'And… and then, you could…'
'Kiss you?' he asked, pressing his lips to her cheek.
'Yes.'
He moved to her neck and a wave of sensation washed through her as he bit softly. 'How about here?'
A ragged breath slipped from her throat. 'I think that would be a little… too… oh, that feels good.'
He suddenly pulled away, as if the contact hadn't fazed him at all. 'Maybe that's going too far.' Laurel blinked, then nodded. 'You're right. Touching is fine. A kiss on the cheek occasionally. But nothing else.' She stepped away from him and sat on the sofa, pressing her hands between her knees to keep them from trembling. 'If Uncle asks you strange questions, just go along. Answer as best you can. He never stays on one subject for too long.'
'He shouldn't be hard to trick. When do you think he'll give you your money?'
'I don't want to trick him. The money is mine. My father left it to me. He just made the mistake of naming Uncle Sinclair as administrator of the trust, so Sinclair makes up the rules about when I can have the money. I need it now.'
'Why do you need it now?'
'I just do,' Laurel said. She'd never told anyone about her plans for the arts center. Until now, it had been a dream. She'd filled notebooks with her ideas, everything from curriculum to design of the classrooms to the teachers she'd try to hire. But she was almost superstitious about telling anyone, worried that any negative comment might ruin her perfect dream. 'My reasons are my own,' she said. 'And they're none of your business.'
Sean shrugged. 'Just curious.' He slipped the sweater over his head, then raked his hands through his hair. 'I think we're ready.'
Laurel strode to the door. 'All right, Edward. Uncle Sinclair gets impatient when he's kept waiting.'
As she walked down the wide staircase, Laurel tried to calm her frustration. She'd thought it would be easy to carry out the charade. Once Sinclair was certain she and 'Edward' had married for the right reasons, he'd turn over her money. He wouldn't dare make her give it back once the marriage failed.
She didn't like to lie, but the deception was necessary and it was for a good cause. She could have waited for another man to come along. But who knows when that might have happened? And how was she supposed to trust her own judgment, especially after the mistake she'd made with Edward? She certainly didn't want to wait another five years for the money.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, Laurel waited. Sean joined her a few seconds later. He reached out and took her hand, slipping his fingers between hers. 'Lead on,' he said.
They found Sinclair sitting in the huge leather wing chair in the library. Alistair had set out the brandy on a small side table and now stood silently in the shadows. As they entered, Laurel's uncle didn't bother to acknowledge them. Instead he kept his nose buried in a book.
Laurel sat on the leather sofa and motioned Sean to sit beside her. Alistair fetched them both a brandy, then resumed his place. After five minutes Sinclair finally glanced up, as if surprised that she and Sean were in the room. 'Here you are then,' he said, staring at Laurel. 'I hope you used sunscreen.'
'The weather was beautiful in Hawaii, Uncle.'
'Beautiful,' Sean repeated.
'Did you see any birds?'
'There were lots of birds there,' Laurel said. 'You would have found some new species to put on your list, Uncle. Uncle is only interested in American birds, Edward. But Hawaii is a state, so all those birds count.'
He turned to Sean. 'Do you like birds, Edward?'
'I do. I like ducks. Sparrows. And cardinals.'
'A cardinal was the first bird I put on my list,' he said. He looked down at his book again and for a long time didn't look up. Laurel took a sip of her brandy, then glanced over at Sean and shrugged.
'You like coins?' Sean asked.
Sinclair didn't answer, acting as if he hadn't heard. But Laurel knew better. He was testing Sean-Edward.
'What's your favorite coin?'
Sinclair slapped the book shut and, for a moment, Laurel thought he was angry, perturbed that Sean had interrupted his reading. 'Let me show you,' he said. 'Alistair, bring out the Seated Liberty.'
Laurel gave Sean's hand a squeeze. Her uncle loved to discuss his coin collection with anyone who would listen. And now, he had a fresh set of ears. She slowly stood and walked over to the tall cases of books, searching through the titles as she listened to Sinclair talk about the history behind the coin.
'This is a very rare coin,' he said. 'It was minted in 1866. There's only one other in better condition and it goes up for auction next week.'
Sean seemed genuinely interested and when Sinclair brought out another coin, he pulled up a footstool and sat next to Sinclair so he could examine the coin more closely. Laurel watched him in the low light of the library, taken by how sweet he could be. How had a man like Sean Quinn managed to remain single for so long?
'This is my Liberty Capped cent,' Sinclair said. 'Look at those luster darts. This coin was made in 1794 and the machinery was primitive at best, so perfection is nearly impossible. This is only one of three which is graded mint.'
'Wow,' Sean said. 'It looks brand new.'
'Laurel!' Sinclair called. 'Get the Breen. The copy I gave you for Christmas in 1991.'
Laurel retrieved the book from the shelf where she kept it and handed it to her uncle.
'If you're interested in coins, then this is the book.' Sinclair patted the cover.
'So, you only collect U.S. coins?'
'And Colonials,' Sinclair said. 'And U.S. stamps. A collector has to have some limits. That way, you don't waste money chasing things you don't really need or want.' He held the coins out to Alistair, then pushed to his feet. 'We'll talk again, Edward. You're an interesting young man.'
'Thank you, sir,' Sean said, quickly standing.
Laurel watched her uncle walk out of the room, Alistair trailing behind him, then smiled. 'He gave you Breen.'
'Is that good?' Sean asked.
'It's just a big book of coins, but it's like his bible. He spends hours pouring over that book. I think he must have it memorized by now.'
Sean nodded, then tucked the book under his arm. 'He's not going to give me a test, is he?'
Laurel giggled. 'He might. But not right away.' She paused, then pushed up on her toes and gave him a quick kiss on her cheek. 'You're a good husband.'
A tiny smile quirked his lips and he shrugged. 'That's what I get paid for.'
Laurel's breath caught in her throat. For a moment she'd forgotten that this was all just an act, that the handsome man standing next to her wasn't really her husband at all. 'I guess it's time for bed,' she murmured.
Sean held up the book. 'I know what I'll do if I can't sleep.' He slipped his arm around her waist as they walked out of the library and up the stairs. Laurel knew there was no need for the oddly possessive gesture. No one was watching. But she liked the way it felt when he touched her, the illusion of affection that it gave her.
But what would happen once the door to her bedroom closed? Would they continue this charade of romance or would it be strictly business? With each step, her heart beat a little faster in anticipation. This was the wedding night she hadn't had. And Laurel was afraid that morning would come all too fast.
Chapter 4
Sean slowly closed the door of Laurel's bedroom and leaned back against it, watching as she walked over to the huge four-poster bed. Her room, like the rest of the mansion, was richly furnished with expensive antiques and beautiful fabrics, a far cry from the tattered furnishings of the house on Kilgore Street or the hodgepodge decor of his flat in Southie.
