Part 17 (1/2)
By the time Morgan returned to the living room a little more than half an hour later, she felt much better physically. She'd washed away the dirt of the fire escape and the memory of chloroform, carefully rubbed liniment on her sore ankle (the skin wasn't broken, but there was a nasty bruise), and thought about all he'd told her tonight.
The only certainty she had reached when she returned to him was the rueful knowledge that she had fallen for an extremely complex man she might never fully understand even after a lifetime of knowing him. On the other hand, he was also the most intriguing, baffling, maddening, exciting man she'd ever known, and impossibly s.e.xy to boot.
None of that was a revelation, of course, except for her acceptance of her own feelings. And, being Morgan, once she accepted them, that particular struggle was over. After all, what was the use of kicking and screaming about something beyond one's power to change? She might be the last woman in the world who should have fallen for a famous cat burglar, but the fact remained that she had had.
Dealing with it was the issue now.
After careful thought, Morgan very deliberately dressed in a loose and comfortable outfit consisting of baggy sweatpants and sweats.h.i.+rt, with her only pair of bedroom slippers (ridiculously fuzzy things) on her feet. Hardly s.e.xy attire. She had no intention of throwing herself at him yet again and trusted that he would get the point.
Being Quinn, of course, he did.
”Where did you get the blanket?” she asked calmly as she limped back into the living room. The blanket had been folded up and placed over the back of a chair, catching her attention when she came in.
He had been on the couch, looking rather broodingly at an old black-and-white movie on television, and got to his feet as soon as she spoke. His gaze scanned her from head to toe, and a faint gleam was born in the green eyes.
”Jared brought it when I called him to come relieve me on watch,” he answered.
”Ah. I wondered.”
”Feeling better?”
”Heaps. Don't I look it?”
”Fis.h.i.+ng, Morgana?”
”Curious.”
He smiled. ”I get the point, if that's what you're wondering. But I think I should tell you that you'd look s.e.xy draped in sackcloth.”
She eased down on the other end of the couch and looked up at him expressionlessly. ”I always wondered what that was. Sackcloth, I mean.”
”A very rough, coa.r.s.e cloth.”
”That was what I thought. But I wasn't sure. Did you happen to earn a college degree in the history of fas.h.i.+on?”
”No.”
Morgan waited, one eyebrow rising, and Quinn suddenly uttered a low laugh.
”Actually, I have a law degree.”
For an instant she wanted to laugh but managed to control the impulse. ”I see. Well, at least you completely understood the laws you were breaking.”
”I'll get the coffee,” Quinn said, retreating.
Morgan smiled to herself, then searched among the pillows on the couch for the remote and turned the television off. When he returned, she accepted her cup and sipped the hot liquid cautiously. ”I won't be worth shooting tomorrow,” she commented as he sat down a foot or so away from her.
”You mean today.” He glanced at her, then said, ”I talked to Jared while you were in the shower and asked him to fill in the others in the morning. So they probably won't expect you to show up on time. If at all.”
”I guess they had to know, huh?”
”I think so.” Quinn gazed into his coffee cup as if it held the secrets of the universe. ”If that was was Nightshade who put you to sleep, he's getting either nervous or suspicious-and either way could mean it's likely that he'll make his move soon.” Nightshade who put you to sleep, he's getting either nervous or suspicious-and either way could mean it's likely that he'll make his move soon.”
There were still several questions Morgan wanted to ask about all this-things that bothered her in a sort of vague, indeterminate way-but she chose not to ask them right now for two reasons: first, because she was more than ready to focus on their relations.h.i.+p and, second, because she had a hunch he would tell her more if allowed to do so in his own way.
While all that was floating through her mind, he leaned forward to set his cup on the coffee table and then half turned toward her as he sat back.
”Morgana?”
She looked at him, finding his expression very serious.
”I wasn't trying to use your feelings to distract you. At least . . . not consciously. I didn't particularly want you to ask questions about what I was doing at night, but we both know I'm capable of lying if I have to.”
”So you would have lied to me.”
”Yes,” he replied without hesitation. ”If I believed it was something you didn't need to know about or, worse, would put you in danger if you knew.” He drew a breath. ”It seemed safest to keep you occupied during the day, and since it was definitely not a hards.h.i.+p-”
”You must have lost sleep doing it. Being Quinn every night and Alex during the day.”
”Some, but nothing I can't handle. Morgan, I hope you understand. There are things I didn't want to have to explain-not yet anyway-and I knew d.a.m.ned well that if you concentrated that sharp mind of yours on what I was doing at night, you'd figure out more than I wanted you to know.”
”Thanks for the compliment,” she said. ”But I've a feeling your little plan is so twisty I wouldn't be able to find my way through it with a road map.”
He smiled slightly. ”Maybe not. I think I've taken a few turns blindly myself. That happens when you have to improvise without warning.”
”Is that what you've been doing? Improvising?”
”As you said-I hadn't counted on you. I hadn't counted on being . . . distracted. Still, I thought I could handle it. Then when I came to you after I was shot, not out of reason or logic but just because . . . because I had an overwhelming need to be with you, I knew I was in trouble. And I knew I didn't have a hope in h.e.l.l of keeping you in a nice, safe little compartment of my life-even to protect you.”
Morgan resisted the urge to ask him to define his feelings for her a bit more clearly; she was determined not to prod him to say anything he wasn't ready to divulge on his own. ”Protect me from what?”
”From all the risks involved in what I'm doing.” He sounded frustrated. ”G.o.ddammit, Nightshade kills kills people, don't you understand that? Without a second thought or even an instant's hesitation, he kills anyone who gets in his way. I don't want you in his way, Morgana. I don't want him to even imagine you could be a problem. It's bad enough that you're publicly linked with me at all; the closer you are to me, the closer you are to people, don't you understand that? Without a second thought or even an instant's hesitation, he kills anyone who gets in his way. I don't want you in his way, Morgana. I don't want him to even imagine you could be a problem. It's bad enough that you're publicly linked with me at all; the closer you are to me, the closer you are to him him-visible to him and drawing his attention. Besides that, considering how many times you've already charged into dangerous situations-”
”Just that one time, when I followed those men who had you,” she objected. ”You can't count the first time, because I was there by accident; my date took me to that museum in all innocence.” Then she frowned. ”Well, maybe not innocence-but you know what I mean.”
”What about tonight?”
”That hadn't happened yet, so don't use it as an excuse.”
He almost-but not quite-laughed. It was actually more a sound of despair.
”All right, but even then it's been obvious all along that you're too impulsive for your own good. And I could hardly count on my my good sense where you're concerned; I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. Seeing you openly as Alex Brandon seemed the best way. But it meant Nightshade would have to know I was interested in you, and his awareness of that was enough of a risk. I didn't want you getting involved with my-my nighttime activities. So I thought that being Alex during the day and being openly interested in you would both make you seem unthreatening to Nightshade and distract your attention from what I was doing at night.” good sense where you're concerned; I knew that I wouldn't be able to stay away from you. Seeing you openly as Alex Brandon seemed the best way. But it meant Nightshade would have to know I was interested in you, and his awareness of that was enough of a risk. I didn't want you getting involved with my-my nighttime activities. So I thought that being Alex during the day and being openly interested in you would both make you seem unthreatening to Nightshade and distract your attention from what I was doing at night.”
Morgan blinked. There were several things bothering her about all that, but one realization was uppermost in her mind. ”Wait a minute. Are you saying that you went public just because of me? It wasn't part of your plan to find Nightshade?”
”I'd already found Nightshade,” he admitted reluctantly. ”And for G.o.d's sake, don't tell Jared-he'd shoot me.”