The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke

Chapter Sixteen

Cyndi finished piling her breakfast dishes into the dishwasher as she glanced at the clock. She'd slept much later than she'd intended. Considering that she was facing another tough day today, she'd wanted to get an earlier start. The antique dealers were arriving this morning, plus all the problems of yesterday hadn't disappeared overnight. Still, she had a silly smile on her face as she closed the door of the dishwasher and turned it on.

Her thoughts drifted back to yesterday evening at Shamus's house. He'd stripped her naked and made love to her on his bed, in his home. It had felt different than the other times—deeper, as if there was more of a commitment on both sides. Cyndi had no idea if what they had together would be able to weather the public scrutiny and disapproval, but she was willing to face it if Shamus was.

Her body tingled and she gave herself a shake. She had a lot to do today and Amanda Barrington and Linda Fletcher would be here sometime within the next two hours. Shamus would be over later after he stopped by the hardware store to pick up several gallons of paint.

After they'd made love and tried out the huge tub in Shamus's bathroom, they'd tumbled down the stairs to raid the refrigerator. While she was making sandwiches for them, Shamus had scrounged in his basement. He'd found a six-by-five piece of board and painted test patches of all the samples he'd picked up at the hardware store.

By the time they'd finished eating, the paint was dry and they'd decided on the best colors for the dining room, the living room, and the front parlor. Most of the furniture currently in those rooms would hopefully disappear with Linda Fletcher when she left tomorrow afternoon.

Cyndi filled a mug with coffee. Cradling it in her hands, she made her way to her father's office. She'd decided that it was time to have another look in the wall safe. She'd been putting it off for a few days now. Glancing down at the almost invisible scar on her right hand, she sighed. She was still no closer to figuring out who had wanted to hurt her, or at least scare her, that fateful night. Not that she expected to ever know who had shot at her. There were no leads and the list of her father's enemies was endless.

Cyndi placed the mug on top of the desk before striding over to the picture that hid the wall safe. Lifting it off the wall, she laid it aside. She'd have to find something else to cover the safe. If Linda Fletcher would take the painting for the auction, it was leaving the house. If she wouldn't take it, Cyndi planned to shove it in the back of the attic.

She spun the dial on the safe, stopping at the correct numbers. The handle turned easily, and she swung the door open. Like Pandora's box, she had a feeling there were things in here that would be better off not seeing the light of day. But she was fully committed to the job at hand. Besides which, she had to know what was here. Maybe it would give her a better idea of who might be behind the shooting.

Reaching inside, she pulled out three leather-bound journals and several stacks of papers, carrying them over to the desk. She'd examine them in a minute, but what she really wanted to see was her mother's jewelry.

There were twelve cases in all, some big, others small. Piling them into her arms, Cyndi took them back to the desk, depositing them there. Her hands were shaking as she opened the first one. It was the necklace she'd seen the night she'd discovered the safe. Leaving the velvet case open, Cyndi picked up a smaller one and pried the lid up.

"Ohmygod,” she gasped. Nestled on a bed of plush red velvet was a stunning pair of diamond earrings. They were shaped like large teardrops and were obviously worth a small fortune. She traced her finger over the cool stones, barely able to believe they were real. But they were real, of that there was no doubt. Her father wouldn't have settled for anything less than the best.

One box at a time, she opened them all. Heart pounding, she dropped into the chair behind the desk and just stared. There were diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and emeralds. Four necklaces, five pairs of earrings, and three bracelets shimmered and shone in the early morning sun streaming in through the windows.

She slipped an emerald bracelet over her wrist, holding it to the light. The gems showed off their brilliant beauty. Replacing it carefully in its box, she plucked up a diamond necklace. It glittered like ice. Cyndi shuddered, returning it to its bed of velvet.

One by one, Cyndi examined each piece, searching for a glimpse of a memory. She'd hoped to recognize at least one of the pieces, to be able to conjure up some elusive snippet of her past with her mother, but there was nothing. They were all beautiful pieces of jewelry, but they left her cold.

The doorbell pealed, making her jump. Slamming the lids shut, she gathered up the boxes and hurried over to the safe, all but tossing them inside and slamming the door.

She glanced out the window, shocked to see a van and a truck in the driveway. She'd been so absorbed in the jewelry that they'd driven up without her even hearing them approach. The bell rang again and she hurried out of the room, closing the door behind her. She'd gather her father's papers and the journals and take them to her room. Tonight, she promised herself. Tonight she'd take the time to read them.

The bell chimed one more time just as she reached the door and swung it open. “Hi.” Out of breath and her head still spinning from the fortune in jewelry she'd just uncovered, Cyndi greeted her visitors.

The tall, dark-haired woman, in stylish, black slacks and a matching jacket, seemed slightly taken aback, but then she smiled. “Good morning, I'm Linda Fletcher.” Cyndi recognized the cultured tones of her voice. They'd talked several times on the phone, setting up this weekend.

"Cyndi Marks.” Cyndi offered her hand and Linda shook it. The handshake was firm and no nonsense. “Please come in."

Another woman was standing just behind Linda on the steps. This woman was a bit shorter than Linda, her hair a profusion of cinnamon-colored curls. She was dressed more casually in jeans and a dark brown, corduroy jacket. “Hi, I'm Amanda Barrington.” Her wire-rimmed glasses gave her a slightly bookish appearance, but she still didn't fit Cyndi's idea of a rare book dealer.

"Welcome. Come on in.” Cyndi beckoned them into the house. Neither woman bothered to contain their curiosity, glancing unabashedly around the foyer, as they removed their coats and hung them on the coat rack. “Would you like some coffee?"

"Would I?” Amanda all but groaned. “I've only had one cup this morning and I could definitely use some more."

Cyndi laughed, liking Amanda more by the minute. She had a smattering of freckles across her nose and an easy smile. Linda seemed more reserved, but still very nice. She remembered her coffee mug on her desk and paused outside the door. It was silly to be concerned about preserving the privacy of the office. After all, she was allowing these women access to her entire house this weekend.

Swinging the door open, she hurried into the room. “I was just working in here and didn't hear you drive up.” Grabbing her mug, she turned to find both women staring at the room. Cyndi laughed. “Overwhelming, isn't it?"

"I'll say,” Amanda easily agreed.

"It's strong and very masculine,” Linda observed.

"That about sums it up.” Cyndi strolled over to stand beside them. “Most of the furniture will be going from this room. I need to pack up the papers in the desk and such, but I want just about every last piece gone from this room."

Both women stared at her and she could hear the vehemence in her own voice. “Sorry.” She rubbed the back of her neck. “Memories."

"There will probably be a lot more before the weekend is over,” Linda added gently. “No matter how ready you think you are to let go, it's never easy."

Cyndi knew that she was right, but the quicker this was done, the quicker she could get on with the rest of her life. Her gaze flicked to the safe. “Do you deal in estate jewelry or do you know someone who does?"

Linda's excitement was palpable. “I can definitely handle the jewelry for you. We don't get much, but it's a passion of mine.” It was obvious the woman loved her job.

"Good.” Cyndi ushered them out of the room, down the hallway, and into the kitchen. “Because I've got quite a bit of it.” Her own jewelry was scattered across her bed and floor upstairs. She'd never even thought to sort through that yet.

The women opted to pull up a stool at the counter rather than sit at the table. Cyndi took down mugs and filled them, placing them in front of her guests. Dumping her own cold coffee down the drain, she poured herself a fresh cup.

"What about clothing? It's probably not worth much, but there's more than a closet full of designer clothes from the early nineties upstairs as well. Plus, my father's got closets full of designer men's clothing."

Linda broke out into a huge grin. “I have to tell you that you're making my heart pitter-patter."

Cyndi laughed as she leaned against the counter. “I'll take that as a yes."

"You certainly can,” Linda laughed.

"Don't worry,” she said to Amanda. “I've got an entire room of wall-to-wall bookcases just waiting for you."

Amanda rubbed her hands together. “Good. For a minute there, I thought that Linda was going to have all the fun."

Cyndi felt more relaxed than she had since she arrived in Jamesville. It was nice to talk to people who had no idea of her past, to people who didn't hate her because of who she was.

She noticed Linda's gaze had gone to the cooking island where she'd left the china that she and Shamus had dragged down from the attic. “Those I'm not selling."

"I don't blame you. May I?” Cyndi nodded and Linda slid from her stool and strode to the dishes. “These are lovely.” Picking up a tea plate, she examined the back. “Minton, circa nineteen-twenty-three. The tea plate and cup and saucer alone are worth about a hundred dollars."

Laying it carefully aside, she picked up a dinner plate. “Spode,” she sighed. “Some of these pieces are worth a lot of money.” She picked up a few more plates and examined them. “Others are not quite so rare, but they're still lovely pieces. You've got some nice Johnson Brothers and some Royal Albert as well. Quite a varied collection."

"I'm converting this place into a B & B and I plan to use most of these dishes. I may need more. I'm not sure yet."

"If you decide you want more or need to complete a place setting or just some extra pieces, let me know.” Linda placed the plate carefully back on the table and picked up a teacup. “I can get you whatever you need."

Cyndi hadn't really thought about that before, but she was making a good contact. “I may need some furniture, but I'm not sure yet. I think that the attic will have everything I need."

Linda groaned. “You're killing me here. You have an attic loaded with enough furniture to fill this place again?"

"Pretty much.” Cyndi grinned. “My family never threw anything out."

Amanda laughed. “You do realize that most women save this kind of rapture for men and not old books and furniture."

"Most women aren't as smart as us,” Linda replied wryly, making them all laugh as she carefully returning the cup to its saucer.

Cyndi realized she was enjoying herself. It was a shame these women weren't going to be here longer. She had a feeling they would both make good friends. “Let's get you both settled in upstairs.” As they left the kitchen, Cyndi teased Linda. “And don't get too comfortable. Your bedroom furniture is going, too."

Amanda snickered and Linda laughed. “Hey, if I like it, maybe I'll buy it."

They were at the bottom of the stairs when the doorbell rang again. Cyndi excused herself and went to the door. She hoped it wasn't anyone else wanting to cause trouble. She wasn't expecting Shamus for another couple of hours yet.

Opening the door, Cyndi found herself swept up into strong arms. Shamus was early. She barely had time to assimilate that pleasure before firm lips descended, capturing hers. Her hands crept up to lock around his neck as he maneuvered her inside, kicking the door closed with his booted heel.

"Ahem."

It took a minute and another exaggerated throat clearing for Cyndi to remember the two women behind her. Shamus slowly pulled his lips from hers, breaking the kiss. “Don't tell me,” he murmured huskily. “Your company is standing right behind us."

Flustered, she planted her hands on his chest, pushing him away. “Yes.” She tried to ignore the frisson of pleasure filling her. Shamus looked as handsome as ever in faded blue jeans that clung to him like a second skin and a white T-shirt under his leather jacket. His hair was caught at his nape in its usual ponytail, setting off his masculine face to perfection.

"Sorry about that. I figured they'd be hard at work by now, cleaning the place out,” he whispered against her ear. Turning to the women watching with avid interest a few feet away, he smiled as he extended his hand. “Shamus O'Rourke. Pleased to meet you both."

Cyndi shook off the remnants of pleasure still coursing through her veins and pulled herself together enough to make the introductions. “I was just about to show them their rooms."

"Great. I can bring in your bags, if you'd like."

Both ladies offered their keys and Shamus left to collect their suitcases. Cyndi turned to find both women staring at Shamus's butt. She didn't know whether to be outraged or amused. It was a fine behind, and encased in faded denim, it was pretty irresistible.

Linda cleared her throat. “Sorry about that.” The look in her eye suggested that she was anything but sorry. She shrugged. “What can I say? I'm trained to observe quality goods."

She said it in such a tongue-in-cheek way that Cyndi laughed. Amanda's gaze went from one woman to the other. “He's definitely quality."

Still smiling, Cyndi led them up the stairs to the two guest rooms she'd prepared. Shamus was close on their heels with the luggage, but he'd taken the time to remove his jacket. The T-shirt he was wearing was long-sleeved, and hugged his shoulders and chest. It was hard for her not to snuggle up next to him for a hug, but she managed to retain some dignity.

Linda had a large suitcase, but Amanda had a small overnight bag. Leaving both women to settle in their rooms, she told them to meet her down in the study when they were ready.

Shamus slung his arm over her shoulders as they walked down the stairs together. “What do you think of them?"

Cyndi snaked her arm around his waist, enjoying the feel of his arm around her. “I like them. I think this entire process is going to be easier because of them."

They paused at the bottom of the stairs and he turned her in his arms. “You don't have to get rid of anything you don't want to. If you need some more time to decide about some items, don't pressure yourself. We can always put them up in the attic for now."

Her heart swelled and in that minute, she knew she loved Shamus. He'd blindsided her the moment they'd met, sweeping her into a whirlwind of passion. But it was more than that. She felt his care and concern for her in everything he did. He was an amazing man. Everything she'd ever wished for and hoped to find in a relationship. The fact that there was such an age discrepancy and she had such a negative history with his family should have been enough to drive them apart. Instead, it had brought them closer together.

"Hey.” He tucked a lock of hair gently over the curve of her ear. “You okay?"

Was she okay? No, she wasn't. Her life had been knocked off its axis and, for better or worse, there was no going back. She owed it to herself and to Shamus to play this out until the very end. Their relationship would either make it or it wouldn't. But if it didn't, it wouldn't be because she hadn't given it her all.

"Yeah,” she replied huskily. “I'm fine."

Not looking totally convinced, he glanced up the stairs and let it drop for now. Cyndi knew that if she hadn't had company, he wouldn't have let it go. “I got the paint you wanted."

"That's good.” It was better to move to safer topics for now. “You can just put it in the dining room for now. I'm going to start there with Linda and if she agrees to take the set, it won't take long to clear the room."

"You're going to need help moving the furniture.” They walked toward the front door.

Cyndi shrugged. She'd thought about that, but really didn't know who to call. “Between you and me and Linda, we should be able to manage."

Shamus shook his head. “Some of this furniture is way too heavy. We're going to need a couple more guys."

Anger filled her at this reminder of how much the people in this town didn't like her. She'd almost forgotten in the few minutes she'd spent in Linda and Amanda's company. “Well, it's not as if I can just pick up the phone and call someone. If you've forgotten, I don't have a lot of friends in this town."

"But I do.” Ignoring her burst of anger, he wrapped his hand around her nape and squeezed gently. The tight muscles in her neck loosened and she almost groaned with pleasure.

"You can't put yourself in that position, Shamus. You don't want to make them choose between your friendship and their animosity toward me and my family."

"Don't worry about it.” Reaching into his back pocket, he drew out his cell phone.

"You keep saying that, but I keep worrying. One of us has to worry.” She didn't understand how he could be so blase about this.

His mouth tightened slightly, the only indication that he wasn't quite as relaxed as he seemed. “Better to know now rather than later. If folks I've known most of my life are going to turn on me for something like this, then I want to know."

"Oh, Shamus.” He already had problems with his family because of her. This would just make it worse. “Maybe you should just take off for the day."

He shook his head. “You're not getting rid of me that easily.” He planted a quick kiss on her lips. “You're not to blame for other people's actions. They're all responsible for themselves."

"But you being around me isn't helping,” she pointed out.

"Maybe not, but it feels right to me.” He rubbed his nose against hers, inhaling deeply before pulling away. “Damn, you smell good."

She laughed. “Stop that. We both have work to do today.” She remembered the journals and papers on her father's desk. “I finally had a look in the office safe."

Concern filled his blue-gray eyes. “Anything you want to talk about?"

"Not yet. I didn't have a chance to go through the journals or papers yet. I plan to do it tonight. But I did find a lot of jewelry. I know they belonged to my mother, but I don't feel any attachment to them. I'm going to sell them.” She said the last decisively. It was the right thing to do.

"Whatever you think is best.” He cupped her face in his hand. “All I want is for you to be happy."

What had she ever done to deserve a man this fine and good? “I know.” Turning her lips into his palm, she placed a kiss there before stepping away. “Now, you've got paint to bring in and I'm going to store all those papers upstairs. I'll get Amanda started in the library before Linda and I head to the dining room."

"Okay.” Shamus rolled his shoulders. “I'll make some calls before I bring in the paint from the truck."

Cyndi stood in the doorway as he sauntered toward his truck. He already had his phone to his ear and was talking to someone on the other end. She hoped he didn't have his hopes up too high. She doubted he'd find someone willing to help her.

Footsteps on the stairs alerted her to the fact that the other women were on their way to join her. Closing the front door, she took a deep breath. She only hoped she and Shamus knew what they were doing. Their relationship was going to have to face a lot more hardships before it got better.