Shamus laughed. “You want to gut it, in other words."
"Pretty much.” She pulled away and headed for the door.
"That's not a problem. I just hope the plumbing in this place is good or it's going to get expensive.” Once again, Shamus was right behind her, his presence like a talisman, holding the worst of her memories at bay. It had been surprisingly easy to walk around her father's room. Probably because she'd never spent any time there as a child.
"That's not going to be a problem.” She closed the door behind her and headed down the hallway. Her room was next. “I found a bill in my father's papers. I haven't gone through half of them yet, but from what I saw, there was some major plumbing work done when he had the kitchen renovated a few years back. I think his bathroom and several more upstairs were probably redone at the time."
"Now that you mention it, I seem to remember that. Your father didn't use a local company to do the work, but brought in someone from outside."
Cyndi snorted. “Sounds like him."
"I take it you'll be using local tradesmen."
"If I can get them to work for me, I will."
"That won't be a problem.” Shamus wrapped his hand around her upper arm, stopping her. “Cyndi.” The heat from his hand seeped into her skin, warming her. She hadn't realized she was chilly. “You don't have to do this today."
She knew he was talking about her old room, but she was determined. She'd put it off long enough. “Yes, I do."
He released her and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck. “Okay, but promise me if it gets to be too much, you'll call it a day and try again tomorrow or the day after."
"I will.” She was touched by his concern. Reaching out, she laid her hands on his chest, absorbing his strength and his warmth. “Having you here makes it easier."
"I'm glad.” Leaning down, he brushed a kiss across her lips before straightening back to his great height. “Let's get this done.” Not waiting for her, he grabbed the doorknob, twisted, and pushed.
The room was exactly the same as it was the last time she'd been here. Walking inside was like walking through a time warp. “This room needs to be gutted—clothing, belongings, furniture, carpet, the works."
"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.