The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke j-4

by N. J. Walters

  When he disappeared into the bathroom, she closed her eyes and wallowed in the sensations coursing through her body. She'd had three orgasms today. Three! One at lunchtime, and two more now. For a woman who'd never had an orgasm not induced by her vibrator, this had been a landmark day.

  She heard Shamus come out of the bathroom, but didn't open her eyes. Would he leave now? She wasn't really sure. The confidence that had carried her through while they were making love was beginning to slip away.

  The mattress dipped, and her eyes flew open when she felt a warm dampness between her legs. Shamus was calmly washing her with a washcloth he'd gotten in the bathroom. She could feel her cheeks getting warm, but before she could summon a protest, he was finished.

  Tossing the washcloth on the bedside table, he pulled back the covers, lifting her enough to slide her beneath them. Then he joined her, tugging her into his arms. She rested easily in the curve of his shoulder as if she'd been doing it her entire life.

  Her fingers seemed to move of their own accord, tracing the thick muscles that were prominent even when he was resting. She'd been so caught up in her own pleasure, she'd barely touched him. Next time, she promised herself.

  She'd just drifted into a light doze, when Shamus shifted, tilting her head so that she was looking up at him.

  "Now we talk."

  Chapter Eleven

  Shamus hadn't wanted to break the mellow mood that existed between them. Cyndi was snuggled into his arms as if she belonged there, and he wasn't keen to see her leave. But the world outside this room was still there, waiting for them. He needed to know what he was dealing with if he wanted a permanent spot in Cyndi's life.

  She stiffened and slowly sat up, clutching the comforter to her breast. “What do you want to talk about?” He could read the suspicion in her eyes, but he wasn't about to back down. This was too important to him. To them.

  "About the room. About this house.” He raked his fingers through his hair and dragged in a breath. “About your father."

  Her lips thinned and although she didn't move, he could feel her pulling away from him emotionally. “Just because we're sleeping together doesn't give you the right to know everything about my life."

  He ignored the ache her words brought him. He supposed he deserved it after shutting her out earlier this evening, although that didn't make it any easier to bear. Cyndi was scared and lashing out, and he was the target available. Still, it hurt. “No, not because we're sleeping together. Because I care, because I want to mean more to you than just a warm body in your bed."

  She closed her eyes and shuddered. When she opened them, they were filled with a deep sadness that shook him to his core. “You do mean more to me than that. I wouldn't have slept with you otherwise."

  "I know,” he murmured. Cyndi wasn't the kind of woman to let a man into her bed easily. He'd sensed that right from the beginning. It was as if she didn't quite trust people not to hurt her, so she kept her guard up at all times. The fact she'd let it down with him tonight gave him hope.

  He propped himself up against the headboard, resting his hands on his stomach. He wanted to drag Cyndi into his arms and cuddle her close, but he sensed now wasn't the time.

  She drew her legs up to her chest, wrapping her arms around them. Her skin was still rosy from their lovemaking, her hair tousled, but her eyes were dark with memories.

  "What happened?” he prompted.

  She laughed and the sound was bitter. “What happened? What could possibly have happened to Cynthia James, pampered princess of Jamesville?"

  Shamus narrowed his eyes, watching her intently. He noted she talked about herself in the third person, as if totally removed from the person she'd been. He said nothing, waiting patiently for her to continue.

  "My father was controlling.” She tightened her grip around her knees. “I had to eat what he told me, wear what he told me, do whatever he told me. And if I didn't—” She broke off and shuddered. Her eyes were bleak when she glanced over at him. “There was hell to pay."

  Shamus felt every muscle in his body tightening. “He hit you."

  She nodded and looked away.

  Fury, unlike anything he'd ever experienced in his life, surged through him. Knowing that anger was the last thing Cyndi needed, he forced himself to relax. Reaching out, he cupped her chin in his hand, smoothing his thumb over her cheek. “What else?"

  She shrugged away from his hold. The comforter dipped, exposing the tops of her breasts, but she was so involved in her story, she didn't notice. “Anyone who tried to help me found themselves without a job or run out of town. All the staff turned a blind eye and no one outside the house would have believed me. I had everything—clothing, jewelry, a car. But, he picked all the clothing and jewelry to showcase his wealth and attract the son-in-law he wanted. He registered the car in his name, and although I had accounts at every store he deemed appropriate, but I had no money of my own. Not a cent."

  "He kept you isolated.” It would have been easy to do, he mused. To the outside world, she'd had it all.

  "Yeah. I wanted to go to college after high school, but he wouldn't hear of it. It was easier for him to just tell his friends that I was a spoiled debutante, who didn't want to go to school. It was easy for people to believe him. I applied to several colleges with the help of a teacher at school. A few months later, my teacher was let go from her position, and the colleges wrote back to say that my application had been denied. Seems my father contacted them and told them I had mental problems."

  "That's insane.” Shamus was truly appalled by the depth of what Cyndi had suffered.

  "Yes, it is.” She shifted so that she was sitting cross-legged on the bed and tucked the covers around her. “I was another one of his possessions. His to do with as he chose.” She rubbed her finger over one of the flowers printed on the material, sighing before raising her head to look at him. “That's why I did what I did with Burke."

  Shamus hardly dared to breathe. He wanted to know what had gone on back then. He had his family's version, but he needed to know what had happened from Cyndi's perspective.

  When he didn't say anything, she continued. “Burke rolled into town and you could tell he was tough and strong, not afraid of anything or anyone. That was very appealing."

  "I imagine it was,” he murmured. For a girl who'd felt powerless her entire life, it would have been a huge enticement.

  "Then I found out he had money. I thought if he were attracted to me, then he might marry me. But he was interested in your sister.” When she glanced at him, her face was blank. “I'm not proud of what I did or how I acted, but I didn't know what else to do.” She rubbed her hand over her face. He could see the fatigue etched there.

  "It's okay."

  "No.” She shook her head vehemently. “No, it's not. I hurt people back then with how I acted, but I had to keep up the facade or I paid. And believe me, hurt feelings aren't as bad as—” She broke off and looked away.

  "As bad as a beating,” he finished.

  She nodded. “He never hit me in the face. He couldn't damage the goods."

  The way she talked about herself made his heart hurt. He wanted to yell and hit something, preferably her father, but he was dead. He reached for her then, unable to keep his distance any longer, but she shrank away from him.

  "Let me finish this."

  "All right.” He sat back, his arms aching to hold her, to comfort her. Yet, another part of him was proud of how she was laying this all out before him, not asking for any sympathy, or expecting it.

  "I was desperate when I went to the diner that day. My father had found out Burke had lots of money, but he didn't think Burke was good enough to marry into the James family. His blood wasn't blue enough.” Cyndi gave a bitter laugh. “I thought if I said I was pregnant, Burke might take me away. I wasn't thinking straight. I didn't really have any feelings for Burke at all, beyond what I hoped he could do for me. As for your sister...” Cyndi sighed and shook her head. �
�I had nothing against her. Didn't really know her except to see her. But she was standing in the way of what I thought I needed to escape."

  She broke off and went silent for a few long seconds. “I knew what would be waiting for me that day when I went home. But Burke hadn't touched me and was in love with your sister."

  His hands clenched into fists as he listened to her story unfold. “What happened?” His voice was hoarse, his throat tight.

  "By the time I came home, word had already reached him of what had happened. He dragged me into his study by my hair, threw me to the floor, and beat the hell out of me with his belt. I'd committed the biggest sin of all—shaming the family name in public."

  "Jesus.” Shamus reached for her, pulling her into his arms. This time, he didn't give her the option of refusing. He needed to hold her in his arms for his own comfort as much as hers.

  "When I came to, I dragged myself upstairs and packed a knapsack. I'd managed to save a hundred dollars over the years, a dime here, a quarter there. I knew my father had to leave on a business trip the next day. So the next morning, I snuck downstairs with my knapsack. I overheard some of the staff saying he'd had a visit from Burke before he'd left. I was terrified. I drove over to your sister's house and apologized to her, then I left my car parked in front of sheriff's office and took the bus out of town."

  "Where did you go?” He could feel her shaking in his arms and pulled the comforter tighter around her.

  "To my Aunt Verna. I barely knew her, but she was my mother's sister. I didn't have anywhere else to go. I called her from the bus station and she came and got me. She took me to the hospital right away and got pictures and records, filing several copies with various lawyers before my father showed up. She basically blackmailed my father in order to keep him away. If he stayed away from me, no one would ever know he was a monster."

  Shamus felt sick to his stomach. The man should have paid for what he'd done. He hadn't realized he'd said it aloud until she stiffened in his arms.

  "No. With his money and connections, he'd have gotten off. At that point, all I wanted was for him to stay away from me. Aunt Verna wasn't afraid of him.” Shamus could hear the awe and wonder in her voice. “Everyone else I'd ever met was cowed by my father, but not Verna Marks Mitchell. Even when he threatened her livelihood, she just laughed at him and told him she knew a hell of a lot more about him than he could imagine. It seems my mother had told her a few things over the years. Aunt Verna had copies of documents stashed all over the place with instructions to have them released if anything ever happened to her or to me."

  "Sounds like one hell of a lady.” Shamus smoothed Cyndi's hair back from her face, not liking the pallor of her skin.

  "She is.” A tiny smile played across her lips. “She got rid of him and helped me build a life. Aunt Verna runs her own B & B in Vermont and I started out working for her. I eventually went back to school and worked in various hotels for a few years. When I found out my father had died and left everything to me, I was shocked. At first, I wasn't even sure I was going to come back to Jamesville. I handled all the legal affairs by long distance. But Aunt Verna knew I had to come back in order to lay the ghosts of my past to rest. Eventually, I came to that realization myself.” Cyndi sighed, resting her head against his chest. “So here I am in Jamesville, determined to stay, no matter what. Now you know everything."

  No, he didn't know everything. No one would ever know the years of suffering that she'd lived through. He held her tight, rubbing his hand over her back, needing to just touch her, to reassure himself she was in his arms and she was safe. No one should have to live like that. The fact it was her own father that had abused her made it even worse.

  As he stroked her back, he noticed something he hadn't before. Now that he was no longer in the clutches of sexual desire and he knew Cyndi's story, what he was feeling took on new meaning. He shoved the comforter out of the way, exposing her back to his view. She stilled, but made no motion to cover herself.

  He swallowed hard as his finger traced several white scars. They were old, but they were there. A testament to the past she'd survived. There weren't many, but even one was enough to send sheer fury bolting through him. He actually shook, he was that angry.

  He was so lost in his haze of anger, it took him a moment to realize Cyndi had slipped her arms around his neck and was now murmuring words of comfort to him. Him. She was the one who'd lived through hell and she was comforting him. It wasn't to be borne.

  Burying his face in her neck, he inhaled her sweet scent. She smelled of flowers, maybe violets, he wasn't quite sure. Beneath it was the musky scent of desire. Shamus needed to touch her, to bury himself in her welcoming warmth, to celebrate the fact that she'd not only survived, but also found a way to thrive. “I need you.” Fancy words were beyond him. Lust, elemental and basic, coursed through his blood.

  He shifted them both so that Cyndi was flat on her back, staring up at him. She cupped his face in her hands and pulled him closer. Swooping down, he captured her lips. At the last second, he managed to get control of himself, softening the kiss. So many emotions were flooding through his mind, firing his blood. But for Cyndi he reached deep and grabbed onto gentleness as he began to stroke her skin.

  Slowly, he built the fire between them, sheathing himself in a condom before sliding into her silken depths. Taking his time, he rocked them to completion, his eyes never leaving hers as they both shuddered with need. The orgasm wasn't as physically explosive as the earlier one, but it rocked his soul.

  When it was over, he managed to find the strength to discard the condom and pull Cyndi into his arms. With her safe in his arms, they both slept.

  Still shaken from the revelations of the night before, Shamus strolled into Jessie's to meet his brother for breakfast the next morning. He'd awoken early, sliding out of bed to grab a quick shower before heading out. He hadn't wanted to leave Cyndi without talking to her, but knew she needed some time alone this morning.

  Her attempt to pretend she was still asleep hadn't fooled him, but he'd left her with a kiss on her forehead and a note on the bedside table. He'd see her later today.

  "Morning, Shannon.” He paused long enough to drop a kiss on his sister-in-law's cheek as he made his way to a booth in the corner.

  "Morning.” Shannon followed close behind him, coffee pot in hand. Not bothering to ask him, she filled his cup and handed it to him. “Hard night?"

  "You could say that.” He accepted the mug and took a sip. He knew he looked rough this morning. Sleep had eluded him, and he'd spent the entire night replaying Cyndi's words over and over, seeing the marks on her back, and filling in the blanks of everything she'd left unsaid.

  "What will it be this morning?"

  "Scrambled eggs, bacon, toast, and hash browns.” They'd never finished their dinner last night and he'd pretty much missed lunch yesterday, too. He was starving. “But I'm supposed to be meeting Patrick for breakfast."

  Shannon nodded. “He said to tell you he'd be along in a few minutes. He had to run by the station first."

  "Anything serious?” Since Patrick was the sheriff, one never knew what he was facing on any given day.

  Shannon smiled. “No. He said he wouldn't be long.” The bell over the door rang and she glanced over her shoulder. “Speak of the devil."

  Patrick strode over to his wife, nodding at several other men who were having breakfast. Pulling her into his arms, he planted a long, hot kiss on her lips. Someone whistled behind them, but Patrick finished kissing Shannon before glancing over his shoulder. “You're just jealous, Burt, because I got the finest woman in town."

  Burt Banner, a grizzled, old man of about eighty, just laughed. “You got that right, boy. She's not only purty, she can cook.” The old man paused. “She also has the coffee pot."

  Shannon's face turned a rosy red as she laughed. Quickly, she filled a mug for Patrick before hurrying off to pour Burt more coffee. Patrick watched his wife for a second before s
liding into the seat across from Shamus.

  "Dani asked where you were last night."

  Shamus sighed inwardly. He'd hoped his brother wouldn't be quite so confrontational this morning, but no such luck. “What did you tell her?"

  Patrick shrugged. “Just that you couldn't make it because you had other plans."

  Picking up his mug, Shamus took a sip. He wasn't in the mood for this. “Is there a point to this?” Usually he had all the patience in the world, but after last night, Shamus was feeling rather protective of Cyndi.

  Patrick cocked an eyebrow and sat back. Shamus resisted the urge to take a deep breath and roll his shoulders. He felt stiff and tired and not up to another confrontation with his brother. Still, he'd agreed to breakfast, so he'd stay. Extending his long legs, he forced himself to relax and sip his coffee.

  When Shannon came back to the table a few minutes later with his breakfast, she glanced from him to Patrick and back again, frowning. “Everything okay?"

  Shamus reached for his fork and knife. “Everything is just fine. This looks delicious."

  Patrick hadn't ordered, but Shannon placed a plate loaded with eggs and bacon in front of him. Shannon hesitated, but when neither man said anything else, she shrugged. “Just give me a holler if you need anything."

  "Will do.” He smiled to ease her concern. The last thing he wanted to do was upset Shannon. She was another woman who'd had more than enough strife in her life, and he didn't want to add to it.

  They ate in silence until both plates were clean. Shamus felt no urge to fill the void with meaningless conversation. The bell over the door chimed again and he glanced over, suddenly wishing he'd gone straight to work instead of coming here. Burke strode over to the table, looking as if he'd gotten up on the wrong side of the bed this morning.

  Shamus laid his fork and knife across his plate and pushed it aside. “Pull up a chair and join us."