The Mighty Quinns: Rogan

“Everyone has at least a few problems worth talking about,” she countered.

“Like your need to control every single moment of this trip? That’s going to be a problem. Maybe we should talk about that.”

She considered his statement for a long moment, then nodded. “Point taken. I have my own little demons. But I’m curious about yours.”

“I don’t have any.” Rogan recognized the lie. But the last person he wanted peering into the dark corners of his mind was Dr. Claudia Mathison.

“I’ll make you a deal,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“If you get me to loosen up, then I get to peek inside your head.”

“You want to x-ray my brain?”

“No,” she said with a giggle. “I want to shrink your head. I want to figure you out. If you manage to loosen me up, then I get to analyze you. You have to answer all my questions.”

“Believe me, you won’t find anything of interest inside my head. I’m a pretty normal bloke.”

“There’s no such thing. Besides, look at yourself. You’re gorgeous—and you’re not married. Not even attached.”

“How do you know I’m not attached?”

“Because if you were, you wouldn’t be staring at me like you want to kiss me,” she said.

Rogan gasped. “I do not—”

“Oh, come now. You’re most definitely flirting with me. You touch me every opportunity you get.” She nodded at his hand resting on her leg, his fingers in hers. “See there? So tell me all your secrets.”

Rogan downed his whiskey, then motioned for another. He’d never met a woman like Claudia, a woman who said exactly what was on her mind the moment it occurred to her. He was used to expending all his energy trying to figure out the opposite sex. Women never said exactly what they meant, they were always playing some sort of game.

Maybe that was why he’d been reluctant to make a romantic commitment. How could a guy trust his heart to a woman when he couldn’t be sure when she was telling the truth and when she was lying? “I don’t have any secrets,” Rogan said. “Maybe we should talk about tomorrow’s itinerary.”

“Classic avoidance,” she said.

“I’m doing my job,” he countered.

“I’m sure everything will go exactly as planned.”

“You can’t plan for every eventuality, Dr. Mathison. I—”

“You should call me Claudia,” she interrupted. “Unless you deliberately want to maintain a distance between us. Which doesn’t seem to be the case since you’re still touching me.”

Rogan looked down to find his fingers still tangled in hers. Hell, he hadn’t even realized what he was doing. He gently pulled his hand away.

“I might change our plan a bit,” he said. “I don’t want to stress the group out too much on the first day.”

“It was a certified disaster today, wasn’t it?” she muttered. “I should have planned better. But it was just like a— What do you call that when snow slides down the side of a hill and—”

“Avalanche?”

“Yes! An avalanche. It started small and it just got bigger and bigger until I couldn’t seem to stop it. Avalanche. Why couldn’t I remember that word?”

“You’re exhausted. Your brain isn’t functioning at full capacity. And you’re working on your third martini.”

“I require very little sleep,” she informed him.

Jaysus, she was a quirky little thing, Rogan mused, suppressing a smile. “Yes, you mentioned that on the phone.”

“I know I can be a pain in the arse,” Claudia said. “And I’m sorry if I was overly demanding. I could tell you were irritated, but it always pays to be prepared. I like to be prepared. You can appreciate that, can’t you?”

“I can,” Rogan agreed. “But then, there is something to be said for spontaneity. Interesting things happen when you don’t plan for them.”

“I suppose so,” Claudia said. “I didn’t expect you to be so attractive. I didn’t plan on that.”

He chuckled softly. “What did you expect?”

“Someone older. Rougher around the edges. More commanding.”

“I’m not commanding?” Rogan asked.

“No. I mean, you’re obviously very competent. But I’d call you affable. Yes, that’s it. You’re affable.”

Was that really her first impression? Rogan wondered. Women were usually much more taken by his charm and devastating good looks. Or so they said. “And you’re drunk,” he said.

“Maybe,” Claudia admitted. “Just a little. But you’ll still be affable in the morning.”

For some reason, the sentiment seemed to amuse her and she got caught up in a long fit of giggles. Rogan found her loss of control just as endearing as her joke and he joined her until they were both giddy and breathless. Claudia took a deep breath. “I feel better now,” she said.

“Better than having a good cry?” he asked.

“Much better.”

“Come on then,” he said. “I’ve got you a room. You can finish your drink there. That way, if you pass out, you’ll already be in bed.”

He picked up her glass and waited while she got to her feet. Her bag was still sitting next to the stool. “Can you have someone bring her bag up to room 1114?” he asked the bartender.

“I can get my own bag,” Claudia protested. “I’m not that drunk.” She bent down to pick it up but had to reach out to balance herself on the back of the stool. “Then again, maybe I am.”

“Come on, Doc. Just put one foot in front of the other. The lift isn’t that far.”

“You are a very good guide,” Claudia said, waving her finger at him.

It took a bit of time for her to balance her purse and her bag, but then she took off at an amazingly brisk pace, her shoes clicking smartly against the marble floor as he followed. When they got to the lift, she pushed the button and stared at the lights above the door. He stood behind her, wondering what was going through her head.

Rogan knew exactly was going through his mind. His gazed drifted down to her bum and he contemplated the curves beneath the unfaded denim jeans. By appearances, she seemed to be the model of perfection, right down to her painted fingernails. But he got the sense that the prim and proper exterior was hiding a mess of contradictions on the inside.

He’d always heard that about shrinks, that they were usually more crazy than their patients. She’d been crazy enough to try to get five of her phobic patients on a plane together and fly them all to New Zealand, and crazy enough to plan this trip.