Part 6 (1/2)
Without a moment's hesitation, Sean spun around, caught their waitress's eye and said, ”Be a love and bring us two of whatever's first on your dinner menu.”
The woman frowned. ”We don't have a dinner menu. Just appetizers and finger foods.”
Her mouth twitching as she tried to contain a smile, Annie murmured, ”Too bad.”
”Bring one of each of those, then,” Sean told the woman. Once she'd gone, he turned to meet Annie's eye. ”It's dinnertime, and even if it's naught but a bit of cheese on a cracker, I'm counting anything you put in your mouth.”
The way his stare zoned in on her lips, Annie suddenly thought of a number of things she'd like to put there. Starting with his tongue. And moving on down his body to the many varied and interesting parts she couldn't see beneath the table.
”All right,” she admitted, amus.e.m.e.nt now tempered with a very thick layer of physical awareness. ”This is number one.”
Nodding in agreement, he lifted his drink in salute. ”Brilliant. Two to go.”
She lifted her winegla.s.s as well, watching him over the rim of it. Wondering if he could take a little torment as good as he could give it, she murmured, ”But I'm busy tomorrow night, and Friday I have to work late.”
”Thursday then.” He grew serious. ”Let me take you out on the intimate dinner date I had offered at the auction.”
”You don't have to do that,” she insisted. ”I know I put you on the spot about the weekend. I don't expect you to really take me out to some fancy restaurant, too.”
”I want to.” He reached across the table and covered her hand with his. ”If for no other reason than the chance to see you in that pretty yellow dress again.”
She stared at their hands on the wooden bar table, noting the coolness of his skin, the elegance of his fingers, the perfect manicure, the expensive-looking watch.
How he managed it on a paramedic's salary, she didn't know. He looked like some rich, foreign prince. Judging by some of the things he'd said about his family, she had to wonder if he came from money, and merely chose to do something none of them had ever expected. As she she had. had.
Then she glanced down at her clothes-the uniform s.h.i.+rt, the spit-up stain, the finger paint-and sighed. How incredible might it be to actually throw off the ident.i.ty she wore here in Chicago-the nice, nurturing, small-town girl who took care of rich people's kids-and become a worthy companion to this worldly, sensual man?
”Say yes,” he insisted, realizing she was waffling. ”Please, Annie. I agreed to this weekend. The least you can do is join me for dinner.”
Dressing up and going out somewhere special with Sean sounded irresistible. Especially when he appealed to her in that low, intimate tone, with his s.e.xy accent taking those sultry bites out of every one of her defenses.
”Come.”
”All right,” she finally murmured, wondering if she'd have time to go out shopping for yet another dress. ”Thursday it is.”
Before he could respond, their food began to arrive. Annie deliberately met Sean's eye as she lifted a quesadilla to her mouth. Licking her lips, she bit into it, and saw his huge grin in response. Now Now it was official. it was official.
But she wasn't ready to let him completely off the hook yet. ”Sean?” she murmured after she'd finished it.
”Yes?”
”You do realize that if this is number one, and Thursday is number two...our third date is going to be back on the farm where we're surrounded by my entire family?”
The man's mouth opened and quickly snapped closed. His broad shoulders slumped the tiniest bit as he sat back in the booth, eyeing her across the expanse of the table. He mumbled something under his breath, reached for his beer, then obviously noted the sparkle in her eye. ”Brat.”
”Hey, don't shoot the messenger.”
He didn't give up. ”How late do you have to work Friday?”
Seeing right through him, she replied, ”Late. I'll be at the center, surrounded by lots-and lots-of screaming babies.”
This time there was no mistaking the words that came out of his mouth.
”b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l.”
4.
”FATHER SAW YOUR picture on the Chicago paper's Web site. Do you pay off reporters to splash your face in the society pages, just to infuriate him?” picture on the Chicago paper's Web site. Do you pay off reporters to splash your face in the society pages, just to infuriate him?”
Sean's twenty-year-old sister hadn't even said h.e.l.lo when he'd answered her call Thursday afternoon. She'd simply gone straight to the point, amus.e.m.e.nt lacing her tone.
”h.e.l.lo to you, too, Moira.”
”A charity bachelor auction? I thought he was going to choke on his morning biscuits.”
”He's all right, though?” Sean asked, grudgingly concerned. The old man was a pain in the a.r.s.e, but he didn't actually wish him ill. He just wanted him to concede that simply because he had supplied the sperm to impregnate Sean's mother, and had then paid her off to stay out of Sean's life, that didn't mean he owned his son, mind, body and soul.
”He's fine. Ranting and raving about the house, wondering why you haven't given up this foolish playboy lifestyle and come home to 'take your rightful place' in the family.”
”That's never going to happen,” Sean said, running a frustrated hand through his hair. He sat on the edge of his bed, a huge, king-size monstrosity only to be found in America. It dominated the bedroom of the elegant hotel suite. ”You'd think he'd have figured that out after all this time.”
”Oh, I'm sure he has. He misses you dreadfully. dreadfully. He's just too proud to say so.” He's just too proud to say so.”
No doubt about that. Their father was old school, all the way, and refused to admit defeat. Ever. Ever.
Sean had always known that, growing up on the family estate in County Wicklow. Traditions ran as deep and thick as the stone walls of the Murphy family home. The air within it smelled of the building's two-hundred-year history and carried a weight of responsibility that had suffocated Sean from the moment he'd been old enough to understand the words ”our family name.”
But it wasn't until he'd turned twenty-one and learned just just how demanding the old man could be that he'd realized he had to get away. Because on that birthday, his father had informed him that he'd arranged Sean's marriage. Sean's father and his oldest friend had hatched up a union between their children before said children had even taken their first steps, like some pair of feudal kings out of the Dark Ages. how demanding the old man could be that he'd realized he had to get away. Because on that birthday, his father had informed him that he'd arranged Sean's marriage. Sean's father and his oldest friend had hatched up a union between their children before said children had even taken their first steps, like some pair of feudal kings out of the Dark Ages.
It still boggled the mind.
”Do you think he's learned his lesson?” Moira asked, sounding almost tentative. ”I mean, I turn twenty-one in the fall. And Maureen's younger brother James is still single.”
Maureen was Sean's supposed fiancee who, he heard, had married a few years ago and was living quite happily in Galway.
”James was such a bully when we were kids. Dad wouldn't wouldn't...”
”h.e.l.l, no, he wouldn't,” Sean snapped. ”He might not be able to admit that he was bullheaded and stubborn about me, but he's not foolish enough to push you out the door, too.”
At least, Sean hoped.
”If he does...I can come to you, can't I?”
He had absolutely no place in his world for a twenty-one-year-old girl. Not even a real home-just a couple of apartments in different cities in the world, nothing resembling stability. Nor did he believe that would ever make Moira happy. While Sean might have been desperate to leave home, his younger sister was never happier than when riding her horses or socializing with her friends right there in Wicklow.
But he would never refuse her. ”It won't come to that, but, yes, Moira. You'll always have a home with me if you need it.”