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

“The one in September?”

He nodded. “We’re going to design and build an orphanage in the Sudan. A variety of church agencies will do the staffing and oversee operations.”

“Isn’t it dangerous there?”

He shrugged. “Have you looked around the Big Apple? You can get killed crossing the street.”

Before Olivia could respond, the car pulled up in front of a row of small, and obviously expensive, designer shops. She wrinkled her nose. “I’d really rather go to Macy’s, the original on 34th Street. You know… from the movie. Is that too far out of our way?”

“No. But I thought given your Hollywood roots you’d enjoy the upscale shopping.”

She shrugged. “I’m really more of a Macy’s kind of gal.”

“Whatever you say.” The ride to midtown didn’t take long. When Kieran hopped out to open Olivia’s door and escort her to the sidewalk, he tucked a stray hair behind her ear, his gaze filled with something she wanted to believe was more than affection. “Here’s my card with all my numbers. Have fun,” he said softly, brushing a kiss across her lips.

Her arms wanted to cling, to beg him to stay. She forced herself to back up. “Go to your meeting. I’ll be fine.”

He winced when a cacophony of horns protested the illegally parked limo. “I’ll call you when we’re done.”

Kieran tolerated the meeting with less than his customary patience. The “awful offspring,” as he had nicknamed them in his mind, were no more difficult than usual, but today he was in no frame of mind to placate them. All he could think about was getting Olivia back to a hotel room and spending twenty-four hours in bed.

It was a great fantasy, but, of course, the gentlemanly thing to do would be to show her a good time out on the town first. Even that would be fun with Olivia.

And then there was the issue of Cammie. Once he made his case for claiming his rights as a father, would the mood be ruined? He wasn’t sure where Olivia stood at the moment. Sometimes it seemed as if she was ready for him to tell Cammie the truth. But on other occasions, she bowed up, determined that Kieran was not father material.

To further strain his mood, the meeting ran long. At twelve-thirty, he finally stood and excused himself. The major business had been completed. All that was left was the minutiae that didn’t require his presence.

He called downstairs, and the limo was waiting when he strode out into the sunshine. Unfortunately the lunch hour rush had traffic backed up in all directions. When they finally reached Macy’s, after sending Olivia a text that they were on the way, Kieran’s head was pounding from hunger and tension.

Olivia jumped in quickly, all smiles. A lot of women would be bitching about his late arrival. Instead, she seemed happy to see him. Kieran reacted to her greeting automatically, but inside, he dealt with a stunning realization. He had become addicted to her smile. In fact, he couldn’t imagine going a day without seeing that look on her face.

The knowledge shook him. Since the death of his mother and his father’s involuntary emotional abandonment, Kieran had never really allowed himself to need anyone. He prided himself on being self-sufficient, a lone Wolff.

He took Olivia’s hand in his, clearing his throat to speak. “I know several great restaurants where we can have lunch. Do you have a preference?”

She patted the large shopping bag at her feet. “When your meeting ran late, I picked up several things at the gourmet shop around the corner. I thought we could have a picnic in Central Park. What do you think?”

Suddenly the irritations of the past several hours rolled away. “Sounds perfect.” He gave the driver a few directions, and soon they were hopping out in front of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. As they crossed Fifth Avenue and entered the park, he took Olivia’s heavy bag. “Good Lord. What all did you buy?”

She laughed, shoving her hair out of her face as the wind whipped it carelessly. Her beautiful creamy skin glowed in the sunlight, revealing not a flaw or an imperfection. He suspected that Olivia, growing up as she had in the shadow of her outrageous mother, had no clue that she was equally stunning. It would be his job and his pleasure to convince her.

With no blanket to stretch on the grass, they instead sat on a bench overlooking the lake, in a patch of shade that lent dappled shadows to their alfresco feast. Olivia wore a white sundress scattered with yellow-and-orange sunflowers. When she took off her small sweater, Kieran’s food stuck in his throat.

Her body was like a centerfold’s, curvaceous, even voluptuous. With her sienna hair and chocolate eyes, she reminded him of a young Sophia Loren. The dress was not particularly immodest, but the crisscrossed vee of the neckline was hard-pressed to contain her full breasts. He imagined licking his way from her collarbone down each rich slope, and his body hardened painfully, visualizing what it would be like to peel back the cloth and reveal pert nipples.

Nestled against the cleavage was a yellow diamond pendant that he remembered from their university days. Her parents had given it to her for her twenty-first birthday. Olivia had been loath to wear the expensive bauble on a daily basis, but he had lobbied for enjoying the gift and not worrying about losing it.

He tore his gaze from her charms and guzzled his Perrier, wishing fervently that they had dined in a more private locale. All around them life ebbed and flowed… the dog walkers, the teenage lovers, the nannies pushing expensive strollers. Seeing the babies made him frown.

How would he have reacted if Olivia had let him know she was pregnant? Back then, he’d been full of piss and vinegar, chomping at the bit to make a name for himself in the world, especially a world that had nothing to do with the Wolff empire. Parenthood wasn’t even on his radar.

As soon as Victor recovered from the heart attack that had brought Kieran home from Oxford, Kieran had hit the road, determined to explore the globe despite his father’s concerns about safety. Where Kieran went, no one knew or cared who he was. He waded through rice paddies, canoed down rivers of sludge in mosquito-infested jungles, hiked soaring peaks where the air was so thin a man gasped to breathe.

And every mile took him farther and farther away from the mountain that had been his prison, albeit a luxurious one. He’d kept in touch via the occasional email and phone call, learning that Gareth and Jacob were acting out their own rebellions. As far as the civilized world knew, Kieran Wolff had ceased to exist.

Gradually his nomadic existence with no purpose began to pall. His first project had come about almost by accident. He’d been in Bangladesh during a monsoon, and the resultant water damage had left a huge cleanup effort. Kieran had pitched in to rebuild bridges that connected remote villages to the help they so desperately needed.

After that, he’d found his architectural skills in demand from place to place. He used to joke that he was a cross between Johnny Appleseed and Frank Lloyd Wright. His work gave him a sense of peace and fulfillment, something he’d never been able to find at home.

But what if he had known about Cammie?

The question buzzed in his brain like an annoying gadfly.

Olivia brushed bread crumbs off her skirt and stretched out her legs, crossing them at the ankles. Her toenails were painted a deep coral that matched her dress. Kieran wanted desperately to kiss each delicately arched, perfect foot.

God knows he’d never been a fetishist, but somehow, Olivia was turning everything he thought he knew about himself on its ear. She made him ache and sweat and laugh all in the space of a single conversation. How had he ever made the decision to leave her six years ago?

The answer was easy. For once in his life, he’d done the mature thing. When Olivia talked back then, he had listened. Hearing about how much she hated the unsettled childhood she had experienced and how badly she wanted to settle down and be normal made him realize he had to give her up before either of them got in too deep.

The Wolffs were not a normal family.

But his altruistic decision had, in the end, caused Olivia even more pain. She believed he didn’t want her. Surely she couldn’t doubt that now. He needed the summer to prove to her that he had wanted her back then and he wanted her still.

Cammie’s existence changed everything. Kieran and Olivia were involved. Only time would tell how deeply.

He sighed inwardly, wondering if such a thing as salvation existed. He was more than happy to pay atonement, but Olivia had to accept his offering. “What now?” he asked abruptly. “A Broadway matinee? A harbor tour? More shopping?”

Olivia half turned to face him, her face shadowed with worry. “We can’t ignore the elephant in the room. You brought me here to hash out our situation. We might as well deal with that, and maybe then I’ll be able to enjoy the rest of the day.”

He shrugged, stretching his arms along the back of the bench and staring out across the water. “You know my position. I want you to stay for the entire summer, and I want to tell Cammie that I’m her dad.”

Olivia nibbled her bottom lip, hands twisting in her lap. “I have work to finish, Kieran. I need to get back to my studio.”

“Tell me about that,” he said, wanting to know everything concerning her life, what made her tick. He’d been impressed with her talent for whimsical watercolors when they first met, and he’d recognized an ambition and drive for perfection that mirrored his own.

“I illustrate children’s stories for two publishers here in New York. It’s a flexible job, which means I can be there for Cammie when she needs me. One of my last books was nominated for an award.”

“You’ve done well, then.”

She nodded. “I never wanted to live off my parents. I like my independence and the security of knowing I’m providing for my daughter.”

“So why can’t you work on the mountain?”

“It’s not as easy as that, Kieran. I have paints and papers and supplies. And besides…”

“Yes?” He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like this one.

“I haven’t changed my mind about what your leaving would do to Cammie. She sees you as a buddy now, but it would be so much worse if you were her father. I haven’t told you this, because I didn’t want to cause you pain, but she has always begged me for a daddy, ever since she was old enough to know that she was supposed to have two parents and not just me. If we told her the truth, she would jump to the conclusion that you were going to come back to California and live with us.”

The image of his baby daughter begging for a daddy haunted him. Regret sat like a boulder on his chest. “So that’s your final word?”

She stared at him, solemn, wary. “Are you going to take me to court?”

He stood up and turned away from her, afraid of what she might see on his face. “Oh, hell. Of course not.” Impotence and rage tore at him, but what made it worse was that he had no target for his anger.

Olivia joined him, wrapping an arm around his waist and laying her head on his shoulder. “Don’t be mad… please. I’m trying to do what’s best. Maybe not for you or for me, but for Cammie.”

He tugged her close with his left arm, still staring at boaters on the lake that sparkled like diamonds in the sun. “I’m not mad,” he said gruffly.

“Let me go home tomorrow,” she said. “I’ll finish my project. Cammie and I have some fun summer activities planned. Then in August we’ll come back for another visit before you have to leave for the Sudan.”

He thought of all the long, lonely weeks that stretched between now and then. “Will you promise to think about letting me tell her who I really am?”

Her body stiffened in his embrace and finally relaxed. “I’ll think about it,” she said softly.

“That’s all I ask.” He wanted more… so much more. But for now he would bide his time.

Ten

Olivia felt terrible. Kieran was being firm, but reasonable, and she was the one refusing to compromise. But how could she? Nothing Kieran suggested had any basis in reality.

At least they had solved the question of whether or not she and Cammie would go home. Olivia badly needed physical distance to recoup her equilibrium. If she stayed with Kieran much longer, she would end up agreeing to anything solely to see his smile and to feel his body wrapped around hers.

He had shed his suit jacket in the limo earlier, and had rolled up his shirtsleeves. To the casual observer he was a big city businessman taking a lunch break in the midst of a busy day. But Olivia knew better. Like a chameleon, he had assumed the camouflage that enabled him to get what he wanted.

Kieran Wolff might appear civilized at the moment, but in reality, he was a man’s man—steel-cored, physically honed, mentally sharp. Olivia had no doubt that he could accomplish anything he put his mind to… which didn’t bode well for her ability to hold out against his wishes in the long run. He might very well be planning to wear down her resistance by any means necessary… including intimacy.

She had little defense against him, though she’d tried to keep her distance. Men could have sex for the sake of sex. Why couldn’t women? If Olivia kept her head, she could enjoy the time with Kieran but not let her good sense be swayed by his magnetism.

Two choices, both risky. Leave and take Cammie away, provoking Kieran’s anger and possible vengeance. Or stay, and keep her heart intact by regarding any sexual relationship as temporary and recreational.

She gulped inwardly. There was no doubt that she and Kieran were going to end up in bed together before the day was out. Not because he was going to lure her there, but because she wanted him desperately. One more day. Surely she could keep her messy emotions at bay for one more day. And then a brief visit in August. After that, Kieran would be safely on the other side of the world, and there would be no chance of Olivia doing something embarrassing like going down on her knees and begging him to stay and love her and her daughter.

He released her and gathered up their lunch debris, tossing it in a nearby receptacle. “Have you ever taken a carriage ride in the park?” he asked.

“No. But I’d rather do that at night, I think.”

“Okay. Then what shall we do now? Anything you want. I’m at your disposal.”

“How about we check into our hotel and not waste any more time?”

Her boldness shocked him. Heck, she shocked herself. It was almost amusing to see the slack-jawed surprise on Kieran’s face. Almost, but not quite. Limbs trembling and stomach doing flips, she awaited his answer.

Kieran stood there in the sunlight, gorgeous as a big jungle cat, and equally dangerous. “Are you serious?”

She approached him slowly, her feet having a hard time making the steps. “Completely. I want to be with you for as much time as we have. I want to sleep in your bed and wake up beside you. I want it all.”

All constituted a heck of a lot in her book, surely more than he was willing or able to give. But he would think she was referring to sex, and that was okay. No reason for him to know that she was so much in love with him that the thought of returning to California was an actual pain in her chest.

He took her wrist and reeled her in, snaking an arm behind her waist and pulling her against his chest. “You’re going to get me arrested,” he muttered, his mouth moving over hers with sensual intent. “I’m not sure I can resist taking you here… now.” He dragged her off the path near a clump of trees. Privacy was still not an option, but at least they weren’t smack in the middle of the walkway.

His erection thrust between them, full, hard, seeking.

Her knees went weak, and if he hadn’t been supporting her, she might have melted to the ground in a puddle of need. No one was paying any attention to them. But this game was dangerous. “Isn’t the hotel close?” she panted.

“Not close enough.” He bit her bottom lip and pulled it into his mouth, sucking until she shuddered. She wanted to climb inside his clothes, rip them from his body.

“Call the car,” she begged.

He smelled of starched cotton and warm male skin. His hands cupped her ass. “I could tell the driver to circle the city… over and over and over. Have you ever made love in a limo, Olivia?”

Dizzy, needing oxygen, she leaned into him. “No. Have you?”

“Never had the pleasure. But damned if I couldn’t be persuaded right about now.”

She whimpered when he pulled away and barked an order into his cell phone. The planes of his face were taut, his eyes glittering with arousal. “C’mon. He’s picking us up in five minutes.”

Hand in hand, they walked rapidly. His breathing was audible and as choppy as her own.

Unfortunately the car ride from the edge of the park to the Carlyle was long enough for only one heated kiss. Suddenly a uniformed gentleman was opening Olivia’s door and they were engulfed in the bustle of check-in. Twenty minutes later, in a luxurious suite that was blessedly quiet and totally private, Kieran faced her, arms folded across his chest. “Take off your dress.”

The blunt command, combined with the intensity of his regard made her thighs quiver and her sex dampen. Never contemplating refusal, she shed the tiny shrug sweater and reached behind her for the zipper. When she stepped out of the dress and tossed it on a chair, she saw his eyes widen and his Adam’s apple bob up and down.

The dress didn’t require a bra, so she stood facing him in nothing but a lacy red thong and high heels. Her generous breasts were firm and high. The urge to cover them with her hands was there, but she resisted, wanting to please him.

His whispered curse was barely audible. She saw his fists clench at his hips. “Walk toward me.”

The distance between her and the door where he stood was considerable, more so because she was naked and he was eyeing her like a condemned man who hadn’t seen a woman in months.

When she was halfway across the room, he held out a hand. “Stop. Turn around. Take down your hair.”

She had tucked it up in a loose chignon during lunch when the heat of the day made the weight of her long hair uncomfortable. Now she reached for the pins and removed them, dropping them into a cut glass dish on the coffee table. Deliberately she ran a hand through the masses of heavy, silky strands and shook her head.

When she was done, she looked at him over her shoulder through lowered lashes. “Does this meet with your approval, Mr. Wolff?”

His jaw firmed. “Are you sassing me, Olivia?”

“Would I do that?” Her eyes widened dramatically.

“Face me. Touch your breasts.”

They were playing a game of chicken, and Kieran had just upped the stakes. Olivia felt her throat and cheeks flush, but she reversed her position and hesitantly placed her hands on her chest. Her voice was gone, locked down by the giant lump in her throat.

“I said touch them. Put your fingers on your nipples.”

Good Lord. She licked her lips, dizzy and desperate for his touch. Feeling awkward but aroused, she did as he demanded, feeling her sensitive flesh bud and tighten as she stroked herself. The sensation was incredible, pleasuring herself as Kieran watched with a hooded gaze.

“Beautiful.” He breathed the word like a prayer, the three syllables almost inaudible.

When her skin became too sensitive to continue, her hands dropped to her sides.

Kieran didn’t move. How did he do it? She was so hungry for him, her whole body trembled.

But he wasn’t finished. His gaze blazing with his heat, he narrowed his eyes. “Go to the bedroom. Don’t look back. Lie down on the bed on your stomach.”

She flinched in momentary fear. But it was a gut reaction. Kieran would never hurt her or make her uncomfortable. This was all about pleasure. His and hers.

Turning away from him was difficult. She knew he watched her, hawklike, as she walked slowly toward the doorway that led into the rest of the suite. Once, she stumbled, but she finally made it into the bedroom. For a moment, she stood in indecision. Was she supposed to turn back the covers?

The bedding was expensive and ornate. Making a rapid decision, she folded back the top layers and lay, facedown, on the smooth crisp sheet. Her heartbeat sounded loud and irregular in her ears. Her arms were by her sides. Ten seconds passed. She raised her arms over her head.

What did he want? What were his plans?

Moments later she heard the sound of his footsteps on the carpet. Nearby a rustle and then the rasp of a zipper. A soft clink when the belt buckle slid free. The sounds of a man undressing.

An activity that was at once commonplace and yet deeply erotic, particularly when the woman in his bed was not allowed to witness the disrobing. She imagined his long, muscular limbs, narrow hips, jutting arousal.

The bed shuddered when he put a knee beside her hip and joined her on the mattress. Without warning, he took her two wrists and bound them together with what felt like his necktie. She struggled instinctively. He paid her no mind.

The silk fabric tightened, and then she felt him lean down as he whispered in her ear. “You’re at my mercy now. Everything I ask of you, you’ll do, and in exchange, I’ll make you burn.”

“Kieran…” The word ended on a cry as he ran his tongue around the shell of her ear and winnowed his fingers through her hair. With a slow, steady touch, he massaged her scalp. His fingertips skated to her nape, the back of her ear. Her whole body craved his attention, but he was set on a course that was drugging, slow and steady.

Gradually, almost imperceptibly, he moved south, digging his thumbs into the tense muscles of her neck and shoulders. Her spine caught his focus. He ran his tongue the length of it and then rubbed gently on either side.

At her ass, he made a sound, a cross between a groan and a curse. Quivering, helpless, she felt him plump the cheeks, trace the cleft, reach beneath her and brush the part of her that ached the most.

When she spread her legs, begging wordlessly, he chuckled and abandoned the ground he had barely conquered. “Patience, Olivia.”

She felt his hands beneath her hips, lifting her, turning her. Now she could see him, and the sight took her breath and shredded it. His broad chest was tanned and rippled with muscle. An arrow of fine, dark hair traced the midline, all the way down to where his shaft reared proudly against his abdomen.

His erection was thick and long, and a drop of moisture glistened on the tip. “Please,” she begged without pride. “Please don’t make us wait.”

“Waiting is half the fun. I want you crazed when I finally take you, so lost to reason that nothing exists but you and me and this bed.”

It was as if he were a hypnotist. Her body responded to his words atavistically, ceding control without a qualm. But by the look on his face, his control was more fragile than he was willing to admit. His jaw was tight. The dark flush of color staining his cheeks made him look wild and uncivilized… a man close to the edge.

He bent over her, no part of his body touching hers except his lips. “I love your mouth,” he said, tracing the soft flesh with his tongue and sliding through to taste her.

She tried to link her bound wrists over his head to trap him close, but he moved away, using one big hand to pin hers to the mattress. “Naughty, naughty,” he teased.

Suddenly very serious, he kept his gaze locked on hers as he slid his free hand down her stomach and between her thighs. Two large fingers entered her, testing her readiness. Her hips came off the bed, her heartbeat racing as sweat beaded her forehead.

He never looked away and neither could she. All the secrets of a man’s desires were there in his eyes if she could only translate them. Was this all he wanted from her? Dare she hope he needed more?