"Not just any cheesecake,” he informed her, waggling his eyebrows at her. “Tunnel of fudge cheesecake."

Two generous pieces of the cheesecake were nestled inside the box and when she looked closer, she could indeed see the rich, chocolaty filling wrapped within the vanilla layer. Going up on her toes, she kissed his cheek. “Thank you."

His hands came around her to rest on her bottom, squeezing gently. “You're welcome.” He gave her behind a final pat before releasing her. “Food first."

"Food. Right.” Flustered, she laid the decadent cheesecake aside and took up supper, filling their plates with baked chicken, potatoes, carrots, and corn. She'd made two individual garden salads earlier and pulled them out of the refrigerator.

Instead of sitting at the counter, Cyndi had set the table in the cozy breakfast nook adjacent to the kitchen. A large, picture window framed the backyard and made an inviting place to eat. There was no way she'd eat in the formal dining room.

Shamus picked up the two plates and carried them over to the table. She followed with the salads and then returned to get their drinks. She'd filled the coffee maker earlier and flicked it on as she passed so it could brew while they ate.

Instead of sitting down and digging into his supper, Shamus was standing by the table, waiting for her. Pleasure filled her as he seated her first. “I hope you like it.” They'd shared lunch before, but this felt different, more intimate somehow.

"It looks and smells great. Thanks for cooking for me.” Picking up his fork and knife, he cut a piece of the chicken and popped it into his mouth. As he chewed, he laid his utensils aside, and added dressing to his salad. Cutting his potato, he added a generous dollop of the sour cream she'd set out. She watched the strong column of his neck move as he swallowed. “You not eating?"

Cyndi started and ducked her head, embarrassed to be caught staring at him. Grabbing the French dressing, she drizzled some over her salad and began to eat.

The atmosphere relaxed as they ate in silence. They were about halfway through their meal when Shamus finally spoke. “So, what did you do this afternoon? Make any more plans?"

She glanced up, wondering if he was humoring her, but saw only genuine interest. “I called the auction house, and they're sending someone out on Saturday to look at the furniture. I also contacted a rare book dealer to help clear out the library. It'll probably take a couple of days for them to go through everything, so both of them will be staying overnight."

Shamus scooped up a forkful of potato, chewed and swallowed before commenting. “You sure you want to do that? Some of this stuff has been in your family for forever."

"Yes.” She nodded emphatically. “I'm sure. I won't get rid of everything, but probably about seventy-five percent of what's here. I know there is a ton of stuff in the attic too. I need to get up there tomorrow and have a look."

"I can take off the afternoon tomorrow and help you.” He picked up his glass and drank down half of the iced tea in one gulp.

Cyndi laid her fork aside. “I can't let you do that. That's too much trouble.” Part of her would love to have the company while digging through the past, but she didn't want to interfere with his work.

"It's no trouble.” He plunked the glass back on the table, reached across and took her hand. “I want to."

"But what about your work?"

Shamus laughed. “I work ten hours or more a day, Cyndi, and rarely take time off. I haven't had a vacation in over two years. If I want to take an afternoon off, no one can complain. Besides, what good is it being the boss if you can't take a half day off when you want to?"

She really didn't want to say it, but felt she had to ask. “What about Burke? What will he say?"

Shamus's smile disappeared. “It's none of his damn business what I do on my personal time."

"But he's your partner.” She chewed on her bottom lip as worry threatened to consume her.

"Exactly. He's my partner, not my father, or my keeper.” He squeezed her fingers. “Stop worrying, Cyndi. I'm not doing anything I don't want to."

"I just don't want to cause any problems, and I know that your being here with me is causing them.” A telltale flicker in his eye alerted her and her stomach clenched. “What happened this afternoon?"

Shamus dropped her hand, sat back, and rubbed his hands over his face. Again, she was reminded of how tired he'd looked when he first arrived. “It was nothing."

Cyndi got up abruptly from the table. “If it's nothing, then you shouldn't mind telling me.” Grabbing her plate, she stalked to the counter.

"Cyndi,” he began.

"No.” She cut him off as she stalked back to the table and began to clear the remains of their meal. “I'm causing problems for you.” She stomped back to the counter and dumped the dishes onto it. The anger seeped out of her as quickly as it had arrived. Grabbing the edge of the counter for support, she spoke the words that she knew needed to be said. “You need to leave."

The legs of his chair scraped back, but instead of leaving, she heard his footsteps getting closer to her. She gripped the edge of the marble to keep from turning toward him.

"Cyndi."

She shook her head.

His sigh ruffled her hair as he leaned down, placing his hands on either side of hers, boxing her in. “Patrick came to apologize for his behavior the other night."

"I don't understand.” She wanted to face Shamus, but resisted. If she saw him, her resolve would probably crumble.

"He wasn't as concerned about you as he should have been and he knows it."

Now she was totally confused. “I still don't understand. He came and investigated. Without a suspect, I know there's not much he can do."

"I'm not talking about that. I know he did his job.” Shamus brushed his lips over the back of her neck. “But his first concern should have been getting you to a hospital, not taking your statement."

"But I wasn't seriously hurt.” The bandage was gone from her hand and the scar was beginning to fade. All her other cuts had been superficial and were already healed.

"Doesn't matter.” Before she could protest or question him further, he continued. “Anyway, then he asked me to supper. I told him I had plans. He warned me away from you again, and I told him to mind his own business."

Cyndi's stomach lurched. She'd known this was going to happen. She'd warned him repeatedly that his family wouldn't approve. “I knew our being together would cause problems. We need to stop seeing each other, Shamus."

"No,” he whispered as he nibbled on the sensitive shell of her ear. “I want to be with you, Cyndi. You're a very special lady."

She'd waited her whole life for someone to make her feel the way Shamus did, but she knew being with her was going to ruin his life. Releasing her death grip on the counter, she turned. Shamus didn't give an inch, so she was practically plastered against him. She had to tilt her head back to see his face. “You have to leave and not come back."

"Tell me that you don't want me."

Cyndi swallowed hard and looked down at his chest. “I don't want you.” It was a wonder she didn't choke on the lie.

His finger hooked under her chin and he tipped it up until she was looking at him. “Now tell me."

She opened her mouth to do just that, but the words wouldn't come out. His rough-hewn face was serious, his blue-gray eyes sad. “I...I can't.” She felt defeated. She couldn't even lie to him to protect him. Not when he looked so sad.

He lowered his forehead until it was touching hers. “I'm glad."

"Shamus,” she began.

"No.” He placed a finger over her lips. “Give my family some time. They're good people. They'll come around. But tonight the rest of the world doesn't exist. Tonight there's only us."

He lowered his finger and replaced it with his lips. Cyndi sighed, knowing she should protest, but knowing she wouldn't. She wanted Shamus in a way she'd never wanted any other man. He made her feel special and important. He didn't care about her money or her family's power in the community. He was one of the few people in town who wanted to know the real her, who did know the real her.

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."