“Dance?” he said, and stepped closer, offering his arms. She watched him a single instant, there in the moist darkness, then she put out her hand and let him draw her close.
Perfect.
They fitted together like yin and yang, nut and bolt, plug and socket. For a single, stunned instant, Kane was beyond thought or intention, certainly beyond judgment. The darkness deepened around them. The mist from the rain that sifted down stronger now beyond their cover was warm.
Regina swallowed, an audible sound in the stillness. Voice stilted, she said, “It’s a lovely party.”
“It is,” he agreed in deep tones, torn between sympathy and amusement for her obvious nervousness. Inhaling as he collected his own scattered thoughts, he said, “You seem to hit it off with April.”
“She’s easy to talk to, a nice person, very real. But then, everyone is so open and friendly that I’m…overwhelmed.”
“Somebody been asking too many personal questions?” he queried in dry humor.
“Oh, it isn’t that. I just keep wondering why they aren’t more self-protective, why they aren’t afraid people will take advantage of them.”
There was a note in her voice that intrigued him. “Who would do that?”
“I don’t know. Somebody, anybody.”
“You think they’re naive, is that it?”
“Maybe,” she agreed hesitantly, “a little.”
“You’re wrong. They know very well there are people in this world with hidden agendas. They only prefer to believe everyone is aboveboard until they prove otherwise. But once a person trespasses, there are few second chances.”
She put a little space between them as they swayed to the music. “Is that your philosophy, too?”
“You could say so, up to a point.”
“The point being that you aren’t half so trusting as most? Or half as forgiving?”
He was silent a moment, turning her words over in his mind. Was she right? It was possible. Still, the lawyer in him automatically took the offensive. “I thought that was your role.”
“Mine?” she asked, her expression suspended there in the dimness. “What makes you say that?”
“You’re still holding a grudge over the coffin.”
“Not at all.”
“No?” he queried, the word husky as he stepped close and caught her against him. “Then I suppose you didn’t mind this, either?”
She shivered as he lowered his lips to hers, for he felt it. Whether it was from pleasure or disgust was impossible to say. Then he ceased to care as he was lost in the warm honey taste of her, the satin-smooth surfaces of her mouth, and the startling magic of her skin against his own. It was a homecoming, a physical fusing of hollows and planes so exact, so consummate, that his mind reeled with the need for more.
He delved deeper, growing feverish with the tantalizing textures and sleek abrasion of his tongue against hers. Intent vanished, leaving only pure sensation that spiraled into impure instinct. His grasp tightened and he pressed closer. He couldn’t get near enough, not with layers of clothing and civilization between them. He would never be near enough until they were alone somewhere and he was inside her, matching his hard urgency to her hot, wet softness, his strength to her willing welcome.
She moaned in distress. That low sound struck him like a bucket of cold water. He dragged air into his lungs, then released her and stepped back in a single sharp movement designed to keep himself from clinging. He came up against the opposite side of the doorway. Setting his backbone against it, he clenched his hands into fists, then slowly, carefully, relaxed.
Voice hoarse, he said, “You did mind.”
“I was just surprised.”
He tested the breathless quality of her voice and its quiver, then shook his head. “No, or at least that’s not all of it. What I want to know is why did you come out here with me if my company is so repulsive?”
“It’s not. You don’t understand.” She swung away, hugging her arms across her chest.
It was barely possible, he conceded. There had been a few seconds when he felt her response. It was, just possibly, what had driven him over the edge. But he also remembered her shudder.
“I don’t believe you,” he said with deliberation.
“You wouldn’t, of course. Everything is cut-and-dried with you, yes or no, right or wrong, isn’t it? You were born to such comfort and privilege that you have no idea of the complications of other people’s lives or the things that move them in ways you can’t begin to understand.”
“So what moved you just now?” he said in trenchant willingness to be convinced.
She turned her head to stare at him. Before she could speak, however, there came a small explosion from down beside the lake. Suddenly, the night sky burst into brilliant light. It spread, exploding into colors of red and blue and gold that went off with rocket blasts, then sprinkled down in shooting stars falling toward their own reflections in the rain-dimpled surface of the lake beyond the open doorway. It was Roan setting off Luke’s fireworks before the rain made them useless. In their glow, he saw pain darkening Regina’s eyes, and limitless despair.
He whispered her name, stepping toward her in alarm.
“No!” she cried with the tightness of tears in her voice. She whirled from him then, running through the falling raindrops and sprinkling stars of fireworks, back toward the house.
Kane took a step after her, then stopped, afraid he would only make things worse. At least he knew now that it had not been the coffin alone that she had hated. He swung around, bracing himself stiff-armed against the gazebo column as he muttered a heartfelt curse.
“Lost your touch, Counselor?”
Luke followed his question out of the darkness. Stopping near the gazebo entrance, he followed the burst of another rocket overhead before turning to look at Kane.
“Who says I ever had one?” Kane asked in rough tones.
“You used to have finesse. At least enough not to scare off your women.”
Kane heard the undercurrent of censure in the other man’s voice. He didn’t much care for it. “You don’t know anything about it.”
“I know women are fine company if you don’t treat them as if they’re on the witness stand and you’re the prosecution, judge and jury in a neat wad.”
“That wasn’t the problem,” he answered shortly. “Regina was fine as long as we were fighting tooth and nail.”
Luke was silent a moment. When he spoke again, there was repressed amusement in his voice. “She wasn’t thrilled with the cease-fire? Dixieland delight didn’t go over too well?”
“Something like that.” Kane rolled a moody shoulder.
“A fine old custom, making out in the gazebo, but you must be rusty.”
“Apparently.”
Luke tilted his head back, a shadowy movement as he followed yet another rocket barrage whistling heavenward to blossom into red and yellow. “She’s getting under your skin, isn’t she?”
Kane gave him a hard stare. “Don’t you have better things to do than meddle in my business? Like minding your fireworks?”
“It’s under control,” Luke said with offhand confidence. “You know, I could give you some competition.”
“This isn’t a sporting event.” It was a warning.
Luke shook his head. “Sure it is, Kane, the oldest on record. You just lost heart a while back and dropped out. But that doesn’t mean no one else is on the field or keeping score.”
“I mean it,” he insisted. “Regina isn’t…”
“What?” His cousin waited for him to go on.
“I don’t know.” Kane closed his hand into a fist as he tried to find words for a situation he didn’t quite understand himself. “There’s something about her, something that needs time.”
“Time and a slow hand? I happen to have both.”
Kane felt the hair on the back of his neck rising to a bristle. Through clenched teeth, he said, “Leave her alone, Luke. I mean it.�
�
“Listen to yourself, man. You sure your interest is business?”
“I know what mine is. I’m just wondering about yours.”
“Pure devilment. What else?” Dry humor had returned to his cousin’s voice.
Kane shook his head even as he forced down the possessive urge to stake a claim. “You’ve got a point. What is it?”
“Maybe I’m worried about you,” Luke answered as he turned and ambled back toward the house, sublimely careless of the misting rain.
“You sure it’s not Regina on your mind?” The question Kane called after him was blunt.
“Might be. Might not.”
Kane let him go since it was pointless to do anything else. Luke was like a force of nature, hard to second-guess, impossible to stop once he got an idea into his head. The only good thing was that his instincts were excellent.
The things he had said turned in Kane’s mind as he watched the explosions of bottle rockets and boom blasters light up the raindrop-fogged sky. Some of the phrases he rejected, some he filed for future reference, but a few he sifted word by word for hidden meaning. It did no good. As the last bright fire blossom faded into nothing, he was no closer to the truth than he had been when the evening began.
He returned to the party, but it was already winding down, dampened by the rain. Pops and Miss Elise were among the first to leave. He saw them to their car with a doorman’s big umbrella, then went back inside with Roan and Luke and a couple of other guys to have a beer and talk about ice hockey in the Superdome and who would be starting quarterback for the New Orleans Saints in preseason. They were working on their third long neck and second bowl of peanuts when Roan’s beeper went off. The sheriff heaved his long frame to a standing position and stepped out onto the gallery, taking out his flip phone from a shirt pocket as he went. The discussion, such as it was, went on without him.
A moment later, Roan stalked back inside. Kane glanced up, saw the set look of officialdom on his cousin’s face, and felt his gut tighten in immediate reaction. He was already on his feet when Roan jerked his head in a beckoning gesture. Kane set his beer on a side table and went to join him.
“Sorry,” his blond cousin said, putting a big hand on his shoulder. “It’s Pops. There’s been an accident.”
Kane felt his heart jerk in his chest. “Is he…?”
“He’s alive, but that’s all I know. Come on, we’ll go in my squad car. I’ll have you there in five minutes.”
“I might need my own wheels. You clear a path and I’ll keep up with you.”
“You got it.”
When Kane and Roan pulled up at the site of the wreck, it was only a blur of glaring lights, flashing blue and white in the rain-drenched darkness. They had beaten the ambulance. Pops was lying on the wet ground with his head in Elise’s lap while she held a pathetic, half-crushed umbrella over him with one hand and smoothed his cheek with the other. Roan stopped to speak to the patrolman in charge, but Kane strode straight to his grandfather and went down on one knee beside him.
“Pops,” he said tightly, “I’m here.”
Lewis Crompton opened his eyes, his gaze bewildered yet angry. His voice was querulous and frighteningly weak as he spoke. “Damn fool ran me off the road.”
A strong mixture of relief, grief and anger tightened Kane’s throat. Roan had said Pops was alive, but Kane had needed to see for himself before he believed it. He didn’t like the looks of the dark red blood that matted his grandfather’s mane of white hair, or the flaccid immobility of his arm that lay across his chest. Still, he would be taken care of soon. The wailing of an ambulance siren could be heard in the distance.
Kane cleared his throat of its sudden obstruction. “Who was it, Pops? Who did this?”
“Don’t know.” His grandfather grimaced and pressed a hand to his ribs. “All happened so fast.”
Elise broke in then, as if to spare him the effort. “The car came up from behind us and started to pass. We mostly saw headlights. I think it was dark colored and a fairly late model, but I don’t know one kind from another these days. I’d like to be more helpful, but…” She gave a tired shake of her head.
“You’re all right?” Kane asked, his gaze assessing as he turned his attention to his grandfather’s lady friend.
She nodded. “Lewis swung the car so it struck the trees on the driver’s side. He saved me.”
Kane’s grandfather gave a dissenting grunt. “She’s the one who saved me. Reminded me to put on my seat belt.”
“No such thing,” Miss Elise said.
Lewis Crompton reached up to take her hand. “I know better.”
That they could argue over it said a lot for their condition, Kane thought, feeling his concern ease a fraction more. They were both banged up and would feel their scrapes and bruises for some time, but it could have been worse. Much worse.
The ambulance came tearing up and shrieked to a halt. The driver and the EMT piled out and hustled toward them. Short minutes later, Pops and Elise were speeding on their way to the hospital. Kane followed behind Roan at a faster clip than he’d driven since his racing days.
The next three hours passed in a surreal time warp, moving with both excruciating slowness and incredible speed. At the end of that time, the report was fairly decent. Pops had a broken arm and cracked ribs, plus multiple contusions and abrasions. They wanted to keep him a couple of days but, barring some unforeseen problem, he would be fine.
Miss Elise was fixed up with a couple of butterfly bandages before being released to go home. She wanted to stay with Lewis, but he wouldn’t hear of it. Kane thought she finally agreed to leave only because she didn’t want to upset his grandfather by going against his wishes.
Kane drove her home. At her house on the edge of town, he opened his car door to get out and see her inside. She reached over to touch his arm. Voice tremulous, she said, “Wait.”
“What is it?” Something about the way she searched his face with her faded gaze, in the greenish light from the control panel, made his heart kick into a faster rhythm.
“There’s something I need to tell you. I know I should’ve mentioned it to Roan for his report, but I just wasn’t sure….”
“Something about the accident?” he asked to help her get whatever she wanted to say out in the open.
She dipped her head with its soft silver wings of hair. “Everything was muddled. I couldn’t think straight until I knew Lewis was going to be all right.” She stopped, pressing her lips together until they were white.
He put his hand over her cold, frail fingers that still clutched his arm. “Just tell me. I’ll sort it out.”
She took a fortifying breath. “The first time that car crowded us was at the old bar pit. You know where I mean?”
Kane nodded in grim acknowledgment. The bar pit was a deep slough left behind after sand and gravel were excavated for roadwork. Any hole in the ground in Louisiana inevitably filled with water. The bar pit was a death trap nearly thirty feet deep that had claimed more than one victim. If Pops and Miss Elise had gone off into it, their chances of surviving the plunge would have been slim to nonexistent.
“Lewis swerved, or we would have gone through the guardrail. The next time, he—he couldn’t stay on the road. And then…” She put the fingers of her free hand to her mouth, staring straight ahead with her eyes wide.
“What? Tell me.”
“I was so shaky, trying to get out of the seat belt to see to Lewis. Then there was the rain. The man driving the other car stopped down the road from where he ran us off, then he reversed and stopped on the road above us. At first, I thought he meant to help. He got out and started back toward us. I thought…but it was dark except for his taillights and I wasn’t seeing or thinking too clearly. I was so worried about Lewis, too, because he was unconscious for three or four minutes right after we hit.”
“Miss Elise, please.” Urgency made Kane’s voice husky.
She turned her hand in his and clasped
it tight. “He had a gun, dear. I’m sure of it. For a minute, I just knew he meant to—”
“Don’t think about it. Just tell me what happened.”
She gasped, shook her head as if to banish a bad dream. “Then a truck came over the rise, a big eighteen-wheeler. The man ran back to his car and tore off like hell’s hounds were after him.”
“Did you get a look at him?”
“I don’t know. It was so dark.”
“Was he short, tall, fat, skinny, white or black, wearing a hat or not?” Kane asked in grim concentration. “Can you remember anything? Anything at all?”
She blinked as she met his gaze. Then she said, “Not short or tall, but sort of medium and skinny. I don’t think he was black, but I might be mistaken. He had on one of those ski caps, and something over his face like—I think it may have been a stocking.”
“That’s great, Miss Elise,” he said, smiling as he warmed her cold hand in both of his own. “You did fine.”
“Oh, I’m so glad I told you,” she said on a long, relieved sigh. “Now maybe I can sleep.”
Kane hoped she could because he wasn’t sure he would be able to, not for some time. The man she described sounded familiar. He sounded, in fact, a lot like Dudley Slater.
There was one person who might know for sure. That person was Regina Dalton.
He could ask nicely, but that might not do the trick. In which case he’d have to force the truth from her. He had a good idea of what method to use. It might not be particularly noble, but it was sure to be effective. All he had to do was get her alone someplace where there was no possibility of her running away from him again.
He knew just the spot.
The only trouble was, there would be no escape for him, either, and he wasn’t sure how far he could trust himself with her. How long he could remember all the cold, hard reasons for what he was doing.
What he had in mind was explosive. There was no doubt about it. One wrong move and it could blow up in his face.
Why, then, did he have such a reckless urge to see just how short he could cut the fuse?
Kane Page 12