"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 refrained 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 facade. 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."
Cyndi could tell the man wasn't quite sure what to do. Shamus's company probably did a lot of business with him. He didn't want to risk alienating a partner in B & O Construction, yet at the same time, he obviously didn't want her in his store.
"That's okay, Shamus.” She laid her hand on his arm, not surprised to feel the tension in his muscles. “We can go somewhere else.” She kept her voice low and calm.
"No, it's not okay.” He glanced at her, but returned his stare to the proprietor.
The older man was starting to sweat, beads of perspiration dotting his forehead. He glared at Cyndi before looking back at Shamus. “Stay if you want.” Turning, he stalked back to his front counter.
"Such a gracious welcome,” she murmured as she watched him retreat.
"Barton's not so bad. Not usually.” Shamus tucked her beneath his arm, his face stormy. “I'm sorry about that."
"Don't be. It's what I expected."
"It's not right.” She could tell that Shamus was truly upset by this. “Barton McGinty moved here after you left, but I know he had dealings with your father over at the bank."
"That explains a lot.” She sighed. “It's only going to get worse, you know.” She took a step away from him, ignoring his scowl. “If you want to get out, now is the time to walk away. He's watching and it would be a very public venue for us to have a fight and falling out. It would be all over town before the supper dishes were cleared away tonight."
His large hand clasped her shoulder and pulled her back beneath the shelter of his arm. “I'm not walking away. The sooner you get that through your head the better. It's just going to take people time to get used to seeing you in town again. Once people get to know you, they'll change. You're not your father, nor are you the same woman who left here fourteen years ago."
Sighing, she gave in. She was no match for Shamus and he seemed bound and determined to be with her. A part of her actually liked the fact that a man like Shamus not only wanted to be with her, but would also defy an entire town to do so. Another part of her knew that this would only stir a pot that was close to bubbling over.
"Let's look at paint chips.” The quicker they could pick out paint, the sooner they could get out of here.
It didn't take long for Cyndi to put the man watching them from the front counter mostly out of her mind. The array of paint chips held her attention. There were so many choices, but she quickly narrowed them down to certain color palettes.
The downstairs would be first, so she concentrated on finding colors for those rooms. The formal living room would go a pale lemon and the front parlor a robin's egg-blue. The library was also going in a shade of yellow, or perhaps green, to brighten up the dark area. In the dining area, she definitely wanted green, but she couldn't decide which shade. She was leaning toward a light sage color, but wasn't sure.
Shamus took the paint chips from her hand. “Why don't we get five or six samples of the yellow and green? That way we can do some test patches on the walls. Maybe you'll like some of the colors for the bedrooms upstairs."
"Good idea.” She hung back as Shamus strode to the counter and ordered their sample cans of paint.
Cyndi strolled off to check out a lighting display while Shamus dealt with Barton. She figured the man would be less hostile with her not around. Standing back, she peered up at the lights hanging from the ceiling. She wanted new light fixtures for some of the rooms, but she wasn't sure that the ones here were exactly what she was looking for.
She glanced over at the counter only to find Barton glaring at her. Her stomach sank, but she ignored the sickening feeling as she strode toward Shamus. “I'm going to wait outside."
"You sure?” Shamus’ eyes narrowed as he frowned.
"Yes. I could use the fresh air.” Plus, she could stand to be away from such open hostility.
"I won't be long.” She could tell he wanted to say something else, but left it at that. She was grateful. The last thing she wanted was an even bigger scene.
"Take your time.” Clutching her purse tight to her stomach, she left the store and stepped outside. The sky was overcast, but it wasn't too windy. Cyndi sucked in a breath of clean, cool air and let it out slowly.
"You've got some nerve coming back here."
Cyndi whirled around at the venom in the voice behind her. An older woman in about her mid-sixties was glaring at Cyndi, pure hate glowing from her eyes. She was dressed simply in a blue-checkered blouse and black pants. Her hair was twisted in a bun and her face was heavily lined. But it
was the despair in her eyes that struck Cyndi the most.
"Do I know you?"
"No. But I know you. I know all the trouble you caused years ago, striding around town like you owned the place. I know that your father foreclosed on the farm that had been in my family for five generations. The house is empty now, has been for six months."
"I'm sorry."
"You're sorry,” the older woman spat.
"I had nothing to do with you losing your farm.” She'd never had anything to do with her father's business dealings.
"You're a James. That's all that matters.” The woman's hands were fisted at her sides and she was shaking.
Cyndi knew then that she not only had her own reputation to live down in this town but her father's as well.
"From what I hear, you're already causing problems."
Cyndi had heard enough. “I'm sorry, but I need to go now."
The older woman smiled cruelly. “Not here a week yet and you've already causing trouble in a company that employs a lot of folks around here."
Totally bewildered, Cyndi stared at the older woman. “I have no idea what you're talking about.” Her stomach began to roil, and she knew that she didn't want to hear what this woman was going to tell her.
"My son was at Jessie's Diner this morning and overheard Shamus O'Rourke and his brother-in-law having words this morning. Seems that Burke Black don't want to do business with you, but young Shamus does. Now Shamus is on vacation. Vacation,” she spat. “Probably gone for good. Bet that makes you happy."
Cyndi thought she might be sick then and there. It was only sheer effort that kept her from losing the contents of her stomach. “You'll excuse me.” She turned quickly, leaving the woman standing in front of the hardware store. She could feel the other woman's eyes on her as she all but ran for the truck.
What had she done? Her presence here had caused more of a split between Shamus and his family than she thought. Now she knew what had been on his mind earlier. She'd thought it might be serious, but she'd had no idea just how much. Bypassing his truck, she decided to walk home. She had to make the break from Shamus now, before this got any worse. There was still time for him to mend the breach with his family.
The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke j-4 Page 16
