An Outrageous Proposal. Maureen Child

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      Was he flirting with her? Georgia wondered, then dismissed the notion. She shook her head and reminded herself that they were here for a drink. Or several.

      As he spoke, a long, ululating howl erupted from deep within the house. Georgia actually jumped at the sound and then laughed. “With the rain, the dogs have probably let themselves into the kitchen.”

      “Probably hungry now, too,” Sean said, and walked beside her toward the back of the house.

      Georgia knew her sister’s house as if it were her own. Whenever she was in Ireland, she stayed here at the manor, since it was so huge they could comfortably hold a family reunion for a hundred. She opened the door into a sprawling kitchen with top-of-the-line appliances and what looked like miles of granite countertops. Everything was tidy—but for the two dogs scrambling toward her for some attention.

      Deidre was a big, clumsy English sheepdog with so much hair over her eyes, it was a wonder she didn’t walk into walls. And Beast—huge, homely—the best that could be said about him was what he lacked in beauty he made up for in heart. Since Beast reached her first, Georgia scratched behind his ears and sent the big dog into quivers of delight. Deidre was right behind him, nudging her mate out of her way.

      “Okay then, food for the dogs, then drinks for us,” Georgia announced.

      “Already on it,” Sean assured her, making his way to the wide pantry, stepping over and around Beast as the dog wound his way in and out of Sean’s feet.

      Within a few minutes, they had the dogs fed and watered and then left them there, sleeping on their beds in front of the now cold kitchen hearth. Cuddled up together, the dogs looked snug and happy.

      Then Georgia led the way back down the hall, the short heels of her shoes clicking against the wood floor. At the door to the parlor, Sean asked, “So, Patsy’s in Dublin with her daughter. Sinead’s doing well then, with her new family?”

      “According to Patsy, everything’s great,” Georgia said.

      Laura had told her the whole story of the pregnant Sinead marrying in a hurry. Sinead was now the mother of an infant son and her new husband was, at the moment, making a demo CD. He and his friends played traditional Irish music and, thanks to Ronan’s influence with a recording company, had a real chance to do something with it. “She misses Sinead living close by, but once they get the demo done, they’ll all be coming back to Dunley.”

      “Home does draw a body back no matter how far you intend to roam,” Sean mused, as he followed her into the front parlor. “And yet, you’re thinking of leaving your home to make a new one.”

      “I guess I am.”

      Hearing him say it aloud made the whole idea seem more real than it had in the past week or so that it had been floating around in her mind. But it also felt … right. Okay, scary, but good. After all, it wasn’t as if she was giving up a lot. And the plus side was, she could leave behind all of the tension and bad memories of a marriage that had dissolved so abruptly.

      Moving to Ireland was a big change, she knew. But wasn’t change a good thing? Shake up your life from time to time just to keep it interesting?

      At that thought, she smiled to herself. Interesting. Moving to a different country. Leaving the familiar to go to the … okay, also familiar. Since Laura had married Ronan and moved to Ireland, Georgia had made the long trek to visit four times. And each time she came, it was harder to leave. To go back to her empty condo in Huntington Beach, California. To sit at her desk, alone in the real estate office she and Laura had opened together.

      Not that she was feeling sorry for herself—she wasn’t. But she had started thinking that maybe there was more to life than sitting behind a desk hoping to sell a house.

      In the parlor, Georgia paused, as she always did, just to enjoy the beauty of the room. A white-tiled hearth, cold now, but stacked with kindling that Sean was already working to light against the chill gloom of the day. Pale green walls dotted with seascapes and oversize couches facing each other across a low table that held a Waterford crystal bowl filled with late chrysanthemums in tones of russet and gold. The wide front windows looked out over a sweep of lawn that was drenched with the rain still falling softly against the glass.

      When he had the fire going to his satisfaction, Sean stood up and brushed his palms together, then moved to the spindle table in the corner that held a collection of crystal decanters. Ignoring them, he bent to the small refrigerator tucked into the corner behind the table.

      “Now, about that celebratory drink,” he muttered.

      Georgia smiled and joined him at the table, leaning her palms on the glossy top as she watched him open the fridge. “We earned it all right, but I wouldn’t have missed it. The worry, the panic—” She was still smiling as he glanced up at her. “And I was seriously panicked. It was hard knowing Laura was in pain and not being able to do anything about it.”

      “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. СКАЧАТЬ