Читать книгу An Outrageous Proposal - Maureen Child - Страница 8

“What?”

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 …”

“No need,” he said and stood. “I’ve some in the glove box of the car.”

She just looked at him. “You keep condoms in the glove compartment?”

Truthfully, he hadn’t used any of the stash he kept there for emergencies in longer than he cared to admit. There hadn’t been a woman for him in months. Maybe, he thought now, it was because he’d been too tangled up in thoughts of twilight eyes and kissable lips. Well, he didn’t much care for the sound of that, so he told himself that maybe he’d just been too bloody busy getting his airline off the ground, so to speak.

“Pays to be prepared,” was all he said.

Georgia’s lips twitched. “I didn’t realize Ireland had Boy Scouts.”

“What?”

“Never mind,” she whispered, lifting her hips and pulling her panties off. “Just … hurry.”

“I bloody well will.” He scraped one hand across his face, then turned and bolted for the front door. It cost him to leave her, even for the few moments this necessary trip would take.

He was through the front door and out to his car in a blink. He hardly felt the misting rain as it covered him in an icy, wet blanket. The night was quiet; the only light came from that of the fire within the parlor, a mere echo of light out here, battling and losing against the darkness and the rain.

He tore through the glove box, grabbed the box of condoms and slammed the door closed again. Back inside the house, he staggered to a stop on the threshold of the parlor. She’d moved from the couch, and now she lay stretched out, naked, on the rug before the fire, her head on one of the countless pillows she’d brought down there with her.

Sean’s gaze moved over her in a flash and then again, more slowly, so he could savor everything she was. Mouth dry, heartbeat hammering in his chest, he thought he’d never seen a more beautiful picture than the one she made in the firelight.

“You’re wet,” she whispered.

Sean shoved one hand through his rain-soaked hair, then shrugged off his shirt. “Hadn’t noticed.”

“Cold?” she asked, and levered herself up on one elbow to watch him.

The curve of her hip, the swell of her breasts and the heat in her eyes all came together to flash into an inferno inside him. “Cold? Not likely.”

Never taking his gaze from hers, he pulled off the rest of his clothes and simply dropped them onto the colorful rug beneath his feet. He went to her, laser-focused on the woman stretched out beside him on the carpet in the firelight.

She reached up and cupped his cheek before smiling. “I thought we’d have more room down here than on the couch.”

“Very sensible,” he muttered, kissing her palm then dipping to claim her lips in a brief, hard kiss. “Nothing more sexy than a smart woman.”

“Always nice to hear.” She grinned and moved into him, pressing her mouth to his. Opening for him, welcoming the taste of him as he devoured her. Bells clanged in his mind, warning or jubilation he didn’t care which.

All that mattered now was the next touch. The next taste. She filled him as he’d never been filled before and all Sean could think was Why had it taken them so bloody long to do this?

Then his thoughts dissolved under an onslaught of sensations that flooded his system. He tore his mouth from hers to nibble at the underside of her jaw. To drag lips and tongue along the line of her throat while she sighed with pleasure and slid her hands up and down his back.

She was soft, smooth and smelled of flowers, and every breath he took drew her deeper inside him. He lost himself in the discovery of her, sliding his palms over her curves. He took first one nipple, then the other, into his mouth, tasting, suckling, driving her sighs into desperate gasps for air. She touched him, too, sliding her hands across his back and around to his chest and then down, to his abdomen. Then further still, until she curled her fingers around his length and Sean lifted his head, looked down into her eyes and let her see what she was doing to him.

Firelight flickered, rain spattered against the windows and the wind rattled the glass.

Her breath came fast and heavy. His heart galloped in his chest. Reaching for the condoms he’d tossed to the hearth, he tore one packet open, sheathed himself, then moved to kneel between her legs.

She planted her feet and lifted her hips in invitation and Sean couldn’t wait another damn minute. He needed this. Needed her as he’d never needed anything before.

Scooping his hands beneath her butt, he lifted her and, in one swift push, buried himself inside her.

Her head fell back, and a soft moan slid from her lips. His jaw tight, he swallowed the groan trying to escape his throat. Then she wrapped her legs around his middle, lifted her arms and drew him in deeper, closer. He bent over her and kissed her as the rhythm of this ancient, powerful dance swept them both away.

They moved together as if they’d been partners for years. Each seemed to know instinctively what would most touch, most inflame, the other. Their shadows moved on the walls and the night crowded closer as Sean pushed Georgia higher and higher.

His gaze locked with hers, he watched her eyes flash, felt her body tremble as her release exploded inside her. Lost himself in the pleasure glittering in her twilight eyes and then, finally, his control snapped completely. Taking her mouth with his, he kissed her deeply as his body shattered.

Georgia felt … fabulous.

Heat from the fire warmed her on one side, while Sean’s amazing body warmed her from the other. And of the two, she preferred the heat pumping from the tall, gorgeous man laying beside her.

Turning to face him, she smiled. “That was—”

“Aye, it was,” he agreed.

“Worth waiting for,” she confessed.

He skimmed a palm along the curve of her hip and she shivered. “And I was just wondering why in the hell we waited as long as we did.”

“Worried about complications, remember?” she asked, and only now felt the first niggling doubt about whether or not they’d done the right thing. Probably not, she mused, but it was hard to regret any of it.

“There’s always complications to good sex,” he said softly, “and that wasn’t just good, it was—”

“Yeah,” she said, “it was.”

“So the question arises,” he continued, smoothing his hand now across her bottom, “what do we do about this?”

She really hadn’t had time to consider all the options, and Georgia was a woman who spent most of her life looking at any given situation from every angle possible. Well, until tonight anyway. Now, her brain was scrambling to come up with coherent thoughts in spite of the fact that her body was still buzzing and even now hoping for more.

Still, one thing did come to mind, though she didn’t much care for it. “We could just stop whatever this is. Pretend tonight never happened and go back to the way things were.”

“And is that what you really want to do?” he asked, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her mouth.

She licked her lips as if to savor the taste of him, then sighed and shook her head. “No, I really don’t. But those complications will only get worse if we keep doing this.”

“Life is complicated, Georgia,” he said, smoothing his hand around her body to tug playfully at one nipple.

She sucked in a gulp of air and blew it out again. “True.”

“And, pretending it didn’t happen won’t work, as every time I see you, I’ll want to do this again …”

“There is that,” she said, reaching out to smooth his hair back from his forehead. Heck, she already wanted to do it all again. Feel that moment when his body slid into hers. Experience the sensation of his body filling hers completely. That indescribable friction that only happened when sex was done really well. And this so had been.

His eyes in the firelight glittered as if there were sparks dancing in their depths, and Georgia knew she was a goner. At least for now, anyway. She might regret it all later, but if she did, she would still walk away with some amazing memories.

“So,” he said softly, “we’ll take the complications as they come and do as we choose?”

“Yes,” she said after giving the thought of never being with him again no more than a moment’s consideration. “We’ll take the complications. We’re adults. We know what we’re doing.”

“We certainly seemed to a few minutes ago,” he said with a teasing grin.

“Okay, then. No strings. No expectations. Just … us. For however long it lasts.”

“Sounds good.” He pushed himself to his feet and walked naked to the table where they’d abandoned their wineglasses and the now nearly empty bottle of champagne.

“What’re you doing?”

He passed her the glasses as she sat up, then held the empty bottle aloft. “I’m going to open another of Ronan’s fine bottles of champagne. The first we drank to our new and lovely Fiona. The second we’ll drink to us. And the bargain we’ve just made.”

She looked up at him, her gaze moving over every square inch of that deliciously toned and rangy body. He looked like some pagan god, doused in firelight, and her breath stuttered in her chest. She could only nod to his suggestion because her throat was so suddenly tight with need, with passion, with … other things she didn’t even want to contemplate.

Sean Connolly wasn’t a forever kind of man—but, Georgia reminded herself as she watched him move to the tiny refrigerator and open it, she wasn’t looking for forever. She’d already tried that and had survived the crash-and-burn. Sure, he wasn’t the man her ex had been. But why even go there? Why try to make more out of this than it was? Great sex didn’t have to be forever.

And as a right-now kind of man, Sean was perfect.