The Seduction of Shamus O'Rourke

Chapter Twenty-One

Cyndi sat through yet another interview with the sheriff's deputies. There were no more clues this time than there had been with the shooting or the tire-slashing incident. The sheriff promised to talk to the staff at the post office, but she knew it wouldn't do any good. The postmark was local, but it could have been dropped into any mailbox around town. There was no way of knowing where it originated.

There was still the possibility of fingerprints, but that too wasn't likely. Several people at the post office, as well as she and Shamus had handled the envelope. If there were any prints, they'd probably be smudged. Still, it was a slim lead.

Shamus ushered the deputies out when they were done. They'd actually come across another envelope in the pile of mail. It seems the person had sent two. Cyndi just hadn't been picking up her mail regularly. There was a bigger chance of finding a useful fingerprint on that letter, but she didn't hold out much hope. If it was the same person making the threats, they'd been smart up to now.

She heard male voices in the background, but ignored them. Her mind was whirling with the fact that someone truly wanted to hurt her. The shooting incident had been scary, but somehow the letters were more personal. She shivered, rubbing her hands up and down her arms. Having all that venom and anger directed at her was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Hey.” Shamus reached down and took her hands in his. Warmth. Shamus was always so warm.

She didn't know what to say to him, so she said nothing. What did you say to a man at a time like this? Sorry to involve you? There was no way to apologize for what their association had put him through. His life had been running along quite smoothly before he'd met her.

"Whatever you're thinking, stop it.” He pulled her out of the chair and into his arms. “I know you think this is your fault, but it's not.” His voice was a deep rumble as she rested her face against his solid chest. “If you want to leave, do it for yourself, not because you think it will make my life better. But I can assure you that not having you here certainly won't improve the quality of my life."

"How can you say that?” Although she wanted to do nothing more than burrow into his warmth, she forced herself to push away from him and stand on her own two feet.

"Because it's true."

She crossed her arms over her chest and arched an eyebrow at him.

He sighed and raked his fingers through his hair, dislodging the tie that held it back. His long hair fell around his face and he cursed and shoved it aside. “Look, my life was fine before I met you. I had a great job I loved, good friends and family, and dated whenever I wanted. I had my own home and truck and a place in the community."

It made her stomach tighten to listen to him, especially the part about dating when he wanted. Probably with younger, prettier women, who didn't come with two tons of emotional baggage and a crazed stalker. “That's my point,” she whispered.

He shook his head and took a step toward her. They were standing toe-to-toe now, his work boots touching her sneakers, his face mere inches from hers. “It was great, but there was a void in my life that's been getting bigger the past few months. I had no one special in my life to share it with."

"I'm sure any of the many women you dated would be glad to fill that void for you,” she almost snarled. The thought of him with another woman made her want to do violence.

Shamus lowered his head until their foreheads were touching. “None of them sparked any interest inside me. Not until I met you.” He nuzzled her temple and brushed a kiss against her cheek. “There was something about you from the moment I saw you. I knew you were special and I knew you were meant for me."

"How can you be so sure?” She desperately wanted to believe his words. She'd felt the same way about him. It was as if they'd already known one another, the connection was so immediate and so deep. It was almost frightening how fast she'd fallen for Shamus.

"I know myself.” His lips hovered over hers, not quite touching. She could feel the warmth of his breath on her mouth. “I've always known that there was one special woman for me and that I'd know her the moment I laid eyes on her. It was like that with my parents."

"Really?"

"Yup. My mom used to tell me the story of how she and dad met.” Shamus kissed her bottom lip, tugging gently on it with his teeth. She gasped, her lips parting. “My mom was working at the old general store when he stopped in to buy some cigarettes. He was a trucker and on a whim pulled into this store on the edge of town. One look, she said, was all it took.” Shamus's large hands rubbed up and down her back, urging her closer.

"Then what happened?” Her voice was low, almost breathless as Shamus traced his tongue over her top lip.

"Hmmm...my father started stopping at the store every time he passed through town. One time when he came through, he had an engagement ring. They got married, settled down and had a family. My mom cried the day they tore down the old general store."

Her eyes welled with tears. “That's so beautiful and yet so sad."

"It is,” he agreed. “Yet, they had almost seventeen years together before he died. I asked my mom once, before she died, if she regretted marrying my dad. That if she'd known he would die so young, would she still have done it."

"What did she say?” Cyndi knew Shamus was sharing something very special with her, sharing part of himself. In spite of her resolve to gain some distance, she slid her hands up his chest, wrapping them around his neck.

"She was appalled that I'd even say such a thing. She told me every day together was a gift. That no one knew what the future held and all you could do was take one day at a time. If two people loved one another, then that was enough. That was everything.” His eyes darkened to a stormy gray as he stared at her. “She was right. Any time I get with you is a gift, no matter what happens."

"Oh, Shamus.” Her fingers tightened around his neck, tangling in his hair. This man meant everything to her. He filled up an empty spot inside her that she hadn't even realized was there. So she told him so.

"I don't know how it happened, but you're incredibly important to me. I don't know what the future will bring. Someone is trying very hard to drive me away and, to be honest, they're getting close to succeeding. I'm scared.” His arms tightened around her. “But I'm no coward, not anymore, and no bully is going to drive me away."

"I'm selfish,” he whispered into her ear. “I want you to stay with me, but I don't want you to get hurt. If Patrick thinks you should leave, then I'm going to put you in your car myself. Nothing is worth your safety. If I have to pack up and move to Vermont, I will."

Cyndi was dumbstruck. “You'd do that?"

Shamus shook his head. “Of course I would. What do you think I've been trying to tell you here? I love you."

She blinked, not quite sure she'd heard him correctly.

"This is the part where you say you love me too,” he prompted. She could hear the wry tone in his voice, but beneath it, she could hear the yearning.

"I do love you.” She pulled his face down to hers. “More than I ever thought possible to love anyone.” She pressed her lips against his and sighed. All the problems of the world disappeared when it was just the two of them together like this. Something that felt this good and right couldn't be wrong.

Shamus cupped her face with his large hands, tilting it to one side so he could deepen the kiss. She sighed, parting her lips and he slipped his tongue inside, coaxing hers to play with him.

The man certainly could kiss. She tried not to think of all the younger women he'd practiced with over the years. He was here with her now and that was all that mattered. Her fingers tangled in his hair, yanking him closer, holding him to her.

When they broke away, they were both breathless. They stared at one another and Cyndi could feel the emotional bond between them—the love. They leaned toward one another, their lips almost touching when the doorbell rang. Cyndi pulled back so fast, she struck Shamus's nose.

He swore and glared toward the hallway as the bell rang again. It was then that she realized that the door to the office was wide open and there were still workmen in the house.

As if realizing the trail of her thoughts, he reassured her. “I've got them priming the walls in the library."

Cyndi sighed with relief. That was something. The doorbell rang again and she hurried toward the front door with Shamus right behind her. She glanced over her shoulder as he swore again and almost smiled as he tried to adjust the front of his jeans. The bulge there was making the job difficult. He saw her grinning and shook his head. “It's not nice to make fun of my pain, woman."

"I'll kiss it and make it better later,” she promised.

Shamus sucked in a breath. “You're not helping the problem, Cyndi."

As she reached the door, he locked his arm around her waist and drew her away. “I'll answer it."

The sober reminder that someone wanted to harm her made her smile disappear. She nodded, standing to one side as Shamus peered out the side window before opening the door.

"Linda Fletcher sent me for the rest of the furniture,” the male voice announced. “She said to give you this.” He handed over a small envelope.

Shamus opened the envelope and read the note before handing it to Cyndi. The stationary was from the auction house and he recognized Linda's signature on the bottom. He'd seen it when she and Cyndi had been signing all the necessary papers to allow the furniture and goods to go to auction.

Once he was certain that everything was legit, he opened the door wide and invited the man in. He introduced himself to Cyndi, handing her a list of the furniture that she and Linda had agreed upon, so that she could check each one off as it was loaded on board. As he returned to the truck to open the back and pull down the ramp, Shamus rounded up the men from the library.

The next few hours were controlled chaos as the house was emptied of the rest of the furniture and boxes. Pete Johnson and his nephews called it a day as soon as the truck pulled away, promising to be back bright and early in the morning.

Cyndi was exhausted and exhilarated. It felt good for her plans to be proceeding so quickly, yet it was marred by the fact that someone wanted her gone and was willing to do just about anything to get her to leave.

As tired as she was, she made a quick call to her lawyer. It was time to get an update on what was going on with wresting control of her affairs from Harris and Hammond. She also needed to find out what Alicia had been able to uncover about her father's illegal business dealings.

It was all progressing, but it would take time. Harris and Hammond were procrastinating and trying to find a way to stop her, but Alicia assured her that they didn't have a legal leg to stand on. All they could do was try to pressure Cyndi into staying with their firm. If she held her ground, they'd have no choice but to hand everything over to Alicia's office.

Of course, they'd take their dead time, but that was where Alicia came in. The other woman was quite confident she could handle Harris and Hammond, and indeed, seemed to be relishing the opportunity. Cyndi shook her head, not understanding how someone could be looking forward to such a battle, as Alicia obviously was. She was just glad she'd hired the woman to be on her side in this conflict.

The next thing that Cyndi did was contact the mayor's office, and scheduled a meeting for the following morning. Yes, she had the paperwork giving her the right to have a B & B in this building, but she wanted to make it official.

Thankfully, she didn't need to worry about permits for the renovation. Shamus had informed her earlier that he'd already taken care of it. In fact, he'd taken the time to stick them in the window earlier. She hadn't noticed them because of the heavy curtains.

With nothing left to be done, Cyndi wandered to the kitchen, her feet echoing on the floor. Each room she passed was empty or nearly so. The library had eight boxes of books she'd decided to keep, and the dining room had painting and building supplies stacked at one end.

Shamus was standing at the stove, a towel tucked around his waist as he stirred a pot. “Hungry?” He didn't even glance over his shoulder.

Her nose carried her toward him. The smell of tomato sauce and spices was heavenly. Her stomach growled in agreement.

He laughed when he heard the sound. “I'll take that as a yes."

"I thought I wasn't hungry, but obviously I am. Is there anything I can do to help?” While she'd been busy on the phone, he'd been busy in the kitchen. Thick tomato sauce, bubbled on the stovetop and water boiled in a large pot, cooking pasta. And if her nose wasn't mistaken, there was garlic bread in the oven.

"You can pour us each a glass of wine.” He motioned to the table with the wooden spoon. “I opened the bottle a minute ago."

Cyndi poured wine and decided to take Shamus's lead on the tone of the evening. They needed to forget their troubles for a short while, relax and enjoy a quiet meal together. It wouldn't make their problems disappear, but it would help them relax and gain their strength for the next battle.

Picking up the two glasses, she walked back to stand beside him, offering him one. He took it and sipped, then lay the glass on the counter. Grabbing a clean spoon from the drawer, he dipped it into the pot. “Taste."

Cyndi blew on it and tasted the sauce from the spoon. Spices exploded on her tongue. “Oh, this is good."

"I wasn't sure if you'd like it spicy or not, so I went somewhere in the middle."

"This is absolutely perfect."

As she leaned against the counter and watched him, she was once again amazed by him. Her father sure as heck couldn't cook and neither could her ex-husband. Shamus seemed to be at home in any venue. “I didn't know you could cook."

He deftly drained the pasta, drizzling it with olive oil before piling it on to the two plates he had waiting. “My sister made sure that both Patrick and I were capable of taking care of ourselves in the kitchen. Besides, I like to eat. I figured I'd better learn how to cook."

The thick tomato sauce was added and then a sprinkle of Parmesan cheese. He carried both plates over to the table and went back to the oven to pull out a foil wrapped loaf of bread, which he carried to the table and unwrapped.

Cyndi slid into her chair. “It all smells incredible. Thank you for this."

"My pleasure.” He sat down next to her, took her hand in his, and kissed her knuckles. “After dinner, it's a hot bath for you and then bed. You've had a long, hard day."

Pushing the nasty memories of the day out of her head, she smiled at him. “Only if you join me in bed."

He gave her a roguish grin before nipping at her fingers. “What about your bath?"

Her stomach jumped, and heat pooled low in her belly. “That would be good too."

Shamus laughed and picked up his fork, twirling the spaghetti easily on the tines before popping it into his mouth. Cyndi watched him chew and swallow, feeling her nipples tighten as he licked sauce from his lips.

"Aren't you eating?” he asked innocently.

She could feel the heat on her cheeks. Grabbing her fork, she jabbed it at her plate. The first mouthful was so good it made her forget everything else. Well, almost everything else.

They enjoyed their meal, keeping the conversation on renovation plans. Cyndi planned to pick out fabric tomorrow and place her order by the day after at the latest. Which led her to her next problem. “Do you know of anyone who sews around here? A professional seamstress?"

She wasn't surprised when Shamus nodded. The man knew everyone. “Rebecca Tanner used to sew. I'm not sure if she does it any more, but I think her daughter, Casey, might sew as well. She'd just a teenager, but she's mature for her age."

"If you give me the number, I'll call her tomorrow."

"No problem."

Cyndi hoped it wouldn't be a problem. It would be a hassle if she had to go out of town to get the drapes made, but she would if she had to. Hopefully, either Rebecca or her daughter wouldn't mind working for her.

Some of the upholstery, she could do herself, but a few pieces might need a professional. “What about upholstery?"

"If it's not too complicated, I should be able to handle it for you.” He bit off a chunk of garlic bread and chewed.

"Is there anything you can't do?"

He shot her a leering grin. “Nothing worth talking about."

Cyndi laughed and finished eating. Replete, she sat back and watched him polish off the rest of the bread. When he was done, they cleaned up the kitchen and headed upstairs, turning off all the lights as they went.

His hand was firm on her back as they walked up the stairs and into her room. “I'll start the bath.” He nuzzled her neck, nipping lightly at it before heading into the adjoining bathroom.

Cyndi watched him go. The man had the best ass on the planet. The way it filled out a pair of jeans was probably illegal in several states. Of course, it looked even better out of a pair of jeans.

Heat suffused her body as she stripped off her clothing and wandered into the bathroom. She intended to forget all about her problems tonight. The only thing that mattered at this moment was her and Shamus.