"Whose idea was it to put white carpet on the floor?"

"Not mine.” Cyndi hauled open the closet doors. Designer clothing filled it from one end to another. “I should have the antiques dealer look at some of these. They might qualify as vintage. Most of it is designer stuff. She might know a resale store that would take them on consignment."

"You don't want to keep any of it?” His deep voice penetrated her thoughts.

"No.” She shivered. “I never picked any of it out anyway. I was always told what to buy, what to wear."

Shamus tucked her beneath his arm. “You're cold. Why don't we get you a sweater and something warm to drink before we check out the attic?"

Tilting her head back, she looked at Shamus. She could see the concern in his eyes, but it was tinged with sadness. Tentatively, she broached the subject that had been on her mind all afternoon. “What's wrong? You've been upset since you got here."

Turning her in his embrace, he herded her toward the door. “I don't want to talk about it."

"Okay.” Ouch! That certainly put her in her place. She glanced away, trying to hide her hurt, but he saw it anyway.

"I don't mean to hurt you.” His hand tightened around her waist before falling back by his side. “I'm not shutting you out.” He closed the bedroom door behind them, locking the memories inside. “I need to think some things through, but for this afternoon, I don't want to think about my problems. I just want to enjoy being with you."

"Fair enough.” She knew his problems probably had something to do with her, but there was nothing she could do to help until he talked to her. And he obviously wasn't ready to do that yet. “How about I grab a sweater and we go up to the attic and have a quick look around? When we have an idea what's there, we'll go downstairs and I'll make us some coffee or hot chocolate."

"You sure?” Concern was etched on his face. Her heart turned over as he rubbed his hands over her arms to warm them. She soaked up all the loving care and kindness that he dispensed so easily. For a woman who'd never gotten that kind of attention from a man before, it was heady stuff.

"I'm sure.” She patted his arm to try to reassure him. “Let me grab a sweater.” She hurried into her room and grabbed a warm, beige cardigan, tugging it on over her T-shirt while Shamus waited patiently outside her door.

"Which way to the attic?"

"Follow me.” She led him to the large storage closet at the end of the hallway and tugged open the door. Reaching out, she flicked on the light switch, bathing the room in a dim light. The closet was actually the actually the size of a small room, and immediately to the right of the door a set of stairs went upward.

"Clever.” Shamus was obviously impressed as he followed her up the stairs.

"Convenient too.” Cyndi hadn't been up here in years. Not since she was a kid. When the lights worked, she gave thanks to the diligence of the staff that had worked here.

"Wow.” She could hear the awe in Shamus’ voice. It echoed her own thoughts.

"I always thought this place was magical when I was a kid.” The room was dusty and smelled stale, but not musty. Stuff was piled high, filling practically every square inch. “My family didn't believe in throwing things out.” She moved forward, lifting a dust cover and peering beneath. “Oh, look at this."

Shamus grabbed the other end of the cloth tarp and lifted, revealing the frame of a large sleigh bed and matching dresser. “The workmanship is amazing.” He ran his hand over the wood grain.

Cyndi shivered, but this time it wasn't because of the cold. Watching Shamus stroke the wood reminded her of how he'd touched her last night. “I want this for my room."

"I don't blame you. It's a beautiful piece of work."

They re-covered it and moved on. Like two kids in a candy store, they were eager to see what was beneath each covering. Shamus uncovered several more antique bedroom sets, while she found half a dozen chairs that would work perfectly when they were reupholstered.

"Look at this.” She'd hit the mother lode in a far corner. “Tables.” There were five small tables that would sit four people at each. “These are perfect for the dining room."

Shamus grabbed a large tarp close by and tugged. “Ah ha!"

"What?” She turned and began to cough and sputter as dust filled the air.

"Chairs."

Cyndi waved her hand in front of her face, as she hurried over beside him. Sure enough, piled haphazardly on one another were easily fifteen to twenty chairs. “This is perfect. They don't all match, but they'll look amazing with all the seats covered in the same fabric. It will be charming and inviting, but not stuffy."

"No. Not stuffy at all.” Shamus cupped her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. “You've got dust all over your face."

"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.