His Seductive Proposal. Maureen Child

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His Seductive Proposal - Maureen Child


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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


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