An Outrageous Proposal (13 page)

“Well?” the woman urged. “If my son loved you, then would you
have him?”

Oh, she would have him so fast, his head would spin. She would
wrap herself around him and let herself drown in the glory of being loved,
really loved, by the only man she wanted. Which was about as likely to happen as
stumbling across calorie-free chocolate.

“He doesn’t, so the question is pointless.”

“But I notice you didn’t answer it.”

“Ailish…” Such a nice woman. Georgia just didn’t have the heart
to tell her that it had all been a game. A stupid, ridiculous game cooked up by
a worried son.

“You’ve a kind heart, Georgia.” Ailish rose, walked to her and
gave her a brief, hard hug. Emotion clogged Georgia’s throat. She really could
have used a hug from her own mother, so Ailish was filling a raw need at the
moment. She would have loved this woman as a mother-in-law.

Ailish pulled back then and patted Georgia’s cheek. “As I said,
you’ve a kind heart. And a strong spirit. Strong enough, I think, to shake
Sean’s world up in all the right ways.”

Georgia opened her mouth to speak, but Ailish cut her off.

“Don’t say anything else, dear. Once spoken, some words are
harder to swallow than others.” She tucked her purse beneath her arm, touched
one hand to her perfect hair and then headed for the door. “I’m glad I came
today.”

“Me, too,” Georgia said. And she was. In spite of everything,
these few minutes with Sean’s mother had eased a few of the ragged edges inside
her heart.

“I’ll see you tonight at dinner, dear.” Ailish left and the
bell over Georgia’s door tinkled into the sudden stillness.

* * *

It was cold, and the wind blowing in from the ocean was
damp. But Laura’s house was warm and bright, with a fire burning in the hearth
and Beast and Deidre curled up together in front of it. The two dogs were
inseparable, Georgia mused, watching as Beast lay his ugly muzzle down on top of
Deidre’s head.

Now here was an example of a romance between the Irish and a
Yank that had turned out well. So well that, together, the two dogs had made
puppies that would be born sometime around Christmas.

Stooping to stroke Beast’s head and scratch behind his ears,
Georgia told herself that she would adopt one of the pups and she’d have her own
Beast junior. She wouldn’t be alone then. And she could pour all the love she
had stored up to give on a puppy that would love her back.

“Thanks for that,” she murmured, and Beast turned his head just
far enough to lick her hand.

“Georgia,” Laura called, and peeked into the room from the
hallway. “Would you do me a favor and go to the wine cellar? Ronan forgot to
bring up the red he’s picked out for dinner, and I’d like it open and breathing
before Ailish gets here.”

“Sure,” she answered, straightening up. “Where is it?”

“Oh. Um,” Laura worried her bottom lip. “He, um, said he set it
out, so you should find it easily enough.”

“Motherhood’s making you a little odd, honey,” Georgia said
with a smile.

Laura grinned. “Worth every burnt-out brain cell.”

“I bet.” Georgia was still smiling as she walked down the hall
and made the turn to the stairs.

This family dinner idea of Laura’s was good, she told herself.
Nice to get out of her house. To get away from Dunley and all the well-meaning
villagers who continued to sing Sean’s praises.

As she opened the heavy oak door and stepped into the dimly lit
wine cellar, she thought she heard something behind her. Georgia turned and
looked up at Ronan as he stepped out of the shadows. “Ronan?”

He gave her an apologetic look then closed the door.

“Hey!” she called, “Ronan, what’re you doing?”

On the other side, the key turned in the lock and she grabbed
the doorknob, twisting it uselessly. If this was a joke, it was a bad one.
Slapping her hand against the door, she shouted, “Ronan, what’s going on
here?”

“’Tis for your own good, Georgia,” he called back, voice
muffled.

“
What
is?”

“I am,” Sean said from behind her.

* * *

She whirled around so fast, she nearly lost her balance.
Sean reached out to steady her but she jumped away from his touch as if he were
a leper. He buried the jolt of anger that leaped to the base of his throat and
stuffed his hands into his pockets, to keep from reaching for her again only to
be rebuffed.

“What’re you doing here?” Georgia demanded.

“Waiting for you,” he said tightly. Hell, he’d been in the
blasted wine cellar for more than an hour, awaiting her arrival for the family
dinner he’d had Laura arrange.

The cellar was cool, with what looked like miles of wooden
racks filled with every kind of wine you could imagine. Pale lights overhead
spilled down on them, creating shadows and the air was scented by the wood, by
the wine and, Sean thought…by
her.

Having Ronan lock her inside with him had been his only choice.
Otherwise the stubborn woman would have escaped him and they’d
never
say the things that had to be said.

“I’ve been waiting awhile for you. Opened a bottle of wine.
Would you like some?”

She folded her arms across her middle, pulling at the fabric of
her shirt, defining the curve of her breasts in a way that made his mouth water
for her. With supreme effort he turned from the view and poured her a glass
without waiting for her answer.

He handed it to her and she drank down half of it as if it were
medicine instead of a lovely pinot.

“What do you want, Sean?” she said, voice tight, features
closed to him.

“Five bloody minutes of your time, if it’s all the same to
you,” he answered, then took a sip of his own wine, telling himself that
he
was supposed to be the cool head here.

But looking at her as she stood in front of him, it took
everything in him to stand his ground and not grab her up and kiss her until she
forgot how furious she was with him and simply surrendered.

“Fine. Go.” She checked the dainty watch on her wrist. “Five
minutes.”

Unexpectedly, he laughed. A harsh scrape of sound that shot
from his throat like a bullet. “By God, you’re the woman for me,” he said, with
a shake of his head. “You’ll actually time me, won’t you?”

“And am,” she assured him. “Four and a half minutes now.”

“Right then.” He tossed back the rest of his wine and felt a
lovely burn of fire in its wake. Setting the glass down, he forgot all about the
words he’d practiced and blurted out, “When a man asks a woman to be his wife,
he expects better than for her to turn on him like a snake.”

She glanced at the watch again. “And when a woman hears a
proposal, she sort of expects to hear something about ‘love’ in there
somewhere.”

This was the point that had chewed at him for three days. “And
did your not-so-lamented Mike, ex-husband and all-around bastard, give you
pretty words of love?” Sean took a step closer and noted with some irritation
that she stepped back. “Did he promise to be faithful, to love you always?”

A gleam of tears swamped her eyes and in the pale light, he
watched as she ferociously blinked them back. “That was low.”

“Aye, it was,” he admitted, and cursed himself for the fool
Ronan thought him to be. But at the same time, he bristled. “I didn’t give you
the words, but I gave you the promise. And I
keep
my
promises. And if you weren’t such a stubborn twit, you’d have realized that I
wouldn’t propose unless there were feelings there.”

“Three and a half minutes,” she announced, then added, “Even
stubborn twits want to hear about those ‘feelings’ beyond ‘I’ve a caring for
you, Georgia.’”

He winced at the reminder of his own words. She’d given him
“love”; he’d given her “caring.” Maybe he was a fool. But that wasn’t the point.
“You should have known what I meant without me having to say it. Let me remind
you again that your lying, miserable ex used the word
love
and it meant nothing.”

“At least he had the courage to say it, even though his version
of love was sadly lacking!”

Her eyes were hot balls of fury and perversely, Sean was as
aroused by that as he was by everything else about her.

It tore at him, what she’d said. He
had
lacked the courage to say what he felt. But no more.

Pouring himself more wine, he took a long drink. “I won’t be
compared to a man who couldn’t see you for the treasure you are, Georgia Page.
In spite of your miserable temper and your stubbornness that makes a rock look
agreeable in comparison.”

“And I won’t be told what I should do for ‘my own good.’ Not by
you and not by the villagers you’ve no doubt
paid
to
sing your praises to me for the last three days.”

“I didn’t pay them!” He took a gulp of wine and set the glass
down again. “That was our family’s doing. I only found out about it tonight.
Ailish and Laura sent Ronan off to do their bidding. He talked to Maeve, who
then told every mother’s son and daughter for miles to go to you with tales of
my wondrousness.” He glared at her. “For all the good that seems to have
done.

“Besides,” he added, “I’ve no need to bribe anyone because
everyone else in my bloody life can plainly see what’s in my heart without a
bleeding
map!
”

“Yeah?” Georgia snapped with a glance at her watch. “Two
minutes. Well, I do need a map. So tell me. Flat out, what
is
in your heart?”

“Love!”
He threw both hands high
and let them drop again. Irritated, frustrated beyond belief, he shouted it
again. “Love! I love you. Have for weeks. Maybe longer,” he mused, “but I can’t
be sure as you’re turning me into a crazy man even as we’re standing here!”

She smiled at him and his heart turned over.

“Oh, aye,” he nodded grimly. “Now she smiles on me with
benevolence, now that she’s got me just where she wants me. Half mad with love
and desire and the crushing worry that she’ll walk away from me and leave me to
go through the rest of my life without her scent flavoring my every breath.
Without the taste of her lingering on my lips. Without the soft brush of her
skin against mine.
This
she smiles for.”

“Sean…”

“Rather than proposing, I should be committed. What I feel for
you has destroyed my control. I feel so much for you, Georgia, it’s all I can
think of, dream of. I want to
marry
you. Make a
family with you. Be your lover, your friend, the father of your children.
Because I bloody well
love
you and if you can’t see
that, then too bloody bad because I won’t be walking away from you. Ever.”

“Sean…”

“I’m not the bloody clown you once pledged yourself to,” he
added, stabbing the air with his finger as he jabbed it at her. “You’ll not
compare me to him ever again.”

“No,” she said, still smiling.

“How much time have I left?”

“One minute,” she said.

“Fine, then.” He looked into those twilight eyes, and
everything in him rushed toward the only happiness he would ever want or need.
“Here it is, all laid out for you. I love you. And you bloody well love me. And
you’re damn well going to marry me at the first opportunity. And if you don’t
like that plan, you can spend the next fifty years complaining about it to me.
But you
will
be mine. Make no mistake about
that.”

“You’re nuts,” Georgia said finally when the silence stretched
out, humming with tension, with love, with the fraught emotions tangled up
between them.

“I’ve said as much already, haven’t I?”

“You have. And I love it.”

He narrowed his gaze on her. “Is that right?”

“I do. I love everything about you, crazy man. I love how you
look at me. I love that you think you can tell me what to do.”

He scowled but, looking into her eyes, the dregs of his temper
drained away, leaving him with only the love that had near choked him since the
moment he’d first laid eyes on her.

“And I will marry you,” she said, stepping into his arms. “On
December twenty-second.”

Gathering her up close, he asked, “Why the delay?”

“Because that way, Maeve wins the pool at the pub.”

“You’re a devious girl, Georgia,” he said. “And perfect for me
in every way.”

“And don’t you forget it,” she said, grinning up at him.

“How much time have I got left?” he asked.

Never taking her gaze from his, she pulled her wristwatch off
and tossed it aside. “We’ve got all the time in the world.”

“That won’t be enough,” he whispered, and kissed her long and
deep, until all the dark places inside him turned to blinding light.

Then he lifted his head and said softly,
“Tá tú an-an croí orm.”

She smiled and smoothed her fingertips across his cheek. “What
does that mean?”

He kissed her fingers and told her, “‘You’re the very heart of
me.’”

On a sigh, Georgia whispered, “Back atcha.”

* * * * *

Keep reading for an excerpt from
Up Close and
Personal
by Maureen Child!

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