Chapter 3

Morning seemed to come too fast. Elianna brushed at the ray of sunshine that was tickling her nose, moaning her displeasure when it didn't leave her to sleep. She stretched in the bed, feeling the warm body of the man next, her eyes blinking open as she remembered what had happened between them the night before.

She moaned again when she felt his hands wrap around her slender waist, dragging her back against him. "Too early," he groaned, burying his face in her hair. "Way too fucking early."

"The early treasure hunter gets the treasure," she teased, wiggling her butt against the hardness of his cock.

His hands rose and covered her breasts, his fingers twisting on her nipples. "Keep that up and you'll get your thirds," he growled.

"Hmm, promises, promises," she teased, reaching behind her to run her nails up his thigh. She quit teasing, rolling to her back instead to stare up at him. "Have you decided?"

Quinn looked startled at the sudden question and then a look of stunned disbelief came over his face. "Is that what this was all about?"

"What what was about?" she asked, confused.

"Falling into bed with me the way you did. Did you think that you could make me so besotted that I'd have to go with you on your treasure hunt? That by sleeping with me, I'd be willing to go up against your old man?" His hand took hold of her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "That's what this was all about, your willingness to fuck me. Small price for freedom, huh?"

Elianna jerked her head away from his hand. "I'm beginning to think I'd be better off going on my own. Who the hell do you think you are that I would throw myself at you, to make love with you just so that you'd go with me? What kind of whore do you take me for?" She pushed herself out of bed, grabbing his sweatshirt off the floor to cover her nakedness. "I don't use my body to get what I want."

"Well, you are an Antonelli," Quinn snarled. "And we definitely know how they get their way."

"Angel is as much Antonelli as I am. Do you think she'd crawl into your bed to get what she wanted?" Elianna could feel the tears of hurt clogging her throat and she swallowed hard, refusing to let the arrogant bastard see them.

"Angel was raised by her mother, not her father."

"You son of a bitch," she snarled, reaching behind her for something hard that she could throw. She picked up a bottle made from stone and hurled it at him, feeling a small triumph when it struck him in the chest. She picked up another but didn't have a chance to strike.

Quinn had risen from the bed and grabbed her arm. "Those are tourmaline and worth probably five times as much as that piece of shit car you were driving last night. Now, quit throwing fits and tell me the truth. I respect the truth more than any kind of pretense you give me."

For a moment amber eyes met green and she growled, twisting her arm out of his grasp. "Do you want to know why I slept with you? Do you really want to know?"

"Yes."

Taking a step toward him, she could feel the heat of his body against her chest though they weren't yet touching. "This is the reason I slept with you." She reached up and dragged his lips down, kissing him with every bit of desire she felt in her gut. She felt his arms come around her, dragging her even closer, one hand tugging at the sweatshirt to cup a naked butt cheek in his palm. Before he could take over the kiss, she stepped back, pulling out of his embrace. "That's the reason, right there.

"Anna," he breathed, reaching toward her, wanting her back in his arms.

"No, Quinn. No!" She moved further away, reaching down and picking up the sweatpants he'd taken off of her the night before. "I-I don't want you anymore." Before he could say another word, she pushed past him and down the stairs. Quickly picking up the papers she'd shown him last night, she carefully encased them in their plastic and pushed them into her purse. She was sitting on the couch, staring out the front window at the woods that surrounded his peaceful home when he came down the stairs. "I need my clothes."

"We need to talk, Anna."

"No, Quinn, we don't. If you'll get me my clothes, I'll be out of your hair."

"You're ten miles in the middle of nowhere. Where the hell do you think you're going to go?" He sank down on the chair, feeling almost helpless in the face of her rage and her unwillingness to talk to him.

"It wouldn't be the first time I've had to walk. I'll be just fine."

"What kind of man do you think I am, Anna? I can't just let you walk out of here. I won't."

"I think you're a smug, selfish bastard. I think you're arrogant and only care about yourself and what you want. And I think I don't want to be around you now. She stood, going to the door and where she'd taken off her shoes the night before. "Where are my shoes? You can keep the clothes. I'd walk naked out of here rather than have to deal with you."

"Anna?" His tone was disbelieving. He stared after her in amazement as she stalked back, grabbing her purse.

"Keep them." She hiked up the too big sweatpants and then, without another word, headed out his front door. He rose, going to the door and watching out one of the small windows next to the door. She stomped through the mud and muck on the driveway, stumbling only once when she seemed to hurt her foot.

"Dammit Anna," he growled. He quickly threw his shoes on, grabbing the keys to his four-wheel-drive. He ran out his back door, sliding to a stop next to his Jeep. He hit the button on the garage door, waiting for it to almost go all the way up before backing out. Then he was headed down the long driveway.

Elianna had made it almost to the first stop sign down the road, her shoulders stiff, refusing to look at him when he drove up next to her and rolled down the window. "Come on, Anna. You can't walk all the way to town without shoes. Come on, get in. We'll get your clothes dried and then, if you still want to go, we can talk about it."

She ignored him, her chin stubbornly tilted up.

Quinn closed his eyes for a second and breathed out a sigh of resignation. "Anna," he began, his tone very different than before. "I'm sorry."

She glanced his way before turning back to her walking.

"I was wrong, Anna. I was wrong and I'm an idiot. I should have known better than to accuse you with something like that. Please, forgive me." His face was full of contrition and he felt a small spurt of relief when she quit walking.

"You don't believe I would sleep with you to get you to do what I want?" she asked softly.

"No, Anna. I was a complete ass and I'm sorry."

Her eyes scanned his face and something in his expression had her shoulders setting and then she started walking again. "Liar."

Quinn growled, throwing the Jeep into park and getting out of the car to swoop her into his arms. He put her in the passenger seat of the Jeep. "You stay there," he ordered, his voice brooking no thoughts of disobedience. Then he ran around and got back behind the wheel. "We're going to talk about this," he snarled before putting the Jeep back in gear and turning around on a small patch of grass.

"There's nothing to talk about. You think I'm a whore."

"Anna, you look at things from my perception and tell me what you'd think if you were in my shoes." The trip back to his house took no time at all and he pulled back into the garage, growling at her when she went to open her car door. "Stay there."

Her eyes grew wide when she saw him pull open her car door and then felt him reach in and pull her out, swinging her into his strong arms. "Your feet are a muddy mess," he said. "My housekeeper would have my head." He kicked his own shoes off on the mat by the back door before carrying her into the kitchen and setting her down on the edge of the sink. He turned on the water, directing the spray in the empty side of the sink and making sure the water wasn't too hot or too cold.

When it felt about right, he turned on the sprayer, pulling the hose out and spraying the mess off her feet before grabbing a handful of the soft soap that was in the dispenser on the sink. He soaped her feet, running his fingers between her little pink toes and over the high arches, washing every inch. Then he rinsed them again, glancing at her face when he was finished. "Sit there and I'll get a towel."

The words were an order and she would have loved to have told him to go to hell, but he wasn't giving her an option. He brought in a towel, picking up one of her feet and drying it before grabbing the other. When he was finished, he folded the towel and hung it over the cupboard to dry then gave her a hand in jumping down. "Now, we're going to talk about this."

"And if I don't want to?"

"Then you can sit and listen, but either way, I'm going to have my say."

"You already called me a whore, Quinn, what else is there to say?"

He sighed, his eyes rolling before he held out a hand to her. "Not here."

"Not here ... what?"

"I don't want to talk about it in the kitchen. We can be comfortable while we talk." He led the way back into the living room.

"Fine," she snarled. "I'll sit and I'll listen but I don't think it will make any difference." She pulled her hand out of his and walked over to the chair she'd sat on the night before, dropping her still soggy purse at her feet. "What?"

"Can we try to keep this civil?" When she shrugged, he heaved a long sigh. "You know what your father has done to my family. Give me one reason to trust the woman he raised."