The Seduction of Shamus O’Rourke

by N. J. Walters

  “Now that you mention it, I seem to remember that. Your father didn’t use a local company to do the work, but brought in someone from outside.”

  Cyndi snorted. “Sounds like him.”

  “I take it you’ll be using local tradesmen.”

  “If I can get them to work for me, I will.”

  “That won’t be a problem.” Shamus wrapped his hand around her upper arm, stopping her.

  “Cyndi.” The heat from his hand seeped into her skin, warming her. She hadn’t realized she was chilly. “You don’t have to do this today.”

  She knew he was talking about her old room, but she was determined. She’d put it off long enough. “Yes, I do.”

  He released her and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Okay, but promise me if it gets to be too much, you’ll call it a day and try again tomorrow or the day after.”

  “I will.” She was touched by his concern. Reaching out, she laid her hands on his chest, absorbing his strength and his warmth. “Having you here makes it easier.”

  “I’m glad.” Leaning down, he brushed a kiss across her lips before straightening back to his great height. “Let’s get this done.” Not waiting for her, he grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and pushed.

  The room was exactly the same as it was the last time she’d been here. Walking inside was like walking through a time warp. “This room needs to be gutted—clothing, belongings, furniture, carpet, the works.”

  “Whose idea was it to put white carpet on the floor?”

  “Not mine.” Cyndi hauled open the closet doors. Designer clothing filled it from one end to another. “I should have the antiques dealer look at some of these. They might qualify as vintage. Most of it is designer stuff. She might know a resale store that would take them on consignment.”

  “You don’t want to keep any of it?” His deep voice penetrated her thoughts.

  “No.” She shivered. “I never picked any of it out anyway. I was always told what to buy, what to wear.”

  Shamus tucked her beneath his arm. “You’re cold. Why don’t we get you a sweater and something warm to drink before we check out the attic?”

  Tilting her head back, she looked at Shamus. She could see the concern in his eyes, but it was tinged with sadness. Tentatively, she broached the subject that had been on her mind all afternoon. “What’s wrong? You’ve been upset since you got here.”

  Turning her in his embrace, he herded her toward the door. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Okay.” Ouch! That certainly put her in her place. She glanced away, trying to hide her hurt, but he saw it anyway.

  “I don’t mean to hurt you.” His hand tightened around her waist before falling back by his side. “I’m not shutting you out.” He closed the bedroom door behind them, locking the memories inside. “I need to think some things through, but for this afternoon, I don’t want to think about my problems. I just want to enjoy being with you.”

  “Fair enough.” She knew his problems probably had something to do with her, but there was nothing she could do to help until he talked to her. And he obviously wasn’t ready to do that yet.

  “How about I grab a sweater and we go up to the attic and have a quick look around? When we have an idea what’s there, we’ll go downstairs and I’ll make us some coffee or hot chocolate.”

  “You sure?” Concern was etched on his face. Her heart turned over as he rubbed his hands over her arms to warm them. She soaked up all the loving care and kindness that he dispensed so easily. For a woman who’d never gotten that kind of attention from a man before, it was heady stuff.

  “I’m sure.” She patted his arm to try to reassure him. “Let me grab a sweater.” She hurried into her room and grabbed a warm, beige cardigan, tugging it on over her T-shirt while Shamus waited patiently outside her door.

  “Which way to the attic?”

  “Follow me.” She led him to the large storage closet at the end of the hallway and tugged open the door. Reaching out, she flicked on the light switch, bathing the room in a dim light. The closet was actually the actually the size of a small room, and immediately to the right of the door a set of stairs went upward.

  “Clever.” Shamus was obviously impressed as he followed her up the stairs.

  “Convenient too.” Cyndi hadn’t been up here in years. Not since she was a kid. When the lights worked, she gave thanks to the diligence of the staff that had worked here.

  “Wow.” She could hear the awe in Shamus’ voice. It echoed her own thoughts.

  “I always thought this place was magical when I was a kid.” The room was dusty and smelled stale, but not musty. Stuff was piled high, filling practically every square inch. “My family didn’t believe in throwing things out.” She moved forward, lifting a dust cover and peering beneath. “Oh, look at this.”

  Shamus grabbed the other end of the cloth tarp and lifted, revealing the frame of a large sleigh bed and matching dresser. “The workmanship is amazing.” He ran his hand over the wood grain.

  Cyndi shivered, but this time it wasn’t because of the cold. Watching Shamus stroke the wood reminded her of how he’d touched her last night. “I want this for my room.”

  “I don’t blame you. It’s a beautiful piece of work.”

  They re-covered it and moved on. Like two kids in a candy store, they were eager to see what was beneath each covering. Shamus uncovered several more antique bedroom sets, while she found half a dozen chairs that would work perfectly when they were reupholstered.

  “Look at this.” She’d hit the mother lode in a far corner. “Tables.” There were five small tables that would sit four people at each. “These are perfect for the dining room.”

  Shamus grabbed a large tarp close by and tugged. “Ah ha!”

  “What?” She turned and began to cough and sputter as dust filled the air.

  “Chairs.”

  Cyndi waved her hand in front of her face, as she hurried over beside him. Sure enough, piled haphazardly on one another were easily fifteen to twenty chairs. “This is perfect. They don’t all match, but they’ll look amazing with all the seats covered in the same fabric. It will be charming and inviting, but not stuffy.”

  “No. Not stuffy at all.” Shamus cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “You’ve got dust all over your face.”

  “And whose fault is that?” Her voice was husky as she leaned into his touch.

  “Not all mine.” He moved closer and she rose on her toes to meet him. His warm, firm lips touched hers and she sighed as her insides turned to liquid. All he had to do was look at her a certain way and she wanted him. His mouth barely touched hers, and her entire body hummed with pleasure.

  His hand snaked around her waist, tugging her closer. She could feel the outline of his erection as it pressed against her stomach. The kiss went on and on. It was unhurried, a goal in and of itself. Their tongues twined together, their lips melding. The man certainly knew how to kiss. Heat suffused her entire body, making her sweat beneath her sweater. Shamus could drive away the cold, whether it was physical or emotional.

  When he raised his head, all she could do was stare at him. She licked her lips, not wanting to lose his taste and he groaned. “Enough of that. This isn’t the time or the place.” He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and brushed another smudge of dirt from her face. “We need to finish here and then I need some coffee.”

  “Right.” She reached out and swiped at the bridge of his nose. “I’m not the only one who’s dusty.”

  “Yeah, but I’m a manly kinda guy. It just makes me look tough.”

  Cyndi laughed, as she knew he’d intended. He was only joking, but the fact was, he was right. It did only serve to make him appear more rugged and handsome. “Come on, tough guy.”

  Tossing the cover back on the chairs, she headed toward the door. She was halfway there when some boxes caught her eye. “I just want to check this out.”

  Shamus laughed, but refra
ined from saying anything.

  Ignoring him, she flipped open the cover of one box and then another. They were filled with packing paper, so she reached inside and drew out one of the wrapped items. Carefully pulling back the paper, she exclaimed in delight. “China!” Laying the delicate plate back down on top of the box, she reached into the one alongside it and unwrapped another bundle. It was another plate, but a different pattern.

  “This is good, right?” Shamus picked up a cup and examined it. The delicate china looked fragile in his huge hand, but he held it with exquisite care. This was a man very aware of his strength, and he adjusted accordingly.

  Cyndi was struck with how the image defined the man as a whole. Shamus might only be thirty, but he was very self-aware, even more so than most men who were a lot older. He was a man of honesty and integrity who would never use his strength against another. But he would use every last ounce of it to protect someone he loved. She was as certain of that as she was of the fact that the sun would rise in the east tomorrow morning.

  He was also extremely stubborn and had a tendency to keep things to himself. It was as if he didn’t want to burden other people with his problems. It made her feel as if there was a barrier between them. She’d poured out her heart to him, while he kept his problems to himself. She was hoping he’d learn to open up and share with her more as time went on.

  They’d only known each other for a matter of days, but she already knew that she wanted to be loved by this man, to fall under his protection. But at the same time, she wondered who looked out for him and his best interests. Shamus was a natural caretaker, and it would be easy to allow him to take over and do everything that needed doing. Cyndi wasn’t going to allow that to happen. At least not in their relationship.

  For one, she wanted and needed to stand on her own two feet. And secondly, Shamus needed a strong woman to stand beside him and keep the rest of the world from taking advantage of him.

  Not that he was a pushover. Shamus hid a will of iron beneath his easygoing façade. When it was something he cared about, she had a feeling no one could match him for sheer stubbornness. But he was such a naturally giving person that it would be easy for him to be the one always on the giving end and never on the receiving.

  Clearing her throat, she answered his question. “Yes, it’s very good. I need to go through all these boxes and see what’s here. I like the patterns a lot more than the formal Wedgwood that’s in the dining room hutch.”

  Shamus tucked the cup back in the box and closed the top. “There are six boxes here. How about we bring them downstairs, and you can check them out while we’re waiting for the coffee to brew?”

  Cyndi carefully closed the box next to her, once again reminded of how different Shamus was. She knew that he couldn’t care less about the china, but he cared because he sensed it was important to her. “I’d like that.”

  Grabbing a box, she carried it down the stairs, laying it on the floor of the storage room.

  Shamus was right behind her with two boxes balanced in his arms. One more trip and they had the six boxes in the storage room and the stairs to the attic shut tight.

  “I’ll probably leave most of the furniture up there until the renovations are done.” She grabbed a box and headed for the main staircase. “I should get the chairs down and find out who in town can do upholstery work. Once I pick out fabric, I can send them out to be done.”

  “Sounds like a plan.” Shamus’s boots were heavy as he followed her down the stairs. “I’ve been meaning to ask—” He broke off as he walked down the hall and into the kitchen.

  “Meaning to ask what?” She laid her box on the counter and watched as Shamus did the same.

  Dusting off his hands, he leaned against the counter. “You checked with city hall about the zoning for this, didn’t you? I know that you know what you’re doing when it comes to running a B & B, but I wasn’t sure how much you’d had to deal with town bylaws and things of that nature.”

  She smiled, not at all offended. She knew that he wasn’t questioning her intelligence, but he was honestly concerned. “Don’t worry. That’s not in question. This has been James land for about a hundred and fifty years. When the town was incorporated, it was agreed that this land was zoned for whatever the James family wanted to do with it. I searched through my father’s records. Even if the town doesn’t have it on file, I’ve got it here. But I do plan to hit city hall on Monday to check and to get the necessary permits for the renovations.”

  “Got it all figured out, do you?”

  Cyndi smiled at the look of pride and satisfaction on his face. “I wish.” Her smile disappeared. “I just wish that the rest of life was as easy to figure out.”

  “It’ll come.” Shamus pushed away from the counter. “Give it time.” He headed to the door.

  “I’ll get the other three boxes. You start the coffee.”

  “You sure?” Like he couldn’t carry three boxes down the stairs himself.

  “Positive.” He paused in the doorway. “Do you still have that cheesecake I brought last night?”

  “Hungry, are you?”

  His eyes darkened to a stormy blue-gray. “You have no idea, but cheesecake will do. For now.” With that parting shot, he left.

  Cyndi could only stare after him. He’d done it again. With nothing more than a look and a few words, he had all the nerves in her body jumping. Her limbs felt like jelly, and her breasts ached.

  The pounding of his booted feet going up the stairs shook her out of her daze. “Girl, you are in such trouble,” she muttered to herself as she hurried to start the coffee and pull the cheesecake out of the refrigerator. Still, she couldn’t hold back the smile that bloomed on her face. She might be in trouble, but she figured she was up to the challenge.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Shamus held the door open for her and she stepped into the shop. This was her first real foray into town since her arrival in Jamesville. Yes, she’d visited the diner and the grocery store her first day here, as well as her lawyer, but this was different. Now, folks knew who she was.

  She had no idea what to expect from people, but she squared her shoulders. She wiped her sweaty palms against her dark brown, corduroy pants as she glanced around. Shamus had told her this was the best place in town to get paint and supplies.

  “You okay?”

  She knew she’d been acting strange since they’d cleaned up and left the house. Shamus had suggested the trip into town after they’d had their coffee and cheesecake, and she’d unpacked all the china they’d found in the attic. She would have been content to stay at home, but Cyndi was smart enough to know she had to do this eventually.

  She’d questioned his assertion that he wanted to go with her, reminding him of the problems he’d face if he were associated with her. He’d gotten a stubborn look on his face and told her to get cleaned up.

  She’d known he had an iron will, but this was the first time she’d really seen it in action. No, that wasn’t really true, she thought. He’d exhibited his strength of will from the very first moment she’d met him when he insisted on changing her tire. Usually, he laughed and went about doing whatever it was he felt needed doing. Cyndi had a feeling that most folks didn’t even realize they’d been steamrolled because he did it in such a good-natured way.

  She thought about pleading a headache and going on another day, but she had a feeling that he’d know what she was up to. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt him. She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t. Being seen with her would hurt his reputation, but if she didn’t allow him to go with her, she sensed it would hurt him even more deeply.

  The man occupying her thoughts was now staring at her with concern. “I’m fine,” she hurriedly reassured him. He didn’t look totally convinced, but he left the subject alone, for which she was grateful.

  “This way.” He led her toward the back of the store and the colorful display of paint chips.

  She searched the aisles
as she followed him, pleasantly surprised by the quality and variety of merchandise available. She was ticking through a mental list of what she needed versus what seemed to be available here. Today was all about paint, but she could barely contain the excitement flaring inside. She was itching to get on with the renovations.

  “Afternoon, Shamus. What can I do for you today?” The booming male voice came from the right. Cyndi turned to find a rather large man with a handlebar mustache and a bald head bearing down on them.

  “Afternoon, Barton. I’m looking for paint today.”

  “You’ve come to the right place.” He slapped Shamus on the shoulder with his huge hand.

  Another man would have toppled over, but Shamus didn’t move an inch. Come to think of it, Shamus was even bigger than the other man was.

  The man noticed her standing behind Shamus and squinted in her direction. “Who do we have here?”

  “Cyndi Marks.” She stuck out her hand.

  The smile disappeared from Barton’s face and was replaced by a scowl. “I know who you are, Ms. James.”

  Feeling stupid with her hand left hanging, she returned it to her side. “My name is Marks.”

  “Whatever your name, doesn’t change who you are, or who your family is.” The man looked as if he were grinding his teeth to keep from saying something worse.

  “No, it doesn’t,” she said softly. Cyndi was who she was, but she was beginning to doubt the people of this town would ever let her move beyond the past. Nor would they ever forget who her father was and the way he’d all but ruled Jamesville for so many years. Cyrus James hadn’t been well liked by anyone. Respected, certainly. Feared, definitely. But nobody had liked him.

  “I don’t think you’ll find what you’re looking for here.” Barton rocked back on his heels, his hands on his hips.

  “That’s enough, Barton. Cyndi is with me.” Shamus’s hard tone cut through their conversation. It was almost comical how the older man’s expression changed from anger to one of disbelief. “We can take our business elsewhere if you’re not interested.”