by Lisa Jackson
Kane ignored her question. Preoccupied, he paced distractedly in front of the couch, his fists balled deeply in the pockets of his jeans. As he passed in front of her, Erin couldn’t help but notice that his jeans, slung low in the waist, strained against his thighs and buttocks with each of his long strides. As he paced she was reminded of a caged animal, and she could almost visualize his tightly controlled muscles rippling beneath the fabric of his clothing. Forcefully she pulled her attention away from his virile male anatomy and tried to read the expression on his face.
“Didn’t you hear me?” he growled, and stopped his absent pacing. “I asked you to go and pack.”
“No, you didn’t,” she corrected, her eyes locking with his. “You ordered me to pack without so much as a greeting or explanation!”
Anger snapped in his eyes, but his reply was strangely soothing. The rage that was burning quietly within him was controlled. “You’re right,” he expelled in a long breath, “and I’m sorry. I…I’m a little distracted this evening,” he offered as an apology.
“I noticed!” she retorted, and then seeing the worried creases that pulled his thick dark brows together in concern, she amended her hot retort. “I guess it’s my turn to apologize,” she admitted wearily. “I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve been a little distracted myself.”
“Oh?”
“Nothing to be concerned about,” she averred with a wan smile, and wondered why she didn’t have the strength of character to lay her cards on the table and confront him with her unanswered questions about their relationship and the future. Instead she chose to sidestep the issue. “Now.” She smiled feebly, luminous lilac eyes looking pleadingly up at him. “What’s been bothering you?”
“Oh, God, Erin,” he moaned and let his forehead drop to his hand in a gesture of total defeat. He raked long tense fingers through the wheat-colored highlights of his burnished hair. How could he explain that he was only a hairbreadth away from confirming his suspicions about her? Could she imagine how close he was coming to finding all of the pieces of the puzzle that would tie her into the embezzling scandal? Although everything was still circumstantial, it was stacking together so neatly that it was actually beginning to scare Kane. Although no more money had been taken from the bank, the most damning piece of evidence that he had found so far—a discrepancy in the securities cart key registration—proved as well as anything that Erin had been lying to him. How long did she expect the charade to work? How could he help her and get her out of this mess? What could he do? It would all be so much easier if he just didn’t give a damn!
“Kane,” Erin said unsteadily, still sitting, looking both childlike and wise at the same moment. Oh, God, he thought, was she going to confess? Could he bear it? His muscles tensed, and he could feel the pressure as his jaws tightened together in a viselike grip. “Is there anything I can do?” she offered in a whisper.
Erin had noticed Kane stiffen at the sound of her voice, and she was aware that the wall between them was rigidly back in place, but she felt a strangling need to climb the invisible barrier and reach out to him. Why was he suffering so?
“There’s nothing you can do,” he stated flatly. “There’s nothing anyone can do.”
She twisted her fingers together. “Is it Krista?” she asked with a shaky breath.
His gray eyes smoldered with indecision. “That’s part of it,” he conceded, and hated himself for his duplicity. Dropping his body down on the couch next to her, he let his head fall backward as if it were too heavy to support. He sat staring ahead, with only inches separating him from her. Her senses were alive to him, her nerve endings stretched taut. Erin could feel the heat of his body, smell the inviting scent of his aftershave, see the darkening shadow of his beard. But he still didn’t touch her. His hands rubbed thoughtfully against his knees, and he looked straight ahead through the window into the late afternoon sky. “I talked with Krista again today,” he said in a voice that seemed remote.
“And?” Erin prodded, not knowing why she should be concerned with Kane’s reclusive daughter.
“She doesn’t want to move to Seattle,” he sighed, and drummed his fingers against his thigh. “Absolutely refuses!”
He turned his head to look in her direction and their eyes met in a chilly embrace. “I’m going to California next week to get her and move her up to Seattle with me.”
“And you’re worried about her and the adjustment,” Erin guessed.
“Wouldn’t you be?”
“That goes without saying. Is…there anything I can do to make it easier on you?”
“Would you come to California with me?”
“To get Krista?” At Kane’s cursory nod, Erin expelled a long breath and shook her head firmly and negatively. “I don’t think that would be a very good idea. She’s going to have to adjust to a whole new city. I think you should be alone with her. She doesn’t need the intrusion of a virtual stranger.”
She could see in his eyes that she had convinced him and she continued, “But if there’s anything else that I can do….”
“There is something,” he suggested, and for a moment the tension seemed to vanish.
“What?”
“Pack your bags for the weekend” was the brief reply, but the passion that had been lurking in his eyes came alive. His silvery eyes embraced hers, and he reached for her hand. His thumb drew slow, lazy circles on the inside of her wrist, and heat began to climb up her body. “Oh, Erin,” he breathed, and his lips found hers in a feverish kiss that seemed to pulsate with need and urgency. When he dragged his mouth away from the supple curve of her lips, he looked savagely into her eyes, asking questions that she couldn’t understand. Then a softness stole over his features as he took a handful of her hair in his palm and pressed her head against the protection of his chest. In a ragged breath he asked, “Do you know how hard it’s been for me, forcing myself to keep my hands off you at the office?” He growled deep in his throat. “There were times when I thought I would actually go insane, having you so close and not being able to touch you….”
Her arms circled his waist, and she kissed the swell of his cheek. “I know…”
“No, I don’t think that you can imagine what it’s like—seeing you every day and not being able to touch what is mine.”
“Yours? Possessive, aren’t you?” she quipped sarcastically.
“Absolutely!” His grip on her tightened, and when she tilted her face to meet his, the warmth of his lips captured hers in a passion that spread fire through her veins. With great difficulty she pulled her head away from his.
“What did you say about packing my bags?” she inquired, trying to ignore the warm intimacy of his breath as it tickled her face.
“You and I are getting away for the weekend,” he stated, and with apparent effort he released her from his tenacious embrace. “Hurry up,” he ordered. “We don’t have all day. I want to get moving before we run out of daylight!”
“Kane!” Erin said with mild irritation. “What are you talking about? Where are we going? Why do I need to pack?”
His smile twisted grimly and Erin saw the weariness and cynicism deep in his crystal gray eyes. “You and I are leaving this city, the bank—” his eyes swept the homey apartment “—this house, everything! We’re going to get lost in the wild for a couple of days!”
“The wild?”
“That’s right!” Half dragging her into the bedroom, he opened the closet, against her protests, and found her suitcase. “I’m tired of sneaking out of your bed in the middle of the night like some…gigolo!” He ignored Erin’s gasp of indignation and began opening her bureau drawers. She caught his reflection in the mirror and saw that a hard, tense mask had come over his angular features. He looked up, his gray eyes held hers and he said with disgust, “And I’m tired of not being able to touch you in the light of day!” His hands were pressed firmly on the dresser top, and he pinioned her with his gaze, cold and distant, in the looking glass. Tense fingers
slowly rubbed the wooden surface of the dresser. “Damn it, woman!” His fist pounded against the cool wood. “I’m sick of hiding, and I won’t do it anymore! So, beginning tonight, we are not going to keep this affair in the dark, as if we’re ashamed of it! You and your paranoia over rumors can go to blazes!” He spit the words out as if they were a bad taste in his mouth. His anger was burning in the darkness of his gaze.
“Kane,” Erin implored. “Why are you so upset? What…”
“Look, Erin. We’ve played the game your way for nearly two weeks, and it’s tearing me apart!” His entire body tensed for a second before he took in a long steadying breath and controlled the note of rage that had entered his speech. In a softer voice he continued, “Let’s have an entire weekend alone together—what do you say?”
“I don’t understand…”
“Let’s go somewhere where we can walk in the sunlight together—where we can be seen kissing….”
“Is this what’s been bothering you?” she asked, as she put a staying hand on his sleeve.
“Oh, Erin,” he sighed, holding her at arm’s length and letting his eyes search her face. “There are so many things that are bothering me,” he admitted, and a tortured look twisted his features.
“Can we talk about them?” she asked quietly.
“That’s exactly what I have in mind. But I thought a change of scenery might do us both some good.”
“You know that I can’t leave at the drop of a hat.”
“Why not?”
“My tenants…I’ve got an advertisement in the paper to rent the apartment downstairs.”
“The apartment on the first floor, across the hall from Milly?” he asked.
“That’s the one—how did you get on a first-name basis with Mrs. Cavenaugh?” Erin asked, a suspicious black eyebrow arching heavenward.
“That little old lady has excellent taste,” he laughed. “She likes me.”
“And she told you about the vacant apartment?” Erin guessed.
“That’s right,” he agreed with a smile that any Cheshire cat would envy.
“Then you understand why I have to stay here…”
“Don’t worry about the apartment,” he said dismissively. “I’ll rent it until I find a more permanent residence. Does it have two bedrooms?”
“Of course, but—”
“Then it will be perfect!” he exclaimed.
“Perfect? For what?”
“Krista and myself.”
“I don’t know…”
His eyes grew dark. “It’s the perfect solution to our problem.”
Her breath caught in her throat. “I didn’t know that we had a problem,” she returned, and began to place her undergarments in the open suitcase on the bed. Was he actually going to tell her what had been bothering him, why he had been so wary of her?
He came up behind her and let his arms encircle her waist. His words fanned her hair and the sensitive skin at the back of her neck. He captured the black silk and entwined it in his fingers. Burying his face in her hair, he groaned. “The problem is that I want to be near you…always!” The confession was a tortured, unwanted admission.
“What are you saying?” she asked, and a tightness constricted her breath.
“I want to live with you!”
Her voice was unsteady. “And what about Krista? What would she think about her father and his business associate living together? What kind of example would we set? No, Kane…” She shook her head sadly. “It wouldn’t work!”
“Lots of people…”
“I’m not ‘lots of people,’” she interrupted.
“So I noticed,” he agreed, and his hands slowly kneaded the softness of her abdomen. Warm curling sensations grew to life within her. Slowly he stopped his seductive movements. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m pushing you too quickly. Let’s forget the entire suggestion—for the time being. But, please come and spend the weekend with me…”
Pulling herself away from him, she planted a fist firmly against her hip and forced back a smile that flirted with her lips. “I’ll come with you—on one condition!”
Kane crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the dresser. The sweater strained across his shoulders. “Okay. I’m game. What’s the condition?”
“That for once you tell me where you plan on taking me!”
“Spoilsport!”
“Kane!”
“Where’s that girl who loves mystery and old movies?” he inquired, a twinkle coming to his eyes.
“You’re not going to tell me, are you?”
“Not unless you think of some wildly erotic torture that will force me into submission.”
“Dreamer,” she shot back at him, before turning to pack.
* * *
The small motorboat churned through the cold gray waters of Puget Sound and out toward the Pacific Ocean. When Erin had stepped into the tiny vessel, she had guessed that Kane was taking her to San Juan Island, but he had preferred to keep the destination and his secret to himself. Now, as the frigid salt spray tickled her nose and clung to her hair, she was grateful that she had had the foresight to bring her down jacket with her. She drew the warm collar closer to her neck in an effort to keep the moisture-laden air off her skin.
By the time they reached Orcas Island the sun had set, and only a long orange glow remained along the horizon. Night was closing in, and the lights of Deer Harbor winked like silvery diamonds against the black island as the launch continued on its journey around the small piece of land.
Erin rubbed her hands together, and then pushed them deep into her pockets in an effort to warm herself. At that moment the rhythmic rumble of the small craft’s engine slowed, and Kane maneuvered the boat inland. It was difficult to see clearly in the evening light, but Erin made out a small cove with a relatively private beach and a ramshackle cabin.
Kane cut the engine and jumped out onto the private dock. He secured the craft and helped Erin out of the boat. Her eyes swept the beach until she spotted the cabin. A slow smile spread over her features.
“Well, what do you think?” Kane asked, his arm draped possessively over her slim shoulders.
“I think this all looks suspiciously like a set from one of those 1940s, black-and-white, slice-of-life movies,” she commented as her eyes studied the small cozy cabin and its state of apparent neglect.
“I knew you’d like it,” Kane replied with a self-satisfied smile. “Come on. Let’s take a look inside…”
The cabin was, if nothing else, rustic. A broad, sagging front porch protected the front door. The cabin was constructed of cedar, and to Erin’s discriminating eye, had never been painted. It bore the weathered look of exposed gray wood blanched by the salt of the sea. At one end of the porch a worn rope hammock swung in the breeze coming off the ocean. The front door groaned as it was opened, and the interior of the cabin had a musty, unused odor. There was no electricity, but running water was pumped into the kitchen. A woodstove in the kitchen and a massive stone fireplace at one end of the living area provided the only sources of heat in the building. Erin surveyed the cabin with a skeptical eye. She had never been much of a believer in “roughing it” when modern conveniences were the available alternative.
Kane unpacked the boat and started searching for firewood, while Erin lit the rose-colored kerosene lamps and removed the dustcovers from the furniture. To air out the interior, she opened all the windows, heedless of the chill in the air, and felt the tickle of salt air burn in her lungs.
The cabin was rather barren, and what little furniture there was appeared threadbare. But she had to admit that once she had swept the dust from the floor, and the fire was lit, the warm scent of burning wood mingled with the fresh fragrance of the salt sea air, and the cabin seemed bearable, if not cheerfully inviting. Fortunately Kane had the foresight to stop off at a delicatessen in Seattle before picking up Erin, and he had purchased sandwiches and a bottle of wine. Erin rummaged in the old-fashione
d kitchen and was able to find an unopened package of paper cups along with a tarnished but necessary corkscrew for the wine.
Pleased with her discoveries, she retraced her footsteps back into the living area. Brandishing the corkscrew dramatically in the air, she captured Kane’s attention. “Voilà!’ she announced theatrically, and placed the cups on the floor next to the couch.
Because of the chill of the evening sea breeze, Kane was closing the final window in an effort to retain the heat from the fireplace when Erin reentered the room. He snapped the window latch closed and turned to face Erin, who wondered aloud, “How in the world did you ever find this place?”
“It’s not exactly moonlight and roses, is it?” he asked, crossing the room to the fireplace. He squatted near the golden flames and warmed his palms against the heat that the fire offered.
“Who needs moonlight and roses?” she asked rhetorically, and shrugged.
“Don’t you?” Gray eyes searched her face as if she were a puzzle to him.
“I’m a little too much of a realist to think that the world revolves around silver moonlight, cut flowers and soft music,” she admitted dryly.
“Are you?” A smile of disbelief tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Does it matter?” she asked, and unwrapped the sandwiches. “Anyway, you’re avoiding my question—how did you come to find this private little hideaway?”
After dusting his hands on his jeans, Kane sat down next to her on the floor, allowing the slightly weathered couch to support his head and shoulders. His long legs stretched in front of him, and nearly reached the warm red coals of the fire. Erin silently offered him a sandwich, which he gratefully accepted, and between bites he explained.
“As you already know, I’m looking for a permanent residence for Krista and myself in Seattle. I read the classified ads every day, hoping to find something suitable.” He paused to open the wine and poured the cool clear liquid into the paper cups. The light from the fire reflected and danced against the deep green bottle and in his clear gray eyes.