His fingers pushed back her bangs as he leaned down and kissed her forehead. It was a gentle caress, one to give comfort, with no expectations. Other than her Aunt Verna, no one had ever touched her in such a way before.

When she was growing up, the boys she'd dated had treated her as a prize to be won. As she'd grown older, the men had treated her like a sexual trophy, although all of them had gone away empty-handed. Most folks in this town probably wouldn't believe it, but she'd been a virgin when she'd married Brett Landers. Her father had her checked by the doctor every six months back when she lived at home and had sworn he'd kill her if she gave in to a man without a ring on her finger.

She'd realized too late that she'd married a man too much like her father. Aunt Verna had warned her, but she hadn't listened, hadn't wanted to. All Cyndi had wanted was to be loved for herself, but it hadn't happened. A divorce had quickly followed. After that, she hadn't trusted her judgment, not when it came to men.

But Shamus seemed different.

No man had ever touched her just to offer comfort. Cyndi swallowed the lump in her throat. He pulled his lips away and just rested his forehead against hers. Her fingers tightened, holding onto his shirt as if he was the only anchor she had in a world tilted on its axis.

"You have to leave me alone,” she whispered. Shamus was a good man, a kind man, and she would not be responsible for causing problems between him and his family. Those days were over. Somehow, she found the strength to pry her fingers from his shirt and push him away. He leaned back, but didn't move away. His eyes searched her face, but he said nothing. “I won't cause problems for you and your family."

"Let me worry about them."

"No.” She shook her head adamantly. The kettle began to whistle, and she slid away from him. Her body grazed his, and it sent a blast of heat through her.

Cyndi's hand was shaking as she lifted the kettle and placed it on the back burner. “Look, we only met yesterday. You helped me out in a jam, and we had breakfast this morning. There's nothing between us."

Shamus came up behind her and rested his large, powerful hands on her shoulders. “You don't believe that any more than I do,” he whispered as he kissed the side of her neck.

For just a moment, she gave into weakness and leaned into his caress. His lips glided over her nape and then he was nibbling on her earlobe. The pounding of her heart filled her ears, her breathing was getting shallow, and her knees went weak.

"No, you have to stop.” She meant her protest to come out strong and sure, instead her voice was little more then a sultry whisper. She grabbed the edge of the counter, wrapping her fingers around the edge of the hard marble. “Stop it, Shamus."

He stepped back immediately, but turned her to face him. She tried to resist, but he just kept up a steady pressure until she gave up. “I'll go, but this is far from over."

"It's over. It has to be over."

He cocked his head to one side and a lock of his molasses-brown hair fell across his forehead. He shoved it aside. “We're both adults, Cyndi. What we do is our business."

She laughed and the sound was bitter. “Not in this town, it's not. Word will be out before the end of today that Cynthia James is back in town. Everyone will be speculating what trouble I'm going to stir up. Because I had breakfast with you, folks will be wondering what problems I'm going to cause your family. I won't have it, Shamus. Not this time. Not when I can prevent it."

He stared at her for so long that she began to get uncomfortable. Shamus had a way of looking at her as if he could see into her very soul. And maybe he could. There was an aura of calmness around him, yet she could sense the power swirling beneath. It was that power that frightened her. This man might smile at the world, but she sensed there was very little, if anything, that he wanted in his life that he didn't have. He had a relentlessness about him masked by the calmness. He was a contradiction and he was dangerous to her peace of mind.

"I'll go.” Just as she breathed a sigh of relief, he added, “For now.” Reaching into his back pocket, he dug out a business card and tucked it into the pocket of her shirt. His fingers grazed the edge of her breast and her nipple tightened. “If you need me, call anytime day or night."

She nodded. Speech was beyond her with him still touching her. He stepped back, turned on his heel, and stalked away. He paused in the doorway and looked back over his shoulder. “You're not the woman you were, Cyndi. Don't let the past keep you prisoner.” With those parting words, he left. She heard the front door close quietly behind him.

She sagged against the kitchen counter. “Oh, lord.” She knew in her heart that she hadn't seen the last of Shamus O'Rourke. Next time, she'd have better defenses in place, or at least she hoped she would. He was too young for her, and he was an O'Rourke. His family and hers had a history.

But none of her logical reasoning could stop the frantic beat of her heart. Something about Shamus made her want to lean her head on his shoulder and pour out her troubles. He brought out feelings in her she'd thought long dead, making them surge back to life again. He made her feel like a woman, a woman with sexual wants and needs.

Whirling around, she opened a cupboard door and took down a ceramic mug. She dug out a box of chamomile tea that she'd brought with her, dumped a teabag into the mug, and poured water from the kettle over it. As it steeped, she stared blindly out the kitchen window.

She had bigger problems than just Shamus. She still had to decide what to do with the house and the bulk of its contents. Picking up her tea, she took a sip as she tried to organize her thoughts.

First things first.

With her mug cradled in her hand, she began to open and close kitchen drawers. She finally found what she was looking for in a drawer close to the phone hung on the wall. Yanking the phone book out, she began to flip the pages, running her finger up and down the pages until she found what she was searching for—Alicia Flint, attorney. That had to be Alan Flint's daughter. Cyndi remembered her well even though Alicia had been two years behind her in school. She'd been a sensible girl, and very smart—both good qualities for a lawyer.

Picking up the phone, she quickly dialed the number. When the receptionist answered, Cyndi asked to make an appointment. As it happened, Ms. Flint had a cancellation this morning and could see her in an hour. Perfect, Cyndi thought as she hung up. The quicker she could get rid of Harris and Hammond, the better.

Shamus was still reeling as he pulled away from the mansion on James Lane. He could hardly believe that his Cyndi was really Cynthia James. Well, she had been Cynthia James. Now she was Cyndi Marks, and he knew it was more than a simple name change with her.

He'd wanted to take her into his arms and hold her, promising her that her past didn't matter. Wouldn't matter. But he wasn't stupid. It might not matter to him, but it would to a lot of people. Her father might have hurt a lot of folks in this town, but he'd bet his last dollar that Cyndi Marks wouldn't.

There was a wounded, almost fragile, quality about her, even though he knew she'd deny it. She was a woman who obviously hadn't had an easy life. She might have grown up in luxury, but he had a feeling her life had been anything but a fairytale.

Shamus knew himself well. He was thirty years old and had never had this kind of a reaction to a woman before. Something about Cyndi drew him. There was an innate kindness in her that he knew she'd probably deny. She'd learned to guard her emotions well, but she couldn't hide them from him.

Call him a fool, but he knew he'd regret it for the rest of his life if he didn't pursue the attraction he felt toward her. Maybe nothing would come of it, but deep inside, he knew that if they worked at it, they could have something special together.

But there was no way he wanted to hurt his family either. He took a turn out of town and headed toward his sister's house. He needed to talk to Burke and Dani and find out exactly what had happened all those years ago. He might have been only sixteen at the time, but he remembered Dani and Burke having problems before they'd gotten married. And, of course, he'd heard the gossip about the scene in the diner. That tale had been on everyone's lips for months afterwards.

Shamus wasn't interested in gossip. He wanted the truth. Cyndi didn't deny what she'd done, but what he needed to discover was why she'd done it. He'd give her a day to settle in before dropping by to talk to her again.

One way or another, he'd have answers.

Chapter Five

Patrick's sheriff's cruiser was in the yard when Shamus pulled in behind his sister's house. Good, he wouldn't have to chase his brother down to find out what he knew. He glanced at his watch and found it hard to believe that it wasn't quite half past ten yet. So much had happened this morning.

When he shut off the truck, he hauled out his cell phone to make a quick call. His men would be wondering where he was as he was usually the first on the job site in the morning. They were working on the next phase of the lake development and had three homes at various stages in their construction. He talked to Joe Banks, his foreman, who assured him everything was going according to schedule. Telling Joe that he'd be in later, he snapped his phone closed and climbed out of his truck.

He strode up the familiar path and up over the few steps to the back door. Not bothering to knock, he let himself into the mudroom just off the kitchen.