Sean

Chapter 7

Laurel raked her hair out of her eyes and slowly descended the stairs, following the scent of coffee. Since Alistair was still in New York with Sinclair, Sean must have risen early-at least, earlier than 10:00 a.m., which was when she'd finally rolled out of bed.

She'd spent a restless night, unable to sleep or to stop thinking about Sean. Somewhere in the house, he'd fallen into a bed and she wondered if he'd slept at all or if he, too, had been plagued with memories of the night they'd spent together. It seemed so silly to sleep alone when they'd shared so much passion just twenty-four hours before.

After their dinner conversation, she felt closer than ever to Sean. They'd tipped the balance of their relationship and she didn't want to set it right again. This was now as much about pleasure as it was about business.

Did he really care for her or was this still just about a paycheck? What would he do if she suddenly decided not to pay him? She'd promised him twenty thousand at the end of their month together, but what if she informed him that she didn't plan to pay? That it, in fact, didn't feel right to pay? Would he still want to stay? Did his feelings for her run deep enough to survive the end of their "marriage"?

Laurel sighed, then stopped to study her reflection in a tall mirror. What had begun as such a simple plan had turned her life upside down. And the man she'd hired to be her husband had become something so much more. Falling in love with Sean Quinn hadn't been part of the plan.

Satisfied that she looked as good as she could in her sleep-deprived state, Laurel pushed open the swinging door of the kitchen. She froze when she saw a pretty woman standing next to Sean, sipping a cup of coffee and chatting with him. She was dressed in a flattering summer dress that hugged her slender figure.

They both turned to look at her and Sean smiled. "Good morning," he said. He crossed the room and took Laurel's arm, pulling her toward the stranger. His touch should have sent her pulse racing, but she felt as if her heart had ground to a stop.

"Hi," Laurel said, glancing back and forth between the two of them.

The woman stepped forward and held out her hand. "Hi. I'm Amy Quinn. I'm Sean's sister-in-law. You must be Laurel."

The tiny stab of jealousy she'd felt a moment ago slowly faded as she shook Amy's hand. "Hello." She glanced over at Sean. "Have you come to visit Sean?"

"She's come to see you," he said. "I asked Amy to stop by."

His response caught her off guard. Why would Sean ask a member of his family to visit her? Though she'd met Seamus, Sean hadn't seemed anxious to introduce her to any other Quinns.

"I came to talk to you about your plan," Amy explained.

Stunned, Laurel sent Sean an accusing glare. "You told her about our plan? Did you tell her about Eddie? About how he-"

"Who's Eddie?" Amy asked.

"That's another plan." Sean turned back to Laurel. "I didn't tell her about that plan. I told her about your plan. For the children's center. I thought she might want to hear about it. Amy runs a charitable foundation. She gives people money for good causes."

"I don't give money away-the foundation board does," Amy corrected.

Laurel glanced back and forth between them. "But I don't-"

"Just tell her what you want to do," Sean insisted. He stepped over to the counter and poured a cup of coffee, then handed it to Laurel. "I put some doughnuts on the table outside. Why don't you go out there and talk?"

Given that she really had no choice in the matter, Laurel nodded. Amy Quinn seemed like a nice enough person. And if Sean thought his sister-in-law had something to offer, then the least Laurel could do was listen.

"So, I understand you and Sean got married last weekend," Amy said as they strolled out to the terrace.

Laurel stumbled slightly. "He told you about that?"

"No. I got that through the Quinn family grapevine. It's becoming a very effective way to get news."

"We aren't really married," Laurel said. "It was just for show. It's a long story."

"That's too bad. About the marriage, I mean. He seems to care about you very much. I've never seen him so… smitten."

They sat and Laurel set her coffee in front of her. "He's a very special man."

Amy picked up a doughnut and laughed. "Good grief, if they aren't eating a heaping plate of cholesterol for breakfast, the Quinn boys are scarfing down pounds of refined sugar." She set the doughnut back on the plate and smiled at Laurel. "He is a very special man. And he deserves a special woman."

Her meaning couldn't have been any clearer. How wonderful it must be for Sean to have a family that looked out for him. She'd never really known that feeling, being an only child and losing her parents so early in her life. She envied Amy's place among the Quinns.

"Sean told me he has five brothers, but I don't know much about them. He doesn't say much."

"Tall, dark, handsome and very silent," Amy teased. "I have to say, our conversation before you joined us amounted to the most I'd ever heard him say. I don't know what you've done to him, but it's had a good effect."

"So his family is close?"

"Very close. All the brothers and Keely live in Boston. They're all married or engaged to be married. I'm married to Brendan, the third brother. Sean is the…" She frowned. "I can never remember if he's fourth or fifth. I think Brian popped out first."

"Popped out?"

She took a sip of her coffee, then reached inside her purse to retrieve a small pad of paper. "Sean has a twin brother, Brian. He's a reporter for the Globe. He used to be on WBTN. They're twins. Some people can't tell the difference, but I don't think they look anything alike."

Laurel swallowed a gasp. Sean had never told her he had a twin. Wasn't that the kind of news a guy shared with the woman he- She stopped short. He didn't love her. She was just the woman he'd slept with and there were no rules when it came to casual sex. In fact, the less information exchanged, the better.

"So, let's get down to business," Amy suggested. "I run the Aldrich-Sloane Family Foundation."

Laurel gasped, the name causing a sudden burst of memory. "You're Amy Aldrich Sloane! You were two years ahead of me at Sandborne Country Day. You probably don't remember me, but I remember you. You used to wear all that black leather with your school uniform. And you had that pink streak in your hair. I used to think you were so wild."

"I remember you," Amy said, her expression brightening. "Laurie Rand. My goodness, I didn't make the connection."

Laurel hadn't had many friends at school. After her mother had died, she'd withdrawn, unable to feel comfortable with friends who had whole and complete families. Amy probably remembered a lot more that went unsaid-Laurel Rand was the girl who sat alone at lunch, the girl who preferred the solitude of the library to the chatter of the quad, the girl who seemed to be lost among the crowd. Though she and Amy shared the same background, both of them from wealthy families, the Aldrich-Sloane fortune had been far more vast than the Rand fortune, a fact that put Amy way above Laurel in the pecking order at Sandborne Country Day.

Laurel had enough money to do one good thing, but Amy's family could do so much more. "I have a trust fund," Laurel began. "I was supposed to get it when I was twenty-six."

"Me, too," Amy said, nodding. "I never understood why twenty-six was such a magic number. Although I'm glad I had to wait. If I had gotten that money any earlier, I would have blown it all."

"I'm also required to be married. If I'm not, then I have to wait until I'm thirty-one, which will be too late."

"Too late?"

"I have a… a project. I want to start an after-school community center in Dorchester, near where I used to teach school." As she spoke about her project to a complete stranger, the dream of it began to become more of a reality. In her mind she could see the place as it might look two or three years from now, filled with children looking for that one thing that made them feel special, that one talent that they possessed that set them apart.

There had been so many times after her mother died, when she'd felt lost and alone, when just simple encouragement might have brightened an otherwise gloomy day. She wanted to give that to others. She wanted to give them wings.

"The center would specialize in the arts, offering free dance and music lessons, and drama and painting classes. And we'd have a space so that groups could come in and perform for the children, and a gallery where we could display some of the kids' work. I already have a building in Dorchester in mind, an old storefront, and I think it would be perfect. It's right on the bus line and-"

"How much do you have?" Amy asked.

"I don't have anything right now. But I should have five million soon."

"If that becomes the basis for your endowment, you can expect to bring in about three-hundred thousand a year in interest and that's if you invest wisely and the economy is good. That's almost enough to pay the bills and provide a salary for yourself and a staff. Five million sounds like a lot, but it really isn't."

Laurel's heart fell and tears pressed at the corners of her eyes. If Amy Quinn didn't think the project was possible, then maybe Laurel's dreams would never become reality. "You don't think I can make this work. But I know I can. I've been in the schools and there's so little time devoted to the arts. I want to give these kids more. And I-"

"I think it's a wonderful idea," Amy interrupted. "I'm just saying that I think you should try to get funding beyond what you have in your own trust fund. If you don't use your own money, it's going to be tougher, but it could still be done. Then your trust fund could be used for emergencies or as an endowment." She paused. "You still need to have money to renovate. We may be able to fund that. You'd need to put together a plan, a budget and an outline of your curriculum. But I think there's a good chance we can give you enough to get the place up and running. Of course, we'll need to see how you plan to keep the place running and where the money will come from. I can suggest some people who could help you apply for grants. There are a lot of other foundations that would probably give to such a great cause."

Laurel sat back in her chair. "I can't believe it," she said. "It can't be this easy."

"Oh, it will never be easy," Amy said. "But you seem to be passionate about this cause, and that's the most important thing." Amy glanced over her shoulder and Laurel followed her gaze, noticing Sean just inside the doorway, pacing back and forth. Amy waved at him, then handed Laurel a business card. "Call me and we'll set up an appointment. I'll help you with your proposal. And if the board approves it, you'll be on your way." She stood, but instead of shaking Laurel's hand, she gave her a quick hug. "I hope everything turns out for you, Laurel. Not just for your project, but with Sean. It would be nice if the Mighty Quinn curse finally claimed its last victim."

"The Mighty Quinn curse? What's that?"

Amy laughed. "It's a very long story. Maybe you can convince Sean to tell you about it sometime."

She walked to the door and gave Sean a kiss on the cheek as she passed. "I'll see myself out," Amy said. "And don't be such a stranger. Bring Laurel over to the pub sometime. Everyone is anxious to meet her."

Sean stepped out of the house and slowly crossed the terrace to where Laurel stood. A flood of emotion raced through her and she didn't know what to say. In one simple move, Sean had made her dream come true. With hard work and determination, she could make the center happen without her trust fund and without Sinclair's approval.

"Thank you," she said, not sure whether to laugh or to cry. "Thank you so much."

"It went well? She liked your idea?"

Laurel threw her arms around Sean's neck and hugged him hard. "Yes! She said it was a good idea. And if her board of directors agrees, her foundation will give me money to get the center started. All I have to do is-"

Her words were stopped by his kiss. Sean cupped her face in his hands as his mouth covered hers. A tiny moan slipped from her throat. It seemed as if weeks had passed since he'd last kissed her. In reality, it was barely twelve hours.

When he finished with her lips, he moved to her eyes and her nose. "I missed you," he murmured.

"I missed you, too."

"I didn't sleep last night. I couldn't."

"I couldn't, either," Laurel said. "Maybe we should go back to bed."

He hesitated for just a moment and Laurel thought he might find some excuse to refuse her invitation. But then he bent and swung her into his arms, carrying her through the house and up the stairs. Laurel wanted to thank him for all he'd done. And she couldn't think of a better way.

She was the most beautiful woman he'd ever touched, ever kissed. And Laurel was the only woman he'd ever loved. Sean moved above her, knowing his release was just a heartbeat away. This had to be love. He'd never felt anything as powerful as what he felt for Laurel when he was deep inside of her.

He rolled to the side and pulled her on top of him, her legs straddling his hips. But the sight of her naked body, her hair curled around her face, her skin gleaming in the low light, was more than he could handle. He grabbed her hips and stopped her from moving, holding his breath as he fought his release.

"Don't," he murmured. "Don't move."

Laurel opened her eyes, smiled at him, then brushed a kiss across his lips. "I won't move." A current of pleasure shot through him as she shifted above him, but he refused to give in.

He took her face in his hands, furrowing his fingers through her hair. Laurel arched back, closing her eyes as she braced her hands on his chest. He wanted to tell her how he felt, but he was afraid if he said it out loud and she didn't return his sentiments, he might never be able to say the words again. This feeling he had when they were together, this undeniable need to possess her and to move inside her, to lose himself in her body, would never go away-even if she did.

Sean reached between them and touched her, bringing her closer to the edge. Laurel moaned, then moved against his hand. And then, suddenly, she sucked in a sharp breath and shuddered. Sean felt her body spasm around him and, without moving, he let himself come.

His orgasm was quiet yet powerful and he watched her cry out in pleasure, his shaft still buried to the hilt. His heart slammed in his chest and he gasped when she finally moved, taking the last he had to offer. With a low moan, Laurel collapsed on top of him, nuzzling her face into his neck.

"We can take a nap, if you like," she murmured.

He stroked her back from her nape to the delicious curve of her backside, enjoying the feel of her skin beneath his palms. "I'm not sleepy anymore."

Laurel pushed up next to him, her hair tickling his chest. "Amy said something to me earlier. She said you'd been cursed. A family curse. What did she mean?"

"It's stupid," he said.

"Tell me," Laurel insisted.

He'd opened his heart to her already, each time surprised at how easy it was. At first, he'd thought it was just Laurel and the trust he felt when he was with her. But maybe it more about the "marriage" they shared. He'd had a chance to experience what marriage might be. He'd allowed himself to believe that she might be there for him, not just for a day or a month, but for the rest of his life.

All the benefits of marriage, but without the commitment, he mused. Suddenly, avoiding the Quinn curse didn't seem so important. "My father used to tell us stories when we were younger about our Mighty Quinn ancestors. Our ancestors were always strong and clever and heroic. A lot of the stories he told were old Irish fables and myths, but he always gave them a twist. The women characters were always the enemy."

"Why was that?"

Sean shrugged. "My da was a man scorned by a woman and he wanted to protect us from the same fate. The stories had the desired effect. Seamus Quinn's six sons were bachelors, until the family curse hit a few years ago."

"What is the curse?"

"I'm not sure if there really is one. My da thinks it goes way back in Ireland-he's got some story that explains it all. Here in Boston, it started with Conor. He met his wife, Olivia, when he rescued her from a local mobster. And Dylan rescued Meggie from a fire, and Brendan saved Amy from a bar brawl."

"I don't understand how that can be a curse," Laurel said. "A curse is a bad thing and they did good things."

"The curse is that they fell in love with the women they rescued," Sean explained. "In Seamus's eyes, my brothers were victims, not heroes. And I'm the last one left."

Laurel ran her fingers over his forehead, pushing his hair out of his eyes. "If you don't want to be a victim, then don't rescue anyone."

"I already did," Sean said.

"Who?"

"You. I saved you from Edward."

A long silence grew between them as the implications of his words sank in. Maybe he didn't have to tell her that he loved her. Maybe she'd understand on her own. If he believed in the curse, then it wasn't a choice for him-he was destined to love her.

"Tell me one of those stories," she said.

Sean groaned. "I'm not good with the stories. Brendan is the best. And Brian tells a pretty good tale. I'll just mess it up."

"Try," she said. She bit his neck playfully. "If you tell me a story; I'll give you ten kisses."

"Ten? I'll settle for twenty."

"Fifteen," she said. "Fifteen very long, deep, wet kisses for one story. It's a fair price. You're not going to get a better deal anywhere else."

Sean didn't have any intention of shopping around. He liked the way Laurel kissed. "I'll tell you a story about a merrow named Duana. A merrow is like a mermaid. Very beautiful. Mermen aren't seen often, but in ancient Ireland, the merrows often took mortals as their lovers. There are some Irish families who actually believe they descend from the merrows." He paused. "I want a down payment."

Laurel giggled and then kissed him, putting everything she had into it, seducing him with her lips and her tongue, pressing her naked body against his. "Go on," she said when she finished.

"Duana, like the other merrows, dressed in a cloak made of sealskin, and when she wrapped herself in her cloak, she could swim in the deepest, coldest water, just like a seal. But to walk on land, she had to leave her cloak at the edge of the water. This was dangerous. If a mortal found a merrow's cloak, then he had power over her and she couldn't return to the sea. This is what happened with Duana. One day, Kelan Quinn, a poor fisherman, found her cloak and took it, thinking that it might keep him warm in the damp winters of Ireland. He knew that it was a valuable cloak and so he hid it well in the thatched roof of his cottage for safekeeping until winter came."

"If a merrow doesn't go back to the sea, will she die?"

Sean frowned. "I don't think so. Conor would probably know. I think they just long for the sea because it's their home. Many farmers and fishermen wanted to trap a merrow because merrows are very rich. They have chests of gold and silver and jewels that they've taken from shipwrecks. But Kelan didn't know that he'd taken the cloak of a merrow. And when a beautiful woman appeared at his door the next day, he let her inside.

"Merrows are part of the fairy world and so they don't really care about mortals, except to use them as lovers now and then. But mortals can fall in love with merrows and this happened to Kelan. Duana was so beautiful that he wanted her for his wife. But Duana told him that she couldn't marry him until he gave her a gift. Kelan was a poor fisherman and could think of nothing that Duana might appreciate. He had a few pence in his pocket, but that was all. He was desperate to find something to convince Duana of his love. And then he thought of the sealskin cloak. He retrieved it from his roof and Duana slipped it on. With a laugh, she ran down to the sea and jumped in, disappearing beneath the waves."

"What happened to Kelan?" Laurel asked.

"He was devastated. He thought he'd fallen in love with a madwoman, so he dove into the sea and began to search for her, hoping to save Duana from drowning. But the sea was cold and he couldn't stay in the water long. Again and again, he went back to shore and as soon as he could, he swam back out to the sea. Exhausted, he dove one last time and as the water overwhelmed him he came face to face with Duana, her long hair swirling around her head. She took his hand and pulled him deeper and deeper. And only then did Kelan realize who and what she really was. He tore her cloak from her body and swam hard for the surface, wrapping himself in the sealskin."

"What happened to Duana?"

"She died. And Kelan, clever Quinn that he was, used her cloak to swim in the sea and retrieved the treasure Duana had collected. The poor fisherman became the richest man in his village because he'd outsmarted a merrow."

Sean didn't realize until he'd finished the story how many parallels there were between him and Laurel and the poor fisherman and his beautiful merrow. Like the merrow, Laurel had seduced him, and though she was wealthy, the treasure of her body was what Sean really coveted. Would she pull him under like Duana had? And if she did, would he be able to escape?

"The end," Sean added. "I told you I wasn't good with the stories."

"No," Laurel said. "You told it very well. It just doesn't have a very happy ending. And it's not very romantic."

"But to my father, the story taught a valuable lesson."

"Don't steal coats from the beach?" Laurel asked.

Sean chuckled. "No. Beware of beautiful women."

"And what about me?" Laurel asked. "Are you supposed to beware of me?"

Grabbing her waist, he rolled her over and pinned her beneath him. Staring down at her exquisite features, Sean still couldn't believe the luck that had brought him into her life. "You? I have to be very careful around you. I think you could break my heart if you wanted to."

Laurel reached up and ran her hand over his cheek. "Why would I break your heart?" Her hand moved to his chest. "Your heart is what I love most about you."

Sean's breath stilled in his throat as the impact of her words hit him full force. Had she just said she loved him? He should have felt a wild sense of exhilaration, and he did, for one brief moment. But then, an uneasy fear set in. He wanted to believe her words, but she'd said them so casually, tossed them out there as if they really didn't mean a thing.

He kissed her, losing himself in the sweet taste of her mouth, hoping to soothe his doubts with the pleasures her body offered. Would he be like Kelan Quinn, lured into love and then tricked out of it? Or could he chart his own course, putting all those stories about his Quinn ancestors behind him?

For now, he'd keep his feelings locked safely away. And someday, maybe, he'd be brave… or clever… or strong enough to hand Laurel the key.

"I think you'll need to replace all these windows."

Laurel stood beside Sean, a clipboard clutched in her hand. "How much do you think windows cost? Maybe we should just try to replace the broken glass. That would be cheaper, wouldn't it?"

Sean slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her close. They'd come to Dorchester to evaluate the building, but it was clear that neither of them had a clue as to what needed to be done to make it habitable. In truth, he'd have rather stayed at home, in bed with Laurel, the way they had for the past three days.

It had been a honeymoon of sorts that began after Alistair called to say that he and Sinclair would be staying in New York for a few extra days. Night had turned into day and then back to night again and they'd been unaware of the world outside the house. They'd slept when they were tired and made love beside the pool in the middle of the night. Food varied from pizza to Chinese, whatever could be delivered. Sean had always thought of a honeymoon as a silly excuse to take a trip. But now he knew just what purpose it served. He felt as if he and Laurel had become one person, two sides of the same coin, completely in sync with each other's bodies and thoughts, needs and desires.

He glanced down at her, noticing the tiny lines of stress around her mouth. The urge to wipe them away with a kiss was strong, but he decided against it. "We'll need screens so we can open the windows," she murmured, scribbling on her pad.

"I think you're going to want to air-condition this place," Sean said. "You'll have to run duct work since this is all radiant heat. But you've got high ceilings and they can leave it exposed."

"What's radiant heat?" Laurel asked.

"Those radiators over there have hot water in them and they radiate heat instead of forced air which-" Sean sighed. "We're not going to be able to do this. Give me your cell phone." As she rummaged through her purse, Sean grabbed his wallet and found the business card he'd saved. He took the phone from Laurel and punched in a number.

"Who are you calling? Do you know an air-conditioning guy?"

The receptionist at Kencor answered after one ring. "Rafe Kendrick, please. Tell him it's his brother-in-law, Sean Quinn."

A few moments later Rafe came on the line. "Sean. Hi. What's up? Is everything all right?"

The surprise of hearing from Sean was apparent in Rafe's voice. Sean wasn't sure he'd ever carried on a conversation with his brother-in-law. He had held Rafe's arms to help out when the other Quinn men had been all set to pummel him, but that had been the extent of their contact. Rafe hadn't exactly been welcomed into the Quinn family, though the brothers had called a truce since he and Keely had married. "I need a favor," Sean said.

"Anything. What can I do for you?"

"I have a friend who wants to renovate a building in Dorchester. It's in pretty rough shape and she needs to get an estimate of the costs."

"Does she have an architectural plan?" Rafe asked.

"No, I don't think so."

"Well, she'll need that first."

"She doesn't have a lot of money for this project," Sean said. "She wants to turn the building into a community center for children."

"Ah, this is the woman Amy met. Keely talked to Amy and she mentioned that you had a…" His voice faded. "Well, why don't I send over one of my architects? We'll get him started with some rough sketches."

"How much is this going to cost?" Sean asked.

"Don't worry about that. This is family. Give me the address and I'll send someone over. Are you there now?"

"Yeah." Sean gave Rafe the address.

"I'll have someone there in thirty minutes. Once your friend has a plan, I'll have someone on my staff work up some estimates. I've got a lot of contractors who owe me favors. I could use my-"

"No," Sean said. "You've done enough. Thanks. I appreciate it."

"No problem," he said.

Sean turned off the phone and handed it back to Laurel. "We're all set," he said. "Rafe is sending an architect over to talk to you about your plans."

"I can't afford to pay an-"

"Don't worry. He's doing a favor. I'm family."

Laurel shook her head. "Family," she repeated. "It's like the Quinns are a corporation. Is there anything you can't get done?"

"Probably not. Amy can fund the place, Rafe can fix it up. Brian can probably write a story for the Globe and Liam can take promotional photos. Olivia could track down some used furniture and Lily could get you some good PR. And Eleanor is a banker, so she could keep track of the money."

"And what will you do for me?"

Sean grinned and dropped a kiss on her lips. "I provide relaxation and moral support."

Laurel hugged him, then pulled away and wandered over to an old sink that hung from the wall. "What are you going to use your money for?"

"What money?" Sean asked.

She slowly turned. "The money I'm paying you. What are you going to do with it?"

Sean had forgotten all about the money. That's what had drawn him to her in the first place, but now it seemed insignificant. "I was thinking about getting an office. I've been putting some cash away lately. It's hard to get corporate clients when I'm working out of my apartment. I need a place to do business."

"Is private investigations pretty lucrative?"

"For some guys." Not for Bert Hinshaw, Sean mused. The old P.I. had never even made enough to buy himself a decent suit. And now that he was getting on in years, he had nothing to show for his life, except a beat-up Cadillac convertible and a drinking habit that drained his wallet as quickly as he could fill it. Sean didn't want to end up like Bert. He wanted a life he could be proud of, a life that meant something.

"What about you?" Laurel asked.

Her reasons for asking were clear. A rich girl like Laurel Rand couldn't marry an ordinary guy like Sean Quinn. Hell, he usually had to scrape together spare change to pay the rent. He drove a beat-up car and didn't even own a decent suit. And she had five million burning a hole in her pocket. "I'm never going to be a millionaire like you," he said.

"Is that important to you?"

"No. Is it important to you?"

Laurel shook her head. "Don't get me wrong. It's nice to have money. But I'd give every last dollar back to have a family. To have a mother and father. And sisters and brothers. People who care about me. It sounds trite, but money can't buy everything. It can't buy love."

"It bought you a husband," Sean said.

She smiled weakly. "But only for a month. After the month is up, you're going to go home. Maybe even sooner if Amy approves my plan." She wandered across the room and began to measure the windows on the far wall.

Suddenly, Sean regretted his call to Rafe. If Amy funded Laurel's project, then Laurel would have no use for his services. She'd write him a check and send him packing. A knot tightened in his gut when he thought about leaving Laurel. He wasn't ready to let her go, wasn't ready to be dismissed from her life. Yet he wasn't ready to ask her to marry him, either.

There was an easy way to know how she really felt, he mused. He could simply throw all his cards on the table and admit he was madly in love with her. Sean knew he'd be able to see her response in her eyes. Over the past week he'd learned to read her feelings pretty well.

If he knew how she felt, if he could somehow be assured that her feelings would last, then maybe he could take the chance. But he had to be careful not to expect too much. Even if Laurel did love him, what guarantees did he have that she'd feel the same way in a month or a year or ten years? Fiona Quinn had loved her husband and her family and she'd walked away when times got tough. Laurel could do the same.

Sean combed his fingers through his hair. Why had things been so easy for his brothers and so complicated for himself? They'd all fallen in love and known exactly what they wanted in a matter of weeks.

Maybe this wasn't the Quinn family curse at all. And maybe Laurel wasn't the woman he was destined to love for the rest of his life. Or maybe he just needed a little more time.