The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke

Chapter Seventeen

It took Shamus half a dozen calls, but he finally found two men from his usual work crew who were willing to come and help him at Cyndi's. They were younger than some of the ones he'd phoned first and hadn't had any dealings with her father. Therefore, they didn't have any of the prejudices many of the older folks did. Heck, they barely even remembered Cyndi. Plus, they were glad to earn some extra money on the weekend.

It was shocking to him how many people who'd called themselves his friends for years, found it easy to turn their back on him now when he asked for their help. People he'd helped over the years without question. Live and learn, he told himself.

He still hadn't given up hope his family and some of his friends would come to accept the fact that Cyndi was a part of his life. They were good people, and he had faith in them. But in the meantime, he wasn't going to stand around and hold his breath either. Shamus was a realist. All he could do was move forward with his life, making the best choices he could.

Pocketing his phone, he went to the back of the truck and lifted out a box containing several gallons of paint, drop cloths, and paintbrushes. The air was crisp for an October morning, but not cold. The sun was shining, beckoning people to come out and play. Maybe he'd convince Cyndi to go for a walk later.

He bounded up the front steps and let himself into the house. He could hear the murmur of voices and followed the sound. He glanced in the library on the way along and saw Amanda Barrington already hard at work. She was leaning over a table, typing into her laptop, several large books alongside her.

He shifted the box in his arms and continued on to the dining room. Standing in the doorway, he watched Cyndi interacting with Linda Fletcher. Cyndi was animated as she opened the china cabinet and displayed the contents for the antiques dealer. She laughed at something Linda said and Shamus couldn't help but smile. Damn, he had it bad.

As if sensing his scrutiny, Cyndi's gaze jerked toward the door. Shamus ambled into the room and deposited the box in a clear corner before joining the women. “How's it going?"

"Good. Linda is going to take everything in this room from the table and chairs to the dishes and silverware."

"Great. You need any help packing this stuff?"

"No.” Linda shook her head. “No offense, but I want this packed properly. Do you have any idea what this stuff is worth?"

"Nope.” Shamus grinned as he leaned over to study the dishes. They were okay, he supposed. The blue color was pretty enough.

"They're Wedgwood.” The tone of Linda's voice was almost reverent. “And the crystal is Baccarat."

"I take it that's good?” Hell, even he recognized that name. It meant expensive. “You sure you want to dump all this stuff?"

"I'm sure.” Cyndi straightened her shoulders and nodded. He was beginning to recognize the stubborn expression on her face—the one that signaled she meant business.

"Good enough. How about I bring in some of those boxes from the truck parked out front?"

"That would be wonderful.” Linda was already carefully transferring the dishes from the cabinet to the table. “If we get these packed up, then we can clear this room for you fairly quickly."

"Works for me.” Unable to resist the lush fullness of Cyndi's lips any longer, he dropped a quick kiss on her mouth on the way out the door. He heard Linda say something to Cyndi as he left. Both women laughed. Shamus grinned and whistled as he headed back to the truck to bring in the rest of the paint. Then he'd start on the packing boxes. Hopefully, Ben and Kurt, the two men he'd contacted, would be here by then and the real work could begin.

Later that afternoon, Shamus went in search of Cyndi. The dining room and parlor were now empty, and all the furniture that used to sit in both rooms was carefully packed aboard the panel truck that Linda had driven here. The library was a study in chaos, with boxes piled everywhere. He heard some muttering from within and assumed that Amanda was in there, somewhere behind the mound of boxes, still hard at work.

The men he'd called to help him had just left and they'd not only managed to paint the dining room, but prime the walls in the parlor as well. Shamus had run out to the hardware store, after they'd all stopped for a quick bite of soup and sandwiches, and picked up more primer and the paint for the smaller room. They hadn't counted on getting that done today, so it was a bonus. Cyndi would be pleased.

He found her in her father's old office with Linda. Both of them were leaning over the huge, oak desk that dominated the room. He gave a perfunctory knock on the door as he entered. Cyndi glanced up and smiled at him. “All done?"

"For today.” He reached her side, slipping his arm around her waist. “The dining room is painted—ceiling, walls, and trim, and the parlor is primed and ready to start painting tomorrow."

"Really? That's wonderful.” She leaned into him and he slid his fingers over her belly, feeling the muscles beneath her top jump.

"What are you two doing?” He glanced down at the desktop and froze. A fortune in gems was scattered about. “Is that stuff real?” He knew it was, but it still boggled the mind to see so much of it outside an upscale jewelry store.

"Yes. I'm assuming it all belonged to my mother even though I don't remember any of it."

"I thought I could deal with this myself.” Linda picked up a necklace and held it to the light. The diamonds glittered, the light refracting from the gems. “But this is way out of my league. I can handle the usual estate jewelry and good costume pieces from the past hundred years or so, but this kind of bling needs an expert."

"What will you do with it then?” He reluctantly released his hold on Cyndi as she leaned forward to pick up an emerald bracelet.

"Linda knows a guy.” Cyndi smiled at Linda and then up at him. “He'll be here tomorrow. Linda called him this afternoon, and he's practically frothing at the mouth over the possibility of handling this stuff. He specializes in this kind of high-end jewelry."

Shamus couldn't imagine having items of this value lying around the house even if they were in a safe. “I'll be glad when they're out of here."

"Why?"

"Because, if anyone knew you had these kinds of baubles around, you'd be a target for theft.” He picked up a necklace, examining the deep blue stones. “They couldn't sell the pieces individually, too distinctive. But they could pop all the stones out and sell them that way."

"You're right.” Placing the bracelet she was holding back in the box, Cyndi snapped it closed. “I should have thought of that, but I was just so shocked at finding it all. I didn't even know what was really in here until this morning.” They returned the jewelry to their respective boxes and carried them back to the safe.

Shamus breathed a sigh of relief when the door shut. He noticed the painting leaning against the wall and picked it up, hanging it over the safe.

"That painting is going, too. I hate it."

Shamus had to agree with Cyndi. It was a rather ugly piece.

"Philistine,” Linda quipped. “It may not be to your taste, but there are many buyers who like this kind of ugly."

"That's why you get the big bucks,” Cyndi retorted. Shamus watched the two women interacting and realized they'd connected and were on their way to becoming friends. He wished Linda didn't live so far away. Cyndi could use a friend in town.

"Are you ladies hungry?"

"I'm starving.” Cyndi glanced over at Linda who nodded. “I imagine Amanda is too. I haven't laid eyes on her since lunch."

"I heard muttering as I passed by, but didn't see her. Too many boxes.” They left the room, closing the door firmly behind them. He'd noticed Cyndi did that automatically every time they left the room and assumed it must be a holdover from her childhood. Her father's office would need the most work to rid it of his presence.

"I should have planned for this earlier.” Cyndi cast an apologetic glance at them. “I just go so involved, I forgot all about dinner."

Shamus was tired. It had been a long day, physically and emotionally, but it had been more so for Cyndi. “How about I run out and pick up a couple pizzas? Or I could get chicken or Chinese food if you'd like."

"Sounds good to me,” Linda spoke up.

"Let's see what Amanda would like.” They stopped into the library and found Amanda slumped in a wingback chair, computer in her lap and a book in her hands.

"Do you know what this is?” The other woman appeared dazed. “This is a first edition Charles Dickens.” She looked up at them. “It's been like this all day."

"You hungry?” Cyndi plucked the book from Amanda's hands and popped it onto the table.

The other woman seemed appalled at Cyndi's cavalier attitude toward the book. She glanced from the book to Cyndi and back again. Amanda seemed to shake herself as she closed her laptop and got to her feet. “You know, I am hungry."

"What would you like? Our options are pizza, chicken, or Chinese."

"Not Chinese. At least not for me. I'm always hungry two hours later.” Amanda stretched and looked out the window. “Wow. When did it get dark?"

Shamus glanced at his watch. “It's after six.” The three women were physically quite different from each other and yet they all seemed to have connected on some level. He watched as they looked at one another, then back at him.

"Pizza,” they all chimed.

Shamus laughed. “Pizza it is.” It took him another few minutes to get the order straight. He hauled out his phone and called it in before he left. That way he wouldn't have as long to wait. The bakery was closed, but the supermarket on the edge of town would still be open. He'd stop for dessert on his way to the pizza joint.

Cyndi followed him to the door. “You sure you don't mind doing this?” She had a smudge of dirt on her nose and he couldn't resist rubbing it off. She crinkled her face. “I know I look a mess. I'm going to grab a quick shower while you're gone."

"I'll get one later.” Her eyes widened, but she didn't say anything. “I put my overnight bag in your room earlier. Is that okay with you?"

She placed her palm over his heart, which was thudding heavily. “I'd like that.” She hesitated slightly. “If you're sure."

"I'm sure.” He was sure he wanted to spend every night for the rest of his life with this woman. “Get your shower. I'll be back in a half hour."

"Hurry back.” Going up onto her toes, she kissed him.

It took all his discipline not to drag her into his arms, kiss her senseless and carry her up the stairs to bed. That's if they made it all the way upstairs. But they weren't alone in the house and now was not the time. Later, he promised himself. Definitely later.

Grabbing his jacket, he dropped another kiss on her upturned lips before heading out.

Later that night, he and Cyndi were propped up in bed, reading. Dinner had been a lighthearted affair. All the women had been ravenous and Shamus had been glad he'd ordered two extra-large pizzas. The chocolate cake he'd found at the grocery store had been a hit as well.

While the women had chatted over coffee, he'd taken himself upstairs and showered. He figured that Cyndi was enjoying her time alone with the other two women. When he'd emerged from the shower, she'd been sprawled across the bed waiting for him. It hadn't taken him long to drop the towel and pounce on her. They'd laughed at first, both of them playful. But that had quickly dropped away, leaving them both quiet and almost desperate to touch one another.

When they'd both come back to their senses, Cyndi had suggested they go through her father's papers. At first, he'd been reluctant to read them, but Cyndi had insisted. She was curled up next to him, perusing one of the leather-bound journals, a small pair of wire-rimmed glasses perched on her nose. She'd been almost hesitant to put them on. He thought they made her look adorable.

Her brow furrowed as she flipped back several pages and then forward again. “This can't be right."

"What can't be right?"

She took off her glasses, rubbed her eyes, and put them back on. “If I'm reading this right, then my father and his lawyers were involved in some questionable activities regarding land acquisitions."

"Let me see that.” He leaned closer and Cyndi pointed out some of the notations.

"My father actually falsified bank records to foreclose on this property, and it's not the first time he's done it. He's noted that Mr. Harris provided legal documents necessary for him to do so. That's fraud."

Shamus whistled under his breath. “The cops need to be informed of this."

Cyndi licked her lips and shifted on the mattress. “Can we trust them?"

Her tentativeness told him that she didn't want to offend him, nor did she truly trust his brother. He couldn't blame her, as Patrick hadn't exactly put his best foot forward with her. “You can trust Patrick. He may not like you, but you can be damn sure that he'll get to the bottom of this mess."

"Okay. But I want to make several copies of this first. I want one in the safe and one with my lawyer, just in case the evidence goes missing at some point.” She held up her hand when he started to protest. “It's not necessarily Patrick I'm worried about. I know my father and if it was possible, he had a contact somewhere in the sheriff's department. There's no mention of anyone, but I don't want to take chances."

"Good enough. We'll take care of that in the morning. What else is in those journals?"

It took them several more hours to finish scouring the leather-bound books. They found out that a former mayor had a gambling problem and owed money to Cyndi's father. Another town official had a penchant for prostitutes. It seemed that Cyndi's father was privy to most of the secrets in town.

Shamus wanted these incriminating journals out of the house immediately. “Who else knows these are here?"

"No one. Just you and me. Oh, and your brother. I told him what I'd found in the safe the night of the shooting."

"But he just thinks they're personal papers?"

Cyndi nodded. “Yes."

"Okay, we have to assume the people involved don't realize that your father kept a private journal."

"Why do we assume that?"

Shamus pried the journal from Cyndi's cold fingers and laid it on the bedside table. “Because someone would have tried to recover it by now, if they'd known about it. The house was empty for several weeks before you got here. Even before that, there was only a small staff here. Lots of opportunity for them to try."

She pushed back a lock of hair, tucking it behind her ear. “I see what you mean. All the paperwork in the files looks perfectly legal. If I hadn't found these journals, I'd never have questioned them.” Her fingers tightened around the covers. “Oh, Shamus. What kind of man does what my father did? He cheated some people and blackmailed others, not for money, but for favors."

He plucked her glasses off and tossed them aside before drawing her into his arms. She felt cold, so he rubbed his hand over her arm, trying to warm her. “I don't know, sweetheart. But you aren't anything like him."

"Are you sure?"

The uncertainty in her voice tore at him. “I'm sure. No matter what anyone else might think, I know better."

She buried her face against his chest. “Thank you for that. You have no idea what it means to me."

He wanted to comfort her, but wasn't quite sure how to go about it. She was uncovering nasty secrets about her family, and she hadn't had a good family history to begin with. Her life with her father had been a nightmare, and now when it should have been finally over, it seemed as if it was just beginning.

"I'm sorry,” he murmured as he continued to stroke her arm. “Sorry you have to go through all this."

His body was responding to her nearness. He could smell the flowery scent of her soap. He recognized it from what he'd found in the shower stall earlier. Her skin was soft and she was only wearing a short nightgown made of some silky material. It brushed against his chest every time she moved, making him tense as he swallowed a groan of desire. He wanted her again.

His shaft stirred, pressing against her hip. He tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder to do it with each passing second. He had a warm, sexy woman in his arms, her musky scent mingling with the fragrance of her soap to create an aphrodisiac that stirred his senses. He wanted her. Wanted to lay her on her back, mount her, and rock them both into oblivion.

But he wouldn't.

Right now, Cyndi needed comfort and he wanted to give that to her more than he wanted to fulfill a physical need. It might kill him, but he was determined.

"Shamus?"

Her husky tone sent a shiver down his spine and his erection pulsed. “What?"

She didn't answer. Instead, she pulled away from his embrace and came up on her knees beside him. Her blue eyes were huge as she reached down and grabbed the hem of her gown, drawing it over her head.

Shamus swallowed hard and reached for her, but she moved just beyond his grasp.

"Let me."

He leaned back against the pillows. Whatever she wanted was hers.