‘Well?’
She nodded. ‘There’s a secret drawer…’ She looked at her father. ‘I don’t even know if there’s anything in it.’
‘Open it,’ he said.
Her eyes filled with anguish. ‘It’s wrong,’ she whispered. ‘I can’t just…’
‘What happens to me will be on your conscience for ever.’
She swallowed. ‘All right,’ she said softly. ‘Wait in the hall.’ She closed the library door after him and then walked slowly to Quinn’s campaign table. Carefully, she lifted and twisted the brass corner gusset. It moved easily, and the concealed drawer sprang open.
There were several envelopes stacked neatly inside. The first held papers, the second Quinn’s passport. Her heart skipped a beat when she came to the third.
The envelope contained money. American banknotes. She took them out and counted them. Eight, nine, ten thousand dollars.
Paige put the bills on the table and stared at them. How could she take this money? It was wrong. Until last night, she’d been Quinn’s wife in name only. Whatever uneasy beginning they’d made might be wasted if she did this. She bowed her head. If only he were here.
But he wasn’t. Her father had crossed an ocean to tell her his life was in danger. She riffled through the bills again. Would the money itself be important to Quinn? She doubted it. Her husband was wealthy—he’d spent as much money as she held in her hand right now the afternoon he’d taken her shopping.
What it came to was that she’d be taking the money without his knowledge or his permission. Stealing it. That was what she’d be doing—stealing it, and giving it to her father, a man Quinn had already once protected. But what choice did she have? She couldn’t let her father be hurt. Certainly, Quinn would understand that.
She took a deep breath and opened the library door. ‘Here,’ she said, thrusting the banknotes at her father. ‘Now, leave and never come to me for help again.’
Her father let out his breath. ‘Thank you, dear child. Thank you. I swear, once I’m out of this, it’ll never happen again.’ He looked at his wristwatch. ‘If I hurry, I can just make the next flight back. Would you phone for a taxi?’
The thought of having to make small talk while her father waited for a cab made her stomach knot. It seemed easier to bundle him into Quinn’s Jaguar and drive him to the airport herself.
‘I’ll take you,’ she said, snatching her coat from the rack. ‘Quinn left his car. It’s in the garage.’
Her father cleared his throat. ‘Paige?’ She paused, hand on the doorknob, and he ran his tongue over his lips. ‘I know I haven’t b
een the kind of father I might have been,’ he said gruffly. ‘But… but I love you, girl. I just wanted you to know that.’
He put his arms around her. The simple action stunned her. Had he ever hugged her before? If he had, she couldn’t remember it. She stood still within his embrace and then, hesitantly, she put her arms around his neck.
‘I… I love you too, Daddy,’ she whispered.
A cold gust of air swept over them as the front door opened. Paige and her father sprang apart. The housekeeper stood in the open doorway, staring at them.
‘Norah,’ Paige said. ‘I… I didn’t expect you until this evening.’
The housekeeper lifted an eyebrow. ‘So I see, ma’am. I thought I’d come back a bit early.’ Her chin rose. ‘I take it Mr Fowler’s not here.’
‘Quinn?’ Paige felt a surge of colour in her cheeks. ‘No, no, he’s… he’s away. This is…’ She turned to introduce her father, but then she thought better of it. There would be questions she didn’t have time to answer. ‘We were just on our way out.’
Norah sniffed. ‘Indeed.’
Paige nodded. ‘Yes. We’re… we’re in a rush, so if you’d just…’
The housekeeper stepped aside. ‘What shall I tell Mr Fowler if he calls?’
‘Tell him that…’ Paige hesitated. ‘Just tell him I’ve gone out,’ she said finally.
Norah’s mouth tightened. ‘I understand, ma’am.’
‘I don’t know when I’ll be back. Late, probably.’
The housekeeper sniffed again. ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘yes, I can imagine.’