Maureen Child - His Seductive Proposal - A Touch of Persuasion / Terms of Engagement / An Outrageous Proposal

“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.”