The Millionaire's Proposal. Trish Wylie

tucking a strand of richly coloured hair behind her ear so he could see a small earring dangling against the skin of her neck as she leaned forward to examine what was on her tray—the simple sight intensely sensual. ‘I’ve spent so long burying myself in work that this trip is made up entirely of places off the top of the list.’

      Ronan watched as she flashed him a sideways glance and a small smile that warmed the hints of russet in her large brown eyes. ‘I’m going round the world.’

      And the husky sense of satisfaction in her voice was a pleasure to his ears. ‘Alone?’

      ‘Now, if you were me would you answer that question when a stranger asked it?’

      ‘No.’

      She nodded again, ripping the plastic off her utensils. ‘There you go, then.’

      ‘So are you?’

      She turned her shoulders and fixed him with a steady ‘straight in the eye’ gaze. ‘Now, Mr O’Keefe—’

      ‘Oh, no, you don’t.’ He leaned a little closer— something he’d been doing a lot of the last few minutes. ‘I was Ronan five minutes ago—and you owe me a name.’

      ‘That was before you threatened me with a knife.’

      When she dipped her chin in the direction of his hand he looked down, then back. ‘It’s a three- inch plastic knife—I’d say you’re safe from any lasting harm, wouldn’t you?’

      When she continued to challenge him with her steady gaze and a minuscule quirk of her perfectly arched brows he took a deep breath and set the utensils down, replacing them with a spoon and the dessert tub, which he automatically ripped the cover off.

      Her eyes widened. ‘You’re eating dessert first?’

      ‘Yup,’ he answered with his mouth full of a surprisingly good lemon cheesecake, mentally making a note of it in association with the airline. ‘Why wait for the good stuff? Life’s too short.’

      ‘That’s profound. But I think you’ll find it has more to do with the savoury-before-sweet rule.’

      There was a brief pause while Ronan studied her, cheesecake dissolving on his tongue. ‘There’s a rule?’

      ‘Yes, and for good reason.’

      ‘Never was one for following rules.’

      ‘I can believe that.’

      Ronan sat a little taller, because he was quite proud of his reputation as a rule-breaker, as it happened. He’d never been one for accepting the going odds either. And he wasn’t that easily distracted.

       ‘Name.’

      She laughed, the sound amazingly sexy in the intimate space between them, and Ronan had been on more planes than he could count on his fingers and toes combined and never once had he found himself wishing the flight could be a few hours longer than it actually was.

      ‘Does it matter? Not like you’ll ever see me again after this flight touches down.’

      ‘We made a deal.’ And as a rule-follower she wasn’t likely to go back on a deal, was she?

      She ran the rosy tip of her tongue over her full lips, bringing Ronan’s gaze to her mouth as she formed the words.

      ‘It’s Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

      It suited her, was—right somehow. ‘Nice to meet you, Kerry, Kerry Doyle.’

      And her mouth curled into an answering wide smile that showed straight teeth and mischievous dimples—oh, she was really something.

      ‘Funny guy.’

      Trailing his gaze from her mouth to the warmth of her eyes, and then somewhat reluctantly for the first time in his life to focus on his dessert, he silently cleared his throat before digging a little deeper to satisfy his raging curiosity.

      ‘Tell me more about this fantasy list.’

      ‘Is it a good idea for a woman travelling alone to give her itinerary to a stranger on a plane?’

      Actually he wasn’t entirely convinced that was the kind of fantasies he’d meant, his mouth curling into a lazy smile at the thought as he loaded his spoon. ‘We’ve just been introduced so technically we’re not strangers any more—just as well, too, seeing you’ve just confirmed you’re travelling alone.’

      When a quick turn of his head afforded him a glimpse of a recriminating frown he grinned inwardly. ‘Don’t look a gift horse and all that. You have a bonafide destination expert literally at your fingertips—feel free to take advantage of me.’

      He threw in another wink for good measure.

      ‘Oh, you just don’t quit, do you?’

      ‘Being helpful? Can’t say women list that as my most memorable quality, no.’

       ‘Flirting.’

      ‘Ah.’ It took considerable effort to hold the full- blown smile he could feel in his chest from making its way up onto his face. ‘Well, you do know they say it’s all about the individual’s interpretation.’

      Kerry laughed a low, husky laugh. ‘You’re incorrigible.’

      ‘I’ve been told. Tell me about your trip, then.’

      She did, over ‘dinner’, through coffee that didn’t get spilt thanks to the code they had in place, and she even produced a colour-coded itinerary Ronan found highly amusing as she explained it to him while they ignored the movie. It was as they began their descent into JFK that he explained to her the treasures that could be found if she didn’t limit herself to the usual sights that would swallow up great chunks of her time when she was stuck in huge lines of tourists all wanting to see the same things—Kerry scribbling notes into the margins of her neatly typed sheets of paper.

      Her enthusiasm was palpable, watching the thoughts crossing her expressive eyes was addictive— and Ronan found himself regretting again the fact he hadn’t met her in Dublin on the first leg of the flight.

      ‘It must be amazing to spend your life seeing all the places you see.’

      An innocuous statement, but the words twisted like a knife in his chest. ‘Yeah, it’s been great.’

      Placing her itinerary with its brand new scribbled notes into a Ziploc bag, she leaned back against her seat and sighed, a small, contented smile on her mouth and a faraway look in her eyes as she turned her face towards his watchful gaze, her voice low.

      ‘I can’t imagine half the things you’ve seen— you’re incredibly lucky.’

      Lucky was far from the mark, as it happened. But Ronan’s imagination was too busy deciding that, with both their heads against the headrests and their faces turned towards each other, it was too much as if they were lying side by side in a bed for him to descend into bitterness—his voice husky as a result of where his brain then took that mental image.

      ‘Have you got everything on your fantasy list covered or is there anything else I can help you with?’

      She chuckled, letting the innuendo slide. ‘This trip is just the beginning. I’ve got almost three months to pack in as much as I can, so it’s a taster, if you like. Then if there’s anywhere I really enjoy I’ll try and spend more time there next time round.’

      She had dozens more adventures to look forward to. And enthusiasm danced in her eyes, highlighting the hinted shades of russet and gold in amongst the brown—though his imagination was probably filling that in…

      She really couldn’t be any more different from him if she tried, could she? But he managed to keep the envy out of his voice, just. ‘I can recommend some great guidebooks to help you catch up with