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

An unwed mother in Hollywood was boring news. As long as no one discovered the father was a Wolff.

Tonight Olivia would be no less discreet.

She had dressed to play a part. Confident and chic were the qualities she planned to convey with her taupe linen tank dress and coral sandals. Though she had not inherited an iota of her parents’ love for acting, she had inevitably learned from them along the way what it meant to present a serene face to the world, no matter if your life was in ruins.

Kieran Wolff’s hotel was tucked away in a quiet back street of Santa Monica. Exclusive, discreet and no doubt wildly expensive, it catered to those whose utmost wish was privacy. The manager, himself, actually escorted Olivia to the fifth floor suite.

After that, she was left to stand alone at the door. Instead of knocking, she took a few seconds to contemplate fleeing the country. Cammie was everything to her, and the prospect of losing her child was impossible to imagine.

But such thoughts were defeatist. Though she might not be able to go toe-to-toe with the Wolff empire when it came to bank accounts, Olivia did have considerable financial means at her disposal. In a legal battle, she could hold her own. And judges often sided with a mother, particularly in this situation.

She had no notion of what awaited her on the other side of the door, but she wouldn’t go down without a fight. Kieran Wolff didn’t deserve to be a father. And if it came to that, she would tell him so.

Deliberately taking a moment to shore up her nerve, she rapped sharply at the door and took a deep breath.

Kieran had worn a trail in the carpet by the time his reluctant guest arrived. When he yanked open the door and saw her standing in the vestibule, his gut pitched and tightened. God, she was gorgeous. Every male hormone he possessed stood up and saluted. A man would have to be almost dead not to respond to her inherent sexuality.

Like the pin-up girls of the 1940s, with legs that went on forever, breasts that were real and plenty of feminine curves right where they should be, Olivia Delgado was a vivid, honey-skinned fantasy.

But today wasn’t about appeasing the hunger in his gut, even if he had been celibate during a recent, hellacious foray into the wilds of Thailand. Bugs, abysmal weather and local politics had complicated his life enormously. He’d been more than ready to return to central Virginia and reconnect with his family. Not that he ever stayed very long, but still… that closely guarded mountain in the Blue Ridge was the only place he called home.

With an effort, he recalled his wayward thoughts. “Come in, Olivia. I’ve ordered dinner. It should be delivered any moment now.”

She slipped past him in a cloud of Chanel No. 5, making him wonder if she had worn the evocative scent on purpose. In the old days, she had often come to his bed wearing nothing but a long strand of pearls and that same perfume.

He waited for her to be seated on the love seat and then took an armchair for himself a few feet away. In the intervening hours, he’d rehearsed how this would go. Having her here, on somewhat public turf, seemed like a good idea. He was determined to keep his cool, no matter the provocation.

They faced off in silence for at least a minute. When he realized she wasn’t going to crack, he sighed. “Surely you can’t deny it, Olivia. You were a virgin when we met. I can do the math. Your daughter is mine.”

Her eyes flashed. “My daughter is none of your business. You may have introduced me to sex, but there have been plenty of men since.”

“Liar. Name one.”

Her jaw dropped. “Um…”

He chuckled, feeling the first hint of amusement he’d had since he saw the article about the party. Olivia might look like a woman of immense sophistication and experience, but he’d bet his last dime that she was still the sweet, down-to-earth girl he’d known back at university, completely unaware of her stunning beauty.

“Show me her birth certificate.”

Her chin lifted. “Don’t be ridiculous. I don’t carry it around in my purse.”

“But you probably have it at the house, right? In order to register her for kindergarten?”

She nibbled her bottom lip. “Well, I…”

Thank God she was a lousy liar. “Whose name is on the birth certificate, Olivia? You might as well tell me. You know I can find out.”

Suddenly she looked neither sweet nor innocent. “Kevin Wade. Is that what you wanted to hear?”

The sharp pain in his chest took his breath away. “Kevin Wade…”

“Exactly. So you can see that no judge would think you have any rights in this instance at all.” Her eyes were cold, and even that realization was painful. The Olivia he had known smiled constantly, her joie de vivre captivating and so very seductive.

Now her demeanor was icy.

“You put my name on her birth certificate,” he croaked. It kept coming back to that. Kevin Wade was a father. Kieran had a daughter.

“Correction,” she said with a flat intonation that disguised any emotion. “In the hospital, when I gave birth to my daughter, I listed a fictional name for her father. It had nothing to do with you.”

He clamped down on his frustration, acknowledging that he was getting nowhere with this approach. Unable to sit any longer, he sprang to his feet and paced, pausing at the windows to look out at the ocean in the far distance. One summer he had lived for six weeks on a houseboat in Bali. It was the freest he had ever felt, the most relaxed.

Too bad life wasn’t always so easy.

Olivia continued to sit in stubborn silence, so he kept his back to her. “When you hired an investigator, what did you find out about me?”

After several seconds of silence, she spoke. “That your real name is Kieran Wolff. You lost your mother and aunt to a violent abduction and shooting when you were small. Your father and uncle raised you and your siblings and cousins in seclusion, because they were afraid of another kidnapping attempt.”

He faced her, brooding. “Will you listen to my side of the story?” he asked quietly.

Olivia’s hands were clenched together in her lap, her posture so rigid she seemed in danger of shattering into a million pieces. Though she hid it well, he could sense her agitation. At one time he had been attuned to her every thought and desire.

He swallowed, painfully aware that a king-size bed lay just on the other side of the door. The intensity of the desire he felt for her was shocking. As was the need for her to understand and forgive him. He was culpable for his sins in the past, no doubt about it. But that didn’t excuse Olivia for hiding the existence of his child, his blood.

“Will you listen?” he asked again.

She nodded slowly, eyes downcast.

With a prayer for patience, he crossed the expanse of expensive carpet to sit beside her, hip to hip. She froze, inching back into her corner.

“Look at me, Olivia.” He took her chin in his hand with a gentle grasp, lifting it until her gaze met his. “I’m not the enemy,” he swore. “All I need is for you to be honest with me. And I’ll try my damnedest to do the same.”

Her chocolate-brown eyes were shiny with tears, but she blinked them back, giving him a second terse nod. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear and forced himself to release her. Touching her was a luxury he couldn’t afford at the moment.

“Okay, then.” He was more a man of action than of words. But if he was fighting for his daughter, he would use any means necessary, even if that meant revealing truths he’d rather not expose.

He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and dropped his head in his hands. “You were important to me, Olivia.”

A slight humph was her only response. Was that skepticism or denial or maybe both?

“It’s true,” he insisted. “I’d been with a lot of girls before I met you, but you were different.”

Dead silence.

“You made me laugh even when I wanted you so badly, I ached. I never meant to hurt you. But I had made a vow to my father.”

“Of course you had.”

She could give lessons in sarcasm.

“Sneer if you like, but the vow was real. My brothers and cousins and I swore to my father and my uncle that if they would let us go off to college without bodyguards, we would use assumed names and never tell anyone who we really were.”

“So it was okay to sleep with me, but you couldn’t share with me something as simple as the truth about your real name. Charming.”

This time it was Olivia who jumped to her feet and paced. He sat back and stared at her, tracking the gentle sway of her hips as she crisscrossed the room. “I was going to tell you,” he insisted. “But I had to get my father’s permission. And before I could do that, he had a heart attack. That’s when I left England so suddenly.”

She wrapped her arms around her waist. “Leaving behind a lovely eight-word note. Dear Olivia, I have to go home. Sorry.”

He winced. “I was in a hurry.”

“Do you have any clue at all how humiliated I was when I went to the Dean’s office to beg for information about you and was told that Kevin Wade was no longer enrolled? And they were not allowed to give out any information as to your whereabouts because of privacy rules? God, I was embarrassed. And then I was mad at myself for being such a credulous fool.”

“You weren’t a fool,” he said automatically, mentally replaying her words and for the first time realizing what he had put her through. “I’m sorry.”

She kicked the leg of the coffee table, revealing a hint of her mother’s flamboyant temper. “Sorry doesn’t explain why suddenly neither your cell phone nor your email address worked when I tried to reach you.”

“They were school accounts. My exams were over. I knew I wasn’t coming back, so I let them go inactive, because I thought it was the easiest way to make a clean break.”

“If you’re trying to make a case for yourself, you’re failing miserably.”

“I never wanted to hurt you,” he insisted.

“They call them clichés for a reason.” The careful veil she’d kept over her emotions had shredded, and now he was privy to the pure, clean burn of her anger.

“Things were crazy at home,” he said wearily. “I stayed at the hospital round-the-clock for a week. Then when Dad was released, he was extremely depressed. My brother Jacob and I had to entertain him, read to him, listen to music with him. I barely had a thought to myself.”

She nodded slowly. “I get it, Kieran.” He watched her frown as she rolled the last word on her tongue. “I was a temporary girlfriend. Too bad I was so naive. I didn’t realize for a few weeks that I had been dumped. I kept making excuses for you, believing—despite the evidence to the contrary—that we shared something special.”

“We did, damn it.”

“But not special enough for you to pick up the phone and make a call. And you had to know I was back home in California. Yet you didn’t even bother. I should thank you, really. That experience taught me a lot. I grew up fast. You were a horny young man. I was easy pickings. So if that’s all, I’m out of here. I absolve you of any guilt.”

Fortunately for Kieran, the arrival of dinner halted Olivia’s headlong progress to the door. She was forced to cool her heels while the waiter rolled a small table in front of the picture window and smiled as Kieran tipped him generously. When the man departed, the amazing smells wafting from the collection of covered dishes won Olivia over, despite Kieran’s botched attempts to deal with their past.

Neither of them spoke a word for fifteen minutes as they devoured grilled swordfish with mango salsa and spinach salad.

Kieran realized he’d gotten off track. They were supposed to be talking about why Olivia had hidden the existence of his daughter. Instead, Kieran had ended up in a defensive position. Time for a new game plan.

He ate a couple of bites of melon sorbet, wiped his mouth with a snowy linen napkin and leaned back in his chair. “I may have been a jerk,” he said bluntly, “but that doesn’t explain why you never told me I had a daughter. Your turn in the hot seat, Olivia.”

Three

Olivia choked on a sliced almond and had to wash it down with a long gulp of water. The Wolff family was far more powerful than even Olivia’s world-famous parents. If the truth came out, she knew the Wolff patriarchs might help Kieran take Cammie. And she couldn’t allow that. “You don’t have a daughter,” she said calmly, her voice hoarse from coughing. Hearing Kieran’s explanation of why he had left England so suddenly had done nothing to alleviate her fears. “I do.”

Kieran scowled. Any attempts he might have made to appease her were derailed by his obvious dislike of having his wishes thwarted. “I’ll lock you in here with me if I have to,” he said, daring her to challenge his ability to do so.

“And how would that solve anything?”

Suddenly her cell phone rang. With a wince for the unfortunate timing, she stood up. “Excuse me. I need to take this.”

Kieran made no move to give her privacy, so she turned her back on him and moved to the far side of the room. Tapping the screen of her phone to answer, she smiled. “Hey, sweetheart. Are you in New York?”

The brief conversation ended with Olivia’s mother on the other end promising to make Cammie sleep on the flight over to Paris. Olivia’s daughter had flown internationally several times, but she wasn’t so blasé about jet travel that she would simply nod off. Olivia had packed several of the child’s bedtime books in her carry-on, hoping that a semi-familiar routine would do the trick.

When Olivia hung up and turned around, Kieran was scowling. “I thought you said she was in Europe.”

She shrugged. “That’s their ultimate destination.”

“So this morning when I came to your house, where was she?”

“At the neighbor’s.”

“Damn you, Olivia.”

It was her turn to frown in exasperation. “What would you have done if I had told you, Kieran? Made a dramatic run through the yard calling her name? My daughter is now traveling with her grandparents. That’s all you need to know.”

“When will they be back?”

“A week… ten days… My mother isn’t crazy about abiding by schedules.”

His scowl blackened. “Tell me she’s my daughter.”

Her stomach flipped once, hard, but she held on to her composure by a thread. “Go to hell.”

Abruptly he shoved back his chair and went to the mini bar to pour himself a Scotch, downing the contents with one quick toss of his head. His throat was tanned like the rest of him, and the tantalizing glimpse of his chest at the opening of his shirt struck Olivia as unbearably erotic.

Sensing her own foray into the quicksand of nostalgia, she attacked. “If you want to have children someday, you should probably work on those alcoholic tendencies.”

“I’m not an alcoholic, though God knows you could drive a man to drink.” He ran a hand through his hair, rumpling it into disarray. She saw for the first time that he was exhausted, probably running on nothing but adrenaline.

“You don’t even own a house,” she blurted out.

Confusion etched his face. “Excuse me?”

“A house,” she reiterated. “Most people who want a family start with a house and a white picket fence. All you do is travel the globe. What are you afraid of? Getting stuck in one place for too long?”

Her random shot hit its mark.

“Maybe,” he muttered, his expression bleak. “My brothers have been begging me to come home for a long time now. But I’m not sure I know how.”

“Then I think you should leave,” she said calmly. “Get back on a plane and go save the world. No one needs you here.”

“You didn’t used to be so callous.” His expression was sober. Regretful. And his cat eyes watched her every move as if he were stalking prey.

“I’m simply being realistic. Even if I had given birth to a child that was yours, what makes you think you have what it takes to be a father? Parenting is about being present. That’s not really your forte, now is it?”

She heard the cruel words tumbling from her lips and couldn’t stop them. If she could drive him away in anger, he would go and leave Olivia to raise her daughter in peace.

“I’m here now,” he said quietly, his control making her ashamed of her outburst. “Cammie is my daughter, I want to get to know her.”

Olivia’s heart stopped. Hearing him say her daughter’s name did something odd to her heart. “How exactly do you mean that?”

“Let me stay here with you for a little while.”

“Absolutely not.” She shivered, imagining his big body in her guest bed… a few feet down the hall from hers.

“Then I want the two of you to come to Wolff Mountain with me for the summer and meet my family. This afternoon I talked to the CEO of my foundation, Bridge to the Future. He’s lining up people to take my place until early September.”

“Thank you for the invitation,” she said politely. “But we can’t. Perhaps some other time.” When hell freezes over. If she let Cammie go anywhere near the Wolff family compound, Olivia stood a chance of never seeing her daughter again. Kieran’s relatives made up a tight familial unit, and if they got wind that another wolf had been born into the pack, Olivia feared that her status as Cammie’s mother would carry little weight.

He shoved his hands in his pockets. “At the risk of sounding like one of your father’s action hero characters, I’m warning you. We can do this the easy way or the hard way. I can get a court order for a DNA sample.”

Olivia shivered inwardly as she felt her options narrowing. She could buy some time by stonewalling, but ultimately, the Wolff would prevail. “My daughter and I have lives, Kieran. It’s unrealistic of you to expect us to visit strangers for no other reason than your sudden odd conviction that you are a daddy.”

“Your work is portable. Cammie doesn’t start school until the fall. I’ll make a deal with you. I won’t claim her as mine…. I won’t even tell my family what I know to be true. But in exchange, you agree to let me see her as much as possible in the next few weeks.”

“She’s not yours.” The words were beginning to sound weak, even to her ears.

He came toward her. The silent intensity of his stare was hypnotic. When they were almost touching, chest to chest, he put his hands on her shoulders, the warmth of his touch searing her skin even through a layer of fabric. “Don’t be afraid of me, Olivia.”

His mouth moved over hers, light as a whisper, teasing, coaxing. The fact that her knees lost their starch should have made her angry, but there was no room for negative emotion in that moment. For no other reason than pleasure, her lips moved under his. Seeking. Responding.

He made an inarticulate murmur that encompassed surprise and masculine satisfaction. Then the kiss deepened.

His leg moved between her thighs as he drew her closer. “You haven’t changed,” he said roughly. “I’ve dreamed about you over the years. On nights when I couldn’t sleep. And remembered you just like this. God, you’re sweet.”

She felt the press of his heavy erection against her belly, and everything inside her went liquid with drugged delight. How long had it been? How long? No longer a responsible mother, she was once again a giddy young woman, desperate for her lover’s touch.

Unbidden, the memories came flooding back….

“You’re a virgin?”

Kevin’s shock worried her. Surely he wouldn’t abandon her now. Not when they were naked and tangled in her bed. “Does it matter? I want this, Kevin. I really do. I want you.”

He sat up beside her, magnificently nude, his expression troubled. “I haven’t ever done it with a virgin. You’re twenty-two, Olivia. For God’s sake. I had no idea.”

With a confidence that surprised her, she laid a hand on his hard, hairy thigh, her fingertips almost brushing his thick penis. “I told you I had led a sheltered life. Why do you think I wanted to cross an ocean to finish my schooling? I’m tired of living in a cocoon. Make love to me, Kevin. Please.”

His hunger, coupled with her entreaty, defeated him. Groaning like a man tormented on a rack, he moved between her legs once more, his erect shaft nudging eagerly at her entrance. Braced on his forearms, he leaned down to kiss her… hard. “I know I’ll hurt you. I’m sorry.”

“No apology needed,” she whispered, sensing the momentous turning point in her life. “I need this. I need you.”

He pushed forward an inch, and she braced instinctively against the sharp sting of pain.

“Easy,” he whispered, his beautiful eyes alight with tenderness. “Relax, Olivia.”

She tried to do as he asked, but he was fully aroused, and she was so tight. His whole big body trembled violently, and she wanted to cry at the beauty of it. Another inch. Another gasped cry to be swallowed up in his wild kiss.

She felt torn asunder, violated, but in the best possible way. Never again would her body be hers. Kevin claimed it, claimed her.

When he was fully seated, tears rolled silently down her cheeks, wetting her hair, sliding into her ears.

He rested his forehead on hers. “Was it that bad?” he asked, clearly striving for humor, but unable to hide his distress over what had transpired.

“Try moving,” she said breathlessly. “I think I can handle it.”

“Holy hell.” His discomfiture almost elicited a giggle, but when he followed her naive suggestion, humor fled. Slowly, inexorably, her untried body learned his rhythm. Deep inside her a tiny flame flickered to life.

She moaned, arching her back and driving him deeper on a down thrust. It was easier now, and far more exciting. Her long legs wrapped around his waist. Skin damp with exertion, they devoured each other, desperately trying to get closer still.

Kevin went rigid and cursed, closing his eyes and groaning as he climaxed inside her. She was taking the pill, and he had been tested recently, so no condom came between them.

As he slumped on top of her, she wrinkled her nose in disappointment. She had been so close to something spectacular. But the feeling faded. Taking its place was a warmth and satisfaction that she had been able to give him pleasure.

He rolled to his side. “Did you come?”

She nibbled her lip. Would it hurt to lie? It wasn’t a habit she wanted to start. “Not exactly. But I know it takes practice. Don’t worry about it… really.”

He chuckled, yawning and stretching. “For a novice, you’re pretty damned wonderful. Hold still, baby, and let’s finish this.”

Without ceremony, he put his hand between her legs and touched her. She flinched, still not quite comfortable with this level of intimacy, and also feeling tender and sore. His fingers were gentle, finding a certain spot and rubbing lightly. Her hips came off the bed.

“Um, Kevin?”

“What, honey?”

“You don’t have to do this. To tell you the truth, I’m feeling sort of embarrassed.”

“Why?” The strum of his fingers picked up tempo.

“Well, you’re… um… finished, and it’s a little weird now.” Her voice caught in her throat. “That’s enough. I feel good. Really.”

He entered her with two fingers and bit the side of her neck. “How about now?”

Her shriek could have peeled paint off the walls, but she was too far gone to care. The attention she gave herself now and again when the lights were out barely held a candle to this maelstrom. Kevin gave no quarter, stroking her firmly until her orgasm crested, exploded and winnowed away, leaving her spent in his arms.

She cried again.