Sean

Chapter 5

Dust motes swirled in the air as Sean and Laurel walked through the old storefront. Tall windows, covered with a wire mesh outside, were cracked and broken and grimy with dirt-a sign that the building had been vacant for some time. And with outside temperatures nearing eighty, the air inside was stale and musty, heavy with the heat of the early September afternoon.

"What do you think?" Laurel asked.

Sean glanced around. She'd been so excited to show him this place, he was afraid to admit that he'd expected something a little nicer. "I think you have a lot of work to do."

"I know," she said, excitement filling her voice. "But I think it would make a great children's center. And I can probably get some matching grants from local foundations and maybe even from the government to do the renovations. The first thing I'm going to do is hire someone who is really good at fund-raising. Five million won't last long if we don't bring money in."

"What if your uncle doesn't give you the five million?"

"I'm thinking positively. He has to give me the money," she said, a desperate edge invading her cheerful voice. "I can't lose this place. It's too perfect."

Sean didn't see it as perfect. In truth, it was about as far from perfect as a building could get. But he couldn't deny Laurel's enthusiasm. "How can you be so sure this is what you want to do?"

Laurel slowly turned, taking in the entire room. "I just am. It's as if my past is connected now with my present. There were times when I felt like I was… drifting. When my father died, my last tether to who I was, was cut. This place makes me feel like I have my feet back on the ground."

"It must be nice to be sure," Sean said.

"Aren't you?"

In truth Sean had never been sure of anything in his life. He'd always waited for the next bad thing to happen, for the next disaster to come knocking at the door. There was only one person he could truly trust and depend on in the world-himself. "Yeah," he lied.

"I'm going to name this place the Louise Carpenter Rand Center for the Arts," she said. "After my mother."

"What if your uncle asks for proof before he hands over the money? What if he wants to see a marriage certificate?"

"I'll deal with that then," she said. "My father never realized what it would be like for me, living under Sinclair's thumb. If he'd known, he wouldn't have put my uncle in charge of my trust. And if he were alive, I know he'd support this idea. My mother would have loved it, too. I'm thinking positively." She turned to face the room. "Now, this is going to be the dance studio. We'll put mirrors on that wall and put in a new floor." She did a fancy little ballet step around him. "And over here, I'd like to have an art studio. And behind that wall would be storage for materials and supplies. And downstairs in the front part of the building, I want a small gallery and performance space, so people in the neighborhood can visit and see what we're doing here."

She danced by and Sean grabbed her around the waist and stopped her. "You could talk to Sinclair about your idea, lay out your plan. He might decide to support it."

"You don't know him," she said, shaking her head. "He formed his ideas about the opposite sex back in the Neanderthal ages. He thinks the only future for me is marriage and children and a nice little three-bedroom cave. His idea of the perfect husband has nothing at all to do with love. If the guy can keep track of my money, then he's a perfect candidate."

He stared down into her gaze and Laurel grew still. "Did you love Eddie?" Sean asked. He didn't want to know the answer, but he had to.

"Edward," she corrected. Laurel considered his question for a moment. "No. But he was the only one asking me to marry him. And I thought he was the kind of man I could live with. That was enough for me."

"You sell yourself short," Sean said. He released her and walked across the room to examine a broken door. Why couldn't she see how wonderful she was? She was beautiful and sexy and smart, and the kind of woman any man would want. Why would she settle for a guy like Eddie the Cruiser?

Laurel followed him. "And how would you know? Do you think I should give up my dreams while I wait for a man to ride to my rescue? I want to do something with my life. I want to make a difference, and I can't do that if Sinclair won't give me my money."

"Find it somewhere else," he said, his voice tight.

"Who is going to give me five million dollars?"

"Like you said. Foundations. The government. Have you tried?"

Anger suffused her expression. "You don't think I can do this, do you? You're just like Uncle Sinclair!"

"Laurel, that's not true. I'm just-"

A sudden movement above their head startled Laurel and she screamed as a pigeon swooped in between them. A moment later she was in his arms, her breath coming in tiny gasps.

"It's just a pigeon," he murmured, smoothing his hand over her hair and watching the bird perch on a pipe near the ceiling. He distractedly tucked a strand behind her ear then ran his palm along her jaw.

Sean waited for her to pull away, to break the intimate contact. But her gaze was fixed to his mouth. His thumb found her lower lip and he dragged it across, watching as she closed her eyes and turned into his touch.

She looked like an angel, the sun streaming through a window behind her and bathing her pale hair in an unearthly light He bent closer and touched his mouth to hers and she instantly responded, opening to his kiss. It was like touching heaven and tasting immortality. Every ounce of his being was focused on the feel of her lips beneath his.

A kiss had always been something very simple to him, an enjoyable pastime and a necessary step in seduction. But with Laurel the experience was like nothing he'd ever felt before. They seemed to communicate with the touch of their tongues and the soft shift of their lips.

It was everything he needed, but it wasn't enough. Sean wrapped his arms around her waist and picked her up, never breaking contact with her mouth. He wasn't sure where he was going, but when he found a rough brick wall, he gently trapped her there, pulling her legs up around his waist.

The kiss turned more desperate and Laurel pushed her palms beneath his T-shirt, shoving it up around his chest. The feel of her hands on his skin was electric, sending a current racing through his body and setting his nerves on fire. He couldn't stop himself, even if he wanted to. He couldn't.

With one arm wrapped firmly around her waist, Sean worked at the buttons of her blouse, shoving the fabric aside until he could press his mouth to her shoulder. Her skirt was gathered around her hips and his hands skimmed over her legs, still wrapped around his waist.

Of all the places for desire to overwhelm them, this had to be the worst choice. The temperature in the building felt close to one hundred degrees and there was nowhere comfortable to continue this seduction. If he let it go further, there would be no turning back-because he wanted to make love to Laurel, to experience her body in the same way he enjoyed her mouth.

He slid his hand from her shoulder down to her breast, cupping the soft flesh in his palm. He'd always been so uneasy with, women, not when it came to seduction, but with what came after-the emotion and the intimacy. Sex had been about satisfying a need. With Laurel, Sean knew it would be more.

Just the thought of stripping off their clothes and letting their desires overwhelm them caused his heart to hammer and his blood to warm. His arousal was powerful, and anticipation raced though him each time he. shifted her in his embrace.

The sound of wings flapping above their heads caused Laurel to suck in a sharp breath and Sean used the chance to gather his control. He wanted her, more than he'd ever wanted a woman before. Yet not here, and not now. But soon. "We should go," he murmured.

She froze, her breath stilling. Sean glanced up to see confusion fill her eyes. To reassure her, he kissed her again, gently yet thoroughly, making it clear that there would be more to come another time. Then he let her body slide down along his, stifling a groan as she rubbed against his arousal.

"I guess we really don't have to practice that part of marriage," she said.

Sean worked at the buttons of her blouse. "Practice makes perfect."

She sighed and reached up to touch his cheek. "Yes, it does."

As they restored order to their clothes, the intimacy didn't stop. Laurel smoothed her hands over his chest, then brushed his hair out of his eyes. And Sean took a last chance to touch her, raking his fingers through her hair and pulling it back from her face.

It was as if they both knew the inevitable was coming. They would make love and it would be perfect between them. But when and where would be decided later.

The night was as warm and humid as the day had been, summer holding tight to the first weeks of September. Laurel slowly strolled along the stone terrace that overlooked the swimming pool. It was the one luxury she gave into, insisting that if she had to live in the mansion, Sinclair would have to pay for a pool man.

Sinclair preferred the family vacation home in Maine, a rough lodge on Deer Island. There, he could focus all his attention on his coins, his stamps and his other obsessions. He had so many things to occupy his time, why did he continue to interfere in her life? Even the house had become a source of contention between them. The mansion was half hers-the half that her father had left her. But Sinclair owned the other half and neither one of them could sell unless the other agreed.

Laurel sat on the low wall that surrounded the terrace. There were times when the mansion seemed like such a burden, another chain tying her to her uncle. But she felt differently now-now that Sean was living here with her. She turned and glanced back at the tall windows of the dining room, illuminated in the dusk by the crystal chandelier that her father had bought in Paris.

Her thoughts focused on the man she'd brought home as her "husband," the man who was sitting with her uncle in the library, pouring over the old man's stamp collection. A tiny shiver skittered down her spine. After their encounter earlier that morning, they'd both tried to act as if nothing had happened. But with each kiss and each caress they shared, she and Sean were moving closer and closer to total surrender.

She turned back to stare out at the lawn, the swallows diving across the grassy width from their nests in the old carriage house. The air was growing thick with the sounds of evening, crickets and night birds, while bees still buzzed in the flowers. Laurel closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She could have him if she really wanted him. All she had to do was to make the first move and to keep moving until he couldn't stop.

But so much of her life had been about following her whims and impulses. She'd never learned to think before she acted. Yes, she and Sean might have a wonderful night together, maybe even ten or twenty wonderful nights. But if she didn't look before she leaped this time, she might hit bottom and seriously hurt herself.

"What are you doing out here?"

Laurel didn't bother turning around. Sean slipped his hands around her waist and pulled her against his chest. His palms moved down to her hips and he nuzzled her neck. "I'm enjoying the silence," she said.

"We just finished a discussion about my choice of neckwear," Sean said. He grabbed the tie and flipped it over her shoulder. "I like the design. Sinclair thinks the only appropriate pattern for a man is stripes. I think he was questioning my masculinity."

"Well, I can vouch for your masculinity," she said, turning in his arms. Her thoughts returned to that morning, when he'd been unable to hide his arousal-and she'd been unable to hide her curiosity. An image of his naked backside flashed in her mind, causing her pulse to quicken. He was quite beautiful… in a purely masculine way.

"And I like the tie," Sean said.

"It is nice," she said, fingering the silk. "So you forgive me for putting you through an afternoon of shopping?"

After they'd visited the old storefront in Dorchester, Laurel had insisted that they stop at Louis Boston and Brooks Brothers to pick up some new clothes for Sean. He had grumbled at first, but when he'd seen how much she was enjoying herself, he'd relaxed and played male model for her.

"The clothes make me look respectable."

He did look so sophisticated and sexy in his new clothes. The finely cut shirt hugged his torso and accented his narrow waist, and the trousers fit his backside perfectly. "And I was just missing your regular clothes," Laurel said. "They make you look… dangerous."

There was something about Sean Quinn, beyond the T-shirts and jeans, that made him seem that way. When she'd first met him, he'd been distant and aloof. But he'd begun to drop his defenses and let her peek behind the walls. One moment he'd be cool and indifferent, and then, suddenly, he'd reveal a sweet, tender and oddly vulnerable man. And with every minute they spent together, she chipped a bit more of the wall away and-

Laurel pushed the thought from her head. No, she wasn't falling in love with him! Maybe she was infatuated or captivated or caught up in the passion of the moment. But she couldn't allow herself to believe this was a real marriage or even a relationship. It was a business arrangement and nothing more.

Tipping her face up, he forced her gaze to meet his, then brushed a kiss across her lips. "Your uncle wants me to look at a new stamp," he said. "He's waiting for me in the library."

"Sinclair will have you in there all night long. Stay here with me. We're 'newlyweds.' Sinclair will have to understand." She wrapped her arms around his neck and teased at his mouth, tempting him with another quick taste before pulling away.

Sean groaned and dragged her into a deeper kiss, his tongue invading her mouth. At first she thought he would stop there, but he didn't. His hands gently explored her body. He sat on the low wall and pulled her between his legs, pushing her top up so he could kiss her belly.

Laurel sighed and gave herself over to the overwhelming need racing through her body, grabbing his hands and sliding them higher until they rested just below her breasts. "Take me to bed," she urged, furrowing her hands through his hair.

"I can't," he whispered.

The heat racing through her suddenly dissolved, replaced by a chill that caused every muscle in her body to tense. "You can't?"

"Sinclair is waiting for me," he said, trailing kisses from her bellybutton to her hip. "The sooner we convince your uncle that I'm the perfect husband, the sooner you'll get your five million. You have to let me do my job."

She cursed inwardly. Right now she didn't give a damn about the money! All that mattered was the way he made her feel when he touched her. "You don't have to do all this."

He quickly stood and gave her one last kiss. "I want to, Laurel. It's for a good cause."

A shiver jolted her body and she rubbed her bare arms as she watched him walk back into the house. Could she have made her needs any clearer? He wanted her, but only up to a point. Maybe he just didn't find her sexy enough.

Well, she'd find out for sure soon enough. In an hour or two, they'd be alone in her bedroom. If she really wanted him, she could make her move then.

But was she ready to risk her heart for a night of passion-or risk her pride on the chance that he might refuse her? Laurel took a ragged breath and closed her eyes. If any man was worth the gamble, it was Sean Quinn.

As she walked up the stairs, she heard Sinclair's voice droning on and on in the library. For a moment, she thought about rescuing Sean and dragging him upstairs with her. But instead, she ran up the stairs to her room and closed the door behind her. She felt as if her body were on fire, the anticipation so acute it was almost painful.

Leaving a trail of clothes behind her, she walked to the bathroom and turned on the shower, making sure the temperature was colder than comfortable. Laurel stepped inside and let the water pour over her, washing away the heat of the day and the flush of desire that he'd cast over her body.

But even though her skin prickled with goose bumps, the ache refused to abate. She turned up the hot water and let it pound on her back, hoping it might relax her. Bracing her arms on the marble wall, Laurel tried to clear her mind. A sound behind her caused her to turn and she saw a shadow on the other side of the shower door.

From the outline of the figure, the width of the shoulders and the long legs, she knew it was Sean. She held her breath, waiting, wondering what she should do. He reached for the door, then pulled his hand away. He was turning to leave when Laurel reached out for the handle and pushed it open.

She knew the move was impulsive but she didn't regret it. Had she really thought about her choice, she may have stayed in the shower alone, but she wasn't about to throw away what could be her only chance. The steam swirled out behind her and a tremor of anticipation raced through her. "I thought you were going to stay downstairs with Sinclair."

"I told him I was tired," Sean murmured, his gaze skimming over her naked body like a caress.

"Are you?"

He shook his head and glanced at the door. "If you want me to leave you alone, I will."

Her knees went weak. "I don't want you to go." She took a step toward him and he took it as an invitation.

Sean kicked off his shoes, then stepped into the shower with her, fully clothed. He pulled the door shut behind him, and in an instant, his hands were on her body and his mouth covered hers. It was as if they'd stepped into a dream, the shower stall refilling with steam, the passion like a wave washing over them.

She tugged at his clothes, but it was difficult to unbutton his shirt when it was wet. With a low groan, Sean removed his necktie and then tore off his shirt, the buttons pinging against the marble walls of the shower. There wasn't much space inside, their bodies pressed together as the water streamed over them.

When his shirt hit the floor of the shower, Laurel smoothed her hands over his chest. Every time she touched him, it was like touching him for the first time. Her fingers mapped his body, learning every inch of flesh, smooth skin and hard muscle. Sean tipped his head back and closed his eyes as her mouth replaced her hands on his chest.

She hadn't realized until this moment how much she wanted him. Suddenly she couldn't think straight, her brain focused not on rational thought but on the wild sensations racing though her body. As she undid his belt, her hand brushed against his groin and she found him hard and fully aroused, his erection evident through the wet fabric of his trousers.

With a hesitant hand, she touched him there and a low groan slipped from his throat. He braced his hands on the sides of the shower as she worked on his zipper. Laurel held her breath, hooked her fingers into the waistband of his trousers, and slowly pulled down, stripping away his boxers at the same time and leaving them at his feet

As she worked her way back up, she explored his long legs with her hands. He was beautifully formed, an image of masculine perfection. She'd never known a man's body to be so tempting, every inch a promise of the passion to come. Suddenly it all became so fascinating.

Laurel ran her fingers along his shaft and delighted at his reaction, the sharp breath he sucked in, the quiver of his belly. But when she pressed her lips to his heat, Laurel realized her power over him, how completely vulnerable he was to her touch. He whispered her name and furrowed his fingers through her wet hair when she took him into her mouth.

As she caressed him with her hands and her lips, she sensed his usual reticence dissolve and he opened his soul to her. Laurel had never felt so close to a man before, so anxious to please and so desperate to possess. She'd wondered about her true feelings for Sean and now she had no doubts. This was no longer a business relationship, this was heat and desire and need, so strong that it frightened her.

She brought him close to his release and then pulled back, but Sean had other plans for her. He took her arms and pulled her up in front of him, then kissed her, his lips ravaging hers. He pressed her body against the wall of the shower, trapping her in his embrace, his mouth plundering and demanding, then moving along her shoulder to her breast and then her nipple.

A shudder raced through Laurel's body, and when his fingers found the spot between her legs, she cried out in surprise at the jolt that followed. She had imagined what it might be like between them, but she'd envisioned a seduction more traditional-a bed, the judicious removal of clothing, and then a slow, easy stroll toward release. But this was frantic and wild, uncontrolled to the point that she couldn't think. Every moment was marked by new pleasures and a need that twisted her to the core.

"What are you doing to me?" he murmured, his lips warm on her breast. "Why do I want you so much?"

He plunged his fingers inside her and she cried out, nearly reaching her pleasure right then. But Sean slowed himself, his breath coming in deep gasps, his body tensed and waiting. He bent to retrieve his wallet from the pocket of his pants.

Laurel smiled as he dumped out the wet contents and found a foil package. It took only a moment for her to sheath him and then he was inside her, their joining more powerful and desperate than anything she'd experienced in her life. He pulled her legs up around his hips as he drove into her, each stroke taking her closer to the edge.

Soon she lost all sense of time and reality, the water splashing around them and the steam filling her lungs. Laurel ran her fingers through his hair and watched his face as he made love to her, marveling at the exquisite mix of pleasure and pain suffusing his features, the concentration that seemed to propel him forward and at the same time hold him back.

As if he could sense her watching him, he opened his eyes and their gazes locked. He slowed his movements, pulling out much farther before plunging back inside her. Laurel sensed that he was waiting for her. She shifted over him and a wave of pleasure raced through her.

He saw it in her face and, a moment later, they were at the edge together. His mouth covered hers as he came, his shoulder muscles going tense before he exploded inside her. He moaned, murmured her name, and then she joined him, tumbling through ecstasy, held tight in his arms.

Gradually, reality returned and Laurel felt the water on her skin and the marble on her back. She nuzzled her face into his neck and waited for her breathing to return to normal. Completely sated, she was afraid to put her feet back on the floor, afraid that she couldn't stand on her own.

Sean reached over and turned off the water, then kicked open the door, still buried deep inside her. As he carried her to the bed, dripping water along the way, he kissed her softly. "We should make it a habit to shower together every day," he said.

"To conserve water," she said.

He chuckled as he laid her on the bed, his body stretching out on top of hers. Laurel ran her hand across his cheek. When Sean smiled, she felt as if anything was possible, as if there would be many showers that ended in many more evenings like this. Maybe that was a dream or a fantasy or wishful thinking. But for now, she wasn't going to question her good fortune. She was simply going to enjoy it.

Sean opened his eyes to the morning sun streaming through the bedroom window. Pushing up on his elbows, he glanced at Laurel, curled up beside him. Her hair, a riot of honey-colored waves, fell over her face. He brushed the curls back and kissed her cheek.

Her eyes fluttered and she looked up at him, a sleepy smile touching her lips. They'd only slept for three or four hours, but he didn't miss the rest. Losing himself in Laurel's body all night long had both exhausted and exhilarated him. He smiled at her as he stroked her cheek. "Morning."

"Is it? Or is it afternoon?"

"It's just past nine. God, you look pretty."

Laurel groaned and covered her face. Her fingers went to her hair and she groaned even louder.

Sean grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head. "I'm not kidding. You do look beautiful."

Her expression turned serious. "About last night, I-"

He dropped a kiss on her lips. "What about last night?"

"We share a bedroom," she said, "and we pretend to be husband and wife. But that wasn't about pretending last night, right?"

"I wasn't faking anything," Sean said, his expression serious. "Were you?"

A pretty blush stained her cheeks and she burrowed her face into his shoulder. "No, it was all very real… and wonderful." She looked up at him. "Do you have any regrets?"

Sean pressed his lips to her forehead. "No."

To his surprise, he realized he was telling the truth. He'd never in his life made love to a woman without regrets. The morning after had always been uncomfortable for him, especially since he didn't allow himself to hang around that long. Going in, he'd always known there wasn't a chance for a real relationship, and that had always caused an uneasy guilt the day after.

But with Laurel he felt nothing but utter contentment. He could imagine a relationship with her, going out to movies and dinner, spending quiet nights at home watching a ball game, waking up in each other's arms and making love all night long.

Everything he'd been avoiding for so long had now come to pass. He'd played the Mighty Quinn and he'd lost his heart. But oddly, it didn't feel like a loss. There wasn't an empty space where his heart had once been. Instead, when he was with Laurel, he felt as if his heart were growing, breaking the shell that had protected it for so long.

"I'll go get us some breakfast. You stay in bed."

"Toast," she murmured. "And coffee. No Irish breakfast."

He bent and kissed her cheek. "Toast and coffee."

Sean tugged on his jeans, not bothering with boxers, then grabbed a shirt. He glanced over at Laurel as she closed her eyes again, her hand curled near her face.

Maybe he shouldn't have stepped into that shower last night, but an irresistible force had drawn him there, a force he couldn't deny any longer. Since the first time he'd kissed her, Sean had known it would come to this. There was something about Laurel that made him forget all his fears. With her, he felt both safe and completely out of control, two feelings that he'd never really experienced before.

Here he was a thirty-year-old man, and he'd never allowed himself to get close to any woman he'd ever known. He'd never had a real relationship-at least nothing that involved mutual trust and honest emotion. Until now. With Laurel, it was real.

Sean sighed as he stopped at the top of the stairs. Hell, he should know what was going on. The Quinn family curse had struck again. He'd rescued Laurel from a marriage to a con man and another Quinn had fallen victim. Yet now that he had, it didn't really bother him. Spending time with Laurel made him feel good… happy.

As he walked down the stairs, he heard the doorbell ring. "I'll get it, Alistair," he called. He didn't hear a reply from the butler so he continued to the door. When he found Eddie Perkins waiting on the other side, he regretted ever heeding the bell.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Sean demanded.

Eddie frowned. "Do I know you?"

Sean stepped out of the house and closed the door behind him. "You don't remember me?"

Eddie shook his head slowly, then stopped. "Oh, yeah. You're that guy. The one who was there when they arrested me. I asked you to-" Suddenly the significance of Sean's presence hit him. "Hey, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here to keep you away from Laurel," Sean muttered. "Why aren't you in jail?"

"I was," Eddie said. "My second wife posted bail. She has a very forgiving nature."

"Get out of here," Sean warned. "If I see you around Laurel again, I'll beat the crap out of you."

"I have every right to see her. She's still my fiancée."

"She was your fiancée," Sean reminded him.

"Missing our wedding wasn't my choice. And I want to make it up to her. We were in love once and I think we could be again."

"She never loved you. Believe me. And believe this:

I'm going to do whatever it takes to protect her from scum like you."

"Hey, I can understand. You've got a mark here with a boatload of money. There aren't many pigeons as beautiful as Laurel Rand out there, waiting to be plucked. But remember who introduced you. The least you could do is spread the wealth."

"Would you like me to hit you now or would you like a running start?"

Eddie held up his hands. "You think about it. I don't want to make trouble. I just want my fair share of the pie." With that, he turned around and hopped into the Benz convertible that was parked in the drive. "Tell Laurel I'll be back."

Sean cursed softly. The last thing he-or Laurel-needed right now was another visit from Eddie Perkins. If he decided to cause trouble, then this whole charade would be over more quickly than either he or Laurel wanted. He turned and walked back into the house. Alistair stood in the middle of the doorway. "Who was at the door?"

"No one," Sean said. "Wrong address."

Alistair regarded him with a suspicious look, his eyebrow arched. "Are you and Miss Laurel ready for breakfast? I can put something out for you in the breakfast room. Perhaps an Irish breakfast?"

"We'll be down in fifteen minutes," Sean said. He took the stairs two at a time. When he slipped back into Laurel's room, he found her still curled up beneath the covers. He crawled across the bed and tugged at the comforter. "Laurel. Are you awake?"

"I am now," she murmured.

"Eddie was just here."

Laurel rubbed her eyes and sighed. "Eddie who?"

"Edward. The man you were supposed to marry."

The sleepy expression faded from her face as she sprung upright. "Eddie was here?"

"Don't worry. No one saw him. I answered the door and he was there. He says he wants to talk to you. He says he still loves you." Sean watched her face for a reaction. "Do you still love him?"

"No!" Laurel cried. "I told you, I never did."

"Then you were marrying him just for the money?"

She took a moment before she shrugged. "We were compatible. At least, I thought we were. I didn't realize he was a bigamist or a con man. And I needed to get married. What do you think he wants?"

"You. And your money," Sean said.

"He could cause problems. What if Sinclair finds out?"

"Maybe it's time to talk to your uncle. To tell him the truth. We can't keep this up forever. He's bound to find out."

She crawled out of bed and grabbed her robe, draping it over her naked body. His gaze fell to the spot where the front gaped open, revealing the soft swell of her breast, a breast he'd enjoyed just the previous night. "I-I don't want to tell him. Not now. Not yet."

"Eddie isn't going away. I know guys like him. He'll be back."

"I can deal with Edward," she said.

Sean cursed softly. "I don't want you to deal with him."

Laurel slowly turned and stared at him, her mouth agape. "I don't believe you just said that. You don't want me to deal with him? You sound just like a husband. You know, I've taken care of myself for seven years now and I've done a pretty good job."

Her mood had changed so quickly, he couldn't adjust. "Oh, right," Sean snapped. "You were about to marry a bigamist until he got arrested. Then you hired me to step in for the groom to help you scam your uncle out of five million."

Her jaw went tight and she crossed her arms beneath her breasts. "I am not trying to scam him."

Sean shrugged. "Then what are you doing, Laurel?"

"What I'm doing is none of your business. You're getting paid to do a job and to keep your mouth shut. If you can't do that, then maybe you ought to leave now." She stalked to the door and yanked it open, only to find Alistair waiting on the other side.

"Breakfast," he said in a cheery voice.

"I'm not hungry," Laurel muttered. She slipped past him, leaving the butler to gaze at Sean in confusion.

"A little tiff, I presume?" he asked.

Sean shook his head. "I don't know what I said. But she's definitely mad."

Alistair strolled into the room and placed the breakfast tray on the bed. "Would you care for a bit of advice?"

Sean moved to the edge of the bed and raked his hands through his hair. "Yeah, I guess so."

"Give Miss Laurel a few hours to cool down. She can be a very determined woman and when she has her mind set on something, she doesn't let anything get in her way, including her impulsive nature. Or a crusty old gentleman who cares more about his stamps than his niece. Or a handsome young man pretending to be her husband."

Sean smiled and nodded. "Thanks, Alistair." He picked up the silver cover on one of the plates and inhaled the scent of another Irish breakfast. "If I ever get rich, I'm going to hire a butler just like you. I don't know how I ever got along without you."

Alistair nodded, clearly pleased by the compliment. "Thank you, sir."