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."