Kate Hoffmann - Sean

Alistair shrugged. "Perhaps the money represents independence for her. She could move out of the house and start a life of her own, make a break from Sinclair. But as much as she wants to break away, he wants to hold on to her. I think, in his own way, he's grown fond of her."

Sean straightened. "Are you going to tell Sinclair about us?"

The butler shook his head. "This is between Miss Laurel and her uncle. You've just managed to get caught in the middle. We'll just have to see how events unfold, won't we?"

Grabbing up his beer, Sean nodded. "We will." He paused, then smiled at Alistair. "It was nice talking to you."

"Good night, Mr. Edward."

As Sean wandered through the dark house, he was forced to admit that his assumptions about Laurel and her motives might have been wrong. That this wasn't about greed at all. He'd been pretty quick to jump to conclusions. For now, he'd give her the benefit of the doubt. After all, she was his "wife." It was the least he could do.

Laurel rolled over and punched her pillow, unable to get comfortable. Though she should have been completely exhausted, she felt as if every nerve in her body was on edge. She'd expected Sean to be lying on the sofa when she emerged from the bathroom, but he'd been gone. Frantic, she'd hurried down the stairs only to hear his voice coming from the kitchen.

"Relax," she murmured. "He's not going to run away."

But then, maybe twenty thousand hadn't been enough. She could offer him more, since she really didn't have the twenty thousand anyway. Her only chance to pay him was if her plan succeeded and Sinclair turned over her trust fund. And if that happened, then a few thousand more wouldn't matter one way or the other.

With a groan, she pulled the pillow over her face. A month of nights with Sean Quinn sleeping in her room. A month of days watching him move, listening to his voice, staring into his handsome face. A woman only had so much self-control! Though she hadn't been in love with Edward, she'd liked him enough to marry him. Laurel had convinced herself to be pragmatic about passion.

Since there hadn't been much heat between her and Edward, she hadn't had to worry. In truth, she'd considered their lack of a sex life to be proof that they had a friendship first. And Edward had insisted that they save themselves for marriage, a request she thought chivalrous. Laurel frowned. "That should have made me suspicious," she muttered. "No man in his right mind passes up sex when he has a willing and available woman."

But then, maybe it wasn't Edward. Maybe it was her. Maybe she'd unconsciously been unwilling to release her passionate side. She'd seen how her mother's death had nearly destroyed her father. For nine years, he'd pined after her, unable to recapture his usual zest for life. That kind of love and desire frightened Laurel and she'd wanted no part of it-until now.

She hadn't done much to make Edward want her. And maybe he just wasn't attracted to her in that way. She groaned softly. Suddenly, Sean had awakened all these strange and powerful feelings inside of her and she didn't know what to do with them. For the first time in her life, she felt real desire for a man.

From beneath the pillow, she heard the bedroom door open, then creak as it swung shut. She sat up, clutching the pillow to her lap. "You're back," she said.

In the faint light streaming through the window, she saw him turn toward the bed. "You're awake."

Laurel reached over and switched on the light, then hastily ran her fingers through her tousled hair. "I can't sleep. It's probably jet lag. It's afternoon in Hawaii."

Sean set a bottle of beer on the table near the sofa and slowly drew his sweater over his head. After he'd tossed it aside, he sat and kicked off his shoes and socks. "You've had a busy day."

She nodded. "You were talking to Alistair." At his questioning look, Laurel smiled. "I went looking for you. What were you talking about?"

"Nothing," Sean said.

"I-I thought you'd left. For good."

"We have a deal. I'm not going to back out," Sean said.

Laurel caught herself staring at his chest and when she looked back at his face, he was watching her. "I-I wouldn't blame you if you wanted out. This is a pretty crazy plan."

"It is." He reached for the buttons on his jeans and she scrambled for the light and turned it off. It took a moment for her eyes to adjust again, and by the time they had, he wore only his boxers. Laurel swallowed hard. Maybe she hadn't felt this kind of attraction to Edward because he didn't have the body of a Greek god.

He sat on the sofa, bracing his elbows on his knees. "Maybe you should tell me why this money is so important to you."

"There are things I want to do with my life," she murmured. "And I want to get started now."

"Like what?" he asked as he rose. Sean moved to the bed and sat on the edge. Her pulse quickened as the mattress sank under his weight. "Tell me."

She could barely see him in the dark, but she felt the heat from his body, heard the soft sound of his breathing. He found her hand and slipped his fingers between hers, drawing it up to his mouth.

"I-I have this plan," she said as he pressed a kiss to the tip of one finger. "I'm going to do something good with the money. But I can't talk about it. I'm afraid I'll jinx it."

"You can tell me, Laurel." Sean kissed another finger, his lips soft. She shivered, grateful that she didn't keep any really embarrassing secrets. No secret would be safe once Sean started kissing her. "I found this old building in a neighborhood in Dorchester and I want to open an arts center there. We'd have after-school activities in theater, music, dance, maybe painting." She reached over and turned on the light, suddenly excited to be telling someone about her plans. "You should see the building. It's perfect. It's got all this space and it's right on the bus line. And it's within walking distance of two grade schools."

"That's what you want the money for?"

Laurel nodded. "When I was little, my mother sent me to art lessons and dance class. And in the summer, she took me to acting classes. When she died, I could hardly think about that time in my life, because it was so much a part of my memories of her. It hurt too much. But then when I started teaching music, it all came back to me. Those teachers made a difference in my life."

"It's a great idea," Sean said.

She clutched his hand, pulling it to her. "Do you really think so?"

"Who knows? Something like that might have made a difference for me."

Laurel smiled. "I told you my secrets. Now you have to tell me yours."

"I don't have any secrets," Sean replied.

She took his hand and kissed his fingertips one by one. "I promise, I won't judge." He stared at her for a long moment and Laurel felt a shiver skitter down her spine. Sometimes he looked at her and she saw desire in his eyes, knew that if she just leaned forward, he'd kiss her. Was any of this real between them? Did he fantasize about her in the same way she did about him?

"All right," Sean said. "Shove over."

Laurel shimmied to the other side of the bed and Sean lay down beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. This nervous anticipation, the flutter of her heart when Sean moved beside her, the quickening of her pulse when his shoulder bumped against hers-all of it was so exciting.

He leaned back into the pillows and sighed. "My childhood wasn't the best. My da was a commercial fisherman and he was gone all the time. My ma walked out when I was three. And my brothers and I raised ourselves. I grew up… confused. And angry. And rebellious."

"Did you get in trouble?"

"I was well on my way to a career as a criminal."

"And what stopped you?"

Sean shrugged, a response that she'd grown used to already. He shrugged when he needed more time to think, always so careful about what he revealed, so wary of letting someone know him. He was a man of very few words and Laurel had grown to love that about him.