“OH,” I SAID. “I—I guess you’ve come for your coat?”
For a moment, Seamus looked perplexed, and then his expression shifted to amusement. A smile tweaked the corners of his mouth, and his dark brown eyes twinkled.
The man was about to laugh at me. I thought that I ought to be irritated but instead, I became flummoxed. My pulse drummed in my ears.
Seamus broke into a grin. “Well, a storm has whipped up, so yes, I’d like my coat.” His expression suddenly turned serious. “But I was coming to check on you. That encounter with Rosita. It was … brutal.”
My eyes prickled. “Let me get your coat, before someone sees you.”
Seamus’s laugh was sharp, critical, and that made my eyes water even more. “With all that’s gone on today, that’s what you’re worried about? That someone might think I’m, ah, visiting your room? Does that really matter?” He sounded disappointed in me. Though I suddenly longed to grab him and pull him into my room, I pressed my lips together into a prim, taut line that would have pleased Mama.
I whirled around, grabbed his coat, then thrust it at him. I didn’t regard him as he took it, but he let his fingertips unnecessarily touch my hand. A thrilling shock went through me, and I involuntarily trembled. I wished for him to drop the damned coat, shut the door behind him, then pull me to him.
But he turned, about to leave.
“Rosita told me it was my fault. Oliver’s dying,” I blurted. “Just now, when I brought her evening snack to her—” Seamus faced me, his expression almost pitying. I forced myself to go on. “I—I—made a choice, and it ricocheted, and that led to a shoot-out between Eddie’s and Marco’s gangs—” My voice strangled on the sob I tried to choke back. My mother’s words clawed up from my buried past. From when I was Susan. You don’t deserve to live … it should have been you … “And Oliver was caught in the crossfire—”
“Oh, Aurelia, that wasn’t your fault,” Seamus said. “Rosita was just so emotional tonight—”
He stopped, as if realizing he’d said too much. Was he just comforting me, or did he truly know something about the events around Oliver’s death? For a moment, I thought I saw a dropping of the guardedness that he’d worn like an opaque mask ever since he arrived. But then his expression closed again.
A frostiness overtook my earlier emotion. “This morning, you were supposed to be helping Henry with shutting down the fountain and outbuildings for the winter,” I said. Come to think of it, so was Liam, but he, too, hadn’t shown up for his duties. I pushed aside that realization for the time being. I needed—wanted—to focus on Seamus for now. “But you were hurrying down to the southwest dock.”
I looked at Seamus’s red-and-black-checked hunting jacket, noted that he gripped it so hard that his knuckles were white and the hairs stood up on his fingers. I should, I thought, be alarmed. I was challenging this man, who was so much bigger and stronger than me, and who was blocking the exit from my bedroom. And yet, I felt nothing but curious, and calm.
I met his dark gaze as I asked, “Why were you heading there? Did you know that the Myra would be arriving today?”
“Why were you at the dock?”
“Swimming. As usual.” My tone was defiant, yet my resolve was loosening. I thought of the treasure I’d found and then tied up below the dock. Had Seamus seen me do so? Or even Liam?
“But later than usual—”
“Oh, so you’ve been noticing what time I swim?”
He gave a cockeyed grin, but his grip on the coat didn’t lighten. “I’ve sure been noticing you.”
I ignored the comment. I wouldn’t let him distract me—and yet, I felt heat rising in my cheeks. “Were you checking that the flag would be up?” I gasped. “Wait, did you want to warn Rosita? Did you … did you know Marco would be coming, too?”
What if he was working for Marco? Or in league with Eddie beyond just being a bodyguard, intent on manipulating Rosita? Or had been concocting some plot with Rosita, who, I assumed, only noticed him from her veranda and overheard his name. But she’d used it so easily, so casually that morning … Or what if he and Liam were plotting something together? Liam, who was quiet and goofy and easy to dismiss, yet he hadn’t been at his appointed duties that morning, either. None of us, except the Carmichaels, had been.
Confusion and weariness made my head spin and I stumbled backward, ramming into my bed.
Seamus dropped his coat, reached out to steady me. A delicious shiver coursed through my body, and I knew what I wanted.
I knew he wanted the same thing, but would not, despite his occasional teasing remarks, do as I suddenly desired: encircle me in his arms, kiss me.
Suddenly, I was weary of being demure, waiting for what I wanted, instead of grasping it for myself.
In the morning, I’d be gone.
But at that moment, I wanted Seamus.
I pulled from him just long enough to shut my bedroom door.
I pressed my lips to his. For a moment he was unresponsive, and my heart gave a sickening twist. Maybe I’d misread his signs …
And then he responded, eagerly.
I grasped him, pulled us to my bed.