by Lisa Jackson
Silence. Incriminating silence.
“Look, Lee, do us both a favor and don’t call back—ever! We’ve been through this scene too many times, and I for one won’t repeat it ever again. It’s too hard on me and it’s too hard on you.”
“Erin, baby, listen to me…”
He was still talking when she hung up the phone. Hastily she brushed back the tears and attempted to recapture the sense of exhilaration she had felt before she answered the phone. Why did he insist on calling? There was only one reason, the same one that she’d heard in the past: money. Damn! How could she get him out of her life once and for all?
Erin pushed her wayward thoughts aside and dashed out to her car. Soon she would be with Kane alone. Soon everything would be all right, as it should be, and she would be able to forget about Lee, the telephone call, the past.
* * *
The Tattered Sail had a reputation for being one of the best restaurants in the Northwest for fresh seafood, and tonight Erin found the rumor to be true. Once in the intimate old, barnlike structure, Erin could feel herself beginning to relax. The atmosphere was smoky and dark, and Erin was sure that if she listened closely, above the light contemporary music and the quiet chatter of the patrons, she would be able to hear the waters of the sound lapping quietly against the pier that supported the restaurant.
The succulent house specialty, fresh Dungeness crab in a tangy sauce, was superb, and the sparkling bottle of chilled champagne that Kane had ordered added just the right touch of elegance to the otherwise casual Pacific Coast cuisine. The dimmed lanterns, the massive ship’s rigging that covered the walls and ceilings and the view of the inky water of Puget Sound all served to enhance the romance and intimacy of the evening. Erin ate quietly, entranced by the setting and her powerful feelings for Kane. His eyes, two dark silver orbs, never left her face, and the smile on his face spoke more clearly than words of the depths of his feelings for her.
Somehow he seemed to have shaken off the tension that had been boiling within him for the past few days. All the heavy undercurrents that were usually evident in his eyes had disappeared, at least for the night. The dinner was a thoroughly enjoyable experience, and Erin found herself unwinding as she hadn’t since the weekend in the San Juans. They talked little and spoke mostly with their eyes, but Erin did mention that she had brought Krista the kitten, and Kane seemed more than pleased when he heard about his daughter’s affection for the little black cat. The tender light that illuminated his face when he spoke of Krista touched Erin’s heart.
The romance of the evening extended past dinner, and as they drove home together in her small car, Erin was overwhelmed by just how desperately she had grown to love the man sitting next to her. She couldn’t deny to herself that she loved him with an unspoken passion that was consuming in its intensity. For the first time in weeks she wondered if, indeed, she and Kane and Krista might have a future together. Everything seemed to be falling into place. Perhaps someday, given enough time and affection, Kane could learn to love her. The little car climbed the hill that supported the Victorian apartment house. Its broad-paned windows winked cheerfully in the night.
As she shut off the engine, Erin felt the warmth of Kane’s hand when it covered hers. “Let’s not go in, not just yet,” he suggested in a husky voice.
“But Krista…” The protest was feeble. Already she could feel the heat of desire beginning to warm her.
“She’s fine,” Kane assured her, and pushed a wayward wisp of her hair back into place. “She and Mrs. Cavenaugh planned to sit up and watch old movies all night long.”
“But don’t you think we should check on her?”
“In a minute,” he insisted, and his face moved closer to hers. The warmth of his breath, laced with the clinging vapors of champagne, whispered over her face. “I’d just like to spend a few more minutes alone with you…” His fingers reached out and traced the curve of her cheek, the length of her throat, the neckline of the dress. Erin’s breath began to constrict in her chest, it became ragged as she breathed. His hand found the slit in her dress and moved gently, heatedly against her inner thigh.
“Kane,” she gulped, seeing the undying passion in his gaze. “I…we…can’t possibly, not here….”
“Shhh…” he commanded, and rimmed her lips with his tongue. She was melting in his embrace, feeling herself begin to blend with him. “Walk with me,” he suggested intimately. “The night’s warm, and so am I.”
His lips found hers, and he nibbled at them gently, persuasively. His hand moved in sensuous circles against her thigh. “Well,” she agreed, her eyes closing, “a walk…a short one…”
He was right, she thought raggedly as they walked together in the clear October evening. Was it the night itself or Kane’s presence that made it seem so special, so eternal? The cool nip of fall was in the air, and yet, under the stars winking in the ethereal moon glow, Erin was warm despite the season. Even in the half light, she could see the spiraling vapor of Kane’s breath as it mingled with the chilly night air.
He held her hand tightly, as if he were afraid that his grasp would slip and that he might lose her in the shadows. It was a wonderful, exotic feeling; his magnetic touch and the magic of the night wound together. Erin felt drugged as together they made their way to the gazebo in the backyard. It was old and in sad disrepair. But against the backdrop of the clear night, its flaws hidden by the darkness and the stand of fir trees near the worn steps, it seemed intimate and regal with its undisturbed beauty of another era. Silently Kane helped her up the two weathered steps, and she felt herself begin to tremble.
“From the first time I saw this place, I knew that I wanted to make love to you here,” he stated. The silver moon glow was reflected in the intensity of his gaze, and his head bent down slowly and seductively to find her chilled lips. He crushed her against his chest with a savage urgency that seemed to be ripping him apart. “Make love to me, Erin,” he pleaded. “I don’t think I can stand another moment of this agony. Touch me, love me!” His lips wet a trail of desire leading from her lips down her throat, to nestle hotly against her partially exposed breast. Once there he paused to moan, “God, I want you!” Her breathing began to come in short, uneven breaths in the cold night air. Kane fell to his knees and continued to press the warmth of his face against the frail fabric that covered her abdomen. “Love me,” he commanded as his hands moved in circular seductive movements against her hips, and she felt the smooth fabric of the silk dress sweep gently upward to brush against her thighs.
“I want you, too,” she whispered huskily, and her hands wound themselves in the thick strands of his hair. “Oh, Kane. I need you so much!” she confessed.
“I know,” he murmured. Erin felt the cold shudder of autumn pierce her skin as the zipper of her dress was lowered and the silky fabric parted to expose her back and shoulders. The dress slipped to the floor of the gazebo, and Kane’s gentle hands and mouth caressed her exposed skin, raining hot moist kisses against her flesh. He dragged her down to lie beside him and tentatively touched one rounded breast with the delicacy of a sculptor. An animal growl escaped from his throat as he watched her, and in wet, heated strokes, his tongue found the ripeness of her nipples.
His mouth seared against her skin, and his tongue licked and pressed hot moistness against her body. She felt the warmth of her desire spread from her innermost core through all of her body. Rivers of passion ran in her veins, and desire, hot and molten, pounded against her temples. She felt tides of feverish passion wash over her until she wanted to drown in its molten embrace. Despite the cool of the evening, a dusting of perspiration covered her body. On their own, without conscious thought, her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, the zipper to his slacks, the proud hardness of his desire. She arched her body heatedly against his, aware only of her agonizing love for him.
His lips teased and satisfied her, toying with her until she thought she would go mad, only to arouse her to still-untouched heig
hts. His eyes, smoldering in the night, took in all of her: the look of yearning in her large luminous eyes, the way her provocative tongue continued to flick against her lips, the full, rounded breasts with nipples proudly erect, and her soft, sensuous hips, inviting him to explore her more intimately. He thought he would lose all control in the instant she arched against him, and he wanted to give in to his virile male urge to take her. God, he’d waited so long, and he felt a need, strong and inflexible, to make love to her, but he forced himself to wait, somewhat impatiently, caught up in the heat of his lovemaking, until he was certain she was ready for him.
Erin wondered if she would fall apart and crumble into fiery bursts of passion as Kane lowered himself onto her. With a sigh of long-denied pleasure, she wound her arms and legs around him, entrapping him and tempting him to make love to her. He could resist no longer.
“Oh, God, Erin. You’re so beautiful, I need you…”
His words trailed off into the night in an unspoken confession as he found his way to her. In the shadow of the gazebo, his hot pulse at war with the cool night, he watched her as he loved her, and he saw the heat of desire blossom into the ecstasy of satisfaction. Together they found a love so exquisite that he knew it could never be recaptured. Only his own traitorous duplicity marred the perfect enchantment that he knew as he fell against her and felt the warmth of her breasts flatten against his weight.
It was several minutes before he spoke, as if he were unable to break the peaceful spell of enchantment that covered them. When at last he broke the silence, it was to murmur her name over and over in the night, as if trying to impress her memory upon his lips. It was so difficult to say all the things that he wanted so urgently for her to know. And the questions that had to be asked plagued him. He knew that it was time for explanation and discussion. Too much was at stake to continue to hide behind the truth. He needed her so desperately, yet his duplicity was eating at him. The fear of losing her gripped him more savagely each day. It was time for something to be done.
“What is it?” Erin asked suddenly, staring at the dread in his eyes. Once again she sensed the wariness had appeared, and the knowledge frightened her. She had hoped that all Kane’s reservations had melted away. Shivering more from Kane’s obvious apprehension than from the coolness of the night, she felt the same cold doubts crawl up her spine. He noticed the chill, rolled off her and pulled his jacket lightly over her shoulders.
His hands trembled as they pressed against her face. “Marry me, darling,” he whispered in a voice dry with emotion. For a moment Erin’s heart turned over. Her first impulse was to throw her arms around his neck and confess the depth of her love, but something in his face made her pull the reins in on her excitement.
“What?” she asked quietly, looking deeply into his eyes for the trace of love she hoped to find.
“I’m asking you to marry me. Now—as soon as possible,” he clarified, and pressed her fingers against his lips. “We need to be together.”
She wanted to accept his proposal, to take part in the elation that was beginning to burst in her veins. But there was the strong scent of accusation that hung between them and made her pause.
“I would love to marry you,” Erin breathed, trying to think rationally. The stars, the moon, the wind of the night were all closing in on her, and she found it difficult to concentrate on anything but the feelings of love that were swelling in her veins. “You must know that….”
“Then, get packed. We’ll fly to Reno tonight—or early in the morning. The sooner the better.” He began to slide into his pants in his urgency to persuade her.
“We have time….”
“No!” he nearly shouted. And then, in a somewhat calmer voice, he continued, “No—we don’t have any time.”
“But, Kane,” she argued, fearing the continuation of the discussion, but unable to stop herself. “You have to put certain things into perspective. We have to take Krista’s feelings into consideration—surely you can understand that. And the bank—”
“Erin!” He grabbed her shoulders roughly, and forced her to look up at him. His grip tightened on her forearms, and his face was a harsh mask of determination. “It’s got to be soon. You know that.”
“Why? We have the rest of our lives…”
“No, we don’t!” he snapped. “Don’t you understand?” His eyes were shadowed by the darkness of the gazebo, but Erin could feel the pain and torture of his words without being able to probe his desperate gaze. Why was he so insistent? A cold strange feeling passed over her, transferred from him by the urgency of his forceful grasp on her upper arms.
With an unsteady voice, she asked, “Kane, just what is it that you’re trying to say?”
“I’m asking you to be my wife, pure and simple. Is that so difficult to understand?”
She wasn’t convinced. “There’s more, isn’t there? Has it got something to do with Krista, because she’s already made it plain to me that she doesn’t have room in her life for a ‘new mother.’” In the blackness Erin tried to read the expression on Kane’s face. Hoping to find love, she was disappointed. A cloud passed over the moon, and once the pale light was restored, she found his eyes torn with an emotion she couldn’t understand. She tried to draw away from him but still he held her desperately, passionately.
Slowly the grip on her forearms relaxed, and resignation covered Kane’s features. “Get dressed,” he commanded softly. “And then I promise you we’ll talk.”
Hurriedly she did as he instructed her, running her panty hose in her hasty efforts. Was it the chill of the night that made her shudder, or the cold look of determination heightening the masculine angles of Kane’s face that cooled her blood?
As she was smoothing the silk dress over her hips, he began to speak in a distant voice that was dry with dread.
“When I was in California,” he started, stepping away from her and pacing the length of the gazebo, “some more money was embezzled from the dividend account…three thousand dollars to be exact.” He whirled to face her, and his guarded eyes found hers. The expression on her face was one of confusion.
“I don’t understand—I thought that Mitch was the suspect….”
He cut off her conjecture. “Of course he’s the prime suspect, but it’s become apparent that he has an accomplice in the department!”
“No!” she gasped.
“Yes!”
Her voice was faint, barely a whisper. “But who?”
“Why don’t you tell me?” he suggested, his voice taking on the quality of a smooth courtroom lawyer.
“But I don’t know.”
“Don’t you?” Accusation singed his words.
“No…I can’t imagine….” She was so taken aback by his supposition of an accomplice for Mitch that she hadn’t noticed the suspicion in his eyes, the way his arms crossed over his chest, the grim hard angle of his jaw. But now, after the shock of his statement had dissipated, she knew what he was thinking.
“You’re not…you couldn’t be,” she was stammering, but she couldn’t control herself. Slowly she stood up and watched the play of emotions that rampaged over his face. “I don’t believe that you would think I could somehow be involved. You wouldn’t be suggesting anything like that…would you?” Before the anger took hold of her, disbelief and agony tortured her eyes.
“Why don’t you explain…”
“No!” She stamped a bare foot on the thin floor of the gazebo. “I don’t have to explain anything to you….” Tears burned in her eyes, but she tilted her head defiantly in spite of them. As they began to flow slowly down her face, they caught the moonlight in tiny rivers of outrage. “Are you accusing me of embezzlement?” Her voice was as chilling as the wind that rustled the leaves overhead.
“Erin,” he said in a calm voice devoid of emotion. “I just want to know the reason for certain facts….”
“Facts? You mean evidence? I don’t believe it. You don’t have any evidence—you couldn’t, just an o
veractive and suspicious imagination!”
He tried to interrupt, but she wouldn’t let him. “I wondered, from the beginning, why all the questions about Mitch, why all the vague insinuations and especially why you would look at me the way you did. But I must have been a fool, a damned idiot, not to have put two and two together.” She took a gasp of cold autumn air, only to find that her entire body was quivering with rage and betrayal. “How can you stand there and accuse me, after all that we’ve shared together? Oh, Kane—why?”
“If you could just be reasonable.”
“Reasonable?” she shrieked, and then laughed from the tension that was capturing her in its angry claws. “Reasonable? How can you expect me to be ‘reasonable’ after you ask me to marry you and accuse me of a crime I didn’t commit?”
“Erin, don’t make this any harder than it already is,” he pleaded, and leaned against a beam that supported the roof. “I can’t ignore the facts, as much as I’d like to. I know that you need money—the employee loan application states as much—”
A protesting sound gurgled in her throat, but he ignored it.
“And your ex-husband, Lee Sinclair—” the name came out in a snarl of disapproval “—you loaned him money once, and he’s back in town.”
“How?”
“It doesn’t matter.” He shook his head, and continued in a flat, dry voice. “And there was the securities key discrepancy. You were one of the people who had access to the bearer bonds that were taken, and suddenly, somehow, you find the money to paint the apartment house and fix it up for the winter. An odd set of circumstances, wouldn’t you say?”
“Exactly that, circumstances,” she commented indignantly.
“That first morning in the bank I found you alone in your office. You had the perfect opportunity….”
“Enough!” she stammered, and started down the two weathered steps of the gazebo. “I’ve heard enough.” She paused for a minute, her hands supporting her weight on the railing. “What I don’t understand is why, if you suspected me from the start, you didn’t tell me—or ask me? Didn’t you have the decency to respect my innocence and ask me about all those ‘facts’?”
