Cara O'Shea's Return, page 9
part #1 of Small Town New England Series
And destroyed our family. Helpless anger shimmered through Cara. “So, what happened? You hired her as your secretary and started having an affair?”
Other than a slight flinch, he didn’t react to her cutting sarcasm. “I hired her, but there was no affair. Not at first. She refused the job, but I kept after her until she finally relented. I begged her, Cara. I still loved her. I wanted her in my life any way I could have her. I convinced her, and myself, it would be enough just to see her every day. For a while it was. Then your mother went back to school, and I found myself alone more often than not.”
Hot fury burst within Cara. She leapt to her feet and rounded on him. “Don’t you dare! Damn it, Daddy. Don’t you dare blame Ma for any of this!”
“I’m not.” He rose to stand in front of her. “It’s hard for a man to admit, even to himself, when push came to shove, he wasn’t strong enough to do what was right for his family. But then, I knew at the time no matter what I chose to do, someone was going to be hurt. I’ll go to my grave knowing I chose to save myself from the worst of that hurt and sacrificed Mary and you girls in the process.” He shoved both hands through his hair. “I’m the one to blame, Cara mine. Not your mother and not Hannah.” At her snort of disdain, he laid his hand on her arm to keep her from spinning away. “I know you won’t believe me, but Hannah doesn’t deserve your animosity. She did everything she could to prevent anyone from being hurt, and is just as much a victim as Mary and you girls. I was the one who forced the situation.”
He was right. Cara didn’t believe him. No matter what kind of face he put on it, Hannah Dunn had stolen another woman’s husband and destroyed a family. Cara tugged free of his hand.
He dropped his arm to his side with a heavy sigh. “I used your mother’s absence as an excuse to have what I wanted, what I’d wanted most of my life. I pressured Hannah until she finally couldn’t take it anymore. She turned in her resignation. She was going to leave town.”
“Why didn’t you let her?” Cara cried. Eight years of heartbreak and disillusionment converged and left her shaking. She shoved at him with all her might and he staggered back. Her face twisted in a mask of pain, and furious tears blurred her vision. She leaped at him, thumping both fists against his chest. “Why didn’t you just let her?”
Her voice broke on a sob. He pulled her into his arms and held her close, pressing his face into her hair. Standing there in the shade of the old maple, he rocked her back and forth as she wept. She clung to him as she had when she was a little girl and needed him to make everything all right. But he couldn’t make everything right this time.
“I couldn’t lose her again, Cara mine.” Pain and loss strangled his voice. “I’d made a good life with your mother. You girls were my joy. But I couldn’t lose her again.”
Chapter Fourteen
The tightly shuttered windows made the studio dark, despite sunset being several hours away. Cara’s muscles ached as if she had been run over by a truck and Daddy didn’t appear much better when she left him.
She now had a better understanding of why he did the things he’d done. Still, she didn’t know yet how, or even if, that understanding would change her feelings about the situation.
Hearing her father professing love at first sight for a woman other than Ma was like taking a fist to the heart, but he was wrong when he said she couldn’t understand the strength of a first love. She did understand.
As a woman, she knew the folly of loving a man like Finn, but if seeing him again had taught her anything, it was that the long held feelings she had for him hadn’t faded with time, despite her efforts to put him from her mind and heart. Her father’s declaration of that same kind of love for a woman Cara thought of only in terms of infidelity, just confused her more than she had already been.
Too strung out to deal with her father’s revelations, or her helpless feelings for Finn, she needed to paint. With that in mind, she tossed her purse and keys on a shelf and headed for her easel. She stumbled to a halt, yelping in terror when a large body rose from behind the counter in the center of the room.
Recognizing Finn in the dim light did nothing to calm her racing heart. “Are you crazy? You scared the hell out of me!”
“I can see that.” Calmness itself, he leaned on the counter with a crowbar in one hand.
“What are you doing here?”
He lifted the crowbar. “Just cleaning up the rest of the carpet tacking.”
“In the dark?”
Hadn’t Ryan finished that task this morning before he left? She eyed Finn suspiciously. With her heartbeat just barely returning to normal, she stomped over to the wall and slapped the light switch, flooding the room with light.
“How did you get in here?” She jammed her fists to her hips. “Breaking and entering is a crime.”
“You don’t say?”
“Are you stalking me?”
“Looks like it.” He shrugged.
“There are laws against that kind of thing, you know.”
“Are you going to call the cops? My cousin is the chief. I could get him for you on his private cell phone.”
Relief and the drop of adrenaline from the fright he had given her must be making her lightheaded. She shook her head and tried not to smile. She failed.
“Small towns,” she grumbled beneath her breath.
“What was that?” Though his smile was teasing, his eyes were intent and she knew he noticed her red rimmed eyes. He didn’t comment on her tear ravaged face, and she was thankful for his restraint.
“I asked how you got in here. I know I locked the doors before I left.”
Shoving his fingers into the front pocket of his jeans, he held up a ring holding two keys and jangled them slightly.
“I used my key.”
“Your key? I didn’t give you a key!” Indignation smothered any lingering lightheadedness.
He rolled one shoulder in an abbreviated shrug. “I had them from when I did the renovation on the bookstore. I guess I never returned them.”
She held out her hand, palm up in silent demand. He slipped the ring back into his front pocket.
She glared at him. “Add new door locks to your bid.”
He pulled a small, tattered notebook from his back pocket. Taking a pen from the counter top, he flipped to the top page.
“New locks.” He scribbled in the book. “Extra set of keys for the contractor.”
A knock on the front door prevented her from commenting. She crossed the room, thankful for the interruption. The jerk. He needed a set of keys during the renovation, and they both knew it. Whoever was knocking had saved her from having to return them to him later.
Cara opened the door and Meggy sailed inside. She took one look at Cara’s face and grabbed her close.
“Aw, honey. Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” Cara tossed a worried glance over her shoulder, embarrassed to have Finn witness to the third degree she knew would be coming. Meggy had called just before Cara left to meet Tom, and she wasn’t surprised her friend showed up here instead of calling to find out what happened.
“You don’t look fine.” Meggy held up a large bottle of cheap chardonnay with a grin. “But, never fear. I’ve brought medicine.” Her grin froze as she spotted Finn. Gleeful speculation sparkled in her eyes when they jerked back to Cara. “Hmmm. Looks like the doctor is already here. Hi, Finn. I didn’t see you there.”
Cara flashed Meggy a horrified glare and turned. The amusement shining in Finn’s blue eyes said he heard every word.
“Hi, Meggy. How’ve you been?”
“I’ve been great, thanks.” She shot Cara a what’s-going-on stare before cocking her head and smiling at Finn. “What are you doing here?”
“Meggy...”
Finn spoke over Cara’s growled warning. “I’m doing the renovations on Cara’s studio.”
Meggy whipped her head around. “Finn the Fine is your contractor?”
Cara groaned, her eyes sliding shut. She wasn’t going to look at him. She really wasn’t. She opened her eyes. The satisfied smile on his face should have warned her of what was coming.
“Remember that dirt?” he quipped softly.
She wanted to laugh, despite the heat rising up her chest and face. Instead, she turned to Meggy, who was already backing toward the front door.
“Oh, no you don’t.” Cara scrambled after her, planning to keep her from leaving by sitting on her if necessary.
“Will you look at that?” Meggy glanced at her watch much too quickly to have noted the time. “I forgot I’m supposed to be meeting with, um...” She snapped her fingers. “With Shan! To talk about that idea we discussed the other day.” She thrust the bottle of wine into Cara’s hand and rushed out the door, calling over her shoulder. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Cara squeezed her eyes shut for a moment when the door closed in her face. Clutching the bottle to her chest, she faced Finn. He stood with his arms crossed, his weight cocked on one hip, and a dimpled grin on his face.
She stalked passed him to grab her purse and keys, meaning to make a clean getaway to her upstairs apartment.
“Finn the Fine?”
“Nobody takes Meggy seriously.” She continued toward the stairs, too heartsick and drained from the conversation with her father to enjoy the bantering tone in Finn’s voice. If she couldn’t paint, then she wanted to crawl into bed and pull the covers over her head.
“So, you think of me as Finn the Fine?” His voice was gently teasing and close, telling her he followed her to the stairs. She stopped and turned. Sure enough, he was only a foot away. She met his gaze, but didn’t return his smile.
“I don’t think of you that way anymore.” This wasn’t a subject she wanted to get into with him—ever, but especially not now, when she was so raw and ragged inside.
“Not so fine anymore, huh?” He pushed the subject.
“Something like that.” Please, just let it go. But of course, he didn’t.
“When did you stop thinking of me as Finn the Fine?”
She stiffened and knew she paled. She’d been foolish to think he wasn’t cruel enough to bring up that night, and in his defense, he didn’t realize what he was asking, but that didn’t help at the moment. Still, she should have known the topic would come up eventually. That night would always stand between them.
She swallowed the remembered humiliation rising like a fountain within her. Her voice was low and rough when she answered. “Graduation night, eight years ago.”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “We’ve never talked about that night, have we?” Comprehension darkened his blue eyes, even as his smile faded.
“And we aren’t going to.” She turned to leave. He stopped her by wrapping his long fingers around her upper arm. She glanced down at his hand and sighed. “I’m tired, Finn. Lock the door on your way out.”
He didn’t release her. Instead, the tip of his finger moved her chin to face him. “Hey.” He cupped her cheek, his thumb rubbing across her cheekbone in a gentle caress. He released her arm to frame her face with his palms. “Do you know what I remember from that night?”
She lifted her chin in heated defiance. “A drunk, half naked, genetic freak?”
“Genetic freak? What the hell?” His narrowed eyes were so focused on her she wanted to shrink from the intensity of them. When he spoke, his words were crisp and clear. “I remember a frightened, seventeen-year-old girl with the body of a goddess and the regality of a queen, facing down a pack of idiot teenage boys. You were thrust into a situation that would have made anyone cower, Cara, and yet you stood there with your quiet dignity, and shamed everyone.”
She searched his face with wary eyes, seeking the truth that would put a lie to his words—words that oozed over her memory of that night like a healing balm. She found only sincerity.
He explored her face with his eyes, from her brows, over her cheekbones to her mouth. When his eyes rose again to meet hers, her breath caught at the burning desire in them. Her heart galloped like a wild horse in her chest.
“You took my breath away that night, Cara.” Slowly, he lowered his head until his mouth was a whisper from hers. “You still take my breath away.”
His mouth covered hers. He didn’t touch her anywhere but where his hands rested against her face and where his lips rubbed across hers. As with the last kiss, fire exploded through her system, urging her to press closer until nothing separated them and she could once again feel the hard angles of his body molding to her soft curves. She whimpered softly at the loss when his mouth left hers, only then realizing her eyes had drifted shut at the first brush of his mouth. They fluttered open to find him watching her.
The hot blue flame of desire burning in his eyes seduced her, and her heart soared. She was completely off balance, suffering residual emotion from talking to her father, but that didn’t matter. Even if it was only for this moment, she didn’t want to resist Finn’s seduction. She’d loved him for so long—wanted to hold him, to be held by him, and know the joy of becoming one with him.
Acting on those wants might be the mistake of her life, but she was beyond caring. She rose on her tiptoes and pressed her mouth to his.
His lips crushed hers, while his arms wrapped around her and pulled her so tightly to him, the powerful thud of his heart thundered against her breasts. He urged her mouth open, and shyly her tongue met the demanding thrust of his. When he broke the kiss to lean his forehead on hers, she swayed in his arms, dazed and confused.
“Let me love you, Cara.”
She thrilled at the husky timber of his voice. Nuzzling her forehead to his, she spoke from the heart, knowing he wouldn’t understand the deeper meaning of her words. “I want you to love me.”
He compressed her ribs in a bone crushing squeeze before loosening his hold enough for her to breathe. He dropped his chin to the top of her head. “Are you sure?”
She nodded.
“Then we’d better find a bed, or we’re going to end up on your hardwood floor.”
Chapter Fifteen
Untangling from his arms, she stepped back, the forgotten bottle of wine dangling from her fingers. He sighed inwardly. Had she changed her mind? Did she mean to call a halt to the madness gripping them both? Relief crashed through him when she wrapped her fingers around his, and led him up the stairs to her apartment.
Neither of them spoke until she stopped beside a queen-sized bed in her small bedroom. She set the wine bottle on the nightstand and gazed at him. Her beautiful eyes suddenly filled with uncertainty.
“I don’t know what to do.”
He stilled and narrowed his attention on her face. Her nervousness broadcast itself in the lowering of her eyes, the blush on her cheeks. Every raging instinct in his body ground to a halt.
Jesus, was she a virgin?
He couldn’t wrap his mind around the concept. She stood beside her bed, this woman with a body designed to temp men to sin, and stared at him with the eyes of an innocent. He should end this now, while he still could.
Hell, who was he kidding? He had passed the stopping stage when she led him up those stairs.
Inhaling a deep breath and forcing his overheated body to relax, he ran a soothing hand over her shoulder, down her arm and up again.
“Have you ever been with a man, baby?”
“I...yes, once.” Two flags of color bloomed on her cheeks. Her eyes slid shut.
His heart was going to explode in his chest.
“Hey.” She continued to stand before him with her eyes squeezed tight. “Hey.” She opened her eyes. He cocked his head and tried to reassure her. “It’s like riding a bike. Once you’ve learned...”
She laughed as he meant her to. “I’m nervous.”
Lifting her hand, he pressed her palm against his chest, directly above his frantically beating heart. Her eyes widened in surprise.
“Me too. We’ll take it slow. If I do something you don’t like, tell me. If I do something you like, feel free to beg for more.” He grinned unapologetically, pleased when the nerves faded from her eyes with a smile.
Leaving her hand over his heart, he reached for the top button of her blouse. She stood silently while his fingers dispensed with each of the tiny buttons. In no time, he peeled back the lapels and surveyed what he exposed.
“You’re beautiful.”
He bent at the knees, leaning forward to glide his lips along her delicate collarbone. The open material of her blouse slid over the velvet soft skin of her shoulders at the urging of his hands, riding his wrists until it slithered down her arms to drop to the floor on a whisper.
Her head dropped back helplessly when his mouth moved to one shoulder, nipping gently at the sensitive tendon there. She shivered.
“I’ve wanted to do this almost from the first time I saw you.” With his tongue, he laved at the nip, leaving a warm, moist trail as he explored her neck.
She swayed against him, and he lifted his head. He studied the color across her cheekbones before his gaze dropped to her breasts, half hidden from his hungry view by a frilly confection of white silk and lace. His gaze continued down over her flat stomach to the clasp at the top of the white Capri pants molding her curves like a jealous lover.
The button and zipper fell victim to his experienced fingers, and sliding his palms over her hips, he peeled away the light material until her slacks joined the blouse on the floor. A low groan escaped him and every muscle in his body tightened with his first look at Cara O’Shea in nothing but a white lace demi-bra and thong.
