The High Price of Secrets

by Yvonne Lindsay

  Finn ached to tell her there was so much more to Ellen’s story than that, but it wasn’t his information to share.

  “I hope you get to find your answers,” he said softly, at a loss as to what else to say.

  “Yeah, me, too.” Tamsyn gave him a wobbly smile.

  “So, about dessert,” Finn said, injecting a lighter note into his voice. “Are you ready for some?”

  “Sure, bring it on. I’ve already eaten way too much this evening, what’re a few more calories. The seniors at the center are probably going to work it all off me tomorrow anyway.”

  He reached out and took her plate. From what he could tell, she’d eaten hardly enough to keep going. Still, it wasn’t his place to harangue her into stuffing herself. Instead, he retrieved the container of hokey-pokey ice cream from the freezer and dished it up into two bowls. Putting them on a tray and reaching for a container of chocolate sauce, he carried them over to the table.

  “Ooh, ice cream!” Tamsyn exclaimed.

  “Not just any ice cream,” Finn said with a mock-stern expression on his face. “New Zealand’s finest.”

  Tamsyn lifted her spoon and scooped up the tiniest mouthful. “Oh, is that toffee inside it?”

  Finn smiled at the expression of sheer delight on her face. “You haven’t lived until you’ve tried it. It’s better in a cone, but I thought we should be civilized for our first dinner together. Here,” he said, extending the chocolate sauce to her. “Try this on top.”

  She tried the new combination, the chocolate sauce freezing to a hard crust as it drizzled over the ice cream. A deep sound of appreciation hummed from her throat, sending a jolt of lightning-hot desire straight to his groin. He’d been able to hold it together most of tonight, to keep her at arm’s length. But right now he wanted to do nothing more than lay her on the table and eat dessert right off of her. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

  “Oh, that’s good,” she said, taking another spoonful. “I can’t believe I’ve lived this long and never tried it.”

  Finn scooped up a generous mouthful and shoved it in his mouth. Maybe the icy concoction would chill his fiery libido. Difficult to achieve success on that score, he noted, while watching Tamsyn savor every mouthful of her own. Her tongue swept out and traced her upper lip, seeking and finding a tiny trace of chocolate that had lodged there. He closed his eyes briefly, trying to rid himself of the urge to find out what that dainty tongue would feel like on his body. Jeez, he needed to get a grip here.

  It wasn’t until Tamsyn’s spoon fell with a clatter in her bowl that he realized she’d finished. Heaving a sigh of relief, Finn reached for her plate.

  “Here, let me take that for you,” he said, pushing his chair back.

  “Oh, I can do that,” Tamsyn insisted, taking both his bowl and hers out of his reach and rising also. “You’ve already done so much for me this evening. Can I do the dishes before I head off?”

  “That would be a definite no,” Finn said, following her into the kitchen. “Besides, that’s what dishwashers are for, right?”

  “If you’re sure…”

  “I am,” he said, taking her hand and leading her away from the kitchen. “Can I offer you some coffee? My machine isn’t as flash as yours, but it makes a good brew.”

  Tamsyn shook her head. “No, I’d better get going. I want to be fresh for tomorrow. Thank you for tonight. It was really lovely.”

  “You’re welcome, I enjoyed it.” I enjoyed you, his mind reiterated. He lifted her hand to his lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. “I’m glad you came.”

  “I—um, me, too,” she said, suddenly flustered.

  As disconcerted as she was, she made no effort to pull away, so Finn did what naturally came next. He leaned forward and kissed her. The instant their lips touched he forgot everything he’d ever thought about her—all the nastiness, all the subtle envy he hadn’t even realized he’d allowed to build up over the years. In their place, he allowed himself to be lost in her softness.

  Her lips felt like warm petals against his. While a clawing need deep inside him demanded he plunder their tender surface, a voice of reason warned him to hold back, to tease instead, to coax, and when her lips parted on a swift rush of warm breath, he took advantage. He gently sucked her lower lip between his, tentatively tracing his tongue along the tender inner edge.

  The shudder that went through her body at his touch saw him step closer. Saw him wrap one arm around her waist, drawing her slender form against his strength, molding her against him. He deepened their kiss, his mind a fog of need and want, and yet beneath it all lay an overpowering urge to cherish.

  Her arms snaked around his waist, her hands pressing flat against his back. Finn fought back a groan of satisfaction as her lips began to move against his, as her tongue boldly followed where his led. She tasted intoxicatingly sweet and he knew, even with this one kiss, he would be addicted forever.

  He was shaking when he pulled away. Aware that what they’d shared wasn’t enough, would never be enough, but also aware that he didn’t want to frighten her away. He could sweep her off her feet…but he’d so much rather she come to him when she was ready.

  The pupils of Tamsyn’s eyes all but consumed the dark velvet brown of her irises and her lips were slightly swollen from the intensity of their kiss.

  “I…I need to go.”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  He took her by the hand again and led her through to the front entrance and to her car. He opened her door for her and watched as she settled herself behind the wheel. She reached out to pull the door closed and gave him a small wave before sending her car down the driveway. As Finn watched her taillights disappear down the hill, he wondered how, just a few days ago, he’d ever actually wanted to see her drive away.

  * * *

  Tamsyn could barely remember the short drive back to the cottage. Her emotions were in a crazy jumble It had been just a kiss. One normal everyday kiss between two consenting adults. So why had it left her feeling like this? How had a simple caress suddenly become so intense, so complicated, so layered with feeling?

  Her entire body vibrated with sensation. When Finn had leaned forward to kiss her she’d expected it to be nice. Nice? She snorted in disgust with herself. She should have known a man like Finn didn’t do nice. No, he did earth-shattering, mind-blowing, skin-searing fantastic. Not once, with Trent, had she ever experienced a kiss like that. With Finn, her entire body had turned molten, her brain scrambled and then reassembled with one purpose in mind.

  And then he’d pulled back. It had left her feeling way off kilter, suddenly fearful that perhaps he hadn’t felt the same way as she had. But she’d seen the turbulence in his eyes. Eyes that had darkened to the color of rainwashed slate. Her heart had thrilled to the knowledge that he wanted her with as much force and need as she wanted him. That knowledge, however ephemeral, was balm to her wounded soul.

  It shocked Tamsyn to realize that if Finn had suggested they take their embrace further, she would have wholeheartedly thrown caution to the winds and let him take her to bed.

  She pulled her car to a halt outside the garage, turned off the engine and sat in the dark, mulling over the enormity of what had happened between them. Where did they go from here? Did he want to take things further? They’d known each other only a few days and yet…

  She started suddenly, a small scream erupting from her throat as a dark shape landed on the hood of her car.

  “Lucy! You scared me half to death,” Tamsyn scolded as she got out of the car and scooped the cat up in her arms.

  Lucy merely bunted Tamsyn’s chin with her head and began to purr loudly. Inside the house, Tamsyn made sure that the cat was fed and watered and went through to her bedroom. Her mind still raced and, despite all her activity in the garden this morning, she felt totally wired and re
ady to do something, anything, rather than go to sleep.

  Anything? she thought to herself. How about Finn Gallagher?

  She giggled, earning a quizzical look from Lucy, who, after completing her supper, had jumped up onto Tamsyn’s bed and begun grooming herself.

  The chirp of her phone distracted her from her thoughts. Who could be ringing at this hour?

  “Hello?” she answered cautiously.

  “It’s me, Finn. I just wanted to check and see if you got home safely.”

  Warmth spread through her body in response to his rich deep voice.

  “I did, and thank you again for tonight. I enjoyed it.” She hesitated a moment before adding, “All of it.”

  She could hear the smile on his lips as he answered. “Me, too. By the way, I still have your salad bowl. Okay if I drop that around to you tomorrow?”

  Her heart leaped in her chest. Okay? Of course it was okay. She couldn’t wait to see him again.

  “Sure, I’ll be home after one.”

  “I’ll be around shortly after, then. Good night, Tamsyn.”

  “Good night,” she whispered, suddenly reluctant to lose the all-too-brief connection between them.

  She felt like a teenager waiting for the other person to hang up first, not prepared to be the one to do it herself. She heard the beep as he disconnected the call and finally hit the end button on her phone.

  Well, clearly her silly rush to leave after their embrace hadn’t put him off wanting to see her again, Tamsyn thought as she brushed her teeth and readied herself for bed. Later, as she lay between her lavender-scented sheets and absently stroked Lucy, who had curled up by her waist, she played the evening back in her mind.

  Relived that all-too-brief kiss. A kiss that had ignited a passion she’d feared she was incapable of igniting—both within herself and within a partner. A passion that had been unequivocally reciprocated. The realization was both empowering and terrifying in equal proportions.

  She sighed in the dark, squirming a little against the mattress as her body started that slow burn all over again, aching and wanting. Tamsyn shifted position and tried to rid her thoughts of anything to do with Finn Gallagher. God, she thought as she finally began to drift off to sleep, if a single kiss could leave her this flummoxed, what would she be like if they ever made love?

  Or maybe she should be asking herself, when they made love?

  Eleven

  Tamsyn made it into town early after a surprisingly deep sleep. It seemed that a delicious meal and good-night kiss from a supersexy man was enough to chase the doubt demons away. She really should do it more often, she thought with a cheeky smile at herself in the rearview mirror of her car.

  She parked near the hall and then made her way to the library, determined today to find the librarian, Miriam. The library doors stood open as she approached, always a good sign, and when she entered, she saw that it was doing a brisk business. As she mounted the stairs to the entrance, several people gave her a second glance—something she was beginning to get used to around here. Perhaps they treated all newcomers that way.

  An older woman, with hair an interesting shade of pale blue, was busy checking out books at the front desk. Tamsyn waited until the line receded before stepping forward.

  “Excuse me, I’m looking for Miriam. Gladys sent me.”

  “Oh, you must be the new seniors’ coordinator,” the woman said brightly, her pale blue eyes sparkling through the lenses of her pink wire-framed glasses.

  “Yes, temporarily at least.” Tamsyn smiled. “Are you Miriam?”

  “Yes, dear, I am. How can I help you? Looking for a specific title?”

  The woman changed windows on the computer in front of her and looked expectantly at Tamsyn, her hands poised over the keyboard.

  “I’m looking for my mother, actually. Ellen Masters. I was wondering if I could view the electoral rolls to see if she’s still a resident in the area.”

  “The electoral rolls? Did Gladys send you here for those?”

  “Well, she did say you’d know where I could find information about people living in the area.”

  “Hmm.” Miriam slipped her glasses off her face and chewed thoughtfully on the tip of one arm. “Well, the electoral rolls aren’t kept here. They used to be at the post office, but since all the smaller ones were closed down some years ago, your best bet for that information would be in Blenheim, or even Nelson. What did you say your mother’s name was?”

  “Ellen Masters, have you heard of her?”

  Tamsyn held her breath, hoping against hope that Miriam would smile and tell her that of course she knew her mother, but her hopes were dashed as the older woman shook her pale blue head.

  “I don’t know anyone of that name.”

  Tamsyn forced a smile to her face. “Thanks anyway.”

  “You’re welcome, dear, and good luck for today.”

  “Today?”

  “With the oldies,” Miriam said with a conspiratorial wink.

  “You think I’ll need it?” Tamsyn said, this time with a genuine smile.

  “Some of those old men can be a bit of a handful. Mind you, most of them always were. You’d best hurry on then. You don’t want to be late on your first day.”

  Miriam hadn’t been kidding, Tamsyn realized later on. Every man there, whether he be in a wheelchair or ambulatory, was an incorrigible flirt. By the time twelve-thirty rolled around she’d received no less than three offers of marriage and a few offers of other things she wouldn’t touch with a barge pole. It was all in fun, though, and as she took the box with the door takings to Gladys she felt as if she’d been a part of something worthwhile for a change.

  Her life had become so superficial, she realized as she said her goodbyes to Gladys. She’d lost touch with the simpler things, the ones that made her feel valuable and valued. At The Masters, her work had become a daily treadmill of boosting sales for their luxury accommodations and winning business for functions and weddings, together with all the various, and sometimes outrageous, requests those events demanded. Even events that should have been meaningful lost their warmth and humanity when they became that grand and elaborate. Her work had stopped being personally satisfying a long time ago.

  Today had been a much-needed shot in the arm. A reminder that a little effort, a little care, went a long way. Tomorrow she would go into Blenheim again and find those blasted electoral rolls and, if she had no luck there she’d also go to Nelson.

  Gladys was on the phone and just waved at Tamsyn to put the box with the takings on her desk. Tamsyn did so and then walked to her car. She wound the windows down to let out the accumulated heat and checked her phone. In her email, she saw a forwarded mail from their father’s lawyer confirming the address she’d been given was the correct one.

  She struck her steering wheel in frustration. It was like being caught in a continual loop, each time ending with Finn Gallagher. Surely if he knew anything about her mother at all, he would have said something by now? It just didn’t make any sense. Still puzzling over the situation, she started her car and headed back to the cottage.

  Tamsyn kept the car windows down on her drive, hoping the breeze whipping through would help clear her mind. As she turned up the driveway, she heard the roar of a mower. It grew louder the closer she got to the house. Her eyes widened in appreciation as she espied the source of the noise.

  Dressed in jeans and rubber boots and with a pair of earmuffs bracketing his head, Finn Gallagher rode a mower across the tangled lawn, making short work of the piles of weeds she’d left the other day as well as the overlong grass. The sweet scent of freshly cut grass hung in the heated air, but it was nowhere near as sweet as the view of raw male that presented itself to her.

  Sweat gleamed across the tanned surface of his back and she watched the
muscles at his shoulders bunch and shift as he turned the wheel. A deep throb built inside her body, sending heat and moisture of a different kind to pool at the juncture of her thighs. Finn executed a neat three-point-turn and began to drive the mower toward her, his hand lifting in acknowledgment as he saw her standing there.

  She was grateful she didn’t need to speak because right now, with him driving toward her, shirtless, she doubted she’d be able to form a single comprehensible word. Lines of sweat gathered in the ridges of Finn’s taut abdomen. It seemed the more moisture collected on his body, the dryer her mouth became.

  He cut the engine on the mower and braked to a stop in front of her.

  “H-hello,” she said hesitantly.

  “Hello yourself.”

  The effect of his smile curled all the way to her toes.

  “I finished my work early this morning and came down to return your salad bowl. I’ve left it at the front door,” he said and gestured to the veranda. “Since I was at a loose end, I thought I’d surprise you with the lawns.”

  Oh, he’d surprised her, all right.

  “You look…hot,” she said, feeling a fair amount of that heat radiating all over her body.

  “I wouldn’t mind a drink of water.”

  “I’ll get you some.”

  She shot away, more as a measure of self-preservation than anything else. In the kitchen she sloshed cold tap water into a jug, sliced a lemon and threw the pieces into the water together with some ice from the freezer and a sprig of mint from the plant at the back door, then put the jug and two glasses on a tray. Several deep steadying breaths later, she carried the tray out onto the veranda.

  “Here,” she said, pouring a glass of water for Finn and handing it to him.

  “Thanks.”

  He took the glass and downed it in a couple of long easy swallows. Tamsyn was mesmerized by the muscles working in his throat and forced herself to look away.

  “Another?” God, was that her voice? That weird strangled sound?