Shannon's Daughter (27 page)

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Authors: Karen Welch

BOOK: Shannon's Daughter
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“All
right.
 
But I reserve the right to lecture once your
minute is up.”

They
started walking again, and Peg slid her hand around his arm, her fingers
lightly stroking along the sensitive skin of his forearm.
 
“Just suppose that when we meet again, we
still feel this way.
 
Suppose you’ve
gotten your job with the London Philharmonic, and I’ve finished college.
 
Suppose you haven’t found a woman who made
you forget all about me.
 
What would keep
us from picking up where we left off here?”
 

He
tried to come up with an answer, but he couldn’t get past the idea that there would
never be a woman who could make him forget her, not even for a moment.
 
“Have you considered law school?
 
You make a very solid case for completely
abandoning common sense and reason to engage in hopeless fantasy.
 
Once I’m gone and you meet other men, I can’t
believe you’ll still see me the same way.
 
I’m just that childhood hero you developed a crush on all those years
ago in Ireland.
 
But trust me,
sweetheart, I’m not the man you think I am.”

She
stopped walking, pulling him up so sharply her nails dug into his arm.
 
“Kendall Gregg, what makes you such an
authority on what I think?
 
Why should I trust
you when you won’t trust me to know my own mind?
 
And how do you know what kind of man I think
you are?
 
Give me a little credit, please.
 
I know how I feel when I’m with you, and it’s
certainly not like a child!”
 
Cheeks
flushed and eyes sparking blue fire, she moved closer, rising on tiptoe until
they were nose to nose.
 
“I love you, you
silly fool!
 
Can’t you just let me?”

“Good
lord!” he breathed.
 
“Where did that come
from?”

She
blinked.
 
“What?”

“All
that fury.
 
And I hardly think I deserve to be called a
fool.
 
Not in the same breath with a
declaration of love.”
 
He cautiously
circled her waist, braced for another outburst.
 
Instead, Peg dropped her head to his chest and groaned.

“I’m so
confused, Kendall.
 
You’ve made me feel
so many new things in such a short time, I can’t think straight.”

Urging
her closer, he rested his cheek on her hair.
 
“I know, sweetheart.
 
I feel much
the same.”

“You
do?”

“Yes.
 
And I’ve had a bit more experience with this
sort of thing than you have.
 
I should
know how to handle myself, but I’m afraid when it comes to you, I’ve never been
able to keep a grip on things.”

“That’s
very sweet.”
 
She sighed, wrapping her
arms around him.
 
“I’m sorry I called you
a fool.”

“Don’t
be.
 
Frankly, I call myself the same on a
fairly regular basis.
 
I even told you,
if you recall, that you were making a fool of me.”

“Are
you sorry now?”

“Terribly.
 
But that won’t stop me from telling you I adore you.
 
And it won’t stop me from wanting to take you
somewhere more private than this street and do unspeakable things I will
not
be sorry for later.
 
What have we
done,
brat?
 
And what are we going to do now
that we’ve gone this far?”

She
seemed to be thinking, her forehead still resting on his chest.
 
“Let’s go home,” she finally said
softly.
 
“There’s something I want to
show you.”

Slowly,
they turned together and started walking, he assumed in the direction of the
brownstone.
 
Left on his own, he was sure
he would have wandered in a daze for hours.
 
They had crossed into forbidden territory with those simple words of
love, ventured toward an impossible future, and yet he felt not fearful but
elated.
 
Strolling naturally with Peg’s
hand in his, the sun shining down on them as though blessing their irrationally
conceived union, he had to admit, he felt an overwhelming sense of completion.
 

 

Chapter
Twenty-five

 

The
house seemed to be empty.
 
Peg finally
located Adamson in his office and returned to report that her father had gone
out and was not expected in until after dinner and Mrs. Leary had taken the
afternoon off to visit a friend.
 
Grabbing his hand, she started up the stairs.

“Hold
on.
 
Where are you taking me?”

“To
the nursery.”
 
She tugged harder, pounding up the stairs
ahead of him.

“I
would ask.”
 
He rushed to catch up.
 
“Why the nursery?”

“There’s
someone I want you to meet.”
 
She started
up the second flight of stairs, tossing a grin over her shoulder.
 
“Besides, it’s the most private place in the
house.
 
No one ever goes in there but
me.”

“Ah.
 
Do I smell a trap?”

“Definitely.”
 
On the third floor landing now, she started running down the
corridor.
 
“I’m taking you to my inner
sanctum.
 
You can do all the unspeakable
things you want there, I promise.”
 
Laughter bubbled from her throat as she grabbed the knob and flung open
the door at the end of the hall.
 

Kendall
stopped in his tracks, stunned by the sight of literally hundreds of pairs of unblinking
eyes greeting him from every corner of the room.
 
“Good lord!”

“Aren’t
they wonderful?”
 
Peg twirled across the
painted floor, a work of art depicting a flower garden complete with lily pond
and stepping stones.
 

He took
his time surveying the rows of bears, lions, tigers, rabbits, horses and
assorted turtles, mice and frogs.
 
“Steiff?”

“Every
one of them.
 
Dad started on my first Christmas with a
Teddy bear, and every birthday and Christmas since, I’ve gotten something.
 
I started buying the little ones with my
allowance when I was six.
 
This fellow
was for my fourteenth birthday.”
 
She
swept around the room, touching first one and then another furry form, stopping
beside a large golden horse on wheels.
 
“I never cared much for riding and when all the other kids were getting
their own horses, I asked for one of these instead.
 
Now look behind you.”

A long
glass case behind the door was populated with at least three dozen exquisitely
crafted porcelain dolls, fairy tale characters, princesses and witches side by
side with fairies and nutcrackers.
 
A
two-foot-tall ballerina stood poised on point beside a bride in lace, her hands
full of silk roses.
 
Once again, all he
could manage was “Good lord!”

Peg
giggled.
 
“I suppose it’s a little bit
shocking the first time.”

Nodding
solemnly, he studied the dolls a moment longer.
 
“I’m pretty sure the unspeakable is out of the question now.
 
I wouldn’t dare touch you, not with all these
eyes on me.”

Grinning,
she approached the window and opened it wide.
 
“We’ll see.
 
Right now, I want to
introduce you to someone.”
 
He watched
from just inside the doorway as she went to the doll cabinet.
 
“You can sit down.
 
Take the armchair.
 
I’m not sure the little chairs would hold
you.”
 
Pointing to an adult-sized overstuffed
chair near the miniature dining set, she took a key from the top of the
cabinet.
 
“I used to lock them in because
I was afraid in the middle of the night they’d get out and hurt
themselves.
 
I believed that when no one
was watching, they came to life.”
 

Moving
to the chair, he sat cautiously.
 
The
room made him feel
large and clumsy, as though he’d entered
an enchanted dollhouse.
 
“Was this really
your nursery when you were a baby?”

“Oh,
yes.
 
I had a nanny, who slept right through
there.”
 
She indicated a door at the far
end of the room.
 
“I only slept here
until I started school.
 
But I’ve
probably spent more time in this room than anywhere else in the house.
 
I still like to come up here to read.”
 
Turning to him, she said ceremoniously,
“Kendall Gregg, meet Sir Galahad.”

The
doll, about eighteen inches tall, was dressed in velvet tunic, tights and what
looked to be fine leather boots, with a bejeweled sword belted around his
waist.
 
He was dark haired with blue glass
eyes, his handsome features set in a distinctly noble expression.
 
“Ah.
 
Delighted, I’m sure.”

Peg
knelt at his feet, the doll held gently to her chest.
 
Her mood changed visibly as she took a moment
to straighten its clothes and smooth the impeccably styled hair.
 
“I got him when I was ten.
 
I wasn’t sure about a boy doll then.
 
I never even named him.
 
He was originally just ‘Prince Charming,” or
something silly like that.
 
But when I
got back from Ireland that summer, he became my favorite.
 
He made me think of you, and he’s been Galahad
ever since.”
 
She hesitated, swallowing
hard.
 
“When Dad got sick, I spent most
of my time in here.
 
He was in the
hospital for weeks.
 
No one could tell me
if he was going to be all right, and I could see how worried everyone was, so I
just hid out up here.
 
If it hadn’t been
for Galahad, I don’t know who I would have talked to.”
 
She finally looked up, her gaze distant and thoughtful.
 
“I would imagine you coming to take care of
me.
 
I guess for the first time I
understood how alone I would be if something happened to my father, and you
were the only one I could think of to turn to.”
 
She looked down at the doll again.
 
“If he could talk, he’d tell you.
 
I spent a lot of time pouring my heart out to
him.
. .to you.”

In a
moment of startling revelation, Kendall saw the young girl he’d known,
understood her isolation in this grand house and her precarious situation
without Michael Shannon.
 
Deep in his
chest, something began to swell, altering his breathing and sending him to his
knees on the floor beside her.
 
Carefully, he took the doll from her hands and laid it aside.
 
“I’m sorry.”

“For
what?”

“I
wondered about you, but I never asked.
 
Selfishly,
I needed to think of you as safe and happy.
 
After you left, it took me months to stop worrying about you.
 
When I finally did, I refused to admit that
your life could be anything but privileged and perfect.
 
I was sure I had no right taking an interest
in you.
 
And in spite of what’s happened
here, I still haven’t that right.”

She
touched his face, her gaze following her fingers as they traced along his jaw.
 
When she lifted her eyes to his, he had to
look away.
 
That swelling in his chest
had become an almost unbearable ache.
 
“But
I’ll always have this, the time we’ve spent together.
 
You’ll never really leave me now.”

When
she came into his arms, he knew this time would be different.
 
What had been between them, the desire and
the excitement, had become something far more important.
 
Their lovemaking now would not merely satisfy
a momentary urge but create a sustaining memory.
 
When Peg’s fingers began to work their way downward,
tugging at his shirt and fumbling with buttons, he caught her hands firmly in
his.

“No.
 
Today we take our time.
 
We have all afternoon, right?”

She
nodded,
her eyes bright with anticipation.
 
“Yes.
 
But I want. . .”

“I know
what you want.
 
But you must let me give
it to you slowly.
 
I want to show you there’s
more to making love than tossing off our clothes and racing to the
finish.”
 

Her
impatience was tangible.
 
Her hands balled
into fists on his chest.
 
“All right.
 
Show me.”

At one
end of room was a narrow bed made up with simple white linens and piled with
ruffled pillows.
 
Getting to his feet,
Kendall pulled her up beside him.
 
“Will
that thing
hold
the two of us?”

“I’m
sure it will.”

“Lie
down.”

“Alone?”

“For
now.”
 
She obliged, kicking off her shoes and
stretching on the bed, arranging the pillows behind her head.
 
“Now close your eyes.”
 
When she studied him suspiciously, he smiled
down at her.
 
“Trust me?”

“I
suppose.
 
Do I get to peek now and then?”

“We’ll
see.”
 
He waited until her eyes were
tightly closed, then sat on the edge of the mattress beside her.
 
“May I kiss you?”

“Please
do.”

He
lifted her hand, kissing each fingertip, working his way to her wrist, up the
soft expanse of forearm, finally laying her hand on her chest and bending down
to touch his lips to her cheek.
 
When she
turned her face, he avoided her mouth, instead pressing a kiss to her
forehead.
 
Slowly, deliberately, he moved
along her hairline, breathing, brushing,
opening
his
lips to taste the slightly salty skin at her temple.
 
Bracing himself above her, he let one hand
hover at her waist, teasing her shirt from the waistband of her shorts.
 
At the first touch, she arched upward,
drawing her breath in a soft moan.
 
“Easy, love.
 
Just relax and
enjoy.”
 
She moaned again, exhaling
deeply.
 
“That’s better.
 
May I undress you, Peg?”

She
opened her eyes and he saw the flash of mischief in their blue depths.
 
“If I can do the same to
you.”

“Ah.
 
That’s the spirit.
 
But I’m in control today,
remember
?”

“Then
no, you cannot undress me.”
 
She thrust
out her lower lip in a provocative pout, closing her eyes again.
   

“Very
well.
 
It’s not a requirement, you know.”
 
Dropping his head to nuzzle aside her collar
and dip his tongue into the hollow of her throat, he whispered, “
There’s
still plenty of you to touch.”
 
When his fingers slid along the hem of her
shorts, brushing the silky flesh of her inner thigh, she jumped, her hands
clutching at his shirt.
 
“Relax, love.”
 
Raising his hand in the air, he grinned down
at her.
 
“Shall I stop touching you?”

“No!”
 
Her eyes flew open.
 
“No.”
 
With a long sigh, she forced herself deeper into the pillows.
 
“No.”

Now he
proceeded without interruption, delivering random caresses and kisses, sending visible
shivers of pleasure over her skin.
 
When
he finally took her mouth in a kiss at first sweet and probing, it grew rapidly
so intense that his own soaring arousal threatened to derail his efforts.
 
He stretched beside her, gathering her into
the protective bend of one arm.
 
“More?”

“Please.”
 
She took his hand, urging it toward her
chest.
 
“Please?”

“Not
yet, love.
 
Be patient.”
 
He kissed her again, cupping her face in his
palm.
 
When she would have rolled into
him, he pressed her back on the mattress.
 
“Not yet.”
 

Opening
his shirt, he took her hand and placed it against his chest.
 
“Tell me what you feel.”

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