Shannon's Daughter (22 page)

“Yes.
 
But come over here first.
 
Please.”
 
She held out a hand.
 
Helpless to
resist, he moved aside the tray and slid closer, offering no resistance when
she settled her head in his lap.
 

He
couldn’t look down into her face as he began, preferring to stare at the wall
opposite.
 
“It was my first year at
Oxford.
 
I met a girl, another music
student,
piano
.
 
Things happened the way they do, you meet, you talk, you kiss and before
you know it, you think you’ve found the love of your life.”
 
He stopped, the vision floating before his
eyes unbearably clear.

“What
happened to her?”
 
The question was too
intuitive.
 
He looked down at her, saw
the compassion in her eyes, and felt his chest tighten.

“She
had a kind of emotional breakdown before the end of the term.
 
I suppose the pressure was too much, and
apparently she’d never been very strong.
 
I heard from her father later that she’d gone into a private asylum for
treatment.”

Reaching
up, she pressed her hand against his cheek.
 
“That’s so sad.
 
You loved her
very much, didn’t you?”

“I
thought I did.”
 
He shook free of the
memory.
 
“But that was a very long time
ago.
 
I don’t know how you got me talking
about it.”

She
rose to her knees, turning to face him.
 
“I’m glad you told me.
 
It’s as if
you gave me something of yourself, something important.”
 
Another instant passed, during which her eyes
misted with tears, and she slid her arms around his shoulders, drawing him
close.
 

He
didn’t question what happened next.
 
Once
they were side by side on the carpet, clasped in each other’s arms, he had no
doubt of what she wanted or what he could give.
 
It was enough at first to hold and be held, to kiss her gently and allow
her to touch him with hands that comforted more than aroused.
 
Unlike the night before, he had no thought of
making love.
 
They lay together for long
enough that he lost all sense of time or place, something he had not done with
a woman in all the years since that first sweet winter of falling in love.
 

“It’s
late.
 
You should go.”
 
His conscience stated the obvious, while he
knew he wanted her to stay.

Without
a word, she ran her hands inside his dressing gown, raking it off his shoulders
and pressing her cheek to his chest.
 
He
knew she could hear his heart quicken as her fingers traced across his skin.
 
Desire, sharp and unwelcome, coursed through
him, and he knew she felt that too.
 
It
would be so easy to give in, to love her the way he longed to, body, mind and
soul.

Rolling
on his side, he laid her on her back, smoothed her hair from her face and
pressed a kiss to her forehead.
 
Cautiously, his hand passed down the length of her body, skimming lightly
over each gentle contour.
 
He raised his
head to gauge her response, and she met his gaze with one of absolute
calm.
 
When his fingers slid beneath the
hem of her shirt, she closed her eyes briefly, opening them again to reveal a
spark of anticipation.
 

The first
brush of smooth skin beneath his hand set his pulse pounding.
 
Again, he hesitated, waiting for her to
react.
 
Her arms came up to draw his head
down, pressing his face to her shoulder.
 
The faint scent of lemons filled his nostrils as he breathed deeply and
parted his lips to glide his tongue along the base of her throat.
 
Still cautious, he caressed her ribs, sweeping
his thumb upward until it found the first swell of softness.
 
Instantly, she shifted to meet his hand, her
arms tightening around him.
 

“Tell
me to stop,” he breathed into her hair.

“No.
 
I don’t want to.
 
Keep going.”

“Peg, I
can only go so far before there’s no turning back.
 
I promised I wouldn’t let this happen.”
 
He sounded helpless, even to his own
ears.
 
She had crept past his resolve,
unwittingly forcing him to feel as he had sworn he would never do again.
 

When he
failed to move, she moaned softly and turned to match her body to his.
 
Her hands dug beneath the robe to spread
across his back, while she draped one long leg over his thigh.
 
He was surrounded by warmth, engulfed by
sensation.
 
He heard himself whisper her
name, pleading,
then
promising.
 
“I won’t hurt you, Peg.
 
I swear.”
 

Kisses,
tender and reverent, laid gently along her hairline, caresses, placed as
offerings on each newly-revealed wonder.
 
When she was finally pressed beside him, with nothing to prevent him
from touching and tasting wherever he chose, he paused to meet her eyes
again.
 

“I
won’t take your virginity.
 
I promise.”

“I
trust you.
 
But I can’t promise I won’t
want you to.”
 
A faint smile spread her
lips, a shimmer of wonder lit her eyes as she took his hand and stroked the
knuckles along her cheek.
 
“Is this what
it feels like to love?”

“Yes.
 
I think it must be.”

Chapter Twenty

He woke
to delicate fingertips trailing along his ribs.
 
Without opening his eyes, he envisioned the two of them shadowed by the
first glow of dawn, twined together on the sheets, Peg nestled at his side with
arms and legs and hair flowing around him.
 
Even unseen, she was perfection, sculpted grace and windswept
glory.
 
A smile forced its way across his
face.
 
Poetry and Peg insisted on moving
together through his mind, it seemed.
 

“Are
you awake?”
 
Her voice was husky and warm
in his ear.

“Are
you?”

“Oh,
yes.
 
I’ve been exploring.”

“Exploring?”
 
In an alarmed instant, he made a quick survey
and was assured she hadn’t explored too far.

“You’re
still dressed,” she point out accusingly.

“Yes.
 
But you’re not.”
 
He rolled them over until he was on top of
her, pinning her lightly to the bed.
 

She
smiled up at him, a far too self-satisfied grin.
 
“Is that fair?”

“It’s
safe.
 
Otherwise, the risk would have
been too great.
 
Besides, you’re far more
beautiful this way than I would be.”
 
He
dropped to her mouth for one soft kiss before bracing above her.
 
Eyes
sparkling
a
challenge, she flung her arms wide and waited.
 
“Oh, yes.
 
Too
beautiful to hide beneath those hideous pajamas.”
 
He lowered himself until their bodies met.
 
“And too soft, too sweet to
leave untouched.
 
Peg!
 
What have you done?
 
You’ve reduced me to spouting horrible
poetry!”

She
laughed, wiggling beneath him.
 
“Not so horrible.
 
When did we get in bed?
 
I don’t remember.”

“After
you fell asleep on the floor and I couldn’t.”
 
The memory of that moment, when he’d laid her on the bed and allowed his
eyes to make love to her was enough to heighten his lingering arousal.
 
“You should leave soon.
 
It’s almost daylight.”

She
answered by drawing his head down to the pillow beside hers.
 
“Not yet.
 
I don’t want this to end.”
 
Her
hands slid to the waistband of his trousers with an implied request.

Last
night he had held himself in check, refusing to introduce her to sensations
that would only lead to frustration later, but now as she moved beneath him, he
sensed she would go on demanding until her needs were met.
 
Carefully, he rose to his knees, straddling
her hips.

“You should
leave.
 
Before I can’t let you go.”
 
Taking her hands, he raised them above her
head, holding them in one of his while with the other he smoothed her hair from
her face.

“I need
more, Kendall.
 
I’m not even sure what it
is, but I know I need it.”

Smiling
down on her, he traced her lips with his index finger.
 
“Don’t be greedy, brat.
 
More will only leave you wanting even
more.
 
I’m trying to protect you from
that lusty nature of yours, you know.”

In
answer, she lifted her hips, pressing up between his thighs.
 
“Did I ask for your protection?”

He
laughed, releasing her hands and falling onto the bed beside her.
 
“No.
 
But you’re going to have it anyway.
 
In another minute, I’m going to take myself off to shower, making sure
to lock the bathroom door, and you’re going to put on those hideous pajamas and
leave.
 
And when we meet at breakfast,
you will keep that wicked gleam out of your eyes and we will pretend that both
of us slept peacefully in our beds last night.
 
Do I make myself clear?”

“Oh,
yes.
 
And I’ll play along, provided you
promise me something.”

“That
depends on what sort of something you have in mind.”

“Let me
come to you again tonight.
 
And teach me
more.”
 
She turned on her side, bracing
on one elbow to stare down at him.

“You’re
taking too many chances, Peg.”
 
He
couldn’t resist sifting her hair through his fingers, letting the soft length
fall across his skin.

“No one
will suspect a thing.
 
I’ll be very
careful.”

“And
what about the chance you take with me?”
 
His hand drifted downward for one last journey along the captivating rise
and fall of her body.
 

“I’m
willing to take that chance.
 
Are you,
with me?”

With a
sigh, he pulled her across him chest.
 
“I
must be.
 
I doubt I’d have the strength
to chase you away from my door.”
 
Her
hand went again to his waistband, simultaneously setting off a flood of desire
and a clamor of warning.
 
He lifted her
aside and rolled off the bed.
 
“But
that’s tonight.
 
For now, you’re
leaving.”

She
stayed where he’d left her, her eyes following him as he moved to the foot of
the bed.
 
He’d never been shy about women
looking at his body.
 
He’d been blessed
with a well-proportioned, adequately muscled frame which required little
maintenance.
 
Since it was nothing he
could take credit for, he was neither vain nor proud.
 
Still, standing half-naked
beneath the sparkling blue gaze of Peg Shannon set off an inexplicably anxious
flutter in his gut.

Without
a word, she sat up, drawing her knees to her chin and staring him up and down,
tilting her head critically to one side.
 
She might as well have been touching him, for all the sensations her
slow appraisal fired off along his nerves.
 
Finally, with a husky sigh, she tilted her head to the other side and
said softly, “You’re absolutely delicious.
 
I can’t believe a man who looks like you held me in his arms last night
and did such beautiful things to me.”

There
were two obvious options.
 
With an
exasperated moan, he took the less rewarding.
 
“I’ll see you at breakfast, brat.
 
Don’t forget to take that tray when you go.”

By the
time Peg appeared, he’d almost finished eating.
 
Dressed in a sleeveless shirt and circular skirt, her hair again in
braids pinned at the back of her head, she bounced into the kitchen with a
sweet smile for Mrs. Leary and a cheery “Good morning, Kendall!
 
Did you sleep well?”
 

He
grinned behind his coffee cup.
 
“You
obviously did.
 
You’re a little ray of
sunshine on this gloomy morning.”
 
He
nodded toward the looming thunderheads above the rooftops.

“Looks
like we’re in for rain.
 
Are you out and about this morning,
Miss?”
 
Mrs. Leary set a basket of
popovers on the table and stood by as Peg reached for one with an appreciative
“ooh!”

“Kendall,
you have to have one of these while they’re hot.
 
They’re absolutely delicious.”
 
Breaking the muffin, she held out one
half.
 
As he leaned in to take a bite
from her hand, she met his eyes with a look that effectively stripped him
naked.
 
“No, Mrs. Leary, I thought I’d
stay in this morning.
 
We should go over
the menu and seating for tomorrow night, shouldn’t we?” she answered politely.
 

Unless
Mrs. Leary was blind and deaf, he felt sure she was aware of the current
crackling across the table as Peg took a healthy bite and moaned her
pleasure.
 
The girl was seducing him over
breakfast, and he was helpless to stop her.
 
Another few minutes of this and he’d have to snatch her up and kiss that
ecstatic little smile off her lips right here, Mrs. Leary or no.
 

“In
that case, I think I’ll try to get in a couple hours of practice.”
 
The fact that his voice was relatively normal
was surprising.
 
In his head, that had
sounded more desperate than dispassionate.

“Oh,
good.
 
I was afraid you’d feel neglected this
morning.
 
I have some things to get out
of the way before I go to the hospital.”
 
She paused to delicately dab the corners of her mouth with her
napkin.
 
“Will you come with me, to the
hospital, I mean?”

“If
you like.”

“I do
like.
 
I hate hospitals.
 
Poor Dad, he does too.
 
I guess I come by it honestly.”
 
She got to her feet.
 
“Speaking of hospitals, I should call to
check on him.
 
Mrs. Leary, thank you for
the popovers.
 
I’ll be back in a little
while to go over the menu, if that’s all right with you.”

“I’ll
be right here.”
 
Peg was gone, still
bouncing, and the housekeeper looked after her with a chuckle.
 
“That girl, she’s like a whirlwind, in and
out.
 
Can I pour you another cup of
coffee, sir?”

“Thank
you, Mrs. Leary.
 
And I’d like it if
you’d join me.
 
There’s a little
something I wanted to mention to you.”
 
He hadn’t realized it was on his mind until the opportunity suddenly
presented.

Seemingly
at ease with his suggestion, Mrs. Leary poured a second cup and took the seat
Peg had vacated.
 
“What can I help you
with, Mr. Gregg?”

“There
was a little incident on Tuesday night.
 
I’m afraid it was overshadowed by Mr. Shannon’s illness, but I felt it
worth mentioning.”
 
It was clear he had
her attention now.
 
“I left Peg alone in
the theater during intermission and when I returned there was a man speaking to
her.
 
She said she had no idea who he
was, but I could see he had upset her.
 
He
apparently mentioned he’d known her mother, or seen her on stage, at
least.
 
I know you are all very
protective of her and I wondered if there was some actual reason to be concerned.
 
Other than the absurd fascination some people
have with the very wealthy, of course.”

He was
struck by the immediate change in Mrs. Leary’s attitude.
 
Her eyes narrowed as a blush of what might
well have been anger spread up her face.
 
“Can you tell me what this man looked like, sir?”

“Not
very tall, slim, fifties maybe.
 
Judging from what I could see of his clothes,
he wasn’t what you’d call well-to-do.
 
I
only got a glimpse of him, but before he vanished, he caught sight of me and
frankly, I didn’t like the look he gave me.
 
I could be all wrong. . .”

“No,
sir.
 
You were absolutely right to tell me.”
 
Mrs. Leary set down her cup with a clatter.

Kendall’s
pulse quickened.
 
“Do you know who he
is?”

“I may
well.
 
I’ll have to tell Mr. Adamson,
sir.
 
And he may want to ask you more about
this.”

“Mrs.
Leary, is Peg in any real danger?”

She
seemed to take his measure before answering.
 
“No sir, not in the way I think you mean.
 
But I’m afraid there are those who remember
things, from the past, you know, and might try to bring them up now.
 
Peg’s mother was a wonderful girl, don’t ever
think otherwise.
 
But show business is full
of all kinds.
 
And sadly some people
never change.”

“Who is
this man?
 
Can you tell me?”

“I
can’t be sure, but it sounds like a fellow called Brendan O’Hara.
 
Back in the day he fancied himself a talent
agent.
 
He knew Molly, Mrs. Shannon, that
is, and a lot of other girls, only because he was forever pestering the life
out of them to hire him on.
 
I thought
we’d heard the last of him way back when she married Mr. Shannon, but I suppose
scum will always rise to the surface.”