Suspicions: A Twist of Fate\Tears of Pride (5 page)

“Good. Now, how about a cup of coffee?” he asked as he walked into the apartment and rubbed the chill out of his hands.

“Are you offering me one, or asking for one?”

Hearing the sarcastic tone of her voice, he cocked his head in her direction. “Are you angry with me already?”

Erin hadn’t realized until then that she
was
angry with him for setting her life off balance. “No…of course not. I didn’t mean to snap at you,” she apologized.

“Then you won’t mind if I use your phone?” he inquired. “I promised to call my daughter this morning, but I didn’t want to disturb her earlier.”

“The phone is in the bedroom,” she replied, and smiled at him for the first time that morning.

He excused himself and threw his jacket over the hall tree before he set off in the direction that she had indicated. Not wanting to intrude, she went into the kitchen and began brewing the coffee. The apartment was small, and it was impossible for her not to overhear part of his conversation, although she purposefully turned up the volume of the radio. The last thing she wanted to know about was Kane’s personal life. She had to try to keep things on a business level with him. Unfortunately even the classical music couldn’t drown out Kane’s voice as it rose in volume and unsuppressed anger.

“Krista! Don’t even suggest such a thing! I’ll be back in two weeks, and then we’ll move you up here…” There was a long pause, and then Kane’s voice softened. “I know how you feel, honey, honestly I do. But Dr. Richards thinks…” Another long pause. The conversation was extremely one-sided. “Look, Krista, I know that Aunt Sharon would like to have you stay until Christmas…. But the doctor and I think it would be best to get you into school here as soon as possible.” Silence. “We’ll talk about it later. Goodbye, honey.”

It was several minutes before Kane came out of the bedroom, and in that time the lines around his eyes had seemed to deepen. Although he managed a smile, Erin could see that it was forced. He was preoccupied and tense. Through the soft folds of the fabric of his lightweight sport shirt, Erin could see the contours of his muscles, and they were tight. He walked into the living room and stared out of the window without seeing.

There was something in the droop of his shoulders that made her want to reach out and place a comforting hand against his cheek. He was having problems with his adolescent daughter—that much was evident—and Erin wanted to soothe away some of the mental pain he was experiencing. But she hesitated and remained in the kitchen, dawdling over coffee that was already brewed. It was safer somehow, watching him from a distance, wishing that any pain that he might be feeling would disappear.

When at last he turned back to face her, some of the strain had left his face. He ran his gaze over the apartment, appearing to study its contents. At that moment Erin sensed that her life was laid bare to him. The dusty rose couch, her weathered volumes of Shakespeare, an array of slightly disheveled plants, the antique rocker—everything was explored by Kane’s cold gray eyes. It was as if, from the objects in the room, he could understand her and penetrate her soul. A part of her wanted to be examined by his eyes and touched by his mind, but another, more suspicious side of her objected to his appraisal.

Thoughtfully he picked up the discarded paperback mystery novel from the coffee table along with a worn volume of poetry by Keats. He opened the poetry book slowly and settled himself uncomfortably on the couch, with his long legs cramped under the coffee table. “You read this?” he asked, half to himself.

Erin poured the coffee but remained in the kitchen, still unsure of how to handle the conflicting emotions that surfaced each time she was alone with him. To answer his question she explained, “I read a variety of things, depending upon my mood.”

“So I see,” he agreed, eyeing the paperback spy thriller.

Suddenly she knew that she had made a mistake by seeing him in the intimacy of her own home. She felt too vulnerable, too transparent, too visible. Kane was alone with her, looking into the secret corners of her life, and unexpectedly she felt threatened. She had overheard part of his disagreement with his daughter, and she felt a desire to comfort him, and yet a need to turn her back on him and his problems. She couldn’t let his life get tangled with her own; hers was too complicated and too precarious. She had to work with him as an employee; she couldn’t let her emotions carry her away. She braced herself as she carried the two steaming mugs of coffee into the living room. “Kane,” she began, placing a cup near him, “I don’t think that it would be a good idea to go out today.”

“You want to stay in?” he asked, deliberately misinterpreting her. “That would be fine with me…. Thanks.” He reached for the cup and took an experimental sip while still watching her.

“No…I don’t want to stay here. What I mean is I don’t think that you and I should see each other…”

“Why not?”

“Because, for one thing, I make it a practice not to date anyone I work with.”

He smiled to himself. “Then obviously, you’re not as insecure about your job as you pretended to be yesterday. Wasn’t it just yesterday morning that you accused me of plotting to fire you, along with all the other employees of the bank?”

“You’re avoiding the issue,” she challenged, a feeling of exasperation beginning to wash over her. “I’m not up to playing word games this morning!”

“Then let’s be honest with each other, shall we? Why is it that you won’t go out with me?” he asked, his silvery eyes capturing hers.

How could she tell him what she herself really didn’t understand? Was it possible to explain that she felt a desire to be with him and an urge to run from him?

“Are you afraid of me?” His voice broke into her thoughts.

“No!”

“Well?”

“I just don’t think it’s a good idea to mix business with pleasure.”

“Then,” he seemed to agree, “let me assure you that you’ll have a very unpleasant afternoon!” He placed his cup down and smiled at her in a perfectly sickening and victorious manner.

“Be serious….”

“I am! So far, you haven’t given me any viable excuse for not spending a quiet afternoon together.”

“But I thought…”

“It doesn’t matter what you thought.” Kane reached for her hand across the table, stifling her protests. “I just want a chance to get to know you better. Is that such a crime?” His angled face was earnest and open. Any doubts she had conceived earlier were quickly cast aside with the touch of his hand on her palm and the peaceful serenity of his gaze.

“No…”

“Good! Then let’s go, shall we?”

She pulled her hand away from his and reached for her jacket. He pulled his legs from their bent position under the table, stood up and let his eyes roam over the apartment. His perusal was slow, steady and deliberate. Erin felt herself once again becoming more uncomfortable as the silent minutes passed.

“Do you like living here?” Kane finally asked, all of his attention drawn to the features of her face.

“Why do you ask?”

“I guess because this apartment house isn’t exactly what I expected.” He lifted his shoulders and shrugged into his jacket.

“Just what did you expect?” Erin was intrigued by the conversation. Perhaps if she could draw him out, he would explain his feelings about her and wash away those last traces of doubt that nagged at Erin’s mind. She could sense that there was something he wasn’t telling her. It was as if he was purposely being wary with her.

“Oh, I don’t know,” he began in answer to her question. “But this place—it seems a little out of character,” he remarked, looking at the faded Persian rug and running his fingers over the antique craftsmanship of the lead-glass windows.

“Out of character?”

“You’re a career woman, right?” he asked, and Erin nodded her head in agreement, all the while wondering what he was leading up to and somehow not wanting to know. “This apartment—for that matter, the entire building—just doesn’t fit with my interpretation of today’s liberated woman…”

“Why not?”

“Truthfully,” he chuckled, “because it looks like the set for one of those black-and-white slice-of-life movies of the forties.”

Erin arched an inquisitive black eyebrow. “And you expected smoked glass, chrome fixtures and black vinyl upholstery?”

“Something like that.”

“Sorry to disappoint you,” she quipped, leaning against the door.

“You haven’t disappointed me—not at all.” His eyes found hers for an instant, and then his gaze swept the loft. “I knew when I met you that there was a darker, more private side of you. A side that you prefer to keep hidden away. Am I right?” His hands came up to the door, pressing on the wood and creating an imprisoning barrier near her head.

Erin met his questioning gaze with defiance. He was too close to the truth, too close to her. She drew in a deep, trembling breath. “You’re right. I am a very private person, and I like it that way. What I don’t like is anyone coming into my home and attempting to psychoanalyze me!”

A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth, but his eyes revealed only arctic cold. His breath whispered across her face. “Is that what I’m doing?”

“I hope not,” she breathed, trying to still her racing heartbeat. Surely he could hear it—he was so near.

His finger reached out and stroked her cheek and his eyes covered her face and throat. “Maybe it would be a better idea to stay here today,” he suggested silkily, but abruptly changed his mind. “On second thought it might be too dangerous to stay here…come on. I don’t like being late.”

“Late? For what?”

“You’ll see…” There was just a hint of intimacy in his tone.

Erin pulled her jacket tightly around her shoulders, as if she were experiencing a sudden chill. “What have you got planned for today? Where are we going?” she demanded.

“You really don’t want to know!” He moved one of his hands and helped her with the light calfskin jacket. His fingers brushed against her arm and lingered. Or did they? She pulled abruptly away from him and cinched the belt securely over her waist.

“Of course I want to know! Where are you taking me?”

“Just come along. And don’t try to kid me. I haven’t known you very long, but believe me, I know you well enough to realize that you like surprises and mystery in your life.”

“I’d just like to know what makes you such an expert on me,” she muttered and reached for the door angrily. She was angry because he was correct in his assumption about her, but she hated to admit it. Before she could open the door, he grabbed her forearm and whirled her around to face him.

His eyes reached into the depths of hers. “You can’t hide from me, Erin,” he whispered. “I won’t let you.” She could feel herself trembling at his touch. Her lips parted, but the denial that was forming in her mind died.

He lowered his head slowly, and his lips melted into hers in a kiss that was soft, beckoning and full of promise. She found herself yearning to respond to the warmth and tenderness of the embrace, but she forced herself to pull away. If he had any questions about her reaction to him, he didn’t ask them. Instead he pulled her tightly against him and led her down the steep steps of the apartment building.

There were many thoughts that crossed her mind, and just as many questions that didn’t have answers. She ignored the flood of emotions that carried her out of the house and into the sleek black sports car. Kane helped her into the car and then slid into the driver’s seat. He started the engine and the sporty machine roared to life. Neither Erin nor Kane spoke, and the silence was as heavy as the gray Seattle fog, but Erin discovered an inner warmth that she didn’t know existed.

Chapter 4

Kane drove steadily toward the heart of the city, carefully maneuvering the sporty little car down the steep inclines of the hills in order to save the muffler on the roller-coasterlike grade. Through the fog the gray waters of Elliott Bay lapped lazily against the waterfront. As they crested a final hill Erin was able to see the wharf and the bustle of activity along the crowded and colorful piers.

After parking the car, Erin and Kane strolled on the boardwalk that flanked the water’s edge. Kane’s hands were pushed deep into his pockets and his gaze slid over the water. Salt spray brushed against Erin’s cheeks in a chilling embrace. Seagulls marauded the shore, calling out their lonesome cries. White, gleaming ferryboats plowed their way through the water, leaving only a frothy wake on the gray-blue waters as they disappeared into the fog.

Kane led Erin into a tiny bistro on the wharf. The warmth of the cozy restaurant was a welcome relief from the chill of the seawater and fog. They were seated at an intimate table near the window where they could watch the activities along the piers from the shelter of the bistro.

As the waiter brought the fresh seafood omelettes, Kane studied his empty coffee cup before looking into Erin’s eyes.

“I suppose that you overheard my conversation with Krista.” It was more of a statement than a question.

“Part of it.”

“Why didn’t you ask me about her?”

Erin met his gaze unwaveringly and noticed the rigid line of his jaw. Was he always so tense when he thought about his child, she wondered to herself. Aloud she responded, “I didn’t want to pry.”

Kane took a deep breath and looked out over the waters. He seemed to be wrestling with a weighty decision. Finally he turned his head back toward Erin. “Krista’s handicapped.”

A startled look threatened to possess Erin’s features, but she managed to make her voice steady. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“So am I,” he groaned and threw his napkin on his empty plate.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“Do you want to listen?” His face was a mask of indifference, as if he suddenly regretted his outward display of emotion.
No,
she wanted to scream.
I don’t want to know anything more about you. I’m attracted to you and I’m afraid of the attraction. I can’t learn anything more about you that might bind me more tightly to you. I have to push away from you…I have to.

“Of course I’ll listen,” she murmured, quieting the voice of suspicion that nagged at her.

“Krista is eleven. She was ten when the accident occurred.” A dark, faraway look crossed his features. As he continued, his voice was flat, betraying no emotion. It was almost as if the words were part of a well-rehearsed speech, devoid of feeling or life. “She was riding in the car with her mother, my ex-wife. They were going to some ‘retreat’ or ‘support group’ meeting for the weekend. I really don’t know much about it except it was the latest self-improvement seminar to be offered. Jana, my ex-wife, was forever following the latest self-improvement craze. It was one encounter group after another. Maybe I’m in part to blame for that too.”

Kane shook his head, as if clearing out unpleasant memories. Erin waited in silence as he continued.

“Anyway, it doesn’t matter what new kick she was on. It just so happened that she had called and told me where she was going. I was angry. I didn’t think that Krista needed to be exposed to all of that pseudopsychiatric garbage, and I told her so. We got into a helluva fight and she hung up on me. Two hours later I got a phone call from the police telling me that Jana was dead and Krista was in the hospital. To make a long story short, Krista’s been in and out of the hospital ever since. She’s still unable to walk unassisted.”

“She’s paralyzed?” Erin asked cautiously.

“Not exactly.” Kane’s eyes clouded for a minute. “It seems that she was lucky—nothing was actually broken in the accident. Jana was thrown out of the car and killed instantly, but Krista remained in the car, and other than a few cuts and bruises and a sprained left wrist, the doctors can find nothing physically wrong with her.”

“But…”

“I know.” Kane nodded his head. “It seems as if the cause of her paralysis is mental.”

“I don’t understand.” Erin’s brows knit in concern. What was Kane actually saying?

“I don’t either. But what I can gather from the doctors is that she blames herself, or perhaps me, for the accident.”

“No! That’s not fair!”

Kane shrugged his shoulders. “Why not? Maybe if Jana and I hadn’t fought, she would be alive today. Maybe the argument was the catalyst for her reckless driving.”

“You can’t blame yourself,” Erin argued.

“Then who can I blame?”

“No one. It was just an unfortunate accident…”

“Try explaining that to a ten-year-old girl who has just lost her mother.”

“Oh, Kane,” Erin sighed, and reached for his hand.

Her hand was warm and comforting, and for a moment Kane forgot that he suspected Erin O’Toole of thievery. What was it about her that had made him open up to her and tell her the story of Krista’s paralysis? Why was it so necessary that she know about him, that she care?

The waiter came to remove the dishes and bring the check. Kane helped Erin out of her chair and smiled disarmingly down on her. “I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I didn’t meant to bore you with my problems.”

“You didn’t bore me,” Erin admitted.

“Well, let’s push all those black thoughts aside for the day, shall we?” he asked, and took her hand powerfully in his. “I’m sure that when Krista gets up here and settles in, she’ll be fine.” Convincing as his words were, he didn’t seem to believe them himself.

It was nearly afternoon, and they hurried down the boardwalk to catch the Blake Island ferry to visit the Tillicum Indian Village. Once on the island, they were entertained by the folklore and art objects of the native inhabitants. Erin was fascinated by the blending of the modern and ancient cultures. The fog had lifted and the day was cool, but pleasant.

They spent the day hiking over the island and watching the everyday rituals of life in a tribal Indian village. Late in the evening Erin and Kane, along with the other tourists, were guests of the tribe and feasted on Indian baked salmon cooked in hot coals, as they had been for centuries. As twilight descended, the torches were lit, and Kane wrapped his arms possessively around Erin’s waist. They sat on the hand-carved stone steps of the amphitheater and watched the colorful display of folk culture as enacted by the inhabitants of the island. In the flickering light of the stars and the torches, Kane’s features looked stronger, more masculine. The scent of his cologne wafted over Erin, and involuntarily she pressed closer to him.

Darkness covered the island as the entertainment faded. Erin and Kane made their way back to the waiting ferry. The warm lights inside the vessel winked at them, but Kane led Erin onto the deck. The wind had become stronger, sending a salty spray into their faces as they stood on the deck of the boat and watched the sparkling lights of Seattle call to them across the narrow stretch of water.

Kane held Erin tightly, the power and warmth of his body molding to hers. During the day all of her defenses had melted. Ever since he had opened up to her and explained about his daughter, she had felt a kinship and warmth toward him. And the doubts that she had experienced were withering.

He stood behind her with the strength of his arms wrapped securely over her waist. They were silent as they watched the distance and felt the giant boat move through the black water. The engine of the large vessel whirred noisily and rhythmically and the darkened waters churned white as the ferry headed inland.

A light drizzle had begun, but Erin didn’t move, afraid to break the spell of the evening. Although the September nip in the air was cool, Erin was warm, pressed firmly against the heat of Kane’s body. It was as if they had made an unspoken pact that neither wanted to violate by speaking.

The drizzle increased into raindrops, and even the hardiest of the tourists shuffled into the interior of the ferry. Erin and Kane remained outside alone, content to feel the salty breeze against their faces and the heated promise of each other’s body. Kane nuzzled the back of her neck, letting the wind whip her hair over his face. She could feel her skin become alive with his touch, her blood begin to warm with his caress. Unconsciously she leaned closer to him.

He murmured her name, seeming to give it a special and intimate quality as it caught on the wind. She pivoted to face him and he cupped her chin in his hand before pressing the moist tenderness of his lips firmly over hers. She parted her lips involuntarily, letting his tongue trace a silken path over her mouth tentatively before slowly and sensuously exploring the moist recess and enticing her to do the same. He wrapped himself more closely around her as his tongue stroked and danced with hers.

The rain came down in silvery droplets, sliding over Kane’s face and past Erin’s cheek to her throat and finally to hide below the collar of her blouse. Kane’s kiss deepened and his hand moved gently but persistently against her back. His lips roved over her face and neck, kissing and licking the drops of rain from her eyes, cheeks and throat. An urgent moan escaped from his lips, and he finally pulled his face away from hers. His eyes slid over her body, seeming to probe every inch of her being. They had darkened to misty gray, and a pulsating passion was blazing in their dark depths.

A raindrop passed over Erin’s neck, and Kane stooped to kiss it away, his lips brushing over the hollow of her throat. She shuddered, more from his delicate kiss than from the cool night air. Her knees buckled and he pulled her to him, but a blast from the ferry’s horn announced that they were docking. All too soon the jewellike lights of the city had blossomed into streetlamps, and the intimate water journey was over.

They walked back to the car in silence, each absorbed in private thoughts. Erin wondered how she could possibly work for a man she needed so passionately as a woman. And what about his daughter, who blamed him for his wife’s death? And Mitch—could she bring up the subject of Mitch’s dismissal with Kane, or would it be the wedge that would come between them? For, as unlikely as it seemed, Erin was unwittingly beginning to look upon herself and Kane as a man and woman with a deep understanding of each other.
But that’s crazy,
the realistic side of her mind argued.
You don’t even know the man.

And Kane wondered about Erin. Could this enigmatic and beautiful woman really be a viable suspect in the embezzling scheme? She seemed so…innocent, if that was the right word. It was so easy to talk with her; he had already confided in her concerning Krista. That was probably a mistake, he thought now. But for the moment he didn’t want to believe anything about Erin other than what he felt. She was bewitching and he meant to find out all he could about her—tomorrow. Tonight he just didn’t give a damn whether she was embezzling or not.

The black sports car whipped through the quiet streets, sending sprays of water as its tires slashed pools of standing water. The windshield wipers moved in tempo, pushing the raindrops off the glass. Night closed in on Erin as the black interior of the car seemed to melt into the darkness of the evening.

Erin’s senses were heightened. In the warmth of the enclosed sports car, she could smell the tangy scent of Kane’s cologne and the masculine essence of his rain-drenched body. For the entire short ride Erin was aware of the man next to her. As he shifted gears, she could see the long hard lines of his fingers and the athletic slant of his legs straining against the fabric of his pants. She had trouble concentrating on anything other than his potent masculinity.

As they approached the apartment house, he killed the engine and sat motionless, his hands still gripping the steering wheel. He glanced toward the windows of Erin’s third-floor apartment.

Erin cleared her throat. “Would you like to come in? For a drink—or a cup of coffee?”

He rotated to face her, and even in the darkness she imagined flames of smoldering passion burning in his eyes. “I’d like it very much.”

He opened the door for her and they walked up the long staircase noiselessly. Although they didn’t touch, Erin felt a bond between them bridging the inches of open air that separated their bodies. She licked her arid lips as she reached into her purse for her keys. Many emotions had come and gone since he had hurried her out of the apartment this morning. God, was it only twelve hours ago? Erin had hesitated only slightly when she thought about asking him up to her apartment. She knew how precarious it was for her to be alone with him, but she couldn’t resist extending the invitation and the evening. Mrs. Cavenaugh had been right; she had hidden herself away from the world of men for much too long.

Her fingers shook as she tried to unlock the door, and Kane took the keys from her hand. He escorted her through the doorway and into the small apartment. Erin went through the motions of taking off her jacket, but her mind was on Kane and the intimacy of the apartment. There was no place to hide. “Could—I offer you a drink?”

He took off his jacket and let it fall casually across the arm of the couch. “Sure.”

Erin moved into the kitchen and opened the liquor cabinet, but her thoughts didn’t leave Kane. Although he was in the living room, the air was charged with electricity and anticipation. It was difficult to think, to move. Why had she asked him up to her loft, and why had he accepted?

She managed to put together some Irish coffee, and the cups were steaming as she carried them into the living room. Kane was standing at the window, looking into the night as if he could penetrate the darkness. His shirt was moist and clung to his body, and the ripple of his muscles was evident through the fabric.

When she entered the room, he turned to face her. His face was ragged, torn with emotion, and she knew that he was as tense as she. “Anything wrong?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he whispered, but the besieged look on his face didn’t disappear. “Thanks,” he said with a tight-lipped smile and sampled the hot drink.