The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke j-4

by N. J. Walters

  Burke seemed momentarily taken aback by Shamus's good humor, but recovered quickly. “Don't mind if I do.” Taking a chair from nearby, he pulled it up to the end of the table and sat.

  Shannon came over long enough to refill their mugs and place a fresh one in front of Burke. She didn't say anything. The tension was palpable and Shamus was sick of it.

  "What's on your minds?” He'd had enough of this. He had things to do today.

  "Got somewhere important to be?” Burke leaned back in his chair.

  "Work. I'm taking this afternoon off and there's a lot I need to see to before lunch.” He was already making a mental list of everything he needed to tell his foreman.

  "Everything okay?” Burke leaned forward slightly. “You never take off work."

  "Yeah. I'm helping a friend with something.” He wanted to go over Cyndi's plans with her. With everything that had happened last night, they'd never had a chance to talk about the changes she wanted to make in the house.

  Burke's lips thinned and Patrick swore. “Damn it. You're spending the afternoon with her, aren't you?"

  His patience was hanging by a thread, but Shamus hung onto it. Barely. “Yes, I'm spending the afternoon with Cyndi. She wants to talk about some renovations on the house."

  "The mansion not good enough for her?” Burke's lip curled slightly.

  "Not for a B & B, it's not,” Shamus retorted. Immediately, he regretted his outburst. This was Cyndi's business and she might not want anyone to know what she was thinking about doing yet.

  "What does she know about the hotel business?” The skepticism was evident in Patrick's voice.

  Shamus had had enough. “What the hell do you know about her?” Planting his hand on the table, he leaned forward. “She's worked in the business for more than a decade, so she knows what she's doing."

  He started to slide out of his seat, but Burke's voice stopped him cold. “You don't really know anything about that woman."

  A knot grew in the pit of his stomach as he stared at his brother and brother-in-law. “No, you're the ones that don't know her at all. You knew who she was, and even then you have no idea of who she truly was and what her life was like."

  "She spinning you some sob story?"

  His head jerked around to his brother. “No, she's not. In fact, she's done nothing but warn me away."

  "She's not trying hard enough.” Burke tapped his fingers on the table. “I don't want B & O doing business with her."

  Shamus froze. Slowly, he turned to face his brother-in-law and business partner. “What did you say?"

  "You heard me,” Burke all but growled.

  "I run the construction end of the business. If I want to take this job, I'll take it."

  "I will not do business with that woman after what she did to Dani. I'm shocked you'd even consider it."

  Shamus flicked aside the guilt that Burke tried to heap on him. He didn't feel the least bit disloyal. If anything, he felt as if his family was betraying him, condemning him, and Cyndi, without a trial. “I will do this job if I want to."

  "You're just being stubborn,” Burke shot back.

  Maybe he was, but that didn't change how he felt. Shamus slowly pushed himself to his feet. “Well then, maybe I'll do it on my own time."

  "Shamus,” Patrick reached out to him, but Shamus shook off his brother's hand. He hated being at odds with his family, but he didn't know what to do about it. They'd all dug in their heels on this issue, and there didn't seem to be any way to resolve it at the moment.

  His eyes never left Burke as a deep calm settled over him. “If that's how you feel, I'll leave B & O out of it and do it on my own. I've got plenty of vacation time coming to me.” Reaching into his pocket, he hauled out his keys. He quickly removed the keys for the company truck and the houses they were currently working on, laying them on the table in front of Burke. “I suggest you talk to Joe Banks. He'll bring you up to speed on all the projects we have going at the moment. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm on vacation."

  Burke stared at Shamus. “Shamus,” he began, softening his tone. “Don't do this.” He scrubbed his hand over his face. “I don't want to see you hurt."

  "I'm a big boy, Burke. I can handle myself."

  "Can you?” He shook his head and sighed heavily. “Can't you see that she's driving a wedge between all of us?"

  "She doesn't need to. You're doing a fine job all on your own.” He turned away, heartsick at the turn of events.

  "She can't be trusted."

  Shamus shook his head, not bothering to face his brother-in-law. “It's not her you don't trust. It's me.” And that was what hurt him the most. He could feel the eyes of everyone in the diner on him as he strode to the counter. He dropped a ten-dollar bill on the counter in front of Shannon, ignoring the pleading look in her eyes as he turned and walked away.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cyndi listened to the sound of the front door closing before she rolled out of bed. It had been cowardly to pretend to be asleep, but she hadn't wanted to face Shamus. Not yet.

  She'd bared her soul to him last night. Told him things she'd never told to another soul, except her Aunt Verna, who'd guessed most of it anyway. She felt raw and exposed this morning and needed time to regroup before she talked to Shamus again. She'd almost lost her resolve when he'd bent down and kissed her before he left.

  Sighing, she grabbed the comforter, wrapping it around herself as she padded to the window. Tugging back the edge of the curtain, she peeked out and watched Shamus climb into his truck and drive away.

  Her body ached in unfamiliar ways because of last night's activities. A smile curved her lips upward. And what a night it had been. Shamus had woken her several times and he'd had no problem using all the condoms he'd brought with him.

  The smile disappeared as she turned away from the window and padded to the bathroom. She hoped Shamus knew what he was doing. Most folks in this town weren't going to think too highly of him for getting involved with her, his family included. The last thing she wanted to do was cause trouble for him, but there seemed to be no way to avoid it.

  She dropped the comforter and turned on water in the shower, adjusting the temperature before stepping under the hot spray. Raising her face, she let the water cascade over her, wiping the remnants of sleep away.

  There was also the undisputable fact that Shamus was nine years younger than she was. She chewed on her bottom lip as she picked up her sponge, squirted on some of her body wash and began to scrub. Shamus was young and virile. He'd want a family and those years were almost behind Cyndi. She and her ex had never had kids. It wasn't something she'd dwelled on over the years. It was just the way things had turned out.

  Swearing under her breath, she grabbed her shampoo, squeezed a dollop into her hands, and began working it into her hair. Her relationship with Shamus could be no more than a pleasant affair. There would come a time when he'd want a younger woman to start a family with. She couldn't fool herself about that. Stepping back under the spray, she rinsed the soap from her hair and body. When she was clean from head to foot, she flicked off the taps and stepped out of the shower, grabbing a fluffy, white towel.

  As she toweled off, she decided to enjoy the affair with Shamus for as long as it lasted. She glanced at the mirror and studied the woman reflected back at her. The fact of the matter was that she cared for Shamus more than she'd ever cared for any man. In a short time, he'd come to mean the world to her. She stopped short of saying she loved him—even though she was afraid that it was too late. She had to protect her heart somehow, because it was going to break when he finally left.

  Which could be sooner, rather than later, if his family had any say over it. Maybe she should end things.

  She shook her head as she tucked the towel around her and reached for her hair dryer. That hadn't worked out so well last night. She just couldn't lie to him and he was too stubborn to leave. So be it. They'd deal with the fallout of their relationship as it happened. Sh
e wasn't naive enough to think the fact that his truck had been parked in front of her house all last night wouldn't be all over town before supper. That was the way of small towns.

  Grabbing her brush, she made quick work of her hair. She didn't bother with makeup as she was going to be doing a lot of dirty work today. She had to finalize her plans for the house before Shamus got here. She planned on spending the afternoon up in the attic seeing what she might sell or salvage.

  Strolling back into her room, she slipped on a pair of panties and matching bra. Jeans, socks, and a purple T-shirt followed. She sat on the side of the bed and laced up her canvas sneakers. Shamus's scent wafted up from the sheets and she had to fight the urge to bury her face in the pillow that still bore the indentation where his head had rested last night.

  She had it bad.

  Turning away, she noticed the note propped up against the bedside lamp. Her stomach jumped as she snatched it up. Maybe Shamus had changed his mind after last night. Not that she would blame him. Maybe it was better to make a clean break now, rather than later.

  She opened the folded sheet and let out a sigh of relief. “See you later,” it read. He hadn't even signed it. Still, she folded it carefully as she rose from the bed. Going over to her dresser, she opened the drawer and tucked it carefully inside.

  "Right,” she said aloud as she shut the drawer. “You have work to do."

  Striding back to the bed, she stripped the sheets. Laundry was first on her list this morning. She could get a load started while she had breakfast. She really needed to contact her lawyer today to see what progress Alicia was making in wrestling control of the estate from the esteemed grip of Harris and Hammond. It was only a matter of time until it happened, but that didn't mean that Elijah Harris would make it easy on them.

  Cyndi glanced at her watch and sighed. It was too early to call her lawyer. She'd have to wait at least another hour. Determined, she grabbed one of the empty pillowcases from the bed and stuffed all her dirty laundry inside. A quick trip to the bathroom and she had the towels as well.

  Lugging it all down the stairs, she headed for the laundry room. What she needed was a hot cup of tea and some toast while she made lists of everything she needed to do today.

  "They're stalling. I've gotten several letters from them, questioning your competency with regards to handling the estate."

  "You what?” Cyndi couldn't believe what her lawyer was telling her. She switched the phone to her other ear and sat down heavily on one of the kitchen chairs.

  "Don't worry.” Alicia chuckled on the other end. “They're just playing hardball. They have no basis for their allegation. She paused. “Do they?"

  "Of course not.” Cyndi dragged her fingers through her hair and took a deep breath. “Although.” She so didn't want to dig up the past, but it seemed as if the firm of Harris and Hammond weren't giving her any choice.

  "Although what?” Alicia's voice was sharp. “Is there something you haven't told me?"

  "There's a lot I haven't told you. I didn't think it mattered now that my father was dead.” It seemed as if the past was determined to come to light no matter how much Cyndi wanted it kept buried. Still, she would not let her father or his cronies win. Not this time.

  "Tell me."

  "My father had a doctor lie about my mental competency when I finished high school. He used it to keep me from getting into college."

  There was dead silence on the other end of the line. “I always knew your father was a bastard."

  Cyndi laughed. She really liked her tart-tongued lawyer. “You don't know the half of it."

  "No, but I probably should."

  That pushed all thoughts of laughter aside. “If you feel you have to...” Cyndi really didn't want to rehash the past, not again.

  Alicia's voice was low and determined. “If Harris and Hammond know things I don't, it might make things more difficult."

  "When do you want to talk?"

  "What are you doing this morning?"

  Cyndi glanced around the kitchen. The dishes from last night's supper were waiting to be washed, the washer was chugging away in the next room, and she had a list a mile long on the table in front of her. “I'm working at home."

  "I'm coming out. It will be better if we talk there with no chance of interruption."

  Glancing at her watch, Cyndi decided that Alicia was right. She wasn't expecting Shamus for several hours yet. Plenty of time for her and her lawyer to talk. “Okay. I'll be here."

  "Cyndi.” Alicia's voice was warm and reassuring. “Whatever you tell me is confidential."

  "I know.” She rubbed her forehead, the beginning of a tension headache forming behind her eyes. “It's just not something I talk about."

  "I understand. I wouldn't ask if it wasn't necessary."

  There was no mistaking the other woman's sincerity. “I know, Alicia. I appreciate you taking the time to come out here. I'm not sure I could talk about it in your office."

  "I'll be there sometime in the next half hour."

  "I'll be waiting.” She turned off the phone and tossed it onto the table. Shoving her notes aside, she stood and began to clean the kitchen.

  The remains of the meal from the night before all went in the garbage, the dirty dishes in the sink. Cyndi washed and dried and cleaned and scrubbed. When that was done, she started a fresh pot of coffee before she headed to the laundry room. One load of clothing went into the dryer, before she loaded the washing machine again.

  Cyndi wandered back to the kitchen and picked up her lists, scanning them. Even though it didn't feel like it, she was making progress. Soon, her estate would be totally in her own hands, and she'd finally be able to begin to make changes.

  Over the past few days, she'd been digging through her father's files and was already making a list of items to take care of regarding those. She'd decided what changes she wanted made to the house, but would finalize those when Shamus had a chance to go over them and make recommendations. This was what he did for a living, so she'd be a fool if she didn't listen to his ideas. She was rather curious to find out his thoughts on the project. The antique dealer and the rare book dealer would be here tomorrow and they'd start the process of clearing out the house.

  The sheer amount of work she had to do was almost overwhelming, but she was no quitter. She'd get through it all one day at a time, one item at a time.

  And she'd left off the biggest obstacle on her list—Jamesville. She had yet to really go out around the town since her first day here. It was hard to admit it to herself, but she was afraid. Now that people here knew who she was, Cyndi hadn't worked up the nerve to face them. Yet. She would. She had to if she was ever going to make any kind of life here.

  "One thing at a time,” she muttered, laying a hand over her churning stomach. She'd thought her days of running on nerves alone were long over, but returning to Jamesville had brought it all back. “I won't live like that,” she promised. She'd moved beyond that part of her life. She was no victim and would not play the part again. She was strong and capable. “You can do this."

  The doorbell rang, startling her. “Get a grip, Cyndi.” She laid her lists aside and strode to the door. Pasting a smile on her face, she opened it. Alicia Flint stood on the front step looking smart in a pants suit, tailored much like a man's. A bright red blouse peeked out from between the lapels of the gray pinstripe jacket.

  "Can I come in?” Alicia stepped forward, her leather briefcase clutched in her left hand.

  Feeling foolish for just standing there, she held the door wide open. “Of course.” Cyndi stepped aside and Alicia strode in.

  "Where would you like to talk?"

  Cyndi closed the door and led the way down the hall. “In the kitchen. I just brewed a pot of coffee if you'd like some."

  "Would I?” Alicia gave a low, throaty laugh. “I've only had one this morning and it's definitely time for more.” They entered the kitchen and the other woman glanced around. “Nice."

&nbs
p; "Thanks, but I can't take credit for it.” She motioned to the table, fussing with the coffee and mugs to try to divert her attention from what was coming.

  Alicia laid her briefcase on the table and opened it, drawing out a legal pad and a pen. She unbuttoned her jacket, peeled it off, and draped it over one of the other chairs. “I have a feeling this might take a while."

  Cyndi picked up the mugs and headed over to the table. Cream and sugar were there already, so there was nothing left for her to do but sit. “You have no idea.” Memories were bombarding her. Maybe it was because she'd shared her past with Shamus last night. Maybe it was being in this house, in this town. But memories she'd thought were buried and forgotten for forever were now as raw as the day they occurred.

  Alicia pulled her chair closer and picked up her mug, taking a sip. “Mmm, good coffee."

  Sitting there, Cyndi tried to decide where to begin. Alicia waited patiently as the minutes ticked by. Opening her mouth, she allowed the story to spill out. “It really started after my mother died."

  Almost an hour later, Cyndi finally stopped. Her coffee mug was empty and she was hoarse from talking so much. Her eyes burned from holding back tears of anger and grief. She felt as if she'd been dragged through the wringer. Curiously, she felt lighter, as if at least some of the weight of the past had fallen away. Maybe telling Shamus and Alicia had lessened the grip of the memories on her.

  She'd been staring at the table the entire time and finally raised her gaze to meet Alicia's. She had no idea what the other woman was thinking. Cyndi had been lost in the memories and Alicia hadn't interrupted her.

  Alicia stared back, her eyes slightly red and luminous. “You can prove this?"

  Cyndi shrugged. “Not all, but I do have the reports from when I arrived in Vermont. Can I prove it was my father who beat me? No. It's my word against his. But I do have scars. There are also the letters to the colleges declaring me mentally incompetent, signed by a doctor who never ever saw me.” She hesitated, but then plunged forward. If she was going to do this, she was going all the way. “If need be, we might contact some of the former staff. They might love a chance to get back at my father and Harris and Hammond."