind. “I’m Irish, so this could come naturally. There once was a girl dressed in gold, who I approached in a way very bold. We danced through the night, held each other so tight, and left all our sad stories untold.”

Lily laughed. “That wasn’t bad. But it didn’t answer the question.”

“That’s because the only words that rhyme with Lily are filly, frilly and dilly.” He paused, studying her until she was forced to avert her gaze. “Lily suits you because I like the sound of it when I say it. And I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone named Lily, so whenever I hear that name, I’ll think of you first.”

A tiny sigh slipped from her lips. “That’s very poetic.”

He stared down at her, his gaze skimming over her pretty features. He didn’t have to think before he kissed her. He simply leaned forward and she was there, waiting, her upturned mouth soft and damp and sweet. There was no hesitation and no doubt that it was the best use of that particular moment. And then he drew away and they continued dancing.

She felt good in his arms, as if she fit. His hand rested on her back in just the right spot and her fingers nestled perfectly in his palm. And their bodies brushed against each other as he pulled her near, hips against hips, her breasts pressed to his chest.

Brian couldn’t remember the first time he’d been attracted to the opposite sex. It had happened so long ago and there had been so many girls and women since then. But there was something different about Lily, something that he couldn’t put his finger on. Maybe it was the little game they were playing, two strangers in the night exchanging more than glances.

With each new tune the orchestra played, he learned more about her, about the way she moved and the sound of her voice, the shape of her body beneath her dress and the smell of her perfume in the curve of her neck. They talked, but not about anything important, yet each word seemed to draw him in, to make him want her more. He didn’t know what she did for a living, he didn’t know her favorite food or even if she had any hobbies.

But he did know where the evening might end and for the first time in his adult life, Brian wasn’t sure that he wanted it to end there. He pushed the thoughts from his head, focusing on the music and scent of her hair, determined to enjoy each little moment, without regard to where it was leading.

He drew in a slow breath. Hell, that was a revelation. Maybe spending time with a woman didn’t always have to be about sex. Maybe seduction could end in just a simple kiss good-night.

The music stopped and the lights in the ballroom gradually came up. Lily lifted her head from his shoulder and glanced around, her brow furrowed. “What time is it?”

“Time to go,” he said. “We’re the last people on the dance floor.”

A faint blush crept up her cheeks. Even in the harsh light, she looked beautiful. “I didn’t realize it was so late.”