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

Not that he considered Cammie a mistake, but because he needed to learn how to be a father. One child was enough for the moment.

He sheathed himself in the latex and positioned the head of his penis against Olivia’s warm, moist flesh. She was pink and perfect, her sex swollen where he had teased her.

Her eyes were shut. “Look at me,” he insisted. When she obeyed, he drove into her, eliciting groans from both of them. Her body squeezed him, begged him not to leave. Panting, he withdrew and surged deep again. “We’re good this way,” he muttered. “So damn good.”

The truth of the statement tormented him.

He was not a family man. After a lifetime of living caged up, he needed the freedom he found in anonymous villages on the other side of the world. Olivia was important to him, and Cammie was part of him, flesh and blood.

But what did it matter when he was condemned to be alone? Loving meant loss, and he’d had his share of that.

Olivia’s sultry smile was drowsy. “Does it have to end?”

Even the question was enough to send heat streaking down his spine, sparking into his balls and rushing through the part of him that longed for release. His jaw clenched, the muscles in his neck corded and he shouted half in relief, half in awe when his body shuddered in the throes of a climax that left him weak.

Dimly he was aware that Olivia joined him at the end.

Panting, half addled from the scalding deluge of release, he rolled to his back, dragging her on top of him, their bodies still joined.

“Stay the night.” The words were muffled as he buried his face in her cleavage.

“I can’t,” she said, disentangling their limbs and rolling to sit on the side of the bed.

“I could come to your room.”

Her body stilled, her back to him. “No.”

As he watched, only momentarily sated, she dressed rapidly and finger-combed her hair. He frowned, already missing the feel of her in his arms. “Dismiss the housekeeper and come back. We could set an alarm so you’ll be in your room by morning.”

“I have responsibilities,” she said, not meeting his gaze.

“And that precludes meeting your needs as a woman?”

She stopped at the door and faced him across the room. In her eyes he saw regret and resolution. “I can’t afford to get involved with you again. Sharing a daughter will be hard enough. Let’s view tonight as one for Auld Lang Syne and put it behind us.”

“I’m not a fan of that plan. It wouldn’t hurt for Cammie to see us getting along.”

“We can be civil without starting something we can’t finish. I’m here for a very short time. And unlike you, I don’t happen to see recreational sex as an appropriate lifestyle.”

Now he was pissed. “Who said anything about recreational sex?”

He strode to where she stood backed up against the door and got in her face. “I’m attracted to you, Olivia Delgado. I like you. And as of today, I know we share a child. Any intimacies we indulge in are far from casual.”

She licked her lips, her eyes huge. “You’re bullying me again,” she whispered.

Damn it. He was hard. And hungry. And mad as hell that she seemed to see him as some kind of a lowlife. He backed up two feet and crossed his arms over his chest. “You have more power than you think. But I won’t be pushed away.”

She reached behind her for the knob and opened the door. Since he was buck naked, and knowing that one of the housekeepers sat just across the hall, he didn’t have a prayer of stopping her.

But his chest was tight when he closed the door and banged his forehead against the unforgiving wood. She was making him crazy. Two steps forward… one step back. Perhaps it was time for a change of plan. He would get to know his daughter, and in the meantime, maybe Olivia would acknowledge the fire that burned between them and return to his bed on her own.

Six (#ulink_592ebd5f-40b7-5d27-a275-23d0fe6fc018)

A strange house. Odd night sounds. And dreams that were riddled with images of Kieran Wolff. No wonder Olivia slept poorly. She had no more defenses against him now than she had as a naive university student. All he had to do was crook his little finger and she fell into his arms without protest.

It was infuriating and humbling and, if she were honest, exciting. Her days since Cammie was born had been pleasant. And the white-picket-fence life she had so deliberately created was good. Really good. But what woman—still two years shy of thirty—should be willing to settle for that?

Kieran’s recent intrusion into her life was a jolt of adrenaline. Now she was scared and aroused and worried and challenged, but she wasn’t bored.

Finally, at 4:00 a.m., she fell into a deep sleep, only to be awakened at the crack of dawn when Cammie crawled into bed with her. Crossing three time zones was not an easy adjustment for a child.

Olivia yawned. “Good morning, sweetheart.”

“What are we going to do today?” Cammie snuggled close, her small, warm body a comfort Olivia never tired of.

“I think Kieran wants to hang out with us. Is that okay?”

In the semidark, her daughter’s face was hard to read. “Yep. I like him.”

That was it. Four short words. But hearing her daughter’s vote of confidence relieved at least some of Olivia’s concern.

Olivia dozed off again. When she woke, Cammie was gone, and light streamed into the room. Good Lord. She was a sweet kid, but mischievous at times. Olivia stumbled from her bed and rushed through the connecting passageway to Cammie’s whimsical bedroom. She stopped short when she realized that Cammie was sprawled on the floor on her stomach alongside Kieran, who was aligned in a similar position.

Both of them were playing with an expensive model train set. A small black engine choo-chooed its way around a figure-eight track. Seeing the two of them side by side wrenched something inside her chest and brought hot tears to her eyes. She blinked them back, refusing to dwell on what might have been.

Kieran looked up, his gaze raking her from head to toe, taking in the flimsy silk nightie that ended above her knees, her thinly covered breasts, her tousled hair. “Rough night, Olivia?”

His bland intonation was meant to bait.

“Slept like a baby,” she said, glaring at him when she thought her daughter wouldn’t see. Kieran looked delicious… clear-eyed and dressed casually in jeans and an old faded yellow oxford shirt with the sleeves rolled up. His big masculine feet were bare, and Olivia discovered that there was no part of him that didn’t make her heart beat faster.

He motioned to a nearby tray. “Cook sent up fresh scones and homemade blackberry jam. And there’s a carafe of coffee.”

Cammie had barely acknowledged her mother’s presence, too caught up in the new entertainment. Olivia shifted her feet, reluctant to parade in front of her host to get a much-needed cup of caffeine. The awkward silence grew.

Kieran took pity on her. “Go take a shower if you want to. I’ll pour you some coffee and set it on the nightstand. Okay?”

“Thanks,” she muttered, escaping to the privacy of her room. In twenty minutes she had showered and changed into trim khakis and a turquoise peasant shirt that left one shoulder bare. She hadn’t needed to wash her hair this morning, so she brushed it vigorously and left one swathe to lie over the exposed skin.

The coffee awaited as promised. She drank it rapidly and went in search of a second cup. What she saw stunned her. Cammie, often shy around strangers, sat in Kieran’s lap in a sunshine-yellow rocker as he read to her from an Eric Carle book.

The two of them looked up with identical expressions of inquiry. Cammie’s typical smile danced across her face. “You look pretty, Mommy. Kieran’s going to take us to the attic.”

Olivia glanced down ruefully at her fairly expensive outfit. “Do I need to change?”

Kieran laid the book aside and shook his head. “The Wolff attic is more of a carefully maintained museum than a dusty hiding place. You’ll be fine.”

While Cammie took another turn with the train, Kieran spoke, sotto voce to Olivia. “She’s right. You look lovely.” He brushed a kiss across her cheek. “I wanted you when I woke up this morning.”