An Outrageous Proposal (2 page)

“Would it make me seem less manly to you if I admitted to sheer
terror?” he asked, as he reached into the refrigerator.

“Your manhood is safe,” Georgia assured him.

In fact, she had never known a man who needed to worry less
about his manhood than Sean Connolly. He was gorgeous, charming and oozed sex
appeal. Good thing, she thought, that she was immune. Well, nearly.

Even she, a woman who knew better, had been tempted by Sean’s
charms. Of course, it would be much better—safer—to keep him in the “friend”
zone. Starting up anything with him would not only be dangerous but awkward, as
well. Since her sister was married to his cousin, any kind of turmoil between
them could start a family war.

And there was
always
turmoil when a
man was involved, she thought with an inner sigh. But she’d learned her lesson
there. She could enjoy Sean’s company without letting herself get…involved. Her
gaze skimmed over his tall, nicely packed yet lanky body, and something inside
her sizzled like a trapped flame struggling to grow into a bonfire. She so
didn’t need that.

Nope, she told herself, just enjoy looking at him and keep your
hormones on a tight leash. When he sent her a quick wink and a wild grin,
Georgia amended that last thought to a tight,
short,
leash.

To divert herself from her own thoughts, Georgia sighed and
asked, “Isn’t she beautiful? The baby?”

“She is indeed,” Sean agreed, pulling a bottle of champagne
from the fridge and holding it aloft like a hard-won trophy. “And she has a
clever father, as well. Our Ronan’s stocked the fridge with not one but three
bottles of champagne, bless him.”

“Very thoughtful,” she agreed.

He grabbed two crystal flutes from the shelf behind the bar,
then set them down on the table and worked at the champagne wire and cork. “Did
you get hold of your parents with the news?”

“I did,” Georgia said, remembering how her mother had cried
over the phone hearing the news about her first grandchild. “I called from
Laura’s room when you took Ronan down to buy flowers. Laura got to talk to them
and they heard the baby cry.” She smiled. “Mom cried along with her. Ronan’s
already promised to fly them in whenever they’re ready.”

“That’s lovely then.” The cork popped with a cheerful sound,
and Sean poured out two glasses. Bubbling froth filled the flutes, looking like
liquid sunshine. “So, champagne?”

“Absolutely.”

She took a glass and paused when Sean said, “To Fiona Connolly.
May her life be long and happy. May she be a stranger to sorrow and a friend to
joy.”

The sting of tears burned Georgia’s eyes. Shaking her head, she
took a sip of champagne and said, “That was beautiful, Sean.”

He gave her a grin, then took her free hand in his and led her
over to one of the sofas. There, he sat her down and then went back to the bar
for the bottle of champagne. He set it on the table in front of them, then took
a seat beside Georgia on the couch.

“A hell of a day all in all, wouldn’t you say?”

“It was,” she agreed, then amended,
“is.”
Another sip of champagne and she added, “I’m tired, but I
don’t think I could close my eyes, you know? Too much leftover adrenaline
pumping away inside.”

“I feel the same,” he told her, “so it’s lucky we can keep each
other company.”

“Yeah, I guess it is,” Georgia agreed. Kicking her shoes off,
she drew her feet up onto the sofa and idly rubbed her arches.

The snap and hiss of the fire along with the patter of rain on
the window made for a cozy scene. Taking a sip of her champagne, she let her
head fall back against the couch.

“So,” Sean said a moment or two later, “tell me about this plan
of yours to move to Ireland.”

She lifted her head to look at him. His brown hair was tousled,
his brown eyes tired but interested and the half smile on his face could have
tempted a saint. Georgia took another sip of champagne, hoping the icy liquor
would dampen the heat beginning to build inside.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while,” she admitted, her
voice soft. “Actually since my last visit. When I left for home, I remember
sitting on the airplane as it was taxiing and wondering why I was leaving.”

He nodded as if he understood completely, and that settled her
enough to continue.

“I mean, you should be happy to go home after a trip, right?”
She asked the question more of herself than of Sean and answered it the same
way. “Looking forward to going back to your routine. Your everyday life. But I
wasn’t. There was just this niggling sense of disappointment that seemed to get
bigger the closer I got to home.”

“Maybe some of that was just because you were leaving your
sister,” he said quietly.

“Probably,” she admitted with a nod and another sip of
champagne. “I mean, Laura’s more than my sister, she’s my best friend.” Looking
at him, she gave him a small smile. “I really miss having her around, you
know?”

“I do,” he said, reaching for the champagne, then topping off
their glasses. “When Ronan was in California, I found I missed going to the pub
with him. I missed the laughter. And the arguments.” He grinned. “Though if you
repeat any of this, I’ll deny it to my last breath.”

“Oh, understood,” she replied with a laugh. “Anyway, I got
home, went to our—
my
—real estate office and stared
out the front window. Waiting for clients to call or come in is a long, boring
process.” She stared down into her champagne. “And while I was staring out that
window, watching the world go by, I realized that everyone outside the glass was
doing what they wanted to do. Everyone but me.”

“I thought you enjoyed selling real estate,” Sean said. “The
way Laura tells it, the two of you were just beginning to build the
business.”

“We were,” she agreed. “But it wasn’t what either of us wanted.
Isn’t that ridiculous?” Georgia shifted on the couch, half turning to face Sean
more fully.

Wow,
she thought,
he really is gorgeous.

She blinked, then looked at the champagne suspiciously. Maybe
the bubbles were infiltrating her mind, making her more susceptible to the
Connolly charm and good looks. But no, she decided a moment later, she’d always
been susceptible. Just able to resist. But now…

Georgia cleared her throat and banished her wayward thoughts.
What had she been saying? Oh, yeah.

“I mean, think about it. Laura’s an artist, and I was an
interior designer once upon a time. And yet there we were, building a business
neither of us was really interested in.”

“Why is that?” He watched her out of those beautiful brown eyes
and seemed genuinely curious. “Why would you put so much of yourselves into a
thing you’d no interest in?”

“Well, that’s the question, isn’t it?” she asked, gesturing
with her glass and cringing a little when the champagne slopped over the brim.
To help fix that situation, she sipped the contents down a bit lower. “It
started simply enough,” she continued. “Laura couldn’t make a living painting,
so she took classes and became a real estate agent because she’d rather be her
own boss, you know?”

“I do,” he said with a knowing nod.

Of course he understood that part, Georgia thought. As the
owner of Irish Air, a huge and growing airline, Sean made his own rules. Sure,
their situations were wildly different, but he would still get the feeling of
being answerable only to oneself.

“Then my marriage dissolved,” she said, the words still tasting
a little bitter. Georgia was mostly over it all, since it had been a few years
now, but if she allowed herself to remember… “I moved out to live with Laura,
and rather than try to build up a brand-new business of my own—and let’s face
it, in California, you practically stumble across an interior designer every few
steps, so they didn’t really need another one—I took classes and the two of us
opened our own company.”

Shaking her head, she drank more of the champagne and sighed.
“So basically, we both backed into a business we didn’t really want, but
couldn’t think of a way to get out of. Does that make sense?”

“Completely,” Sean told her. “What it comes down to is, you
weren’t happy.”

“
Exactly
.” She took a deep breath
and let it go again. What was it about him? she wondered. So easy to talk to. So
nice to look at, a tiny voice added from the back of her mind. Those eyes of his
seemed to look deep inside her, while the lilt of Ireland sang in his voice. A
heady combination, she warned herself. “I wasn’t happy. And, since I’m free and
on my own, why shouldn’t I move to Ireland? Be closer to my sister? Live in a
place I’ve come to love?”

“No reason a’tall,” he assured her companionably. Picking up
the champagne bottle he refilled both of their glasses again, and Georgia nodded
her thanks. “So, I’m guessing you won’t be after selling real estate here
then?”

“No, thank you,” she said on a sigh. God, it felt wonderful to
know that soon she wouldn’t have to deal with recalcitrant sellers and pushy
buyers. When people came to her for design work, they would be buying her
talent, not whatever house happened to be on the market.

“I’m going to open my own design shop. Of course, I’ll have to
check everything out first, see what I have to do to get a business license in
Ireland and to have my interior design credentials checked. And I’ll have to
have a house…”

“You could always stay here,” he said with a shrug. “I’m sure
Ronan and Laura would love to have you here with them, and God knows the place
is big enough…”

“It is that,” she mused, shifting her gaze around the parlor of
the luxurious manor house. In fact, the lovely old house was probably big enough
for two or three families. “But I’d rather have a home of my own. My own place,
not too far. I’m thinking of opening my shop in Dunley…”

Sean choked on a sip of champagne, then laughed a second later.
“
Dunley?
You want to open a design shop in the
village?
”

Irritated, she scowled at him. And he’d been doing so nicely on
the understanding thing, too. “What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, let’s just say I can’t see Danny Muldoon hiring you to
give the Pennywhistle pub a makeover anytime soon.”

“Funny,” she muttered.

“Ah now,” Sean said, smile still firmly in place, “don’t get
yourself in a twist. I’m only saying that perhaps the city might be a better
spot for a design shop.”

Still frowning, she gave him a regal half nod. “Maybe. But
Dunley is about halfway between Galway and Westport—two big cities, you’ll
agree—”

“I do.”

“So, the village is centrally located, and I’d rather be in a
small town than a big one anyway. And I can buy a cottage close by and walk to
work. Living in the village, I’ll be a part of things as I wouldn’t if I lived
in Galway and only visited on weekends.
And,
” she
added, on a roll, “I’d be close to Laura to visit or help with the baby. Not to
mention—”

“You’re right, absolutely.” He held up both hands, then noticed
his champagne glass was nearly empty. He refilled his, and hers, and then lifted
his glass in a toast. “I’m sorry I doubted you for a moment. You’ve thought this
through.”

“I really have,” she said, a little mellower now, thanks not
only to the wine, but to the gleam of admiration in Sean’s gaze. “I want to do
this. I’m
going
to do this,” she added, a promise to
herself and the universe at large.

“And so you will, I’ve no doubt,” Sean told her, leaning
forward. “To the start of more than
one
new life
this day. I wish you happiness, Georgia, with your decision and your shop.”

“Thanks,” she said, clinking her glass against his, making the
heavy crystal sing. “I appreciate it.”

When they’d both had a sip to seal the toast, Sean mused, “So
we’ll be neighbors.”

“We will.”

“And friends.”

“That, too,” she agreed, feeling just a little unsettled by his
steady stare and the twisting sensation in the pit of her stomach.

“And as your friend,” Sean said softly, “I think I should tell
you that when you’re excited about something, your eyes go as dark as a twilight
sky.”

Two

“W
hat?”

Sean watched the expression on her face shift from confusion to
a quick flash of desire that was born and then gone again in a blink. But he’d
seen it, and his response to it was immediate.

“Am I making you nervous, Georgia?”

“No,” she said and he read the lie in the way she let her gaze
slide from his. After taking another sip of champagne, she licked a stray drop
from her lip, and Sean’s insides fisted into knots.

Odd, he’d known Georgia for about a year now and though he’d
been attracted, he’d never before been tempted. Now he was. Most definitely.
Being here with her in the fire-lit shadows while rain pattered at the windows
was, he thought, more than tempting. There was an intimacy here, two people who
had shared a hellishly long day together. Now, in the quiet shadows, there was
something new and…compelling rising up between them.

He knew she felt it, too, despite the wary gleam in her eyes as
she watched him. Still, he wanted her breathless, not guarded, so he eased back
and gave her a half smile. “I’m only saying you’re a beautiful woman,
Georgia.”

“Hmm…” She tipped her head to one side, studying him.

“Surely it’s not the first time you’ve heard that from a
man.”

“Oh, no,” she answered. “Men actually chase me down the street
to tell me I have twilight eyes.”

He grinned. He did appreciate a quick wit. “Maybe I’m just more
observant than most men.”

“And maybe you’re up to something,” she said thoughtfully.
“What is it, Sean?”

“Not a thing,” he said, all innocence.

“Well, that’s good.” She nodded and reached down absently to
rub at the arch of her foot. “I mean, we both know anything else would just
be…complicated.”

“Aye, it would at that,” he agreed, and admitted silently that
complicated might be worth it. “Your feet hurt?”

“What?” She glanced down to where her hand rubbed the arch of
her right foot and smiled ruefully. “Yeah, they do.”

“A long day of standing, wasn’t it?”

“It was.”

She sipped at her champagne and a log shifted in the fire. As
the flames hissed and spat, she closed her eyes—a little dreamily, he thought,
and he felt that fist inside him tighten even further. The woman was unknowingly
seducing him.

Logic and a stern warning sounded out in his mind, and he
firmly shut them down. There was a time for a cool head, and there was a time
for finding out just where the road you found yourself on would end up. So far,
he liked this particular road very much.

He set his glass on the table in front of them, then sat back
and dragged her feet onto his lap. Georgia looked at him and he gave her a quick
grin. “I’m offering a one-night-only special. A foot rub.”

“Sean…”

He knew what she was thinking because his own mind was running
along the same paths. Back up—or, stay the course and see what happened. As she
tried to draw her feet away, he held them still in his lap and pushed his thumbs
into her arch.

She groaned and let her head fall back and he knew he had
her.

“Oh, that feels too good,” she whispered, as he continued to
rub and stroke her skin.

“Just enjoy it for a bit then,” he murmured.

That had her lifting her head to look at him with the wariness
back, glinting in those twilight depths. “What’re you up to?”

“Your ankles,” he said, sliding his hands higher to match his
words. “Give me a minute, though, and ask again.”

She laughed as he’d meant her to, and the wariness edged off a
bit.

“So,” she asked a moment later, “why do I rate a foot rub
tonight?”

“I’m feeling generous, just becoming an uncle and all.” He
paused, and let that settle. Of course, he and Ronan weren’t actually brothers,
but they might as well have been. “Not really an uncle, but that’s how it
feels.”

“You’re an uncle,” she told him. “You and Ronan are every bit
as tight as Laura and I are.”

“True,” he murmured, and rubbed his thumb into the arches of
her small, narrow feet. Her toes were painted a dark pink, and he smiled at the
silver toe ring she wore on her left foot.

She sighed heavily and whispered, “Oh, my…you’ve got great
hands.”

“So I’ve been told,” he said on a laugh. He slid his great
hands a bit higher, stroking her ankles and then up along the line of her
calves. Her skin was soft, smooth and warm, now that the fire had chased away
the chill of the afternoon.

“Maybe it’s the champagne talking,” she said softly, “but what
you’re doing feels way too good.”

“’Tisn’t the champagne,” he told her, meeting her eyes when she
looked at him. “We’ve not had enough yet to blur the lines between us.”

“Then it’s the fire,” she whispered, “and the rain outside
sealing us into this pretty room together.”

“Could be,” he allowed, sliding his hands even higher now,
stroking the backs of her knees and watching her eyes close as she sighed. “And
it could just be that you’re a lovely thing, here in the firelight, and I’m
overcome.”

She snorted and he grinned in response.

“Oh, yes, overcome,” she said, staring into his eyes again, as
if trying to see the plans he had, the plans he might come up with. “Sean
Connolly, you’re a man who always knows what he’s doing. So answer me this. Are
you trying to seduce me?”

“Ah, the shoe is on the other foot entirely, Georgia,” he
murmured, his fingertips moving higher still, up her thighs, inch by inch. He
hadn’t thought of it earlier, but now he was grateful she’d been wearing a skirt
for their mad ride to the hospital. Made things so much simpler.

“Right,” she said. “I’m seducing you? You’re the one giving out
foot rubs that have now escalated—” her breath caught briefly before she
released it on a sigh “—to
thigh
rubs.”

“And do you like it?”

“I’d be a fool not to,” she admitted, and he liked her even
more for her straightforwardness.

“Well then…”

“But the question remains,” she said, reaching down to capture
one of his hands in hers, stilling his caresses. “If you’re seducing me, I have
to ask, why now? We’ve known each other for so long, Sean, and we’ve never—”

“True enough,” he murmured, “but this is the first time we’ve
been alone, isn’t it?” He set her hand aside and continued to stroke the
outsides of her thighs before slowly edging around to the inside.

She squirmed, and he went hard as stone.

“Think of it, Georgia,” he continued, though his voice was
strained and it felt as though there were a rock lodged in his throat. “’Tis
just us here for the night. No Ronan, no Laura, no Patsy, running in and out
with her tea trays. Even the dogs are in the kitchen sleeping.”

Georgia laughed a little. “You’re right. I don’t think I’ve
ever been in this house alone before. But…”

“No buts,” he interrupted, then leaned out and picked up the
champagne bottle. Refilling her glass and then his own, he set the bottle down
again and lifted his glass with one hand while keeping her feet trapped in his
lap with the other. “I think we need more of this, then we’ll…
talk
about this some more.”

“After enough champagne, we won’t want to talk at all,” she
said, though she sipped at the wine anyway.

“And isn’t that a lovely thought?” he asked, giving her a wink
as he drained his glass.

She was watching him, and her eyes were filled with the same
heat that burned inside him. For the life of him, Sean couldn’t figure out how
he’d managed to keep his hands off of her for the past year or more. Right now,
the desire leaping inside him had him hard and eager for the taste of her. The
feel of her beneath his hands. He wanted to hear her sigh, hear her call his
name as she erupted beneath him. Wanted to bury himself inside her heat and feel
her surrounding him.

“That look in your eyes tells me exactly what you’re thinking,”
Georgia said, and this time she took a long drink of champagne.

“And are you thinking the same?” he asked.

“I shouldn’t be.”

“That wasn’t the question.”

Never breaking her gaze from his, Georgia blew out a breath and
admitted, “Okay, yes, I’m thinking the same.”

“Thank the gods for that,” he said, a smile curving his
mouth.

She chuckled, and the sound was rich and full. “I think you’ve
got more in common with the devils than you do with the gods.”

“Isn’t that a lovely thing to say then?” he quipped. Reaching
out, he plucked the champagne flute from her hand and set it onto the table.

“I wasn’t finished,” she told him.

“We’ll have more later.
After,
” he
promised.

She took a deep breath and said, “This is probably a mistake,
you know.”

“Aye, probably is. Would you have us stop then, before we get
started?” He hoped to hell she said no, because if she said yes, he’d have to
leave. And right now, leaving was the very last thing he wanted to do.

“I really should say yes, because we absolutely should stop.
Probably,” she said quietly.

He liked the hesitation in that statement. “But?”

“But,”
she added, “I’m tired of
being sensible. I want you to touch me, Sean. I think I’ve wanted that right
from the beginning, but we were being too sensible for me to admit to it.”

He pulled her up and over to him, settling her on his lap where
she’d be sure to feel the hard length of him pressing into her bottom. “You can
readily see that I feel the same.”

“Yeah,” she said, turning her face up to his. “I’m getting
that.”

“Not yet,” he teased, “but you’re about to.”

“Promises, promises…”

“Well then, enough talking, yes?”

“Oh, yes.”

He kissed her, softly at first, a brush of the lips, a
connection that was as swift and sweet as innocence. It was a tease. Something
short to ease them both into this new wrinkle in their relationship.

But with that first kiss, something incredible happened. Sean
felt a jolt of white-hot electricity zip through him in an instant. His eyes
widened as he looked at her, and he knew the surprise he read on her face was
also etched on his own.

“That was… Let’s just see if we can make that happen again,
shall we?”

She nodded and arched into him, parting her lips for him when
he kissed her, and this time Sean fed that electrical jolt that sizzled between
them. He deepened the kiss, tangling his tongue with hers, pulling her closer,
tighter, to him. Her arms came up around his neck and held on. She kissed him
back, feverishly, as if every ounce of passion within her had been unleashed at
once.

She stabbed her fingers through his hair, nails dragging along
his scalp. She twisted on his lap, rubbing her behind against his erection until
a groan slid from his throat. The glorious friction of her body against his
would only get better, he thought, if he could just get her out of these bloody
clothes.

He broke the kiss and dragged in a breath of air, hoping to
steady the racing beat of his heart. It didn’t help. Nothing would. Not until
he’d had her, all of her. Only then would he be able to douse the fire inside.
To cool the need and regain his control.

But for now, all he needed was her. Georgia Page, temptress
with eyes of twilight and a mouth designed to drive a man wild.

“You’ve too many clothes on,” he muttered, dropping his hands
to the buttons on her dark blue shirt.

“You, too,” she said, tugging the tail of his white,
long-sleeved shirt free of the black jeans he wore. She fumbled at the buttons
and then laughed at herself. “Can’t get them undone, damn it.”

“No need,” he snapped and, gripping both sides of his shirt,
ripped it open, sending small white buttons flying around the room like tiny
missiles.

She laughed again and slapped both palms to his chest. At the
first touch of her skin to his, Sean hissed in a breath and held it. He savored
every stroke, every caress, while she explored his skin as if determined to map
every inch of him.

He was willing to lie still for that exploration, too, as long
as he could do the same for her. He got the last of her buttons undone and slid
her shirt off her shoulders and down her arms. She helped him with it, and then
her skin was bared to him, all but her lovely breasts, hidden behind the pale,
sky-blue lace of her bra. His mouth went dry.

Tossing her honey-blond hair back from her face, Georgia met
his gaze as she unhooked the front clasp of that bra and then slipped out of it
completely. Sean’s hands cupped her, his thumbs and forefingers brushing across
the rigid peaks of her dark pink nipples until she sighed and cupped his hands
with her own.

“You’re lovely, Georgia. More lovely than I’d imagined,” he
whispered, then winked. “And my imagination was pretty damned good.”

She grinned, then whispered, “My turn.” She pushed his shirt
off and skimmed her small, elegant hands slowly over his shoulders and arms, and
every touch was a kiss of fire. Every caress a temptation.

He leaned over, laying her back on the sofa until she was
staring up at him. Firelight played over her skin, light and shadow dancing in
tandem, making her seem almost ethereal. But she was a real woman with a real
need, and Sean was the man to meet it.

Deftly, he undid the waist button and the zipper of the skirt
she wore, then slowly tugged the fabric down and off before tossing it to the
floor. She wore a scrap of blue lace panties that were somehow even more erotic
than seeing her naked would have been. Made him want to take that elastic band
between his teeth and—

“Sean!” She half sat up and for a dark second or two, Sean was
worried she’d changed her mind at the last. The thought of that nearly brought
him to his knees.

“What is it?”

“Protection,” she said. “I’m not on the pill, and I don’t
really travel with condoms.” Worrying her bottom lip with her teeth, she
blurted, “Maybe Ronan’s got some old ones upstairs…”