The Millionaire's Proposal. Trish Wylie

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The Millionaire's Proposal - Trish Wylie


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wet another couple of times on their way out, both still grinning from the shared experience as they walked through the crowd and Kerry fully aware, but not the least bit bothered, by the amused looks aimed their way.

      She shook droplets of moisture off her arms and lifted her hands to her hair—ruffling it in the vain hope the hot midday sun would dry it into something resembling curls rather than a frizzy mess. She then stole a sideways glance at Ronan, who was flapping the end of his white T-shirt back and forth, no doubt to try and dry it some—not that Kerry actually had a problem with it plastered against his well-defined chest.

      And when he turned his head to look at her she felt her breath catch again, the way it had when she’d spotted him in the crowd. He really did do incredible things to her pulse rate, didn’t he? She’d never met anyone who could do that—and so effortlessly too. He had only to breathe in and out and she found it completely fascinating.

      They laughed.

      ‘Well, you’re cooler now, aren’t you?’ He nudged his upper arm off her shoulder.

      So she nudged him back a little harder, laughing all the more when he made an exaggerated stagger to the side. ‘You’re a big kid, you know that, don’t you?’

      A large hand was slapped against his chest. ‘Me? I’ll have you know I’m the responsible one—I just made sure the chances of you getting heatstroke were lessened. You’re the one who turned it into a game.’

      Still smiling, but with her gaze now fixed forwards on the poignant sight of the mounted globe salvaged from Ground Zero, Kerry admitted in a soft voice, ‘It was fun.’

      She dropped her chin to study the painted toenails visible in her sandalled feet for a moment before giving in to the need to look back at Ronan, who was looking at her with a strangely intense expression on his face.

      ‘You make it sound like it’s something you don’t normally make time for.’

      She scrunched up her nose.

      ‘How come?’

      Spoken by the man who was as free as a bird to the woman who’d been trapped by responsibility for over a decade. ‘I have fun. I just don’t—’

      ‘Have fun the way you just did?’

      Normally the lack of smart suits and forcefully tamed hair was enough to fool the world into thinking she was more carefree than she actually was. And he hadn’t seen her in work clothes, so, ‘Do I look boring?’

      ‘No, that’s why I’m surprised—and now curious.’

      Kerry liked that she could make him curious. In the short time she’d known him Lord alone knew there’d been plenty of things that had her curious about him, so it was a good feeling to be able to return the favour.

      When she didn’t speak he asked the obvious. ‘So what holds you back?’

      ‘Is therapy a complimentary part of the tour?’

      ‘Ooh—defensive.’

      How had he done that? Having used the gentle tone he just had, he’d made her feel guilty for not spilling her guts. And Kerry never did, well, not unless she’d known someone a really long time, which technically made it a moot point because anyone who’d known her that long already knew.

      But she wasn’t going to ruin such an amazing day with a conversation examining the psychology of why she was the way she was in normal everyday life. So she brushed it over by nudging her shoulder against his arm again, lifting her other hand to push her fingers into the hair on top of her head and ruffling it before letting it fall.

      ‘What’s next? I assume from your previous disdain for people with patience that we’re not joining the longest queue in the history of mankind so we can make some kind of Irish pilgrimage to Ellis…’

      The low rumble of laughter reassured her she’d managed to brush over what could have been an awkward moment. ‘You’d be correct in that assumption. But I do need to know how you feel about boats.’

      Kerry stopped and turned to face him, considering a random point above his left ear while she answered. ‘Kinda depends if we’re talking rowboat or cruise ship here. Though I should warn you I hadn’t planned on the cruise portion of my fantasy list for another twenty years or so. And I was thinking more along the lines of the Caribbean for that one.’

      ‘I’m sure you’ll enjoy that. But I’m thinking more along the lines of the Staten Island ferry. You can see Ellis and take some pictures of Liberty while I fill you in on the associated history free of charge—I’m helpful that way.’

      Her gaze shifted to lock with his, the smile immediate and reciprocated just as fast. ‘Lead on Macduff.’

      He stared at her for a long moment, searching her eyes while a dozen thoughts crossed through the varying shades of blue in his. But just when she thought he might say something else, he laced his fingers with hers and tugged.

      ‘C’mon then, Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

      The invisible angelic midget on one shoulder said she really shouldn’t allow him to keep touching her the way he did; as if he had a right to do it and had been doing it for ever. But the equally small invisible siren in high heels on her other promptly reminded her she’d been just as keen to touch him on the bus tour. And fair was fair.

      So she decided for just one day of her life she wasn’t going to over-think. She was simply going to do things because she wanted to and because they felt right. Not because she was expected to behave a certain way or because she was concerned what other people thought—the trip was the first thing she’d specifically done for herself in a long, long time, after all. And she’d earned it; she didn’t have to feel guilty about anything.

      If karma was going to punish her for grabbing hold of one perfect day, then let it try—they’d be having a long talk about time served.

      So she tangled her fingers a little firmer around Ronan’s—softening any subliminal meaning he might get from it by then swinging their arms as they walked down the path out of the park.

      He grumbled out a warning. ‘You even think about doing any skipping to go with that arm- swinging and I’m tossing you under the first yellow cab I can find.’

      ‘You’re no fun.’

      The look he gave her was so heated it practically melted her knees, his voice a low, deliciously sensual rumble. ‘Oh, I can be fun. Believe me. And now I know how much fun you can be, my new aim is to make sure you have as much of it as humanly possible. So consider yourself warned, young lady.’

      Kerry grinned the whole way out of the park. She could quite happily have the day never end…

      CHAPTER THREE

      LITTLE did she know it but Kerry Doyle had managed a bit of a miracle in the twelve hours Ronan had spent with her. She was a ray of sunshine. And, caught in her reflected warmth, he’d miraculously forgotten his reason for being in New York this time round.

      It wasn’t until the end of the night tour on another open-topped bus that he was faced with a very visible reminder of why he would never be able to forget, because when the light dimmed his world went dark, and he had to force his other senses into overdrive to keep from showing his weakness in front of her.

      Thankfully Kerry had been distracted by all the varying photo opportunities afforded to her by the stunning sight of Manhattan lit up against the night sky Ronan didn’t have to look at to know— so indelibly was it imprinted onto his mind after dozens of trips. And by the time they’d returned to Times Square he had enough light to work with to leave her with his pride intact.

      He frowned as he stepped off the bus, jostling a couple of people in the crowd before he focussed hard on Kerry. He then allowed himself the luxury of studying


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