then laughed a second later. “Dunley? You want to open a design shop in the village?”
Irritated, she scowled at him. And he’d been doing so nicely on the understanding thing, too. “What’s wrong with that?”
“Well, let’s just say I can’t see Danny Muldoon hiring you to give the Pennywhistle pub a makeover anytime soon.”
“Funny,” she muttered.
“Ah now,” Sean said, smile still firmly in place, “don’t get yourself in a twist. I’m only saying that perhaps the city might be a better spot for a design shop.”
Still frowning, she gave him a regal half nod. “Maybe. But Dunley is about halfway between Galway and Westport—two big cities, you’ll agree—”
“I do.”
“So, the village is centrally located, and I’d rather be in a small town than a big one anyway. And I can buy a cottage close by and walk to work. Living in the village, I’ll be a part of things as I wouldn’t if I lived in Galway and only visited on weekends. And,” she added, on a roll, “I’d be close to Laura to visit or help with the baby. Not to mention—”
“You’re right, absolutely.” He held up both hands, then noticed his champagne glass was nearly empty. He refilled his, and hers, and then lifted his glass in a toast. “I’m sorry I doubted you for a moment. You’ve thought this through.”
“I really have,” she said, a little mellower now, thanks not only to the wine, but to the gleam of admiration in Sean’s gaze. “I want to do this. I’m going to do this,” she added, a promise to herself and the universe at large.
“And so you will, I’ve no doubt,” Sean told her, leaning forward. “To the start of more than one new life this day. I wish you happiness, Georgia, with your decision and your shop.”
“Thanks,” she said, clinking her glass against his, making the heavy crystal sing. “I appreciate it.”
When they’d both had a sip to seal the toast, Sean mused, “So we’ll be neighbors.”
“We will.”
“And friends.”
“That, too,” she agreed, feeling just a little unsettled by his steady stare and the twisting sensation in the pit of her stomach.
“And as your friend,” Sean said softly, “I think I should tell you that when you’re excited about something, your eyes go as dark as a twilight sky.”
Two
“What?”
Sean watched the expression on her face shift from confusion to a quick flash of desire that was born and then gone again in a blink. But he’d seen it, and his response to it was immediate.
“Am I making you nervous, Georgia?”
“No,” she said and he read the lie in the way she let her gaze slide from his. After taking another sip of champagne, she licked a stray drop from her lip, and Sean’s insides fisted into knots.
Odd, he’d known Georgia for about a year now and though he’d been attracted, he’d never before been tempted. Now he was. Most definitely. Being here with her in the fire-lit shadows while rain pattered at the windows was, he thought, more than tempting. There was an intimacy here, two people who had shared a hellishly long day together. Now, in the quiet shadows, there was something new and … compelling rising up between them.
He knew she felt it, too, despite the wary gleam in her eyes as she watched him. Still, he wanted her breathless, not guarded, so he eased back and gave her a half smile. “I’m only saying you’re a beautiful woman, Georgia.”
“Hmm …” She tipped her head to one side, studying him.
“Surely it’s not the first time you’ve heard that from a man.”
“Oh, no,” she answered. “Men actually chase me down the street to tell me I have twilight eyes.”
He grinned. He did appreciate a quick wit. “Maybe I’m just more observant than most men.”
“And maybe you’re up to something,” she said thoughtfully. “What is it, Sean?”
“Not a thing,” he said, all innocence.
“Well, that’s good.” She nodded and reached down absently to rub at the arch of her foot. “I mean, we both know anything else would just be … complicated.”
“Aye, it would at that,” he agreed, and admitted silently that complicated might be worth it. “Your feet hurt?”
“What?” She glanced down to where her hand rubbed the arch of her right foot and smiled ruefully. “Yeah, they do.”
“A long day of standing, wasn’t it?”
“It was.”
She sipped at her champagne and a log shifted in the fire. As the flames hissed and spat, she closed her eyes—a little dreamily, he thought, and he felt that fist inside him tighten even further. The woman was unknowingly seducing him.
Logic and a stern warning sounded out in his mind, and he firmly shut them down. There was a time for a cool head, and there was a time for finding out just where the road you found yourself on would end up. So far, he liked this particular road very much.
He set his glass on the table in front of them, then sat back and dragged her feet onto his lap. Georgia looked at him and he gave her a quick grin. “I’m offering a one-night-only special. A foot rub.”
“Sean …”
He knew what she was thinking because his own mind was running along the same paths. Back up—or, stay the course and see what happened. As she tried to draw her feet away, he held them still in his lap and pushed his thumbs into her arch.
She groaned and let her head fall back and he knew he had her.
“Oh, that feels too good,” she whispered, as he continued to rub and stroke her skin.
“Just enjoy it for a bit then,” he murmured.
That had her lifting her head to look at him with the wariness back, glinting in those twilight depths. “What’re you up to?”
“Your ankles,” he said, sliding his hands higher to match his words. “Give me a minute, though, and ask again.”
She laughed as he’d meant her to, and the wariness edged off a bit.
“So,” she asked a moment later, “why do I rate a foot rub tonight?”
“I’m feeling generous, just becoming an uncle and all.” He paused, and let that settle. Of course, he and Ronan weren’t actually brothers, but they might as well have been. “Not really an uncle, but that’s how it feels.”
“You’re an uncle,” she told
