Free Harlequin Special Edition October 2015, Box Set 1 of 2 by Christine Rimmer Page A

of my opponents in advance. I see the whole picture, I guess you could say. And that makes me more willing to follow my instincts. So I was good at karate, and finally being good at something was damn motivating. It got me going, gave me hope. I was driven to excel.” He took her hand then and wove his fingers with hers.
    It felt so good, her hand in his. She held on tight. “Answer me a question...”
    â€œName it.”
    â€œYou seemed nervous about telling me this. Were you?”
    He squeezed her fingers. “Yeah, I was.”
    â€œBut I can’t see why you would be, not after the way your life’s worked out.”
    â€œThere’s more. And you need to hear it.”
    She
needed
to hear it? She almost asked him why, but then decided that the whys could wait. “All right...”
    â€œDyslexia is often genetic.”
    She frowned. “So you’re telling me that Annabelle is dyslexic?”
    â€œNo. So far, Annabelle shows none of the signs. Already, she can recognize her alphabet and sound out simple words. But you should know that any child of mine could possibly be dyslexic.”
    She
should know? It was an odd way to phrase it.
    And he still had more to say. “I plan to be proactive. If a kid of mine showed signs of dyslexia, I would be on it, arranging for early testing, providing alternative learning systems and support, working with the school so everyone’s on the same page about what needs to be done. If one of my kids was dyslexic, I would see to it that he didn’t have to go through the crap I went through. I would make sure any kid of mine never had to feel stupid and incompetent and lag way behind the learning curve.” He tipped his head then and asked with wry good humor, “You still with me, Chloe?”
    â€œAbsolutely. Yes. And I’m so sorry, Quinn. That you felt stupid and incompetent when you were little. No child should have to feel that way.”
    â€œI got past it.”
    â€œThat doesn’t make it right.” At his chuckle, she chided, “It’s nothing to joke about, Quinn.”
    He shrugged. “Tell me something.”
    She had that odd feeling again; there was more going on here than she was picking up. “Of course.”
    He let go of her hand, reached for his coffee—and said just what she’d been thinking. “Do you have any clue why I’m laying all this on you?”
    She watched him take a sip. “Whatever your reasons, I have to say it’s really nice to have a guy just sit right down and talk to me about the toughest things. It’s rare.”
    â€œRight.” He set the cup down again and rolled one of his unbuttoned cuffs to the elbow. “It’s what women love. A guy who won’t shut up...”
    â€œI don’t know about ‘women.’ But I know what
I
like. And you telling me about what matters to you, about what made you who you are? I do like that. A lot.”
    â€œWell, all right.” He rolled the other cuff. She watched him, admiring the hard shape of his arms, thick with muscle, roped with tendons, dusted with light brown hair, nicked here and there with small white ridges of scar tissue. He went on, “But I do have a reason for loading you up with way more info than you asked for.”
    â€œAnd I keep trying to make you see that you don’t
need
a reason.”
    He slanted her a teasing look. “Got that.”
    A low laugh escaped her. “Well, okay, then. I get it. You’re trying to tell me the reason—so go ahead. I’m ready for it.”
    â€œYou sure?”
    She groaned and executed a major eye roll. “Will you
please
stop teasing me?”
    Now he looked at her so steadily, a look that made her warm all over, especially down in the center of her. “All right.” And then, just like that, he said, “I want to marry you, Chloe.”

Chapter Five
    Q uinn wasn’t finished. “I want