Their lips parted and he reached across the counter and turned off the coffee pot. “We'll finish our meal later, but first I want dessert.” He placed one arm behind her back and the other under her knees and scooped her into his arms.
Cyndi looped her arms around his neck, burying her face against his chest. He walked steadily through the hallway and up the stairs. She could hear his heart beating heavily against her cheek. Her entire body was alive with anticipation of what was to come. This time there would be no stopping.
His boots were heavy as he started down the upstairs hallway. He turned left and paused too soon. She raised her head. “No, don't.” But before she finished uttering the words, he'd managed to grab the knob and open the door.
"What the hell?” Cyndi tried to squirm out of his arms, but he tightened them around her. “What is this room?"
Sighing, Cyndi gave up trying to make him release her, but she didn't look into the room. She wasn't ready. Not yet. “This was my room."
"Why does it look as if a tornado went off inside?"
She plucked at one of the buttons of his blue shirt, knowing she'd have to answer. In the short time she'd known Shamus, she'd learned he was stubborn and determined, plus he had patience in spades. The man would stand here all night if that was what it took to get answers.
"This is how I left it when I fled Jamesville fourteen years ago. Apparently, my father simply closed the door and never opened it again. I found it this way when I returned."
"I don't understand.” She could feel him staring at her, but she couldn't deal with this, not now.
"I don't want to talk about this.” She could be stubborn too and she refused to look at him or the room.
She felt Shamus shift her slightly in his arms as he reached out and closed the door. “All right."
"My room is the last guest room on the left.” Apprehension seeped from her bones, replaced by a different kind of tension, one much more pleasurable. She and Shamus were going to make love for the first time.
"We can talk later."
Chapter Ten
Cyndi jerked in his arms as he spoke, but thankfully said nothing. Shamus was still trying to sort out what he'd just seen. The stark white bedroom with the splashes of red definitely didn't suit the vibrant, warm woman in his arms. Neither did the piles of fashionable clothing, about fourteen years out of date, or the mound of jewelry dumped like so much garbage onto the floor.
He'd felt several things from her—tension, anger, and fear. It was the latter that prompted him to shut the door and leave the subject for now. He'd get to the bottom of this mystery later. Right now, he had a warm, willing woman in his arms and she belonged to him.
The erection that had been held at bay for most of the afternoon was now back with a vengeance. Everything else could wait. Right now, he needed to make love with Cyndi.
The room he carried her into was done in beige and browns, except for the splash of purple on the bed. As he released her legs and let her slide down his body, he noted the comforter had flowers and butterflies on it. He knew this was Cyndi's doing. The rest of the room had a bland feel. This was the only note of color in the place.
Cyndi put her hand on his chest and pushed. He took a step back, but refused to go any further. She looked around the room and smiled ruefully. “It's not much to look at, is it?"
"The view is fine from where I'm standing.” His voice was rough with need. This woman was a fire in his blood, and he didn't think that was going to diminish no matter how many times he had her.
A flush of pink tinged her cheeks, and he realized she was blushing. “Shamus,” she began and suddenly stopped. She looked uncomfortable as she brushed a strand of hair away from her face.
He cupped her shoulders in his hands, kneading them before sliding his fingers up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “What is it?” He wasn't sure what he'd do if she said she'd changed her mind. Hell, yeah he knew what he'd do. He'd try his best at seducing her. But if she was adamant, he'd stop and they'd go back down stairs and finish supper. Tension thrummed throughout his entire body as he waited.
"I'm...” She swallowed hard. “I'm not as young as I used to be.” She motioned to her body with her hand. “Damn, this is so stupid, especially after what happened at lunch. It's not as if you haven't already seen everything.” She shoved away from him and took three paces toward the window before whirling around to face him. “I'm not twenty any more, or even thirty for that matter. I'm starting to get wrinkles for heaven's sake and you...” She stomped back toward him.
Shamus was fascinated by the play of emotion that flitted across her face—anger, fear, but most of all, a deep need that made his heart began to pound and his erection start throbbing. “I'm what?” He could barely get the words out. His hands fisted at his sides, his body primed for action.
"You're young and gorgeous and sexy."
He couldn't help it. A big grin split his face. “All that?"
"It's not funny."
"Sure it is.” He reached for her, but she pulled away. “I'm thirty and my features are rough at best. I'm in decent shape because of my work. You, on the other hand, are beautiful."
This time when he reached for her, she didn't jerk away. He wrapped his fingers around her wrist and tugged her toward him. “Your skin is fine and smooth.” He touched her face gently, rubbing his thumb over her cheek. “I love your lips. The bottom one is fuller than the top, just begging a man to kiss it.” Leaning down, he nipped at her lower lip. She moaned and her tongue came out to touch his mouth.
He had to fight his instinct to deepen the kiss. What he had to say to Cyndi was more important at the moment. They'd get to the kissing and the rest of it soon enough. “You have the most expressive, blue eyes.” He traced her eyebrows with his fingers as the blue of her eyes deepened with desire. “I can read everything you're thinking in your eyes."
"You can?” She seemed surprised and pleased.
"Yeah. I can.” He threaded his fingers through her hair. “I love the way your hair isn't fussy. It suits you."
Cyndi laughed. “It's easier to take care of."
"Low maintenance.” He nodded solemnly, wanting her to know he was referring to more than her hair.
She shrugged, but he ignored it and continued. “And your body.” He stopped and allowed his hands to slowly glide down her neck and shoulders. “Your body is ripe and womanly. You have curves that a man can sink his hands into.” His hands skimmed her torso, brushing the sides of her breasts before continuing downward. He followed the indentation of her waist and the flare of her hips. “You, Cyndi Marks, are one sexy lady, and I'm glad that you're letting a rough guy like me into your life."
"Oh, Shamus.” She practically threw herself into his arms and he caught her close. “If you're sure."
"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."
He felt her arms tighten around his waist before they loosened and she stepped away. Her hands went to the buttons of her blouse and as he watched, she unfastened them one by one, exposing more and more of her creamy skin. When she was done, she slid the garment from her body, leaving her upper body clad only in a pale pink bra.
He reached out and traced the lacy edge with his fingers. His skin was rougher and darker than hers, the contrast arousing his protective instincts as well as his lust. He, who was usually laidback and mellow, now felt the overwhelming need to claim this woman, to mark her somehow as his, even as he protected her from the world. If she had any idea of the primitive thoughts flooding his brain, she'd boot his ass to the door.