When younger, she and Adrienne believed their house was haunted. Well, it was haunted. Shanna saw a ghost of an old woman to prove it. She’d even taken her claim to a psychic who said Shanna had the talent to communicate with spirits.
Why in the world would she want to do that?
A talent? Really? It sounded more like an affliction.
Every noise she and Adrienne heard in the closets and every footstep thumping along the hardwood floor between their rooms, they’d attested to the predictable ghost. They’d even gone as far as setting tape recorders in their bedrooms to capture voices. They’d never caught any but the thrill was in trying. Then one morning before Shanna crawled out of bed to dress for school, the edge of her blanket lifted and a gnarled hand, like a demon claw, shot beneath the covers and grabbed her thigh. Terrified, she ran from the room screaming. Even though she’d showed her mom the scratches left on her leg, Mom tried convincing Shanna she’d done it to herself. That was the last time she’d mentioned ghosts and demons to her mother and she never again set a tape recorder inside her room.
Grandma, on the other hand, believed Shanna’s episode. Shortly after, she’d presented Shanna with the bracelet. Grandma said it would keep her safe because it’d been blessed with the greatest strengths of each zodiac sign. Although Shanna didn’t believe metal trinkets could play such an important role in her life because she felt no different whether it was on or off her wrist, she found comfort in Grandma’s gesture.
What would Adrienne say now if Shanna explained last night’s encounter with the supernatural? If Shanna had any self-respect left by the time she fled this place, she wouldn’t even mention it.
She slid her sunglasses from the top of her head to her nose to conceal the dark circles under her bloodshot eyeballs. Ugh. As if those weren’t bad enough, her entire genital area was swollen and tender.
Swearing on her life, she’d had sex with a huge cock. No, she hadn’t seen it, but she didn’t have to. She knew how a sound screwing felt. And just because she couldn’t see it didn’t mean it hadn’t happened. The fact was, she’d been wide awake. It wasn’t a dream or delirium from lack of nutrition. Nor had she fist-fucked herself. Seriously. To even suggest she’d do something so atrocious. And she knew she’d also been fucked on the bed moments prior to that incident. And she’d tried convincing herself she’d had a wet dream?
Not even Adrienne would believe she’d had sex with a ghost.
She depressed the lift button and waited, pacing the hall. The bell chimed and door slid open. After stepping inside the compartment she pressed the L button, leaned against the wall and closed her eyes. Too soon she’d dropped to her destination and the lobby ding startled her from a quick, ten-second snooze.
Beautiful hotel, but worth shit for relaxation. She stepped into the hall and walked as far as the adjacent main corridor then stopped. That old lift had better not give her any shit today either. She’d already loaded her vocabulary with a few expletives for Miss Áine Byrne, owner extraordinaire. She could spare a few on the creepy elevator.
She lifted her sunglasses, glanced at the open compartment and inhaled sharply. Gripping her purse strap, she resituated the glasses on the brim of her nose then darted toward the main lobby. As she neared the lift she dropped her gaze to the floor. “Don’t mess with me,” she grumbled while she scurried by.
Thankfully she made it to the desk without incident. Áine stood in the reception area with hands clasped at her back. A thirty-something receptionist sat on an office chair directly to her left. Both women reeked of sophistication in their tailored suits. The receptionist wore dark-green, emphasizing her flaming-red locks. Áine, on the other hand, softened her appearance with a dark-brown ensemble and beige blouse.
“Good morning, Ms. Haden,” Áine said as she greeted Shanna with a welcoming smile.
“Hi.”
Áine gently took hold of Shanna’s hand. “I see your fiancé checked out unexpectedly last night. Is everything all right, my dear?”
“Yes. Everything is fine.” How could Shanna expel her frustrations via the mouthful of vulgar words she’d planned for this woman whose demeanor was nothing short of compassionate? Áine acted too pleasant and too generally concerned to suffer Shanna’s wrath. “I’d like to ship his suitcase back to Ohio. Is there someone here who can help me do that?”
“Of course.” She guided Shanna to the desk. “This is Mary Coughlan, my general manager. She’s filling in today and will assist you. Our receptionist has an abominable case of the flu. Bless her heart, she never takes ill.” Áine smiled at the manager. “Mary, this is Shanna Haden. She’s in dire need of shipping this suitcase.” Áine carefully removed it from Shanna’s hand and lugged it onto the top of the counter. “Her fiancé Mr. Williams left abruptly last night.”
“Oh yes, I recall seeing a note this morning regarding his departure,” Ms. Coughlan replied. She shuffled through a stack of papers on the desk. “Ah, here it is.” She held up a small notepad and executed a horrible act of pretending to read the page. “It states a complete refund was issued to him for the room.”
Both women glanced at Shanna with raised, inquiring brows.
Great. “I’ll pay for last night,” Shanna said as she removed her wallet from her purse. After flipping through the credit card section, she handed Mary her MasterCard. “But,” she added flatly, “if I can schedule a flight home, I’ll be checking out sometime today.”
Áine laid a hand on the base of her own throat as if appalled. “Whatever for, dear? Why don’t you remain at Tullamore and take advantage of the tranquility?”
Tranquility? Right. “If I’m unable to leave today, will it be possible to stay in a different room?”
Mary coughed. She exchanged glances with Áine then quickly looked down at the desk and fidgeted with the cash register.
Áine subtly cleared her throat. “You’re not happy with the accommodations?”
“The room is beautiful.”
“But?” Áine asked, glancing once quickly at Mary from the corner of her eye.
“Um…” Shanna tucked strands of hair behind her ears before removing the credit card receipt from Mary’s outstretched hand. “I’d rather not discuss it.” Her fingers trembled while signing the paper and sliding it back to Ms. Coughlan. “By the way, the phone in my room doesn’t work.”
“Yes, well, that is an unfortunate, ongoing problem we’re experiencing at Tullamore lately,” Áine said, resting a gentle hand on the center of Shanna’s back.
“We’re very sorry, Ms. Haden,” Mary said, shoving the receipt inside a drawer, but she neglected to look Shanna in the eye. “We take pride in our hotel, but sometimes modern technology doesn’t always agree with this old building.”
“Maybe it’s the phone itself,” Shanna stated. “Can you replace it?”
“We can—”
“Unfortunately not,” Áine said firmly, interrupting Mary. “We’re certain the problem isn’t the equipment. But if there’s anything else we can do to make your stay more pleasurable, please don’t hesitate to bring it to our attention. We’re always willing to listen to our patrons’ experiences.”
“A sprinkle of holy water may not hurt,” Shanna mumbled too softly for either woman to hear. “Everything is perfect. I just, um…” she chewed on her bottom lip while rubbing her thumb along the bare spot on her finger where the year-old engagement ring used to sit. “I don’t feel comfortable in that suite. It’s a little creepy since Derek left. I think it’s too big or something.”
Áine grinned. “I’m terribly sorry, my dear. We have no vacancies. The rooms are full,” she added rather frankly.
“Then I guess I’ll find a different hotel. Ms. Cochran, please ship the suitcase to Derek at the address you have on file.”
Áine laid her fingers on Shanna’s forearm, and none too lightly. “Why don’t you give us one more chance? Running off to another location when you presently have reservations at Tullamore is quit
e foolish.” She took Shanna by the hand and gave her a tug, escorting her toward the main entrance. She glanced over her shoulder at Mary and nodded once then continued guiding Shanna to the glass doors. “The gardens are breathtaking this time of the year. Why don’t you take a stroll around the grounds? The brisk, fresh air may clear your head and convince you to stay.”
“But I’d rather—”
“Shush now.” Áine pulled the door open. “There’s no point in arguing.”
“I’m not—”
“Enjoy your stroll,” Áine said, shoving Shanna gently over the threshold on to the top step beside the concierge.
Shanna snapped her mouth shut as the door slid closed. Hugging herself to chase away the chill, she glanced inside through the window. What just happened in there? She had every intention of telling Áine Byrne, owner extraordinaire, to shove her haunted hotel up her butt. How the heck did she end up outdoors on the steps?
“It’s a wee bit chilly, wouldn’t you say?” the concierge asked, startling Shanna.
She glanced upward into the face of a chipper, thirty-something male and faked a smile. “Yes.”
“May I suggest you put your sweater on rather than carry it by way of your shoulders?” He winked.
“That’s not a bad idea. It looks like I’m taking a walk.” She slipped her arms through the sweater sleeves and overlapped the front panels at her breasts. “Does she always chase her guests outside?”
“Ms. Byrne?” He laughed. “At least once a day.”
It was a very contagious belly sound and Shanna couldn’t help it, she laughed along with him. “No!”
“I’m jesting, lass. She doesn’t chase them away too often.” He offered his hand in greeting. “Seamus O’Kane at your service.”
Shanna slid her palm against his and gave it a firm shake. “Shanna Haden. It’s a pleasure to meet you, Seamus.” She lowered her hand to her side. “So, where do you suggest I go?”
“Pardon my forwardness, but were you not accompanied by a gentleman yesterday?”
“Yes, that’s correct.” She needn’t say more but when his brows rose in question, she took a deep breath and released it slowly. “He got called home last night.”
Seamus’ forehead wrinkled and he frowned. “Nothing serious, I pray,” he said as he folded his hands behind his back and began rocking heel to toe.
“No.”
Something straight ahead caught his attention and he stiffened. “I’m flabbergasted at his decision to leave as fine a lass as you behind,” he said.
“Thank you… I think.” What else could she say? Oh Seamus, I kicked him out because he’s stealing money from dead people. Ugh. She glanced at the parking lot to catch a glimpse of the subject holding Seamus’ interest. What was he looking at? All of the unattended vehicles?
As statuesque as he’d become, she didn’t miss his facial expression when he’d looked down at her without moving his head so much as a fraction of an inch, then he glanced back at the parking lot and nodded once.
“I assume Ms. Byrne tried directing you to the gardens,” he stated. “They are breathtaking this time of year.”
So Áine and Seamus established the same fact—the gardens are breathtaking this time of year. What was so spectacular about that? Shanna adored nature’s beauty but she preferred lounging indoors rather than out. The summers in Ohio were often too hot, winters too cold, springs too rainy and falls too bland after the colorful leaves dropped from the trees. Right now she’d rather be sitting inside the lobby indulging in the artificial warmth of the fireplace versus walking the grounds beneath the gloomy sky. Those gardens were probably pretty muddy this time of year. “Thank you, Seamus. I guess I’ll go take a look at what everyone is fussing about.”
“Follow the walkway, lass.”
She would—right up to the back door. Then she’d sit in the library and browse the internet to schedule a flight home. Today. She couldn’t spend another night in room 338. If nothing else she’d crash on a bench at the airport. “I will. I enjoyed talking to you, Mr. O’Kane.”
“Good day.”
Carefully she descended the concrete steps and followed the sidewalk to the right and along the front of the building toward the eastern wing. There had to be a door someplace on the end to get inside.
As her stilettos clip-clopped along the stone, she glanced side to side at the landscaping. The bushes were uniform along the path, surrounded by black mulch and large marble stones. They were pretty but not as jaw-dropping as Ms. Byrne and Mr. O’Kane alluded to. Then she passed a row of tall evergreens that ended at the opening of a gorgeous garden of various red, yellow and rust-colored flowers intermixed within a maze of golden-leafed trees.
It appeared as if heaven mirrored its image on earth in that exact area. And she was so enthralled by the picturesque view, she stopped rushing toward the building to admire the beauty. “Oh my gosh,” she said on the trail of a whispery breath.
“Welcome to my garden,” someone said at her back.
Shanna froze. She recognized that sensual brogue, and as it wavered along her spine like a feathery caress, heat rushed to her cheeks. Slowly she turned, her heart booming inside her chest. And there he stood—the hunky man with black trousers hanging off his hips, bare chest chiseled in muscle, and undressing her body with his eyes one piece of clothing at a time. She shivered. “Hi. You’re the gardener?”
He nodded and his eyes lit up.
She swallowed and tightened the sweater at her waist. “It’s stunning.” Put tongue back inside mouth. Wipe drool off chin.
“Beauty flourishes at Tullamore,” he said, his mocha eyes breaching her sunglasses to reach completely inside her soul. He took hold of her hand and brought her fingers to his lips for a languid kiss.
Lord, I’m melting. This man had the warmest, smoothest mouth and his compassion wrapped around her skin and entrapped her like hot bathwater. She watched as he lowered her hand but he didn’t release it from his large but tender grip.
“I’m Niall Brogan.”
She lifted her gaze back to his eyes. Gold flecks sparkled in his irises. “Shanna Haden.” How could Derek say this man didn’t exist? He probably felt threatened by Niall’s hauntingly astute good looks, and most likely wished the guy didn’t exist. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
“No,” he droned, bringing her fingers once again to his lips. “The pleasure is all mine, Shanna.”
Mercy, her name rolled off his tongue like a lyrical poem. And she felt so drawn to his smooth mannerisms, her thoughts scattered.
“May I ask where you’re heading in such a hurry?”
Luckily she hadn’t traveled too far too quickly, otherwise she might have missed the honor of his acquaintance. “Inside.”
“On such a beautiful day?”
She looked overhead at the thick, dark-gray clouds hovering in the murky sky then glanced back into his eyes. This is what he perceived as beautiful weather? “You’re not cold?” She dropped her gaze to his chest, his nipples, then to his lower abs. Nice. Better than nice. More like, mouthwatering delicious. A thrill raced up her spine. And while examining those solid muscles she sensed his eyes tracing her face. “I guess that’s a silly question, considering you’ve been working. It probably feels refreshing to you.”
“It does, but you’re trembling. Can I escort you into the hotel?”
Yes. And to your room if you don’t mind. She smiled meekly and nodded. “I’d like that.” Very much.
“Will your gentleman friend be waiting?”
Gentleman friend? Oh geez—Derek. “No. I sort of kicked him out of our room last night. As far as I know, he returned to the States.” Why’d she make it a point to tell Niall the truth when she’d lied to Seamus? She had a feeling she’d submerge her head in the pond and bob for pennies if Niall told her to.
“I sense relief.” He subtly squeezed her fingers. “Am I right?”
She shrugged. “I suppose.” She didn’t want a p
ity party or anything but seriously, how could Derek do that to her mother? The greedy bastard had no couth.
A breeze whipped by, nipping at her bare legs. Her teeth chattered as she fisted the sweater closed with her free hand. With nothing barricading her backside from the brisk air blowing inland from the lough, she stepped closer to Niall. If she’d known she’d be wandering outside the castle grounds rather than staying tucked inside the hotel, she would’ve packed a few pairs of pants.
“Come, Shanna. The wind is strengthening and it’ll only get worse.”
She snuggled against his arm as he led her through the colorful garden and toward a back entrance. “Would you mind joining me in the café for a cup of tea, Niall?”
“I’ve already had two with breakfast but I’ll sit with you awhile.”
Her heart smiled as he released her hand and opened the door, allowing her access first. Warmth captured her immediately and her flesh accelerated into defrost mode. She thought about removing her sunglasses but chose not to reveal the dark circles. Cripes, she didn’t want to scare the man off.
She rubbed her hands together during the entire silent walk to the café. A sign outside the entrance read, Full attire is required for dining in our establishment. Please be considerate to your fellow patrons. No shoes, no shirt—you’ll be leaving hungry. Our apologies.
Shanna swept her eyes along Niall’s six-foot-something, sexier-than-hell body. Her breath caught. Even his feet looked damn good in flip-flops. “You, um, need more clothes.”
“It’ll be fine. I’m staff.”
Why would that make a difference? The sign didn’t state, employees excluded. Well, whether or not he’d be invited to stay, she guaranteed the female guests wouldn’t be disappointed and would not complain.
A hostess wearing a white blouse and black vest stood behind a podium, waiting to seat guests. An adorable smile lit up her green eyes and rosy cheeks. “Good morning, ma’am. How many will be joining you?”
“A table for two please.” What a sweet young lady. A little rude for not personally acknowledging Niall but still sweet nonetheless.
Phantom Mischief Page 4
