His Seductive Proposal: A Touch of Persuasion / Terms of Engagement / An Outrageous Proposal

Eleven

Kieran waited, amused and impatient, as Olivia fumbled with the condom. The earnest intent on her face filled him with tenderness and another feeling not so easy to diagnose. He brushed aside the unfamiliar emotion and concentrated on the physical.

While she labored, he played with her breasts displayed so temptingly in front of his face. He tweaked a nipple, noticing with interest that his gentle pinch washed her face with color. A similar firm caress on the other breast deepened the crimson.

Olivia finished her task, her face damp with perspiration. “There. All set.”

He tested the fit and nodded. “Good thing I brought a dozen.”

“A dozen?”

The strangled squeak in her voice made him chuckle despite the fact that the skin on his penis was tight enough to cause every vein to bulge. He’d been in this state, in varying degrees, for over an hour now. In fact, he might set some kind of damned record for extended foreplay.

Not that he hadn’t enjoyed himself immensely. God, she was sweet. And hot as a firecracker. Though she probably didn’t see it in herself, she was one of the most innately sensual women he had ever met.

With his hand, he positioned himself. “You ready, honey?”

Her eyelids were at half-mast, her lips swollen from his kisses. The skin at her throat bore the marks of his passion, and her nipples puckered as if begging for his kisses. He leaned up and obliged, just as he thrust as hard as he could manage into her welcoming heat.

Their foreheads actually bumped together.

“Hell,” he said ruefully, the pain giving him a moment’s respite from total insanity. “Rub my head.” His hands were clenched on her curvy ass, and he had no plans to let go.

She kissed his forehead. “Poor baby.”

Her innocent motion seated him more deeply. “Hold still,” he said through clenched teeth. “Damn it, I’m about to come.”

“Isn’t that the object of this exercise?”

He groaned, caught between incredulous laughter and the imminent explosion in his loins. Had any woman ever made him experience both in such measure? His heart caught, and he buried his face in her neck, panting, trying to stay the course. “You’re killing me.”

Reaching behind her, she found his sac and delicately played with him. It was like being hit by a lightning bolt. He lost control of himself, of her, of the entire flippin’ situation.

Pumping his hips wildly, he thrust upward again and again, deaf, blind, mute… except for the caveman grunts that were all he could manage. Olivia clung to his shoulders as he fell to his back. Her breasts glided across his face, sweet-smelling, soft and warm.

God, he never wanted to stop. He wanted to mark her as his, to stake a claim. She found his lips and kissed him. That was all it took. He shot so hard that his balls pulled up, a vise tightened around his forehead and he saw nothing but blackness and yellow sparks for long, agonizing seconds.

At last, he lay spent, Olivia draped over him like a weary nymph.

“Good God in heaven.”

She nodded, her breasts smashed against his heaving chest, her cheek resting atop his thundering heart. “I hope you’re in good shape. I’d hate to have to call the concierge for the number of the closest cardiac center.”

He stroked her ass, deciding he might never move. “You’re something else, Olivia Delgado.”

One eyelid lifted and then fluttered shut. “Mmm…”

“Don’t go to sleep on me.”

“Is that literally or metaphorically?”

Given her current posture, it was a fair question. “Either, I suppose.” He yawned and stretched. “Any idea what time it is?”

“Do we care?”

“I may not have been entirely truthful.” When she stiffened in his arms, he could have kicked himself for his unfortunate phraseology. “I promised we could do this for twenty-four hours, but I think I’m going to need sustenance.”

“Room service?”

He patted her butt. “I was thinking of something a bit more upscale. After all, we are in the greatest city in the world. We should go somewhere incredibly expensive and over-the-top.”

“And you know such a spot?” She slid off him, sat up and clutched the sheet to her chest.

Her sudden modesty was baffling. But then again, he never claimed to understand women. “I’ve heard Jacob talk about a place he likes.”

“Jacob, the strong silent doctor? Somehow I thought he was above us mere mortals who need to eat.”

“Jacob has his weaknesses. New York style cheesecake, for one. He’s usually here in the city for medical conferences every year or so. In fact, he did a consult at Lenox Hill Hospital last Christmas.”

“He’s scary smart, isn’t he?”

Kieran grinned. “Oh, yeah. Perfect score on the SATs. Four years of college in two and a half.” He paused, and cocked his head. “Do we have to talk about my brother any longer, or can I interest you in a shower?”

“I’ll race you.”

He was treated to a delicious view of Olivia’s backside as she dropped her only covering and darted into the bathroom. When he followed her, she was already hidden from view, water running. “Room for two?” he asked, stepping in without an invitation.

When Olivia sputtered with maidenly affront, he grinned. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Olivia discovered that even a man who slept in grass huts and swallowed the occasional disgusting, edible bug could drum up romance if he put his mind to it, starting with a tuxedo that appeared as if by magic, delivered by a uniformed bellman.

When Kieran strode out of the bedroom clad in crisp black and white, fumbling with a bow tie, her breathing hitched. He was gorgeous. No other word to describe him. “Help me with this damned thing,” he said. “They’re a necessary evil, but I’m out of practice.”

She stood behind him and wrapped her arms around his neck, deftly folding the fabric into the desired configuration. “Out of practice?” She nipped his earlobe with her teeth. “I don’t think so.”

He turned and scooped her off her feet, twirling her in a circle before setting her back down. “I love reviews from satisfied customers.”

“Customer? Good grief. Am I going to get a bill for services rendered?”

“I haven’t decided yet. This afternoon was only my warm-up. I’ll have to let you know.”

He slid his hands beneath her hair and steadied her head while he dove deep for a hungry, forceful kiss.

On tiptoe, Olivia clung to his forearms and tried not to get the vapors. Kieran Wolff was like hundred-proof whiskey: guaranteed to go straight to a woman’s head.

The night was clear and relatively cool so they decided to walk. The restaurant Kieran had chosen was only a couple of blocks away on a side street around the corner from East 76th.

He didn’t hold her hand. But he did wrap an arm around her shoulders and tuck her close to his side. She felt warm and cherished, and for the span of an evening’s stroll, she allowed herself to knit cobwebby dreams about happily ever afters.

When they arrived, Olivia paused on the sidewalk. “Do you mind if I call Cammie? She’ll be in bed by the time we finish dinner.”

“Of course not.”

Olivia took her cell phone from her purse and punched in the contact info she’d saved for the Wolff house. An employee answered, and seconds later, Cammie’s excited voice came on the line.

“Hi, Mommy. Me and Annalise are dressing up for dinner.”

“Oh?” She grinned at her daughter’s enthusiasm.

“We’re going to be…” A muffled conversation ensued to the side and then Cammie said loudly, “… flappers.”

“That sounds fun. Will you ask Annalise to take a picture for me?”

“Yes, ma’am. May I speak to Kieran now?”

Olivia hesitated, taken aback. Usually Cammie chattered away forever on such a phone call. “Sure,” she said, handing her cell toward Kieran. “She wants to talk to you.”

He blinked, and then smiled, barely masking his pleased surprise. But he hit the button for speakerphone, a thoughtful gesture that made Olivia ashamed of her odd jealousy. “Hey there, ladybug. What’s happenin’?”

“I got to play with your wooden submarine today,” Cammie said. “It’s way cool, and Annalise tried to torpedo me a bunch of times, but I got out of the way.”

Kieran laughed out loud. “Tomorrow morning, ask her to show you the secret tunnel. It’s a little spooky, but a brave girl like you will like it.”

Suddenly the line went silent, but in the background they could hear Cammie’s excited squeal.

Annalise picked up the call. “How are you lovebirds getting along in New York?”

Kieran’s lips quirked. He gave Olivia a rueful smile. “Behave, brat,” he told his cousin firmly. “We’re fine. Should be home by lunch tomorrow. I’ll bring you a dozen bagels if you’re nice to me.”

“Oooh… bagels. Big spender.”

Olivia giggled. “I can do better than that, Annalise. Thanks again for keeping Cammie. Give her a kiss and hug for me.”

They all said their goodbyes, and Kieran took Olivia’s arm. “Ready to eat?”

She nodded, relieved to know that Cammie was happy and content. “I’m starving.”

Patrice’s was delightful, with snowy linen tablecloths, fresh bouquets of Dutch iris and freesias, and a modest string ensemble tucked away in a far corner. Even the lighting was perfect.

Olivia sank onto a velvet-covered banquette and leaned back with a sigh of appreciation. “Order for me,” she said. “I’m in the mood to be surprised.”

Kieran wondered how surprised Olivia would be if he were honest about his intentions. After dinner, he planned to hustle her back to the room and hold her captive there until they were forced to check out the following morning. He’d let her sleep… occasionally. But the sand in his hourglass was running out rapidly, so he didn’t plan to waste a minute.

As they’d entered the restaurant earlier, practically every head had turned, the women’s faces reflecting envy, and the men’s expressions frankly lustful. Olivia was oblivious. How could she not recognize the impact she made? He’d never met a woman more genuinely modest and unselfconscious, especially not one with Olivia’s stunning beauty.

The dress she wore tonight was deceptively simple… a slender column of deep burgundy with a halter neck and a back that plunged to the base of her spine. Her hair was pinned on top of her head in one of those messy knots women managed to create. The only accessory she had chosen to wear was a pair of dangling earrings comprised of tiny ruby and jet beads.

He knew her body intimately, and he was pretty certain she was wearing nothing beneath the sinuous fabric that clung to her body like a second skin.

A waiter interrupted Kieran’s musings. By the time their order was placed, the sommelier appeared to offer a wine selection. Kieran perused the extensive list. “We’ll have champagne,” he said. “To celebrate.” He indicated a choice near the top of the price list.

Olivia propped her chin on one hand and gazed at him curiously. “What are we celebrating?”

“How amazing you look in that dress.”

His sincere compliment flustered her. She straightened and fidgeted, looking at their fellow diners. “Thank you.”

“I mean it,” he said. “You outshine your mother any day.”

“Oh, please,” she huffed. “I could stand to lose a few pounds, my mouth is too wide and my chest is too big.”

He burst out laughing.

“What?” she cried.

“You really have no clue, do you?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.” She played with her silverware, refusing to meet his gaze.

“First of all, my naive chick, as far as a man is concerned, there’s no such thing as a chest that’s too big. God in his infinite wisdom created breasts in all shapes and sizes, and yours are a work of art.”

Her head snapped up at that, a small frown between her brows. But she didn’t speak.

“Second of all,” he continued, “just because your mother is petite and thin doesn’t make her more beautiful than you. The camera may love the way she looks, but you are fabulous just the way you are. You’re incredibly feminine and knock-’em-dead gorgeous. Every man in this room wishes he were sitting in my chair.”

Her cheeks went pink. “You’re a tall-tale raconteur, but thank you. That’s very sweet.”

He threw up his hands. “I give up. But know this, Olivia Delgado. I wouldn’t change a thing about you.” As the words left his mouth, he understood just how true they were. She was his ideal woman. And if he were in the market for a wife, he’d have to look no farther.

But he wasn’t… in the market, that is. He was a man destined to travel alone. Despite that reality, he hoped to forge a bond with Cammie this summer that could withstand the long separations. He might not be the best dad in the world, but he would ensure that his daughter knew her father loved her.

Over a meal of stuffed quail and apple-chestnut dressing, they conversed lazily. Though he drank guardedly, the wine went to his head, and all he could think about was getting Olivia naked again. She, on the other hand, seemed content to enjoy the formal, drawn-out dinner.

Finally the final bite of dessert was consumed, the last cup of coffee sipped. Kieran summoned the waiter, asked for their check and waited, fingers drumming on the tablecloth, for Olivia to return from a trip to the ladies’ room.

As he watched her make her way between the carefully orchestrated maze of tables, someone reached out a hand to stop her. Olivia’s face lit up, and the next thing Kieran knew, his lover was being kissed enthusiastically on the mouth by a tall, handsome man in a dark suit.

Feeling his temper rise, Kieran got to his feet. Olivia didn’t even look his way. Now she was hugging the mystery guy and patting his cheek. The waiter had the temerity to block Kieran’s field of view for a few seconds as he provided the bill. Kieran scribbled his name with leashed impatience on the credit card slip and started toward the couple on the far side of the room.

“Olivia?”

She stayed where she was, only now the fellow had his arm around her waist. By the look of things, Olivia’s admirer was dining alone. And in the meantime, trolling for other men’s girlfriends?

Kieran tamped down his annoyance. “Am I missing the party?” he asked, not managing entirely to squelch his pique.

She reached for his hand. “Come meet someone, Kieran. This is my dear friend, Jeremy Vargas. We’ve known each other forever. We used to be in school together on the MGM lot. He’s here in New York rehearsing for a stint in a Broadway play… during a brief lull between shooting a string of great movies. Jeremy, this is Kieran Wolff, my…” She stumbled, licked her lips and trailed off.

“Olivia and I are seeing each other.” Kieran shook the man’s hand, taking in the firm grip and easy smile that said Jeremy Vargas was confident and in no way threatened by Kieran’s glower. “Nice to meet you,” Kieran said, lying through his teeth.

Vargas might be a stage name, because Jeremy didn’t appear to have a drop of Latino blood. He was the quintessential Hollywood golden boy, blond hair, blue eyes and a killer smile.

Olivia recovered and beamed her approval back and forth between the two of them.

Jeremy continued to embrace Olivia. “It’s a pleasure, Kieran. You’ve snagged a great girl.”

“A great woman.” Was he the only one who noticed the note of over-familiarity in Jeremy’s voice? And did Jeremy know about Cammie?

Olivia finally freed herself from the other man’s proprietary hold and stood beside Kieran. “I wish we’d known you were here. We could have shared a meal.”

Like hell. Kieran suddenly remembered where he had heard Vargas’s name. He was mentioned in the article about Cammie’s birthday party… as Olivia’s date.

Intellectually Kieran knew that Olivia hadn’t been a nun for the past five years. She was a passionate, gloriously beautiful woman. But seeing with his own eyes that other men weren’t blind to her beauty put a sour taste in Kieran’s mouth.

One day soon, when Olivia was ready to expand her white picket fence, perhaps with a second baby on the way, she wouldn’t have any trouble finding men to line up for the role of husband and father.

Kieran brooded on the way back to the hotel. Damn Jeremy and his inopportune arrival. “Have you and Vargas dated?” he asked abruptly, tormented by the fact that she had an entire life apart from him.

“He’s like a brother.” The blunt response shut him up. After that, Olivia was mostly silent. Kieran wasn’t sure if she was sleepy from too much champagne or if she was remembering all the reasons she wanted to keep him at arm’s length.

In their hotel room, he paced, stripping off his jacket and tie, and swallowing a glass of ice water, hoping it would cool him down. Olivia removed her earrings. When that innocent tableau turned his sex to stone, he knew he was in trouble.

He cleared his throat. “Are you ready for bed?”

Twelve

Olivia dropped the earrings on the table. “For bed or for sex?” She met his gaze squarely, no pretense, no games. Her big brown eyes were rich and dark, masking her secrets.

“I want to make love to you.” The words ripped his throat raw. He’d never said them to any woman.

Her face softened as if she read his inner turmoil. “I don’t expect you to change for me, Kieran. You are who you are. I am who I am. We’re two people who met at the wrong time and the wrong place. But we created a child and we have to put her first.”

When he stood rigid, torn between honesty and seduction, she came to him and held out her hand. “Let’s have tonight. Tomorrow will take care of itself.”

He allowed himself to be persuaded. There was no choice, really. If he didn’t have Olivia one more time, he would die, incinerated by the fire of his own reckless passion.

This time, he vowed to give her tenderness. He’d been rough with her earlier, rough and earthy and carnal. What she deserved was a man who would worship at her feet.

He dropped to his knees, heart in his throat. Encircling her hips with his arms, he laid his head against her belly. She had carried his child, her lovely body rounded and large with the fruit of their desire. God, how he wished he had been with her, had been able to see her flesh expand and grow in lush, fertile beauty.