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. “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. Wha
t 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
“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.”
An Outrageous Proposal Page 2