Boiling the kettle, she made herself a cup of tea, but it sat untouched on the kitchen counter as she peered out the window. The garden was more barren than when she'd first arrived, many of the leaves were now scattered on the ground. The trees looked desolate and cold. Cyndi shivered, rubbing her hands over her arms for warmth.

Picking up the teacup, she forced herself to take a sip. She wasn't really hungry or thirsty, but recognizing that her body had had a shock, she knew the sweet tea would help.

The front door closed heavily, the sound echoing through the mostly empty house all the way to the kitchen. She could measure how close Shamus was to her by the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor. She laid her cup aside and watched the door.

He filled the doorway, his face set like stone as he watched her. She wasn't quite sure what to say. There was a tension between them that hadn't been there before. Cyndi's body began to tremble. She didn't know why she was reacting like this.

Shamus swore and came toward her, scooping her into his arms. “I don't know what's wrong with me.” Even her voice sounded fretful, which wasn't like her at all.

"Shock."

She buried her face against his shoulder, wanting to get closer to him. Shamus was always so warm and she wasn't sure she'd ever feel that way again. Another shiver took her by surprise as he carried her up the stairs and down the hallway.

He set her down on the edge of the bed. “I'm going to run you a hot bath.” He paused to crank up the thermostat before he went into the bathroom.

"Okay.” She stared around the room at nothing when he left. As if she'd had one upset too many, her brain was having a hard time processing everything. She'd been through so much these past weeks.

She'd been shocked when she'd first gotten news of her father's death. Finding out that he'd left everything to her had been overwhelming. The decision to come home to Jamesville and face her past hadn't been an easy one to make, but she'd been determined.

Things hadn't gone quite as she'd planned. Never could she have anticipated a relationship with Shamus O'Rourke or the trouble that would bring to his family. Then there was the discovery of her father's illegal dealings. Add to that the emotional drain of disposing of the contents of the house and the fact that someone out there hated her enough to shoot at her, slash her tires, and send her threatening letters, it wasn't any wonder she'd finally had enough.

Still, she was made of stronger stuff. Forcing herself to stand, she leaned against the bed, supporting herself with one hand as she toed off her sneakers. Methodically, she stripped off her jeans, shirt, and socks, leaving them in a pile on the floor. She wandered into the bathroom just as Shamus was heading back into the bedroom. He said nothing as he stripped off her bra and panties and helped her into the tub.

The hot water swirled around her and she closed her eyes, sighing with pleasure. Heat sank into her stiff muscles, soothing them. Her eyes popped open when the water swirled around her. Hard hands shifted her.

"There's room for two.” Shamus picked her up and arranged her on his lap, his arms adding their warmth to that of the water. When the tub was full, he leaned forward and turned off the taps before settling back against the side.

"About what happened today,” she began, but Shamus cut her off.

"All that matters is that you're home and you're safe.” She could feel the hard length of his erection pressing into her lower back, but his touch was soothing rather than arousing. Still, her body responded to his nearness. Her breasts grew heavy, her nipples tightened, and an ache grew between her thighs.

When he helped her out of the tub twenty minutes later, she was both relaxed and aroused. Shamus patted her dry, dragging the towel across his chest and legs, before lifting her into his arms again, and carrying her into the bedroom. It was if he didn't want to let her go.

Laying her on the bed, he reached into the nightstand and pulled out a condom. Quickly, he sheathed himself and came down on the bed beside her. The air in the room was warm thanks to the fact he'd turned up the heat earlier. Her skin was rosy from the hot bath and the desire pumping through her veins.

There was no foreplay this time. Only raw need. Without preamble, he reached between her thighs and spread the slick lips of her sex wide. With his other hand, he guided his shaft to her opening. Their eyes met and held as he pressed into her. She was hot and ready and took him easily. When he was buried to the hilt, he lifted her legs, draping them over his shoulders and began to thrust, slowly at first, but quickly gaining speed.

He went so deep and felt so large, she wasn't sure she could take him. Yet she did. Easily. Their bodies, in tune with one another, undulated in a dance of passion. Shamus reached between them, stroking her distended clitoris. Cyndi cried out, rolling her hips to meet his thrust.

"Come for me.” Shamus braced himself over her body, his face intense. Sweat dotted his forehead as he flexed his hips faster and faster.

Cyndi dug her fingers into the bed covers, her body on fire now, all the cold driven away by the heat of Shamus's passion. Her body thrummed, totally alive, poised on the brink of orgasm. “Shamus!” she cried, digging her heels into his shoulders, arching her back. Wanting. Needing to be closer.

His hips slammed into hers. Harder. Faster.

Sharp and intense, her orgasm rocketed through her. She cried out as he continued to pound into her body, claiming it, loving it. Her inner muscles clamped down tight on his cock and he yelled, his entire body jerking as he emptied himself in the condom.

Cyndi sank into the pillows, totally spent and gasping for breath. Shamus carefully lowered her legs, pulling out before collapsing alongside her. They lay there for a long time, before she'd turned her head on the pillow. He was watching her intently.

"I love you,” she whispered.

He reached out, his fingers grazing her lips. “I love you, too."

They slept for a while, then cleaned up again, and redressed. Shamus decided to grill the steaks, and they'd just finished eating when Patrick dropped by. There was really no news. No fingerprints. No witnesses.

Cyndi's spirits sank. Unless this unknown person made a mistake, they might never catch him. Patrick didn't stay long, and once they cleaned up from their meal, they headed upstairs again. Stripping off her clothing, she hauled on a nightshirt and crawled into bed. They tried to watch a movie on television, but neither of them was really interested. Finally, at eleven o'clock they called it a night.

Cyndi rolled over in bed yet again and punched her pillow. The red, glowing numbers from the clock on the nightstand told her it was just after two o'clock in the morning. She was exhausted and wanted to sleep, but her mind wouldn't shut down.

"You awake?” Shamus's voice was low.

"Yes.” She rolled over so that she was facing him. There was enough light from the moon coming in through the window for her to see him.

"I know that this is hard on you.” He stroked her hair so tenderly that it brought tears to her eyes.

"It hasn't exactly been easy on you either.” His relationship with her had brought him nothing but a boatload of trouble.

"But the benefits far outweigh the problems.” His thumb grazed her bottom lip.

"You sure about that?” At times like this, she wished she was strong enough to send him away. But the kind of joy and happiness he brought to her had been rare in her life. She'd never experienced the kind of love and devotion Shamus offered her. She had so much love to give and had never really found anyone to share it with before now. A love such as this was worth fighting for.

She'd been a coward for the first twenty-five years of her life and wasn't going back there. She'd worked hard these past fourteen years to make something of herself, to finally become the person she wanted to be. That woman was a fighter.

"I'm very sure.” He leaned forward, brushing his lips over hers. “Everything will work out.” Her body immediately began to tingle. No doubt about it, Shamus only had to look at her in a certain way and she was instantly aroused. It was both thrilling and disconcerting for a woman of her age to just be tapping into this well of abundant sexuality, but she liked it.

And from the hard-on poking her in the belly, so did he.

She reached her hand down to stroke him when the entire house suddenly shook. A huge boom seemed to echo in the air.

Shamus rolled out of bed, dragging her with him. “Get dressed,” he yelled.

Cyndi grabbed her jeans off the floor, not bothering with underwear. She ripped open a drawer and grabbed a sweater, pulling it on over her nightshirt. Stuffing her bare feet into her sneakers, she grabbed her purse. Her mind had finally made sense of the noises. Something had exploded.

Shamus was already dressed and had his phone out as he grabbed her hand. She could smell smoke when he opened the door. “Cyndi Marks's place. The old James house on James Lane,” he told the emergency operator as they hurried down the stairs. “No, I don't know how bad it is. We heard an explosion. We're on our way out now."

As they reached the bottom of the stairs, Cyndi could see the smoke billowing out from the kitchen area. She and Shamus raced for the front door. Cyndi turned all the locks and Shamus pulled the door open.

Cool air rushed in as they stepped out onto the front porch, closing the door behind them. Cyndi stumbled on a loose sneaker lace, almost losing her balance. She fell back, but Shamus caught her.